Archive of Our Own ^beta

Midorima has never had the desire to drink in his life, but he's certain that prolonged exposure to Momoi and Kise could lure anyone into a life of alcoholism.

They're just... so much. Too much. Staring at them, Midorima's entire body seems to be humming with nervous energy. They hit him like an overdose of bubblegum and sunshine and everything too sweet. No matter where he turns, he cannot escape them.

Momoi’s laugh rings out like bubbling champagne, manicured fingers twining into golden locks. She's slung over Kise’s lap like she belongs there, his mouth fit perfectly against her collar. “Ryo-chan, stop,” she whispers, voice somehow much louder than the movie playing on television. Midorima knows that they're both aware of his presence just feet away; Momoi is the only one with the decency to care.

Kise continues his attack on her sensitive skin, coaxing another laugh from Momoi. It is breathless, gliding, and it slips under Midorima’s skin as surely as a knife’s blade.

It all started because Midorima’s lease on his apartment was terminated, abruptly and without much warning.

"My living conditions... deteriorated alarmingly,” he explained to anyone who asked.

By his side, as they usually found themselves nowadays, Momoi and Kise were never able to restrain their generous contributions to the topic. "That's putting it gently."

"There were roaches."

"And rats."

"A lot of them. It was like a ninth plague or something! Midorimacchi is lucky to have made it out alive!"

Ordinarily Midorima would snap at Kise to stop being overdramatic, but in this case he felt inclined to agree with him. Coackroaches were a part of nature. Nature was a beautiful thing. Midorima found nature less beautiful when it was pouring from the head of his shower with him inside.

“And that's why,” Kise finished, after the two of them used this exact spiel to present Midorima with a proposal he could not (afford to) turn down, “we want you to live with us.”

“What,” Midorima had said, baffled and a little horrified.

“What happened to you was so terrible, and as your friends we don't feel right leaving you on the street!” Momoi chimed in, her eyes bright with that manic energy that always indicated she had planned something out in her head, down to the last fine-toothed detail. “Our apartment has an extra bedroom anyway, so it would be perfect for you! We have enough space, and it's quiet enough for you to study --”

“And no coackroaches,” Kise chimed in. “Or rats.”

“Absolutely not.” Momoi nodded firmly, bolstered by her boyfriend’s support, before regarding Midorima with wide, eager eyes. “Well? What do you say?”

Midorima regarded his options, laid out in front of him as clearly as his own two hands. He could move in with the couple; he could try to obtain a room with another friend (unlikely -- Takao had a roommate already, Akashi was studying abroad, and Aomine and Kagami’s apartment was not fit for human habitation); or he could sleep in a park.

He reflected on Kise’s proclamation about a ninth plague from minutes ago and heaves a deep sigh. He was smart enough to recognize when he had fallen out of favor with the gods.

He was not smart enough to turn down the room; which, in retrospect, would have been a better thing for everyone.

“Midorimacchi doesn't mind,” Kise moans into Momoi’s neck. “He's fine where he is. See?”

Midorima doesn't know if he minds or not, but it bothers him that he wasn't at least consulted. He shoots the giddy couple a look before turning back to the television, trying to block everything else out. This movie is utterly inane. There are too many explosions, next to no plot, and the characters are as layered as paper plates. The show behind him is much more entertaining, but not something he has been permitted to view.

Momoi lets out a sharp gasp, and Midorima's fist tightens around his water bottle.

He'd predicted that living with a couple -- especially one as affectionate as Momoi and Kise -- would be awkward. He hadn't anticipated how awkward it would be.

At this point, he wasn't sure if either one of them ever showered without the other. They also didn't lock the bathroom door beforehand -- he'd walked in on them enough times to know. Not to mention nighttimes. Nighttimes were simply outrageous. No human beings should have that much energy at three in the morning, even even the exhaustion of a medical student’s schedule did not grant Midorima the ability to sleep through it.

The things that really got under his skin, though, were almost too small to notice.

Doing homework at one end of the couch, Midorima's eyes would flicker to the other side, where Momoi lay with her back pressed to Kise’s chest. He would stare at the two twined around each other in total peace, and a chilly loneliness would fill his bones. He never knew where it came from; sometimes it would pass as quickly as it came. When Momoi kissed Kise on her way out the door in the mornings, Midorima’s own lips would burn. When Kise’s first attempt at latte art ended with a clumsy heart being presented to his girlfriend, Midorima craved the taste of caffeine.

He wasn't sure what was wrong with him. Maybe he'd caught a disease from the coackroaches, and was losing his mind. Maybe this was just the effect Kise and Momoi had on people.

