Author's Note: This was written for the kurobasanonmeme on tumblr. The prompt was: From Takao's POV, Midorima being a tsundere and asking him out. Preferably with Takao teasing him with something along the lines of 'aren't we already dating?' The person wanted Humor/Fluff. I don't know that I gave her/him the fluff they wanted, but I think I got the humor down. Comments are better than gold, so please be a doll and let me know if this tickles your fancy.


I slumped onto the wooden bench, not sure which was more depressing: the paper in my hand or the splinter said bench had decided to lodge into my left ass cheek. That was going to be a party later, trying to remove the tiny, evil shaving without any of the other Shutoku guys catching me. There wasn't exactly a lot of privacy to be found here in the training camp. That's all I needed to add to my problems, suddenly becoming the butt (hahaha butt, get it? ah yeah I crack myself up) of everyone's jokes. All around me were the hollow sounds of balls bouncing on the parquet floors, and the thudding and swishing noises they made as they hit the baskets. Dozens of feet ran up and down the gym, their rubber soles squeaking as they slid over the polished surface. It was just white noise to me, barely registering as I considered my dual dilemmas.

"What are you doing over here, Takao?" I froze until I realized the voice was not the one I was dreading. I wasn't about to be destroyed, at least not yet.

"Drawing up my last will and testament." I held up the document so my teammate, Miyaji, could see it.

He peered over my shoulder at the document. "You know, Takao, I've thought this before, but you're kinda strange. Why do you need to write a will, and here of all places?"

"Because I don't think I'm going to make it back from training camp alive. By the way, I put you in here. I'm leaving you the afro wig I wore for our class's cosplay cafe at the festival last month."

"Oh, nice, thanks-," Miyaji sounded admiring, before he caught himself. "Wait, forget that. Why do you think you are going to die here?"

"Because Shin-chan has been glaring at me the whole time," I replied morosely.

"Huh? Geez, I thought it might be something serious." He popped me in the back of the head.

"It is serious." Even to my own ears, my voice was whiny. I couldn't help it.

"That guy is always glaring, stupid. It's like, his eyes will fall out or something if he doesn't."

"Not like this." At that precise moment, one Midorima Shintarō, the very "Shin-chan" we had been discussing, jogged down the middle of the court in front of us. As he ran by, he fixed us with a hard, cold stare. Those eyes, the color of lush, vibrant spring when in full bloom, were anything but warm now. They slashed into me. It was like being glared at by an evil, menacing kappa. Well, if the kappa wore glasses, had hair, stood 195 centimeters tall, and was ridiculously attractive.

"See?!" I pointed my finger at his retreating back and turned to Miyaji. "That look there. Shin-chan is definitely super-angry with me about something."

Miyaji scratched his blond head thoughtfully. "I guess it was a bit more intense than his normal, snooty glower. Did you do something to piss him off, other than your standard annoying behavior that is?"

"I don't know!" It came out as a wail. Letting my "will" slide slip out of my fingers, I dropped my head into my hands and tugged on the ends of my hair. "Maybe he found out that I borrowed his towel after the bath last night because I left mine in the room."

"Well, he does seem anal about stuff like that, but I don't think that's enough for him to get too angry over," Miyaji said.

"Maybe he discovered I have been using his toothbrush because I dropped mine in the trash on the first day by accident."

"Uh, yeah, that's a little bit more personal than just using his towel and a lot more disgusting," Miyaji muttered the last bit under his breath. "He definitely might get upset about something like that. Hell, I would, too. So, like, don't ever do it, or I'll punch you in the face."

I was barely listening. I just continued listing things I thought might have earned Midorima's wrath. "Maybe he saw me trying on his clothes when I thought he wasn't around.

"That's—" Miyaji started to say something, but I bowled right over him, my voice on the edge of hysteria.

"Or, maybe he knows I've been taking pictures of his sleeping face and making them my cell phone background!"

"Okay!" I blinked as Miyaji abruptly stood up. He patted me on the shoulder, hard, and gave me a rather pitying look. "Takao, I'm not sure how to tell you this, but you obviously have much bigger problems than just having Midorima out to get you. You might want to have a brain scan done when we get back to check for any damage or abnormalities. Now, I'm just going to head on over and see if Kimura will do a little one-on-one with me." And, with those words, he spun and fled like every last demon in hell was after him.

