Uneasy
Disclaimer: Don't own
Kise pushes the dark glasses up on Midorima's face and peers into the widening eyes. No matter how many times he looks at them, they're incredibly beautiful and incredibly fascinating. He's close enough to see the blue rings of the contact lenses around the bright green irises (today's sunglasses are nonprescription; he's guessing they were once a lucky item). Midorima blinks several times, his eyelashes so thick that a few rapid blinks almost merge into one slow blink. He presses his lips to Kise's quickly, and Kise's fingers slip slightly. The glasses fall back down onto Midorima's nose and he jumps slightly.
Voices pass by, and Midorima stiffens. Kise sighs softly into Midorima's chest, letting the noise be muffled. It's so exhausting to keep this all secret, especially with school and work and basketball already eating up more time than he has. But at the same time, going public would cause more drama and headaches for them both, and Kise wants Midorima all to himself. He likes making Midorima blush when no one else is around (not too hard, true, but harder than it used to be) and make him breathe faster and watch his pupils dilate. He wants to be the only one to see that. He likes to push his limits when they're flirting around other people, likes to see Midorima sweat and attempt to make it look like they're Totally Not Dating (which, of course, serves to make everyone wonder if they Totally Are Dating). Besides, when they're alone, Midorima doesn't shove him away as much and breathes easier. He's so self-conscious (which is actually one of the things that attracts and interests Kise—how can a guy this smart, motivated, talented, and attractive be so lacking in self-confidence, so seemingly unwilling to let himself be loved? Kise has several theories. One of them, which he considers least likely, is that it has something to do with Akashi. Even before that weird incident with his eyes, he was always scary and always asserted his dominance. It makes sense that he would want to and be able to break Midorima. But that's not quite right. Everything comes seemingly easy to him now, and certainly as a child everything must have been almost effortless. But somewhere along the line, Midorima may have begun to see how many people were better than he was, how many people were better than he could ever be at everything. He is smart enough to not fool himself into thinking he can always be the best, but he does not quite have the makeup to reach that status, which frustrates him to no end.
But he was so used to being on top that he refused to change his façade and started to attribute everything to luck. He's too proud to not project a facade of self-confidence, but it is veiled thinly).
What strikes Kise, what has always struck Kise, about Midorima is that he always seems so lonely. Akashi's that way, too, sort of, but not really; he's self-sufficient. He truly believes himself above others, and when he is in their company it should be considered a treat for them. He holds himself at arm's length because he is haughty. Midorima does not get too close with anyone, instinctively shrinks from others' touches. He's cool toward everyone because he's afraid of losing them, although it doesn't really matter if he never has them in the first place. He is afraid that they will see beyond the facade (which, in a way, a lot of them do) and hate his real self. And that is why Kise says Midorima is his least-favourite teammate. Because, somehow, that seems to be what Midorima wants to hear. He can cope with being hated, with having nothing to do with his teammates off the basketball court. People have confidence in him, but he puts pressure on himself to do even better than their expectations. He cannot stop until he is the undisputed #1 shooting guard in the country (perhaps even the world), until he is ranked as the best in his class, until he beats Akashi at shogi every day for a month. He is never satisfied with himself; if he gets a perfect score on his test he should have finished faster and even though he makes all his shots he should have found a way to take more, and he should have defended better in that one drive even though it's inconsequential in the scheme of things, because Shutoku wins almost all of their games by large margins. Compliments make him squeamish, because he feels he doesn't deserve them. He's heard them too many times; he hears about how beautiful his shot is so much he's started to doubt the legitimacy. Those words have lost most of their meaning.
But Kise is patient; Kise wants to see the real Midorima, and slowly but surely Midorima reveals himself to Kise. And as nice as it is to have these parts of Midorima all to himself, Kise also wants to show him off to the world. He's got so many hidden depths that no one bothers to find. He doesn't volunteer these things about himself because he thinks other people won't care (and, truthfully, most of the time they don't). It's easy to lose sight of how smart he is when all you see is the basketball and the odd speech and the superstition. It's easy to not know about how good of a cook he is, because he doesn't cook for himself and rarely for others (but Kise had invited him over and whined about being hungry and Midorima had whipped up a delicious, rich cake out of the few random ingredients in his kitchen). It's easy to not realize how much of an artist he is, with a paintbrush or on the piano, or even through his written words (excluding his favourite text message to Kise, of course).
"Ryouta," Midorima says, amusement threaded through his voice. "Are you going to hold onto my sunglasses forever?"
Kise slowly drops his hand to rest on Midorima's shoulder, right along the base of his neck and rubs Midorima's collarbone with his thumb. Midorima hums, more comfortable with this position.
Perhaps another reason Midorima likes this arrangement is because if no one knows, then it's okay to doubt how real it actually is. It sort of feels like a dream, just being here with him, alone, with no cues as to how things are going in the real world. And it's a lovely dream, too. Kise does not want to shatter everything by introducing the relationship to uncontrollable factors.
They walk home together, not holding hands but talking freely and candidly. Midorima's wry grin could power the world for a few years at least, Kise thinks. They're following the familiar route to Kise's house, and Kise hopes that this is finally going to be the night he stays over, but it's not. He gives Kise a smoldering goodbye kiss behind the rose bushes, though, and he can't stop touching his lips for the rest of the day.
There are times when Kise wonders how long it will last, whether they're headed down a doomed path of no return. Because it's been too long for them to be able to justify the secrecy to everyone else, and by now they've more than proven themselves to one another. But they both refuse to do anything in public except stare longingly and play footsie under the table (sometimes Kise puts his hand on Midorima's leg and drags it upward, upward, upward until Midorima yanks it off and places it back in Kise's lap, and won't let go of his wrist until they stand up to leave). But he shakes those thoughts out of his head because it won't be worth it if he's too busy doubting it to enjoy it.
And one day, in the middle of third year, they're hanging out with everyone after practice, just kind of goofing off in the park, and Midorima half-unconsciously snakes his arm around Kise's waist and pulls him closer. Kise looks up at him questioningly, and Midorima gives him a pointed look that says, "Fuck it. I'm tired of this."
And as nice as it was to have Midorima all to himself, this might be even nicer, being out at night with a warm and supportive arm around him or being able to hold hands and not make a big deal out of it or just feeling a general sense of closeness. The excitement generated from the need to hide the relationship is replaced by the relief of not having to hide anything. They are free because Midorima has begun to untangle himself (with Kise's help) from the old expectations and the pressure.