Title: Friction
Characters/Pairings: Midorima and Takao
Summary: Takao wasn't kidding when he told Midorima that he'd made lists.
Notes: Adult for smut; a follow-up to "Items 3, 4, and 7a." If kinking on Midorima's hands is wrong, I don't ever want to be right. 2651 words.

Friction

Kazunari's pretty sure that Shin-chan doesn't actually believe that he does, in fact, have lists of things he wants to try just as soon as he can talk Shin-chan into it. He's mistaken, of course. Kazunari may not look it, but he takes a fairly methodical approach to life. An ordinary guy with grand dreams has to be practical about how he pursues them if he wants to have any hope of achieving them.

So yeah, Kazunari has lists. Plenty of lists, and it's worth every bit of effort he's put into maintaining and curating them to see the look on Shin-chan's face when he produces the notebook of them for his inspection.

Shin-chan goes cherry-red as he turns the pages, scanning their contents. Sometimes he stops to linger over what he's reading, like maybe something has fired his imagination. Kazunari pays careful attention to those pages for later consideration. Eventually he reaches the last of Kazunari's lists and closes the notebook. He seems to be experiencing difficulty in looking directly at Kazunari. "That was… comprehensive."

Kazunari rolls over onto his stomach and props his chin on his hands. "They do say that if you're going to do something, you ought to do it properly."

"Somehow I don't believe that they had a compendium of sexual acts in mind when they said that," Shin-chan says.

"Their loss." Kazunari kicks his feet idly. "So! See anything you liked? Did I miss anything? I can start a new list, if I did."

Shin-chan has to clear his throat and adjust his glasses before he can bring himself to answer. "You were very thorough," he says. He glances Kazunari's way and clears his throat again. Whatever he's working himself up to saying is going to be good, Kazunari can tell already. "I couldn't help noticing a certain theme."

Jackpot. Kazunari grins. "You did?"

"Of course I did." Shin-chan frowns and glances down at his lap—no, his hands. "Why are you so fixated on my hands?"

He's so adorably confused about it; he clearly can't conceive of what Kazunari could find so fascinating in them. Well, Kazunari can fix that. "Would you like a list?"

Shin-chan gives him an alarmed look. "You have a list for that, too?"

Kazunari has to laugh. "Naw, this is an impromptu deal." He pushes himself up and crawls down to the foot of his bed, where Shin-chan is sitting and eyeing him warily. "I can write it down for posterity later, maybe." He settles knee-to-knee with Shin-chan and picks up his off hand. "First of all, your hands are beautiful."

Shin-chan makes a noise, protesting, and tries to retrieve his hand from Kazunari's grasp.

Kazunari doesn't let him do it. "No, seriously, they are. Look at them." He traces his fingers over the back of Shin-chan's hand and down the long, graceful lengths of his fingers. Shin-chan's skin is smooth, even where it's toughened from ceaseless basketball practice, and his nails are better groomed than those of some girls Kazunari happens to know. "See how perfectly proportioned they are?"

"They're just hands," Shin-chan says, his voice pitched low. He tries to curl his hand into a fist, as though he thinks that will hide it from Kazunari's scrutiny.

Kazunari simply rubs his thumb over Shin-chan's knuckles, smoothing the pad of it over taut skin. "Not just hands." Kazunari turns his hand over and traces the faint blue lines of Shin-chan's veins. "I know what you can do with them." He runs his thumb up the center of Shin-chan's palm, coaxing him to uncurl his fingers. "I've seen you play basketball with them, remember?" He slants a smile at Shin-chan. "You're not going to try telling me that your basketball isn't beautiful either, are you?"

By the looks of it, there's nothing Shin-chan would like more. "It's as much your basketball as it is mine," he says, frowning.

What a change a year can make, Kazunari marvels. "Fine, our basketball is beautiful," he agrees.

Shin-chan frowns harder. "You're shameless."

"Of course I am." Kazunari grins at him. "You just got through looking at my lists of all the dirty, dirty things I want to do with you, remember? This can't possibly surprise you."

"Why do I put up with you?"

"I wonder about that sometimes, too." Kazunari lifts Shin-chan's hand to his mouth and kisses each of his fingertips in turn. Shin-chan turns pink as he does. "Moving on. I haven't managed to get you to play the piano for me—yet—but I have a pretty vivid imagination. I can just about see how you'd look, and trust me, it's a really nice mental image that I've got going on here." For all he knows, Shin-chan is a terrible musician, but that doesn't really matter. It's the idea of Shin-chan sitting in front of a piano with his perfect posture and his hands curved over the keys that matters.

Shin-chan blinks at him. "I can't believe you'd find the reality all that impressive," he says after a moment.