"What was that about?" I mumbled to myself as I reached down to pick up the paper I had dropped, which I promptly let go of again when Midorima suddenly yelled at me.

"Takao, get over here!" His deep, rich voice echoed through the gym. It was also very, extremely, maxed-out irritated.

I sighed heavily. There was just no hope for it. I left my will in a very visible location and went off to meet my doom, splinter in my ass and all.

"You rang, oh handsome Prince-sama," I intoned dramatically when I reached his side, executing a sweeping, courtly bow. Inwardly, though, I braced for death. When it didn't come, I peeked up at Midorima. He was looking haughty, as usual. I mean, if you looked up "arrogant" in the dictionary, I am sure there would be a picture of Midorima's unsmiling, stern face staring back at you. However, now there were also two spots of faint color on his cheeks. Was it? Nah, it couldn't be because I called him handsome? I teased him like that all the time. It had become an addiction of sorts, pushing and prodding the ever-grumpy Midorima. Still, now I was curious. And, I liked to live dangerously. Since I was already expecting to bite the big one at any time, I figured I might as well enjoy my last few moments on earth.

I straightened. Throwing my arm around his shoulder, I poked my finger in his cheek and hummed merrily, "Aw, a blushing Shin-chan is soo cute. Is it because I called you a prince? Or is because I said you were handsome? Hm? Hm?"

"Neither, idiot!" He shrugged off my arm, putting some distance between us. "And I certainly wouldn't blush over one of your imbecilic jokes. If my face is flushed, and I'm not admitting that it is, then it's simply because it is… hot in here." Midorima pushed up his glasses with the taped fingers of his left hand as he issued the curt denial. Interesting enough, however, he wouldn't look me in the face as he spoke. I was getting more intrigued, and my natural mischievousness was definitely stirring.

"Uh huh, so why'd ya call me over here? I was busy."

"Busy doing what? It looked like you were being a lazy ass to me." He lifted one dark, green eyebrow (and really, what was his mother eating when she was pregnant with him for his hair to turn out like that? well, it suited him somehow and made you want to touch it to see if that fairy color was as soft as it looked, but hey that's a little t.m.i . right?) at me.

I waved a lackadaisical hand through the air. "Oh, a little of this, a little of that. Writing down how my worldly possessions should be distributed when I'm gone. Speculating on what I have done to make Shin-chan mad at me. Trying to figure out how to gracefully get this splinter out of my ass. You know, just the usual stuff."

"I'm not mad at you—." It was a beautiful thing, watching Midorima's eyes widen in shock and his mouth go slack as my words registered. I'm sure there just weren't that many things in the world that could cause him to wear such a dumbfounded expression. "Did you just say you have a splinter in your in your ass?" He repeated the words slowly, carefully, as if he couldn't quite believe it. Well, I didn't believe it either when it happened, and my butt cheek still throbbed, but this was just too delicious not to use to torment him.

"Oh yeah, and it hurts like hell, too. We should really complain to the management about those benches." I then grabbed his arm and plastered an animated, conspiratorial look on my face. "Hey, you wanna see it? It's gotta be huge because it feels like a freaking plank the size of tree stump is stuck in there!"

Not giving him a chance to respond, I spun around and hooked two thumbs in the elastic waist of my practice shorts. I had managed to tug them down a few centimeters before Midorima's large hands suddenly covered mine. Exerting almost superhuman force, he yanked my hands, and thus my shorts, back up.

"Of course I don't want to see it, you moron!" He hissed in my ear. "Are you brain damaged or something?"

"Why do people keep saying that?" I leaned my head back to glance up at him, which put it against his chest as he was standing behind me. Midorima really was stupidly tall. He was busy looking around us, I guess making sure no one saw me almost drop trow. He was definitely blushing now though, his face a vivid pink that couldn't be passed off as anything else. Smothering a smile, I put a heavy dose of whine in my voice as I complained, "Geez, Shin-chan, did you have to do it so hard? Now I've got a wedgie to go with the splinter in my butt."

He finally glanced down at me and noticed our fairly intimate position. Circling his hands around my biceps, he pushed me away like I had the plague and took a quick step back. I turned around to face him. I couldn't resist one more, little push. Propping my hands on hips, I pouted. "You don't have to be so rough. It's not like I was going to ask you to pull it out, either the wedgie or the splinter. But, hey, if you want to volunteer, well then I won't mind."

