Work Text:
This is how Midorima's life is ruined:
"Oh," Takao says, stepping into the cafe, "it's Akashi from Rakuzan, right?"
There is a short silence. Then Akashi lifts his gaze with deliberate care and says, "Shuutoku's Takao."
"Wow, you remember me," Takao says, shaking some of the rain from his hair. He glances around at the full tables and adds, "Mind if I sit with you?"
Somewhere in the distance, Midorima makes an unintelligible sound of horror as Ootsubo accidentally steps on his lucky item and shatters it into tiny shards.
And in the cafe, Akashi smiles, slow and dangerous, and says, "Not at all."
"What do you mean, you guys are friends," Miyaji demands, his fingers twitching. "No, wait, more importantly, what the fuck is he doing here? Having one of the Generation of Dumbasses is bad enough, idiot."
"He followed me here," Takao says cheerfully. Next to him, Midorima is making a series of really weird faces: He looks like he's forgotten his normal facial expression and is trying to compensate by making all possible expressions at once. It's pretty much the best thing ever. "Sei-chan's in Tokyo to talk to a scout, and I offered to show him around. We went to the zoo."
"Sei-chan," Midorima repeats. His voice suggests that Takao just might be the source of all suffering in the world.
"The zoo," Miyaji adds, in much the same tone. "Hang on, can he even look at giraffes? Doesn't he have some sort of height complex?"
Akashi, who up until this point has been exchanging greetings with Ootsubo, turns. When he speaks his voice is perfectly calm, but even those who aren't acquainted with him can tell that the subtext is something like I will singlehandedly end your family line, and with the brine of your tears I will water every piece of land you have touched so that nothing can ever grow there again. "It was a pleasant experience," he says, his expression implying that the rest of Miyaji's short life will be anything but. "I quite enjoyed seeing the myotonic goats."
"Myotonic --?" Miyaji repeats, managing to keep the scowl on his face despite the fact that Akashi is walking towards him with the easy gait of a predator.
"Yes," Akashi says. "Fainting goats. A genetic condition causes them to collapse when they feel panic. As soon as I glanced at them, the entire herd fell over." He stops just in front of Miyaji and looks him up and down with a soft laugh. "Do you know," he says, eyes glittering, "it reminded me of playing against you."
Ootsubo is the one who holds Miyaji back until he stops frothing at the mouth. He has a hollow look of resignation on his face, the same one he wears whenever Midorima uses one of his selfish requests, like a kitten who's been abandoned too many times on the side of the road. Takao, who is above all a kind and caring underclassman, says, "Want me to steal some of coach's Xanax?"
"All of it," Ootsubo says, "and make it quick."
Because Midorima's already used up all of his requests for the day, he's forced to go through the motions of practice instead of interrogating Akashi as he clearly longs to do. His obvious irritation and Akashi's quiet presence from the bleachers lead to the meteoric rise of pineapples as one of Japan's biggest imports; by the time practice ends, the entire court is sticky with fruit juice. Takao considers this to be one of the most amusing days ever, and he's still humming as he enters the locker room, which is when Midorima traps him against the wall and says, "What are you doing?"
"What's wrong, Shin-chan?" Takao asks. He tries to keep his voice casual, which is tricky because Midorima's lucky item of the day is apparently lip gloss, and the only replacement he's been able to find for the tube that Ootsubo shattered is both pink and sparkly. Takao catches a hint of kiwi from Midorima's beautifully pursed lips, and it takes every ounce of his self-control not to laugh. "I thought you got along with Sei-chan?"
"I -- respect him," Midorima says grimly. Takao is all ready to ask what 'respect' is a euphemism for, but then the tips of Midorima's ears go red and Takao subsides out of pity. Instead he claps Midorima on the shoulder and says, "No worries, I --"
That's as far as he gets before Miyaji storms into the locker room with all the grace of a fruit-scented tornado and snatches Takao from Midorima's clutches. "Look," he says, the wild gleam of his eyes underscoring his words, "you are not allowed to bring stray animals home anymore, Takao. In fact, it would probably be better if you just stopped making friends." He lets his gaze flick over to Midorima's face and adds, "You attract crazy people."
