Chapter Text
It was a shitty day to be at the beach. Cold, overcast － Kagami would not have chosen to be there on his own.
But when they'd asked him one morning while he hung around the station if he was interested in being in one of those cheese-cakey firemen-holding-fluffy-animals calendars, he had chosen to say yes.
So in a roundabout way, he had, actually, chosen to be on this cold fucking beach, with a brilliant sunset behind him.
With a dog in his arms.
Well － in his helmet, which he was holding. With his arms － his bare, unarmored, exposed arms. And chest. On the cold beach.
The thing about the beach being cold was, there wasn't really any way to excuse the fear-sweat that was trickling down his face.
"We're losing our best hours," the photographer (a tall blond named Kise) said waspishly as the sun sank lower into the brilliant red horizon, "could you try to look less like you're having Vietnam flashbacks?"
Kagami tried to smile, the dog made an adorable snuffling noise, and Kise grimaced.
“Not… not like that.” Kise lowered his camera and ran a hand through his hair. “You weren’t this terrible last year － last year’s photo was great.”
Last year Kagami posed with the fattest, sweetest cat he’d ever met. He’d sat at the base of a tree in a nice quiet urban neighborhood with long stoops and pretended like he had rescued the great beautiful beast from a tree. It had been cuddly and non-threatening.
Dogs were always threatening.
“Can I just set this down?” Kagami asked weakly, tilting the helmet away from him.
The dog, jostled by the movement, scrabbled a little, it’s itty claws clacking.
“Well, we should maybe get Nigou a leash,” Kise mused, contemplating the red sky. He looked at a point a foot below and to the left of Kagami’s shoulder, and said, “What do you think Kurokocchi?”
Kagami jumped out of his skin － further jostling the dog － as a pale, blue haired man in a sweater vest appeared beside him, looking at the dog.
“Nigou is very obedient, he will be fine,” the man said.
“Holy shit,” Kagami said, hastily setting the helmet (and dog) on the ground as he stumbled in the sand, “where the hell did you come from?” It was empty beach for miles on either side, and two hundred feet from surf to scrubby grass. It wasn’t like the guy had anywhere to hide. Unless he’d burst silently from the sand like some kind of weird sweater-vested ninja.
“I have been assisting Kise-kun,” the man answered, “for some time.” He held up a semi-reflective, silver-foil covered piece of cardboard, and demonstratively reflected some muted light onto Kagami’s abs, face blank. He twisted the board, briefly shining the light directly in Kagami’s eyes.
Kagami wanted to say bullshit, but then he’d have to accuse a stranger of sneaking up behind him on an empty beach. It would be embarrassing if he was wrong, and Kise did not seem to be objecting to this explanation.
“Kagami, this is Kurokocchi,” Kise said, “he is a good friend of mine, he owns Nigou.”
“Kuroko Tetsuya,” Kuroko said, “I will concede friend.”
“Kurokocchi! So cruel. And after all I've done,” Kise said.
“It is kind of Kise to support Nigou’s modeling career, even if it is merely in mourning of his own.”
“So cold,” Kise said, wincing.
Kagami just stared. He still felt tight and anxious, unable to forget the small fluffy dog at his feet, but the two were making a hell of an effort at distraction.
“What do I need to do so I can leave,” Kagami asked flatly, cutting through the bickering.
“You’re not leaving until I get a decent shot,” Kise declared, gesturing dramatically and clenching his fist in front of his chest, “I’ll get the lights out of the car and we’ll make this a night shoot if we have to. I hope you’re ready to go all night at this rate.”
“I have a class to teach in the morning,” Kuroko said, “and Nigou requires his beauty sleep. Perhaps we could focus on assisting Kagami-kun in making an appropriate face for softcore pornography.”
Kagami choked.
Kise sputtered, “Kurokocchi! This is just － a pinup calendar! Extremely classy.”
“Of course. My mistake, Kise-kun.” Kuroko surveyed Kagami calmly. “Kagami-kun, you have an issue with Nigou?”