I was hoping to him fluster again. I miscalculated. Big time.

"Ta-ka-o." He said my name in voice that had surely been given birth to in deepest, darkest, fiery bowels of hell. Even the handsome planes of his face took on a sinister, demonic cast. I'll admit it, I was intimidated.

"Yes, Shin-chan," I answered meekly.

"Sit," he pointed to the floor, barking the command to me just like he would a dog. And you know what, I sat. Or rather, I found myself kneeling in the formal position for some reason while he lectured me.

"Do you know why I called you over here in the first place?" He folded his arms over his chest and stared down at me from his lofty height. I shook my head, not daring to speak. "Because you are too frivolous! I couldn't stand seeing you slog along anymore. You'll never improve that way. I need you to be at the top of your game for the Winter Cup."

"You need me?" I did speak up now, unable to stop the glow of surprised happiness that washed over me.

"Yes, obviously the team needs you," Midorima acknowledged with an annoyed look. "You're a key component of our strategy after all."

"Nuh uh uh," I shook my head at him. "You said I. I need you, those were your words, Shin-chan."

"No, I didn't," he lifted his chin stubbornly.

"Yes, you did."

"No. I did not."

"Yes. You did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Didn't—enough of this, I refused to be sucked into your stupidity. " Midorima gave me his back. "We need to get back to practice. You can deal with your … personal hygiene issue later. Now, get up. I've got some drills for you to do, and the first time you complain about them, its ten extra laps outside."

I sprang to my feet and glided up beside him. We started walking toward the other end of the gym. I was smiling, probably rather goofily, as I locked my hands behind my head.

He noticed. With a disgusted sigh, he asked, "What are you so happy about now?"

"Well, you are worried about me and went out of your way to prepare special drills, just for me. So, I was just thinking that I'm really loved by Shin-chan." I winked at him impishly. His face went blank and he made a kind of squawking sound, which was highly amusing coming from him. Yeah, this was going to be fun. Oodles and Oodles of fun.

It wasn't fun. It was hell on earth. Midorima was an evil, sadistic slave driver. He was worse than our Captain, Ōtsubo. By the time practice was over, there wasn't a single part of my body that wasn't hurting. Muscles, bones, tendons. From the tips of my toes to the top of my head, I was in agony. Even my pain had pain. I wobbled to the showers, barely able to wash my body without whimpering. One positive, though. Apparently, the splinter had been sticking out enough that when I rubbed the cloth over my backside, it dislodged. I didn't even have the energy to be thankful for that one, small blessing, though.

I staggered into the dining area after my shower. The other Shutoku members were already there, eating and talking. I just lurched into an empty seat (my butt only throbbing a little from its previous calamity) and laid my cheek on the cool, hard table. Food was the last thing I wanted right then. Sleep though, yeah sleep would be good. Awesome in fact. My eyes were actually fluttering shut when something heavy thumped down on the table in front of me. I opened them. Someone had placed an enormous plate of food in front of me.

"Sit up and eat, Takao." It was Midorima. A chair scraped as he maneuvered his big body into the seat opposite mine.

"I'm not really hungry, Shin-chan, so I think I will just skip dinner," I smiled at him weakly. It was a bit shocking that he had brought food me food at all. He wasn't exactly one to go out of his way for others.

"Fool!" He snapped. "You have to eat to replenish your nutrients. You will get sick otherwise."

"Yeah, well, I will get sick if I eat all of that," I mumbled, eyeing the massive amount of food in disbelief. Who did Midorima think I was, Seirin's Kagami? There was no way in hell I could eat all of that.

"You practiced hard in very high temperatures today," Midorima was studiously looking down at his own food, so I couldn't see his eyes, "and that means you sweated more than usual. Your body needs to refuel." There was a long pause and he added, almost hastily, "You will drag the team down tomorrow if you have no energy or are ill from not eating."

I sat up, looking at him very obviously not looking at me. Geez, he really was such a tsundere. He couldn't just admit that was worried about me like a normal person. He had to make up excuses. Oh well, that's what was cute about him.

"Alright, Shin-chan," I chuckled, "you win. I'll eat."

"Hmpf, of course. I always win." He replied with that smug superiority of his that he excelled at.

"Well, actually, not always. Seirin beat—."

"Shut up and eat, Takao."