"What is that supposed to mean," Midorima says coldly, his voice ten different kinds of pissy. Takao opens his mouth to defend his collection of madmen, thinks it over, and shuts it again. Then Miyaji takes a closer look at Midorima and says in a tone that is equal parts scandalized and despairing, "My god, man, are you wearing lip gloss?"
"Yes," Midorima says, pushing his glasses up. He looks almost proud of the fact that he has all the cosmetic taste of a ten-year-old girl. "Man proposes --"
"Just -- stop talking," Miyaji says. He looks like he's on the verge of snapping, so Takao grabs Midorima's sleeve and drags him outside. They're almost halfway to the gates where Akashi is waiting when Midorima stops and asks, "Is Akashi staying at your place tonight?"
Takao nods. There is a pause while Midorima glowers and goes through some sort of inner turmoil. Then his eyes narrow and he says in a tone that brooks no argument, "What a coincidence. So am I."
"Wait, what," Takao says. But by then Midorima and Akashi are both seated in the rickshaw, staring down at him in stony imperiousness, and Takao has no choice but to climb on his bike and head home.
"See you," Miyaji says, passing by on his way out. "I'm going to run all three of you bastards over with a truck."
"Yeah," Takao mutters, pressing down on the pedals, "that might be the best option for everyone involved."
When Takao pulls up to his front door and hops off the bike, the first thing he says is, "They should call you guys the Generation of Tsundere. Were you two actually discussing the weather back there, are you kidding me?"
"Takao," Midorima warns, eyes narrowing. Akashi raises one questioning eyebrow and Takao informs him, "Seriously, we can't even mention you during practice without Shin-chan pushing up his glasses and turning away like that actually hides that fact that he's blushing --"
"Stop making things up, Takao," Midorima snaps, and this time he's completely leveled up in bitchiness, so Takao grins at him and adds, "And as for Sei-chan, every time he --"
Then he stops, because Akashi tilts his head with a dazzling smile and says, all teeth, "Yes, Kazunari?"
"Nothing," Takao says, taking a quick step back. "Just making shit up again, I don't know why I do it, it's a terrible affliction."
"You should get that checked out," Akashi says, voice dripping with solicitude. He still looks kind of like a really tiny redheaded shark (not that Takao would ever mention the "really tiny" part), so Takao cuts back on his impulse to mock his guests out loud and does it through text instead.
picked up a new crazy person, he sends to Kasamatsu, complete with rows of dancing hearts. want to come over and watch? bring snacks!!!
Takao's father is home early from work, and to his credit he manages to chat with the guests for a whole six minutes before politely excusing himself and stepping outside. When Kasamatsu walks in with an entire store's worth of Pocky, he waves to the others and says to Takao, "Your dad's going into hysterics on your front porch."
"Oh, he just met Shin-chan," Takao explains. Kasamatsu nods and follows him into the kitchen, then says, "So what are they doing here, anyway?"
Takao can't answer because his mouth is full of chocolate biscuity goodness, but he manages to convey with his hands that Akashi is in Tokyo for business, and Midorima's supervising them because he has a nasty, suspicious mind. "Supervising?" Kasamatsu asks, brushing the crumbs from Takao's mouth with a small smile. "Should I be worried?"
This is so adorable that Takao ends up kissing him right there, running his fingers through Kasamatsu's short hair until it's sticking up in all directions. When they break apart, Kasamatsu looks sort of like a disheveled hedgehog, and Takao makes a happy noise and messes his hair up even further. It earns him a smack on the head, but Takao's totally okay with that, especially when Kasamatsu decides the smack is probably worth another kiss.
"So what exactly is being supervised?" Kasamatsu asks, once they're both satisfied. Takao hums as he pours tea and says, "Well, you know how Shin-chan is. I think he's worried that I'm going to, er, make up terrible stories about him to tell Akashi." He grins. "Not that I'd ever do such a thing."
