Boys & Basketball (BL)

Prologue

Kazuya: kah-zoo-ya
Brooklyn: brook-lin
Keith: key-th

So you don't butcher the names (mostly Kazuya) <33

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"I told you to shut up, didn't I?"

Sheets rustled, a muffled whisper sounded and then a soft curse, before the bed creaked again.

"Or do you want him to hear you? Is that it, huh?" The raspy, teasing voice whispered, laced with amusement. Another soft moan echoed through the otherwise empty dorm room and the heavy breathing couldn't be masked. "Tsk, tsk, very bad."

Keith turned over his side, his eyes blinking open, the remnants of sleep in them. Glancing over to the other side of the room, his jaw clenched.

"You woke him up, Brooks." Kazuya's half lidded eyes stared back at Keith, lust seeping through them as a pleasant grin appeared on his lips. "Sorry dude, I did tell this brat to stop whining, but he doesn't know how to follow simple instructions."

The American-Indian born man could understand why Brooklyn was struggling.

Keith leaned up on his elbow, his hair strands blocking some of his view, but the moonlight seeping through the dorm window was enough to highlight the slopes of lean muscles in his vision.

Kazuya's broad shoulders, his defined pectorals to his narrow waist where his abdomen muscles clenched with each thrust he offered to the shorter man under him, had Keith exhale a slow shaky breath.

His chocolate shaded eyes followed the view in front of him closely, tracing down the slender arched back hiding Kazuya's lower body, and finally met with piercing jade eyes, burning at him with such intensity.

Brooklyn glared at him, and perhaps it was supposed to be a mean, rude look, but Keith swallowed thickly as his heart thudded against his chest.

The furrowed eyebrows, dirty blonde hair ruffled with traces of sweat, the pink flush to his cheeks, and God, those tear-hazed, lustful eyes.

Fuck.

"You should apologize, Brooks. This is pathetic. How many times this month have you disturbed his sleep, huh?" Nine times. In twenty-four days.

Keith couldn't have forgotten any of them. It was the whiny noises, subtle curses and lighthearted threats and finally, filthy moans and the smacking of skin that would lure him out of sweet sleep to an even sweeter view.  

His eyes watched closely as Kazuya held onto the younger's waist, pulling him back each time to shove more of his cock inside him, his black hair falling out of the low bun he tied at the nape of his neck, yet his pitch black eyes stayed locked on Keith.

It was freaky at first– the pupils always dilated when they stared Keith down as if wanting to tear him apart– but slowly, with each passing night, Keith couldn't help but crave being watched that way. "Since this brat won't apologize, I can apologize to you. Brooklyn is very sorry, Keith. Aren't you, huh?"

Yet again, Keith's focus darted down to the heated green eyes again, squeezing tight each time Kazuya's cock fucked against that one spot. Brooklyn's lips parted after a moment and just as Keith expected, the velvety smooth voice rolled out, "Get fucked, motherfucker."

Keith's lips twitched up in tune with Kazuya's chuckle, just as a smack resounded the space before another dirty curse. "Be nice, Brooklyn. You owe Keith that at least. Afterall, the dude has been seeing you getting fucked for more times than he's wished." Keith did not mind. Well, he did in the beginning.