I shut up and ate. All of it. Which, as I feared, turned out to be a mistake. By the time we made it back to the room we shared, my stomach was letting me know it violently disagreed with my choice to consume all that food. It was roiling and gurgling, with tiny darts of pains shooting through my abdomen. Yup, a trip to the bathroom was definitely in my imminent future. Oh, yay. We still needed to take our baths, too. The quick showers we took before dinner were just to rinse the sweat off so we could be somewhat clean when we ate.

Grimacing, I rubbed my stomach as I sorted through my bag, hoping maybe I had some kind of medicine to relieve the discomfort.

"Your face looks funny, Takao." That was Midorima, all tact. He was fondling today's lucky item, a baseball with the Hanshin Tigers logo on it of all things. I guess he felt the need to make up for not being able to touch it much during the long hours of practice.

"Uh, yeah, not feeling so hot. My stomach's waging a war against me. I told you I wasn't hungry, but Shin-chan was a brute and made me eat anyway. Don't you feel bad now?"

"Not really." Ouch, he didn't have to be so blunt. I glanced up and happened to see his face in the mirror across from our beds. There was something approaching concern in his expression. His words might have been rude, but he wasn't unaffected. Yup, total tsundere. He caught me looking and he shut down, turning around abruptly. When he did, I'm not sure how it happened, but he somehow lost his grip on the baseball. It hit the floor and rolled toward me.

"Ah, I'll get it, Shin-chan." Um, yeah, that was so not a smart move. I knew it as soon as I bent over. My belly made a ghastly, rumbling noise and, well, expelled whatever noxious air that was giving it grief out the other side. A loud rpppt! blasted through the room. Now, normally guys don't care about that sort of thing. We even, childish as it may seem, think it's pretty damned funny. But I have never, ever done that in front of Midorima. It's Midorima for chrissake! I can't even imagine him doing it himself!

I straightened abruptly, feeling queasy now for a different reason. He looked at me, and I panicked, tossing out the first thing that popped into my head. "I didn't know Okinawa Barking Spiders had made it this far north."

"What?" His face, oh god, I couldn't look at his face!

"Yup, that's what that sound was just now. The Okinawa Barking Spider. It's pretty famous. It's not poisonous though, so you don't have to worry about it biting you." I was completely babbling, unable to stop the rush of words streaming from my mouth. "Anyway, I'm thirsty, are you thirsty? I'm thirsty. I think I'll go get us something to drink before we take our baths. You like Shiruko, right? I'll get you a Shiruko. Okay, I'm going to go get us some drinks now."

And, with Midorima eyeing me like I had just wandered in from the loony bin, I escaped from our room before I could embarrass myself further. I made a pit stop in the bathroom and took care of the necessary business first. Thank the high heavens no one was in there for that! I calmed down by the time I walked to the vending machines and bought our drinks. I didn't want to go back to our room, but I did. Reluctantly. Very, very reluctantly.

Outside our door, I inhaled deeply and then pushed it open.

"Shina-chan, I got your Shiruko," I called out brightly, as if the earlier episode never occurred. I carried it over to him and set it at his desk. He was hunched over some papers and barely spared me a glance, other than a short, "Thank you."

Not sure whether I felt relieved or disappointed, I walked over to my own desk. My steps came to a faltering stop when I saw what was on top of it. There were at least four different kinds of stomach ailment medicines there. It had to have been Midorima, of course. I could feel my lips curving. How like him not to say anything and just place them there.

Putting my drink down, I pivoted back around. Coming up behind him, I dropped my arms over his shoulders so that they hung down onto his chest.

"Takao, what—," he started to say something, maybe a protest, but I put my chin on his shoulder and talked over him.

"Thank you for the medicine, Shin-chan. That was very kind of you."

"It's not like I went out of my way to get it for you or anything," he groused, but from my vantage point so close to his face, I could see the tips of his ears were turning red and all I could think was ohmygod he's so cute! So, of course, I couldn't resist teasing him. My previous embarrassment was fading fast.

"Eh, you just had all that medicine lying around? You really do believe in being prepared. Ah, I know! Maybe Oha-Asa said to bring all of that with you, hm?"

"No, that's not it," he denied, turning to look at me, and his action brought our faces so close together that the tips of our noses brushed against each other. We stayed that way for a second, a minute, a lifetime, and then Midorima was sliding out of his chair and away from me.

"You should take one of those now, before the bath." He acted like that, whatever it was just now, didn't happen. He just began gathering up his toiletries and other things for the bath.

