kise day strip without kise

cont. ⬇

happy takao day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

its them

1006 Happy Takamido Day

this blood on our hands (is just barely dry)

a noir drama, in four parts.

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[Listen]

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this blood on our hands (is just barely dry)
Characters: Midorima Shintarou, Akashi Seijurou, Takao Kazunari + others
Word Count:2800
Ratings/Warnings: T/M, violence, implied sexual assault (not by any canonical characters), background character death
Notes: takes place in Agent for Hire verse, but you don’t necessarily have to read that to enjoy this.

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(i. the beginning)

It starts like this:

Five minutes to midnight, and Shintarou is arranging his notes for the end-of-shift handover when the staff assist alarm goes off.

(Click Here to Read)

[The trick with Shin-chan, meanwhile, is to withhold expectation. That’s what it boils down to, in Kazunari’s opinion.]

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[Listen]

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something like dazzling
Characters: Takao Kazunari, Midorima Shintarou
Word Count:600
Ratings/Warnings: G, none
Notes: drabble, midotakmido, for 1) tanabata, 2) Shin-chan’s birthday (please note i basically haven’t written in over a year)

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Shin-chan isn’t big on affectionate gestures. It comes with the territory; he is a grade A tsundere, after all. Kazunari’s made his peace with that. But. Every so often Shin-chan will surprise him, like the time he spent fifty-thousand yen on Scorpio’s lucky item of the day because Scorpio was twelfth on Oha Asa’s list.

Kazunari reminds himself of such gestures on days Shin-chan’s unique eccentricity is particularly grating – when his Oha Asa rank is in the bottom six, or something isn’t going his way.

On such days, Kazunari reminds himself he could’ve done worse. He could’ve ended up with Aomine, and died of the comorbidities of premature aging. or Kise, and disintegrated into a million little pieces and flung himself into Space. or Murasakibara, and camped out in a pastry shop for the rest of his self, grown lazy and unfit and miserable, eventually dying of a heart attack. or Akashi, and never have played basketball in high school at all. or, God forbid, Kuroko. Kazunari does not want to imagine a scenario where he is on a team with Kuroko.

The trick with Shin-chan, meanwhile, is to withhold expectation. That’s what it boils down to, in Kazunari’s opinion.

“Shin-chan, sorry,” Kazunari’s breath is coming in gasps. He leans over, pressing his palms against his trembling knees. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to perfect this pass in time.”

Shin-chan’s shoes squeak on the gym floor as he comes to stand in front of Kazunari. Bent over as he is, all Kazunari can make out is two white sneakers and the bottom half of a pair of impossibly long legs.

“The only things you can’t do,” Shin-chan says, and there is a quiet proud note in his voice that makes Kazunari look up, and meet eyes that look strangely defiant, behind their glasses, “are the ones you believe you cannot.”

Kazunari chokes out a laugh. “That would mean I am the orchestrator of my own fate. But that’s not true, is it.”

Shin-chan sighs. Kazunari hears it: a short, soft exhale of breath. “Come here,” Shin-chan says, and then he has tugged Kazunari off the ground in a single fluid motion and folded Kazunari into long wiry arms, his cheek lying against the top of Kazunari’s head, Kazunari’s mouth pressed awkwardly against Shin-chan’s clavicle. For a moment, they stand like that – Kazunari, with his eyes wide, Shin-chan’s heartbeat beating in tandem with his own – before Kazunari thinks to bring his own arms up, quickly, before Shin-chan can decide to pull away –

Kazunari squeezes his eyes shut, fingers curling into the fabric of Shin-chan’s uniform shirt, damp with sweat.

It should be gross, and disgusting, and maybe it is, a little, damp and sticky: but there is a reason Kazunari doesn’t go for girls, isn’t there, and maybe this is it: the smell of Shin-chan’s perfume under wood polish and rubber and sweat (he is too fancy for cologne, of course, that stuff is for plebians), heady and woodsy and sweet –

Something that is all Shin-chan, Kazunari thinks, and if he was braver this might be the right moment to tell Shin-chan so (it is easy to fall in love with a Miracle), but despite the bravado Kazunari is most certainly not really brave –

And so he settles for anchoring his fingernails into the back of Shin-chan’s shirt (it would be probably a pain to kiss Shin-chan anyway; their height difference is too glaring):

“Bad idea, Shin-chan,” Kazunari says, fiercely, voice hoarse with exhaustion, “you’re never, ever getting away, now.”

He can feel Shin-chan’s smile against the top of his head. “That’s what I like to hear.”

By睦月ヨツカ

Byつ

Midorima woke to find that, while Takao himself had ended up with his limbs sprawled all over the place and his head hanging halfway off the bed, he had left his mark on Midorima via a stiff, drying patch of saliva between his shoulder blades. It was disgusting, certainly–he shuddered as soon as it registered in his mind. Night after night, Takao slept with his face mashed up against Midorima’s back and couldn’t seem to find a way to sleep with his mouth shut.

What a troublesome fool.

Midorima braced his hands under Takao’s torso, righting him on the bed with slow movements so he would not jostle him awake. He sighed through his nose as he brushed his fingers through the hair at his temples, carefully, unsticking it from his skin.

He stirred in his sleep and Midorima soothed him by tracing his hairline.

Gross, troublesome little fool.