"You're gonna have to let me be the judge of that." Kazunari laces his fingers with Shin-chan's. "But anyway, on top of all that, there's knowing what your hands feel like on my skin when you're touching me, and what they feel like inside me, and that right there is all the reason anyone would need to believe me."

Shin-chan goes red again. "No one else knows about that!"

And doesn't that just give Kazunari all kinds of warm, fuzzy feelings? "I know. That makes it even better."

"Have I told you that you're crazy?"

Kazunari considers it. "Not today, come to think of it."

"You're crazy." Shin-chan pushes his glasses up. "And you haven't explained why so many of those things you wrote down specified that my fingers be taped."

"I dunno, why is lingerie sexy?" Kazunari shrugs as Shin-chan sputters over the comparison. "It's hiding what you know is there. It means you gotta use your imagination." He grins. "And I know how careful you are with that taping. I don't care if I am crazy, it'd be totally hot if you handled me with your fingers all wrapped up."

"It would ruin the tape," Shin-chan objects.

Kazunari laughs and leans forward so he can kiss Shin-chan. "Taping is cheap. I'd buy the stuff for the rest of my life, if you wanted, just to make it up to you."

Shin-chan gives him a long look, and then he nods. "Deal."

Kazunari raises his eyebrows, wondering if he's taking the right meaning from that. "Deal?"

Shin-chan is not—quite—smiling. "I'll write down the details of my preferred brand. A roll usually lasts me between ten and fourteen days."

Nope, no misunderstandings, it seems. "I think I just got conned," Kazunari says, honestly rather delighted.

"I don't have the slightest idea what it is you mean by that." Problem is, Shin-chan can't entirely keep his lips from twitching as he says so.

"You overgrown crook," Kazunari says, affectionate, and leans in to kiss him again. He catches just the edge of Shin-chan's quiet laugh against his lips, and honestly, that in itself is worth whatever percentage of his allowance he's just signed over to keeping Shin-chan supplied with taping for his fingers.

They're starting to get really good at getting each other undressed while making out, which is one of those important life skills that, regrettably, never shows up on any school curriculum. Kazunari likes how easy it's gotten, likes the whole process of trading kisses back and forth while they undo each other's buttons and wriggle out of their shirts, likes sneaking tastes of Shin-chan's throat or shoulder just for the way it makes his breath hitch when he does. Bare skin is even better for making out, especially since there's just so much of Shin-chan to appreciate. He hasn't told Shin-chan so yet, but sometimes Kazunari's favorite part is the part after they've gotten each other off, when they're still all tangled together and he can just run his hands over Shin-chan's skin to his heart's content.

He can't quite focus on the simple pleasures of that right now, though, not with the little thread of anticipation running through him. Shin-chan doesn't say things he doesn't mean and certainly doesn't make promises he doesn't intend to keep. That puts an edge of curiosity on the swell of arousal, especially when Kazunari kicks the last of his clothes off. Shin-chan draws back from his mouth then and passes his tongue over his lips as he looks at Kazunari, who lounges back on his hands and waits. Shin-chan draws a breath and reaches out to set the tips of his taped fingers against Kazunari's chest.

It's not really new—it's not as though Shin-chan's only ever used his off hand for this stuff—but this time there's intent and purpose behind it. The texture of the tape is rougher than bare skin; the friction of it drags a hot feeling down Kazunari's spine when Shintarou draws his fingers across his chest. Kazunari may be the one with a reputation for keen observational skills, but Shin-chan himself is no slouch. He notices Kazunari's response and acts on it, spreading his palm against his chest and rubbing his thumb over his nipple. He certainly doesn't miss the breath that hisses through Kazunari's teeth as the sensation ripples through him, or the way his cock twitches between his thighs. He looks at Kazunari, who shrugs. "Feels kind of intense," he says. "But you probably already knew that… right?"

Shin-chan knows better than to pretend that he doesn't understand what Kazunari's getting at. This doesn't stop him from trying to, in spite of the color staining his cheeks. "How should I know?" He rubs his thumb back and forth, probably hoping that it will be a distraction.

Really, he ought to know better.

Kazunari groans at the way heat sears through him and says, "What, you always take the tape off before jerking off?"

Yeah, Shin-chan knew exactly what he meant, because that doesn't even make him sputter. He purses his lips instead. "I've never fetishized the tape, so yes, I do." But there's a faintly speculative look in his eyes, one that deepens when he pinches Kazunari's nipple and Kazunari groans.

Kazunari drops his head back, panting at the friction of Shin-chan's fingers on his chest. "Should give it a try," he says, his breathing going ragged as he congratulates himself on broadening Shin-chan's horizons. "Fuck, Shin-chan…"

That's when Shin-chan makes a thoughtful sound and drops his hand to Kazunari's cock.