Well, I wasn't sure what it was either, so I let it pass, ignoring the strange speeding of my pulse. "Worried about me? That's so sweet." I batted my eyelashes at him.

"I'm not particularly worried about you. I just don't want you getting sick in the bath if I'm in there." He said coolly. "And stop doing that with your eyes, it's disgusting."

"Yes, yes, your highness," I sighed. Going back to my desk, I made a big show of taking the medicine. After washing it down with my drink, I grabbed my clothes and other stuff. "Alright, Shin-chan. I took my medicine like a good little boy. Do I get a reward now? How about a kiss?" I pursed my lips at him and made a smacking sound.

"How about a concussion?" His large hand reached out ominously. Yeah, I never learn.

"Eek! Just kidding. Sheesh, don't be such a tight ass. You'll get constipated."

"Obviously a problem you don't have."

I was reaching for the doorknob when he said that and I completely missed, throwing myself off balance and bumping my chin into the door instead.

"Ow!" Rubbing at the stinging pain, I peered up at Midorima. Surely he hadn't just returned my teasing with a comeback of his own, and a rather crude one at that. But his face was as stoic as always. Maybe I misheard him.

"Are you just going to stand in the doorway all night, Takao?" He snapped. Yeah, I definitely must have misheard him.

"Sorry, I got distracted." I opened the door, and we made the long trek to the baths in silence. Midorima never felt the need to fill those silences. Usually I was the one prattling along, talking his ear off, but right then I didn't feel like it for several reasons. Most particularly that awkward moment that had passed between us when our faces had been just centimeters apart, so close I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face. I had suddenly experienced the most irrational urge to close that distance and see if Midorima's mouth tasted as bitter and harsh as the words that always flowed from it, or was it actually sweet and tender. And, yeah, that was a new compulsion and definitely not okay and Midorima really would give me that threatened concussion from earlier if he knew about it. Maybe there really was something wrong with my brain after all.

Once we reached our destination, I quickly shimmied out of my clothes and jumped into the bath. The water was hot, relaxing, and felt good against my tired and aching body. Midorima disrobed like he did everything else, slow and methodical. I tried not to watch him. I really, really did, but my guilty little eyes kept finding their way back to him. He really was something to look at. You always noticed his height, first. There just weren't that many people running around Japan at 195 centimeters. With his clothes off, however, you could see the sleek muscles that hugged almost every inch of his long, well-built frame.

It's his hands I always admired, though. A work of art, that's what they were. Well, it's no surprise considering the care he put into them, but he was blessed with the perfect canvas to begin with. His fingers were long, just like the rest of his body. They were slender, almost delicate, but unbelievably strong. They were the hands that would fit just as easily on a pianist, or a surgeon. I absently wondered what it would be like to be touched by those hands, and then dunked myself under the water when I realized where my errant mind had wandered.

When I came sputtering back to the surface, he had already slipped into the bath beside me.

"What are you doing?" he asked thinly, looking at me like I was bug that needed to be squashed. Or, maybe he was just trying to focus his eyes. He didn't have his glasses on and I was never really sure how much he could see without them.

"Practicing Pranayama." So, it wasn't the most intelligent answer, but it was the only thing I could think of at the time.

"I didn't know you did yoga." What do you know, even Midorima could sound surprised.

"Oh, yeah," I said breezily, splashing my hand through the water, "I'm mad about it. Helps with flexibility and all. You should totally try it."

"Hm." Was all he said, but I swear by the look on his face he might have actually been considering it. I lowered my face again, until the water was touching my nose, so I wouldn't burst out laughing. "Anyway, Takao," he continued, and there was an odd note in his voice, "you were staring at me just now. Why?"

That made me bolt up straight in the water. Damn, did he have eyes in the back of his head or something?

"No I wasn't, Shin-chan. That's some crazy imagination you got there," I laughed uneasily.

"Yes, you were."

"Nuh uh. Anyway, what about you? You have been glaring at me all week!" I hastily turned the tables on him. "That's why I was making out my will. I thought I had done something to anger you and the wrath of Shin-chan was about to fall upon my head."

Oh, he wasn't expecting that one, was he? He drew back, his green eyes widening. "I haven't been glaring at you," the denial sprang easily to his lips, too easily.

