A/N: Another short one I started while I was sick. I had wanted it to be longer, but just can't make it happen. Hope it makes you laugh, though. It made me feel better when I was writing it. As always, explicit works can be found on tumblr and AO3 under the same name.

He did everything he could to ensure the best possible outcome. In school, in basketball, in his life in general, Midorima followed a strict regimen, took excellent care of both his mind and body, and faithfully followed his horoscope each and every day.

As long as he stuck to this routine, there should have been no surprises, no disruptions, not a single problem at all. However, even Oha Asa could not have predicted the force of nature that was one Takao Kuzanri. The other man had blown into his life like a category 5 hurricane and he had been trying, without much success, to regain his footing ever since.

Case in point, before Takao he would never have imagined kneeling on the locker room floor, peering around the metal cabinets, spying on one of his teammates while another teammate practically rode his back, shaking and wheezing with suppressed laughter. Of course, the hysterically amused person on his back was none other than Takao himself.

The situation he found himself in began innocently enough. After putting in some extra time with Takao on their passing routes, he and his partner had headed back to the locker room to shower and change. He'd been about to round the first bank of lockers when Takado had grabbed his shirt and yanked him violently backward.

"Shin-chan, get down!" Takado hissed as he pulled Midorima to the floor. Before Midorima could react, a hand pushed his head down and then Takao more or less crawled up his back.

Shocked and annoyed, he'd reached up to knock Takao's hand way. "Takao, what do you th—."

He missed and the hand left his head to cover his mouth. "Shh, Shin-chan. Miyaji-senpai will hear you." Takao replied in hushed tones, warm breath ghosting over the sensitive shell of Midorima's ear.

He winced, a faint tremble quaking through his body. Damn that Takao! The idiot knew not to mess with his ears in public. Something else his daily horoscope had never warned him about, that he would somehow find himself in a relationship with the fool about to hyperventilate on top of him.

"Wah, he's really going for it," Takao snorted as his weight shifted on top of Midorima.

Pushing up his glasses, Midorima tried to ignore the unfortunate way his body responded to Takao's. "What did you do?" He watched Miyaji pawing at something on the floor, straining and cursing up a storm.

Takao laughed again. "Weeell, I may have glued a couple of ¥500 coins to the floor in front of senpai's locker."

Of course. Midorima should have known it was something like that. Takao had a bizarre sense of humor that often left him confounded, irritated and usually the victim of it. This time the unlucky mark was Miyaji. If Takao didn't watch it, he might just find himself shoved into a locker with a pineapple stuffed into his mouth. Midorima might just help, too. Just because he was in a relationship with Takao (and he couldn't help hunching his shoulders at that admission) didn't mean Takao had a free pass to be as obnoxious as he wanted.

"One of these days you are going to go too far, Takao."

"Ah, but you'll save me, won't you, Shin-chan?" Takao dropped his chin onto Midorima's shoulder and let his arms fall onto the bigger man's chest.

"Fool, I'll help them hold you down."

Takao turned his head so that his lips brushed Midorima's ear. "Ooooh, I didn't know you were so kinky. Are you going to bring handcuffs and whip cream, too?"

Midorima knew Takao was teasing him, yet he felt his face catch fire anyway. He hadn't even known he could blush, not until Takao. "I-idiot! You know that isn't what I meant! Why must you always—," he craned his head around to tell Takao off but his movement put their faces so close he could see the silver flecks in his partner's blue-grey eyes, eyes that really seemed to see so much it sometimes made Midorima uncomfortable. Before he could finish his scolding, Takao closed the distance between and pressed their lips together.

As always, for those first few seconds, he was bewildered by the intimate connection, the entire thing bordering on surreal. That he was kissing anyone at all was a mystery he had yet to solve, that the other person was a man , and an overly cheerful, aggravating one at that, exceeded anything he could have ever imagined. Then, all the fire and energy and passion that was Takao sank into him, wrapped around him, and opened him up in ways he hadn't believed possible, and he gave in.

He should be outraged that Takao was kissing him here, in the locker room, with their senpai just a few feet away. And part of him definitely was, but another portion, a bigger portion, the side of himself Takao had unleashed the first time he had taken one bandage-wrapped hand and kissed it, that part didn't care where they were or who might see them. It let Takao part his lips, slide inside, and coax his tongue into a rhythm he felt throughout his entire body.

Just as the situation was on the verge of getting out of hand, Takao released his lips and moved back a little. He stared into eyes that had darkened with desire, reminding him of the sky during a summer storm, and Midorima almost leaned back in for another kiss. It did strange things to him, that heated gaze of Takao's.

Instead, he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and glared. "Why did you do that?" There was no covering the husky, breathless timbre of his voice.

Blinking, Takao cocked his head and smiled a slow, wicked smile. "Because Shin-chan totally looked like he wanted a kiss."

Midorima reared up, nearly knocking Takao off. "I did no such thing," he whispered back furiously, embarrassed and secretly wondering if he indeed did have such an expression on his face. His responses to Takao were so often out of his control, he couldn't be sure whether Takao was lying or not.

The arms around him tightened. "You don't believe me?" Takao shook his head, faking a hurt look. "Then next time, I'll just have to take a picture and show you."

"Takao." Midorima had perfected that way of saying Takao's name, a rebuke and a warning all rolled into one. Naturally, Takao just grinned unrepentantly.

Pushing up his glasses, Midorima opened his mouth to berate Takao further, but a looming, menacing form appeared before them.

"Takao, Midorima," a voice from the very bowels of hell rumbled through the locker room, "I hope you are prepared for death."

Apparently, while they had been otherwise occupied, Miyaji had finally figured out the truth about the coins. They must have made some sort of sound to alert him to their presence because he stood over them, eyes promising bloody murder.

Midorima heard Takao gulp loudly and then the fool, the lying traitor, threw him right under the Miyaji bus.

"Senpai," Takao feigned a sickeningly sweet voice, "it was all Shin-chan's fault. I tried to stop him but he was too strong for me." He even rubbed an imaginary tear away from his eye.

Miyaji's deadly gaze focused on Midorima and he couldn't help flinching back. "Takao, you damn liar, I never did that." He moved to throw Takao off his back, but the smaller man was already bouncing away.

Warm fingers grabbed his hand. "Let's make a break for it, Shin-chan!" Takao, laughing like the idiot he was, tugged with all his might, pulling Midorima off the floor.

He should have let go, should have pushed Takao back at Miyaji to take his medicine, but Midorima did neither. He fixed his glasses, let his fingers curl around Takao's, and broke into a run behind the man who had complicated and yet somehow enriched his life. Who was the real idiot here, he thought to himself, but the tiniest of smiles curved his lips as they rushed out of the door, a roaring Miyaji hot on their heels.