The feeling is enough to make Kazunari want to shout; he crams his fist against his mouth, because the roughness of the tape is even more stark when Shin-chan strokes his fingers over his cock. "Fuck," he gasps as Shin-chan touches him lightly, brushing his fingers over his shaft and nudging the foreskin back. When he strokes the head of his cock, Kazunari discovers what they mean when they describe someone writhing beneath a lover's touch—the sensation is so intense that he can't hold still for it, has to twist and arch and grip the blankets beneath him as it sears through him, commanding every particle of attention he has. His entire world narrows to that one thing, the nearly unbearable caress and the way pleasure balls itself at the base of his spine. When he comes, he comes fast and brutally hard, shouting as orgasm punches through him, and aftershocks of sensation continue to shudder through him even after it passes.

He can't even think after that, can't do more than pant for breath while he comes down and the mattress dips and shakes as Shin-chan moves. "I suppose you'll be adding this to the 'extremely awesome' list," he says.

Kazunari opens his eyes and grins at the ceiling, giddy. "You'd better believe it."

"I do." Shin-chan's voice has gone husky; the mattress shakes some more as he shifts forward, bracing himself over Kazunari. He looks about as stunned as Kazunari feels. "That was—impressive."

"Mmhm," Kazunari agrees happily, enjoying the endorphin high and trying to summon the wherewithal to return the favor for Shin-chan.

Turns out, Shin-chan already has some ideas about that. He nudges a knee between Kazunari's, coaxing him to spread his legs wider, which, hey, Kazunari is totally willing to do. He reaches up to kiss Shin-chan, who meets him halfway, and is utterly unprepared for it when Shin-chan reaches under him and fingers him with the taping still on, wet and rough against sensitive skin.

The realization jolts through Kazunari more forcefully than the actual sensation—Shin-chan's always so careful to keep his taping pristine, but right now it must be soaked with his come and lube. He almost whimpers as Shin-chan rubs his fingers back and forth, dizzy with how suddenly arousal has seized him again. Shin-chan stills his fingers immediately. "No?" he says, uncertain. "It was on the list…"

"No," Kazunari says, shuddering. "No, keep going, it's just a lot…"

Shin-chan hesitates and draws back to look at him, but whatever he sees on Kazunari's face satisfies him. He slides his fingers against Kazunari again, circles the tips of them against him, and Kazunari squeezes his eyes shut at the flood of sensation, his whole world collapsing in on itself again, consumed by the touch of Shin-chan's fingers. When Shin-chan nudges his fingertips against him, Kazunari shakes, gulping for breath with the way the stretch feels, layered with the roughness of the taping. It's almost too much to bear, verging on the point of discomfort, but Shin-chan moves slowly, carefully, and it never tips over that edge, not even when he begins to fuck Kazunari with shallow little strokes.

Kazunari doesn't even know what he says when Shin-chan eases a second finger into him. He's conscious, barely, of the sound of his own voice babbling as Shin-chan works him open, but his mouth may as well be disconnected from his brain for all the sense it's making to him now. All he's really aware of is the way his entire body is drawn tight by the slow back and forth of Shin-chan's fingers, building towards something that might be too intense to call pleasure. The moment Shin-chan draws his fingers back, Kazunari groans half in relief and half in disappointment.

After the friction of his fingers, the way Shin-chan's cock feels as he slides against him is shockingly sleek. Even the hard stretch of it as he sinks into Kazunari feels easy, as natural as breathing, although every instant of the first stroke flares nova-bright over the sensitized nerves of Kazunari's body. It's just as intense this way, with Shin-chan filling him up and fucking him hard, fast like he's as desperate as Kazunari feels.

He falls apart before he even realizes it, bucking up against Shin-chan as fire rakes through him. Shin-chan follows right after him, grinding against him as he comes. Then he collapses over Kazunari like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

Kazunari can't even find the breath to complain about his weight—he's too overwhelmed to do more than lie there, every bit of him buzzing with the afterglow.

"Nngh," Shin-chan says eventually.

That just about sums it up. "Yeah," Kazunari agrees, petting Shin-chan's hair clumsily. A thought occurs to him. "You know, you could make some lists of your own. If, you know, you wanted to."

Shin-chan takes so long to reply that Kazunari suspects him of having fallen asleep. Then he says, "I could, couldn't I?"

"Definitely," Kazunari says. "Just as comprehensive as you like, too."

"I'll keep that in mind," Shin-chan murmurs.

Kazunari is very sure that he will. He grins and threads his fingers into Shin-chan's hair. "Looking forward to what you come up with," he says, meaning every word of it.

end

…yeah, so daikonjou posted this fic, "harmonics in hot pink," and something in it pinged off something from the Items fic, and here we are. Every time I think I've plumbed the possibilities of hand porn, the plot bunnies go and prove me wrong.

Comments are always lovely!