I sidled closer to him, my movements sending water sloshing over the lip of the tub. "That's a lie. Even Miyaji noticed it. I'm surprised I don't have holes in my body from the daggers you have been shooting at me."

"Your exaggerations are absurd as always," he harrumphed, but he was definitely avoiding my gaze.

"No, they're not. I know what I saw and felt," I poked a finger into his chest. "You have been giving me the evil eye this entire training camp, and I want to know why."

"Stop that!" he knocked my hand away and ran his fingers through his now-damp hair in exasperation. "Look, I'm not angry with you, alright. Give it a rest. I just … there's something I've been wanting to tell you."

Eh? That through me for a loop. He looked strangely uncomfortable, too.

"Well, what is it?" I asked curiously.

"I don't feel like saying it right now," he sniffed, actually sniffed, and turned his back on me.

"What?! You can't do that. You can't just say all this fear and torment I've been living under all week is just because you have something to tell me, and then, well not tell me. You have to tell me."

"I don't want to." He could have passed for a stubborn little boy with that almost querulous response.

"Shin-chaaan!" I waded through the water and attached myself to his back like a limpet. "C'mon, tell me. Tell me." My wheedling, imploring voice bounced off the porcelain walls around us and formed a fairly annoying echo.

"No! Stop whining! And don't cling to me when you're naked like that! It's gross!" He issued the barrage of commands and seized my arms, flinging me away with a cruel flick of his wrists.

I opened my mouth, ready to take offense at that comment and his violent treatment, but something stopped me. A red flush was crawling up the back of his neck. Had I flustered the normally immovable Midorima? To be truthful, I wasn't entirely unaffected myself. I had felt a reaction, somewhere in the vicinity of my nether regions, as I was pressed up against his hard, wet body with the smell of his damp skin drifting over me. So, yeah, I guess it was a good thing he tossed me away like last week's garbage. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this point.

We spent the rest of the bath in awkward silence, neither of us looking at or speaking to each other. It was the same when we got back to the room, and we crawled into our respective beds without saying a word. It was unusual for me, to go that long without talking or joking or playing around, but I had a lot on my mind. I didn't think I would be able to sleep, but somehow I dozed off anyway.

I'm not sure what woke me up, a noise perhaps. Or, maybe the feeling of someone standing over me. Because my eyes cracked open, and there was Midorima looming over me.

"Takao, go out with me." His voice was stiff, brusque. I glanced blearily at the clock on the table beside me.

"Shin-chan, it's only 1:30," my brain felt sluggish and my eyes started to drift shut, "I'll go running with you in the morning. Go back to bed now, there's a good boy."

A rough hand jogging my shoulder brought me back to consciousness.

"What?" I complained loudly.

"Takao, I want you to go out with me," Midorima repeated, and he sounded almost surly now.

"Geez, I already said it can wait until morning. I know you are gung-ho about training, but doing it at ass-thirty in the morning is really too much." I grouched at him, rolling over and hugging my pillow to me.

"That's not it!" he yelled, and my eyes popped open. I could hear him gritting his teeth. "I'm saying I want to date you, you idiot!"

I was completely, 100% wide awake now. My heart was suddenly pounding in my chest. Everything clicked. That's what the looks he had been giving me were about. The awkward tip-toeing around each other that we had been doing. My strange (and possibly creepy though I wouldn't admit it) fascination with taking pictures of his sleepy face. My constant need to tease him when everyone else gave him a wide, wide berth. The fact that he let me tease him when he froze everyone else out. Not to mention, the physical attraction I had just started to realize. It all made sense now. Of course, I couldn't give in that easily, now could I?

"So, Shin-chan likes me?" I questioned without turning around.

There was a pregnant pause, and just when I thought he might not answer, he did, in a voice that was gruff and so cute I could barely stand it. "I might … like you a … little bit. Maybe."

"And you want to go out with me? Is that what you wanted to tell me all this week, but wouldn't in the bath?" I was smiling now.

"Ah … yes." His answer was short and curt.

I rolled over. There was just enough pale moonlight filtering in from the single window in the room for me to see him. His face, his body. Even with the shadows, I could see how uncomfortable he looked. Rigid and ill at ease in his own skin. He had never been more beautiful.

"But, Shin-chan, haven't we been dating all along?" I opened my eyes wide and asked innocently.

"What?" Ah, now he was confused.

