Slam Dunk Fan Fiction ❯ When I Grow Up ❯ One-Shot

Rating: PG

Warnings: Implied yaoi, OC x Kogure

Archive: My website and FF.Net by default. Others, please ask first.

Disclaimer: Slam Dunk characters do not belong to me. I am but a humble fan. I have no intention of infringing on copyrights with this non-profit work.

His briefs were sticking to him uncomfortably, but he had decided that a show of prudity was better than having someone catch him naked. Neighbourhood gossip made its way to his mother fairly quickly. Even at this late hour he could still hear his neighbours moving around, see the steady glow of fluorescent lights through windows. He absently noted that the window across from him was dark -- perhaps Kobayashi-san finally allowed her daughter a rest from studying for the entrance exam.

Kogure leaned forward, resting his arms against the windowsill as he breathed in the night air. The muggy heat of his dark bedroom was stifling. He grimaced slightly at the ache in his backside. Thankfully, there was no basketball practice the next day. Which was, of course, precisely why he chose this night.

He looked up. His eyesight was blurry without his glasses, but he knew there were only faint stars to watch. The lights and the pollution masked all but the moon. It was half full, glowing clearly in a cloudless sky. Even if the light was only a reflection of the sun's, he thought, the moon was still beautiful.

A rattling sound made him draw back slightly, but he smiled when he heard a familiar cough. Kogure never remembered the old man's name, but he and his yattai were familiar figures since childhood. Snacks and cold drinks bought in summer, surrounded by smells of baked tar and crushed grass. Less frequently, hot tea and soup in winter while he stamped his feet and tried to keep warm. Kogure wondered if the seller was still making a decent sum of money, competing against the new vending machines.

Warm arms, sheened with sweat, wrapped around his waist. He struggled briefly, but fell lax as a kiss was pressed to the back of his neck.

"You all right?"

Kogure turned around slowly, not breaking the embrace, meeting eyes that were the wrong shade of blue. "I'm fine, Muranaka. Just a little sore," he laughed lightly.

A delicate black eyebrow arched, but the Muranaka merely gave Kogure a kiss and released him. Muranaka gathered his scattered clothing and, efficiently, began to dress. Kogure watched him silently, arms crossed, back to the window.

"Would you like something to drink before you go?" Kogure offered courteously, reaching for a discarded t-shirt.

"Nah, I'm fine." Muranaka paused in pulling on his socks, peering at Kogure through his bangs. "My thesis should be done next week. If you're free...?"

He let the question trail off, but Kogure was already shaking his head. "Sorry, I have a game next week," he said, a gentle smile sliding across his face as he opened his bedroom door.

Muranaka shrugged off the rejection with a wry grin and followed him through the silent house, their echoes swallowed by darkness. A cool breeze swept over them as they stepped out the front door, bringing a faint scent of ashes. Their shoes thumped faintly against the cement driveway and scattered leaves. Somewhere a lone dog howled, but there was no one to witness their parting at the gate.

"Will you be okay?" Kogure asked, voice lowered. "The trains stopped running an hour ago--"

"Don't worry about it. A friend of mine lives nearby. He'll let me crash at his place." Muranaka's grin muted a little. "Take care of yourself. The first time is always the worst kind of best."

Kogure gave a soft chuckle. "Thank you. Ja."

"Sayonara." Muranaka winked and strode away, swinging his backpack jauntily.

The sheets were cool by the time Kogure got back to his bedroom. He stripped off his clothes and lay face down on the rumpled bed, too tired to worry about damp spots. He would keep the window open tonight, to air out any smell. Kogure turned his head, brushing his lips across the pillow.

Sleep eluded him for a long time. His roving gaze slid towards the jeans on the floor, illuminated by moonlight. He'd have to wash his clothes and bedsheets before his parents returned on Sunday. At least the used condoms had been flushed down the toilet.

Kogure started to roll onto his back, winced, and decided to lie very still. He pulled his blanket to his chin and closed his eyes.

In a few months, he'd be seventeen.

-owari-

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