Either way, he felt disgusted with himself -- as much as he felt very, very alone.

Kise’s fingers dig into Momoi’s hips, lifting her closer to him. She twines her arms around his neck, attacking his lips with fervor. The only sound past the dull drone of the television are the squeals and gasps for breath that ring out in tandem.

Midorima has given up all pretense of watching the movie. It is impossible to pay attention to anything else when the couple is right next to him -- entwined, intimate. It’s all so much, too much, and he wonders if his body is actually on fire or it's just his own tortured psyche. He can't tear his eyes away. Momoi’s skin is a flush peaches and cream color compared to Kise’s soft tan. They move against each other like silk on silk. It is a hypnotizing display, snaring Midorima’s attention try as he does to tear his eyes away.

“Satsucchi,” Kise gasps into his girlfriend’s mouth, and cuts himself off with an obscene moan. His head dips back, allowing Momoi to nip under his jaw. The heat that has steadily been pooling in Midorima’s lap for awhile now is starting to become painful, He shifts, still unable to tear his gaze away.

Could he get closer? Would that be wrong? He feels so tight, so restricted, and his chest has filled with so much heat that it's a challenge to keep his breathing steady. As Momoi and Kise slide over each other, Kise’s hands creep beneath Momoi’s shirt, and Midorima’s hands palm at his crotch over his pants.

This is wrong, he thinks dimly. This is so wrong, but he can't help it.

Kise lets out another moan, eyes falling shut in ecstasy. Midorima’s isn't expecting the reaction, or what it gives him in turn. His hips buck against his palm, and he cannot restrain a sharp gasp.

He knows he's made a mistake when the lovers suddenly pause, bodies ceasing to move against one another. Momoi turns her head, peering past her curtain of hair just enough to look at him. Kise’s eyes glint, catlike and cunning, in the moonlight.

“Midorin’s lonely,” Momoi observes. She sounds breathless. As usual, she's too right -- Midorima is lonely, so lonely for so long that he doesn't know if he can bear it anymore.

Kise extends an arm, and it takes Midorima a second too long to realize he's reaching out to him. “Come closer,” the boy breathes, his voice syrupy and hot. “You're so far away. We can't even feel you over there…”

Midorima’s eyes widen and flicker to Momoi, who looks devilish. Instead of crawling forward. He finds himself inching to the far side of the couch. “I - I couldn't,” he all but hisses. “It's not… it isn't proper…”

“You want it, don't you? You watch us… all day long. We've both noticed.”

Shame creeps under Midorima’s skin, itchy as sandpaper. There is no maliciousness to Kise’s voice, just wry humor, as he continues. “You want to touch us? You can.”

“I couldn't --” He cuts himself off, swallowing hard. “The two of you…”

“It's so sad to be on your own,” Momoi hums. “It feels like you're alone all the time. We said we wanted to help you, Midorin, remember?”

This wasn't what he'd thought they meant. This wasn't what they meant. Where was this coming from?

“I -- I can't --” He tries to stand, but his stomach is still brimming with heat, and he feels dizzy. The entire apartment seems to be lit by a soft light, as if set against a backdrop of flames. The couple in front of him glows, luminous, reaching out to him. They are like embers -- to touch them, he knows, would be to get burned.

He wants to touch them so badly.

“Come closer,” Kise says again, and Midorima moves to the end of the couch before he knows what he's doing.

He's out of his own control. He's temporarily lost his mind -- that's the only explanation.

He likes it. If this is insanity, it tastes sweeter than he ever imagined.

Kise reaches out, wrapping an arm around Midorima’s neck, and he allows the other boy to drag him into a kiss. It smoulders against his lips -- Kise doesn't feel the way Midorima imagined. He feels so much better, in a way. This Kise is not the one of his fantasies -- he is very real.

Momoi’s fingers are deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt, and Midorima feels painted nails glance over his chest. It's all he can do not to shiver, but he is distracted by Kise’s lips traveling along the underside of his jaw.

“We're going to take care of you, okay?” the other boy whispers in his ear. “Just for a little while.”

Midorima shuts his eyes, and finally gives in.

Midorima wakes up in bed the next morning, and for the first time he isn't alone. There is a pink head resting on his chest, hair spread in every direction. Another body clings to his side, hot breath being expelled against his neck in soft snores.

Any other morning, Midorima would push himself out of bed. He would make coffee, go for a jog, do some homework.

This morning, he stays still, and allows his eyes to shut again.