I sat up, pillow in my lap. Lifting a hand, I began to tick off all the ways in which we could already be considered dating. "We eat together. Train together. Bathe together. Sleep together." I flashed a quick grin when he started coughing at that one. "We go shopping together. I help you find those stupid lucky items. I even chauffeur you around in that ridiculous rear car without complaining. Much." I met his eyes. "Tell me, how is that not dating?"

It was clear I stumped him. "I hadn't considered that," he nudged his glasses up.

"Ah, but maybe," I tossed the pillow away and got on all fours, "that's not enough for the naughty Shin-chan." I began crawling across my bed toward him.

"What do you mean?" he was watching me warily.

Pulling myself up, I knelt there on my bed, just a hand's span away from Midorima, and I can't imagine what expression I was wearing because I know what I was feeling right then. Anxious, hot, needy, a little desperate, and very much trembling with the desire to do what I had almost done earlier that night: kiss Midorima Shintarō.

"I mean this," I said, and my voice didn't sound like my voice at all. It was low and husky as I slid my arms up his hard, toned chest and yanked his head down to mine.

"Takao, what are you doing?" he hissed, clearly panicking.

"Open your mouth, Shin-chan. You gotta open your mouth for this to work," I murmured, and then fused our lips together.

I didn't think he was going to do it at first, open his mouth like I asked. Now, I've kissed a few people in my day (well, they were girls but that doesn't matter, does it?) and it's not like I'm bragging, but I usually know how to coax a response from my partner. So, I nibbled on the corners of his mouth, first the right side, then the left. I sucked his bottom lip between my teeth, working it gently, and suddenly his mouth parted, breath misting over my lips. Ah, there you are, I thought in satisfaction, and slid my tongue into his mouth. I had been both right and wrong before. Midorima tasted sweet and spicy and little like the Shiruko he had drank earlier. I touched my tongue to his and that's where things went a little hazy.

Midorima – my unflappable, severe, weird Shin-chan – made a low, sensual, primal sound deep in his throat and apparently decided he wanted to be in charge. Suddenly his hands were on my back, in my hair, and his mouth was moving forcefully over mine, taking control. His tongue thrust between my lips, forcing mine to tangle and dance with it, and all I could do was helplessly submit because I hadn't been expecting such a passionate, thrilling response from him.

Just when I was about to do something embarrassing like moan lewdly and cling to him like one of those chicks in a porn movie, he broke the kiss. He pulled back and there we were, me kneeling on the bed and him standing, both of us panting and staring at each other. My lips felt hot, swollen, and bruised. I could still taste him. His were also wet and red.

"Shin-chan I—,"

"We can't do this here," he said and the words sounded raw, raspy. A muscle ticked in his jaw. "We can't defile the sanctity of the team or the training camp."

Sanctity of the…I looked at him incredulously for a moment before erupting into manic peals of laughter. I fell backwards onto my bed, rolling around and clutching my stomach.

"Ha ha ha! He he he! That's too funny. Only you would say something like that, Shin-chan."

"Shut up, and quit laughing like that. You sound like a donkey." He snapped coldly, as if he hadn't just had his tongue halfway down my throat. "All that braying is giving me a headache. I'm going back to sleep now." Prickly as a cactus, that was my Shin-chan. I wasn't fooled though, get underneath those thorns and it was nice and sweet inside.

"Aw, don't be so huffy," I soothed as he more or less stomped back to his bed. I waited until he had settled in and then called out, "Shin-chan?"

"What is it, Takao?" Exasperation colored his voice.

"So, we're dating now, right? I mean, we've always been dating, but it's official now, right? I won't forgive you if you cheat on me, you know."

A strangled sound came from the vicinity of his bed. "Something's obviously wrong with me, maybe a tumor, but … yes." He finally said.

"Aw, don't be like that."

We lapsed into silence, and then…

"Shin-chan?"

"What is it now, Takao?" It was obvious his patience was wearing thin.

"I really like you, you know? A lot."

It was quiet for several long minutes, so long I didn't think he was going to acknowledge what I said, but he did.

"I … you, too." His response was barely a whisper, and the middle part not even that.

"Eh, what was that? I didn't hear you, Shin-chan?"

"I said shut up and go to sleep, idiot!

I shut up and did as he bid, but I was wearing silly, dopey smile of happiness as I drifted off to la la land.

Fin.

Extra Note: Pranayama is the breathing exercise/control you do in yoga. wiki/Pranayama.