"Which means you already did."
"You know me so well," Takao beams. Kasamatsu rolls his eyes and peeks into the living room, where Akashi and Midorima are seated on opposite ends of the couch, two cushions apart. "So," he says, "what do we do with them?"
Takao slides his arms around Kasamatsu's waist. "They're clever," he says, pressing his lips against the nape of Kasamatsu's neck. "I'm sure they'll figure it out by themselves."
Once it becomes clear that Takao and Kasamatsu aren't coming back from the kitchen, Midorima turns to Akashi and says, "You should know that Takao is a pathological liar."
Akashi is a complete bastard, so instead of responding in any sort of reasonable way he smiles and says, "I'm glad I had a chance to see you, Shintarou." The caress of his voice on the last word sets off every single one of Midorima's nerve endings. Midorima's already beginning to push up his glasses and turn away when he remembers Takao's earlier comment and freezes, at which point Akashi presses his advantage by invading Midorima's personal space with what Midorima considers to be an almost sociopathic lack of shame.
"Akashi," he says, scandalized, because they're in a strange house with their friends only ten feet away. Then Akashi's kissing him, slow and sweet, and it's been so long that Midorima lets him, yielding to the harsh pressure of Akashi's lips and the delicate brush of Akashi's hands against his skin. It's achingly familiar -- when he closes his eyes, Midorima can almost feel the scattered shogi pieces pressing into his back, hear Kise's laughter echoing from the court. He gasps against Akashi's mouth and falls back, pulling Akashi down with him. Then there is only the sensation of heat mixed with need, and Midorima fists his hands in Akashi's hair like he can hold them there, anchored to that point in time, by the sheer power of his desperation.
When Akashi slips his fingers lower, Midorima moans "Sei --" and then grabs his wrist. They stay like that for a moment, poised in a fragile equilibrium, before Akashi lets him go, a faint flush coloring his cheeks.
"You should have let me know you were coming to Tokyo," Midorima says eventually, pleased by the evenness of his voice. He carefully smooths down his shirt and settles back. "I'm always happy to accommodate my -- former captain."
"Thank you," Akashi replies, eyes dark, "but I wanted to see you chase after me."
Midorima sighs. "I merely wanted to make sure that you weren't led astray by the whims of my teammate."
"After I'd already spent most of the day with that teammate?" Akashi raises one eyebrow. "Shintarou...are you really so obvious?"
"It's not recruiting season yet, Akashi," Midorima answers. "Which scout were you meeting with?"
Akashi laughs, entirely too amused. "What pointless games we play," he says, looking away, as if he can see the entirety of their past spread out in the distance. "But I suppose we of all people must hold to the promises that we make." When he turns back his eyes are soft, unguarded. "Wait for me."
"Of course," Midorima says, as he always has. Akashi's fingers linger against his face for a minute, the touch far more intimate than a kiss. Then he draws them back, still smiling, and turns his face away.
Akashi takes the first train back to Kyoto, so when Takao stumbles blearily downstairs the next morning he finds Midorima sitting alone on the couch. There are bags beneath his eyes, but he manages to look somehow rejuvenated, like a parched man offered a drink of water. "Takao," he says, toying with the bandages on his fingers, "what you were saying yesterday --"
"Hmm?" Takao asks, holding out a cup of tea. Midorima takes it but doesn't drink. Instead he sighs and says, "About Akashi. You began a comment with, 'Every time he...', and then Akashi cut you off."
"Oh, that," Takao says, after he's done snickering. "Right. Every time Sei-chan mentions your name, his eyes light up, like he's a defective Christmas tree with only two working bulbs."
There is a long pause.
In the end, Takao decides that facing the wrath of one Akashi Seijuurou is totally worth the look that passes over Midorima's face. come visit again~! he texts Akashi, right before Midorima drops his cup and ruins Takao's phone. I had fuuuuun!
So did I, Akashi texts back. Do you know why Shintarou tastes like kiwi?