“What makes you think that?” Kagami asked, tone a little more aggressive than he had really been aiming for.
“Kise-kun was correct, you did not have an issue making a pleasant face for last year’s Firemen Holding Cats calendar. Unless the photographer had a particular skill for bringing out Kagami-kun’s inner Calvin Klein model, I must assume you have an issue with my dog.”
Kagami felt his cheeks heat, and averted his eyes as he shivered, feeling the dog brush against his leg, apparently escaped from his helmet. “I just… really can’t handle dogs.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before signing up for this, hm?” Kise said.
“They told me it was the same as last year! Excuse me for assuming that meant the same thing as last year!” Kagami said.
“Just get that dog in your arms and look charming,” Kise snapped, raising his camera back to his eyes expectantly.
Kagami sighed and stooped to retrieve his helmet － and froze. He had to get the dog back in the helmet. It was one thing to hold the dog in the helmet, but actually putting his hands on it － didn’t that kind of thing piss dogs off?
Kuroko inclined his head briefly, blinking slowly. “Kagami-kun,” he said, approaching him. He crouched down and fixed the reflective cardboard into the sand in front of Kagami, “Kise-kun, is that angle acceptable?”
“Yes, yes,” Kise said.
Kuroko picked up Kagami’s helmet and pressed it firmly into Kagami’s hands. He gently grasped Nigou and stood up. Kagami followed him to his feet.
Kuroko firmly repositioned Kagami with one hand － encouraging him to angle the jut of his hip towards Kise, to pull his shoulders back and hold the helmet out in front of him － and then plopped the dog back into the helmet.
“Now, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko said, retreating to a spot just behind Kise’s shoulder, “forget about Nigou and focus on me.”
“O-okay?”
“Kise-kun, be prepared,” Kuroko said. And then he stuck a finger in his own mouth.
Is this a sex thing? Is this supposed to be sexy? Kagami wondered, staring in fascination at Kuroko’s mouth.
Kuroko pulled his finger out of his mouth slowly, wet with saliva － and stuck it in Kise’s ear.
Kise shrieked, flailing away indignantly.
Kagami, caught entirely by surprise, laughed abruptly
“Make the shot! Kise-kun!” Kuroko shouted urgently.
Kise, struggling and fumbling to bring the camera up as quickly as possible, swore as he took a burst of shots, smoothly crouching to slightly vary the angle.
Kagami huffed, feeling his own smile in the ache of his cheeks.
Kise straightened, took a couple more shots as Kagami’s smile relaxed into something more natural, and sniffed delicately as he removed the camera from his face. He flicked through the photos he had taken on the screen of his camera briefly.
“I’ve got what I need. Anything else can be fixed with photoshop. Kurokocchi, you’re a monster. I’m going home.” He grabbed the reflective piece of cardboard from the sand with a flourish and strode up off the beach.
Kagami watched him go － as Kise hit the scrubby grass by the path to the parking lot, Kagami could see him scrubbing at his ear angrily.
“Hm, Kise-kun is quite ungrateful,” Kuroko said, his voice close. Kagami jumped and looked away from Kise to Kuroko, who had lifted the dog out of the helmet and was now holding it lovingly.
“Uh, yeah,” Kagami said, dropping the helmet to his side and taking a couple long steps back, “thanks for helping out. Dogs are －” he dropped his gaze to the dog cradled tenderly in Kuroko’s arms, and his eyes caught on Kuroko’s fingers, rubbing softly in the dog’s ruff. “Yeah! So thanks,” he finished.
Kuroko made a small noise of assent, inclining his head briefly, “I am of course happy to have assisted Kagami-kun today. Perhaps Kagami-kun would be willing to assist me in turn?”
“Uh,” Kagami said.
“Nigou and I arrived with Kise-kun,” Kuroko said, “So, I am afraid we find ourselves in need of a ride.”
Kagami looked slowly between two identical sets of blue eyes, and tried to imagine a dog in his car. Fur on his upholstery. Tiny claws pressing their way into his thigh as it refused to remain in its proper place.
He was going to drive off the fucking road.