Because of Reasons

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Murasakibara Atsushi is not generally a person who considers the why of things. Things simply are as they are—something that is hard to explain to some people, especially Muro-chin. Muro-chin is a thoughtful kind of guy, who reasons out many things and spends so much time, well, thinking. Oh, Atsushi thinks, too, but he does not think about reasons. He thinks about snacks and basketball and sleeping and people (mostly Mido-chin). Muro-chin thinks about why he's hungry right now and how to make his reaction time one hundredth of a second faster and if he can cut back on sleeping in favor of basketball practice and how he compares to other people (mostly that Kagami guy, and sometimes Atsushi, and sometimes other people entirely).

And Muro-chin doesn't like Mido-chin, something that drives Atsushi crazy, because why can't they just get along? (Mido-chin doesn't like Muro-chin, either, but Mido-chin doesn't like anyone, so that's really not a problem.) He asks Muro-chin this, and Muro-chin replies with that evil smile that occasionally graces his poker face and says, "I think Midorima-san is a jealous guy," and leaves it at that.

This time, Atsushi's left wondering what exactly Muro-chin means, but he doesn't dwell on it this time. Thinking about this sort of thing exhausts him and makes him hungry, so he wanders off to buy a chocolate bar.

"Atsushi, why do you like that guy, anyway?" Muro-chin asks him when he returns, and Atsushi pauses mid-bite.

"Well," he says, continuing to chew. "Mido-chin is Mido-chin." After all, Atsushi likes Mido-chin because he's Mido-chin and not Aka-chin or Muro-chin or Kuro-chin (although he likes all of them very much).

"But what about Midorima-san is it, specifically?" Muro-chin says. "Like, if he was a chocolate, why would you like him instead of another brand?"

Oh. When he puts it that way, it's much easier to understand what he's getting at. "Mido-chin is the perfect height for kissing."

Muro-chin stares back blankly, as if he expects Atsushi to say something else. "Is that it?"

No, but it's too complicated to put into words. "I'm tired, Muro-chin."

He hasn't been able to stop thinking about that question since Muro-chin asked it, mostly because he thinks about Mido-chin a lot, and it's made him curious to find out exactly why Mido-chin likes him.

Atsushi flops back onto his bed, phone pressed tightly to his ear. "Mido-chin, why do you like me?"

He only hears Mido-chin's breathing on the other end for a bit. The way it's slightly shallower than usual must mean he's blushing. Atsushi smiles. "What kind of question is that?" Mido-chin says, finally.

"Like…" What did Muro-chin say? "If I'm a chocolate, why would you choose me over Nestle or Meiji?"

"What?" Now Mido-chin just sounds confused. "Murasakibara, I don't have time for this right now. I'm in practice—"

"No, no. I like Mido-chin because he's the perfect height for kissing, but why do you like me?"

"Well, it's not because you keep calling me when I'm practicing."

The line goes dead. Typical Mido-chin. Atsushi supposes that's another reason why he likes Mido-chin, because he's so stubborn and pretends he doesn't care. It's so easy to push his buttons, even for someone like Atsushi. If he doesn't care and needs to be in practice right now, why does he keep picking up the phone whenever Atsushi calls? That is a why question that answers itself, although Atsushi tucks it in the back of his mind to ask Mido-chin later. Although, that might stop Mido-chin from picking up for a while…hmm. Atsushi opens a box of matcha pocky from his bedside table and dumps the first packet into his mouth. It's lovely and rich and sweet and crunchy. He sighs in contentment, and then does much the same with the second packet.

Okay, time to call Mido-chin again. He picks up on the third ring.

"Shouldn't you be doing your homework?"

Atsushi pointedly ignores this question. "Hey, Mido-chin, what are you wearing?"

"Damn it, Murasakibara, I'm practicing!"

"Oh, so a sweaty shirt and—"

The line goes dead again. Oh, well. He's been feeling kind of horny, lately, too, probably because it's been ages since he's seen Mido-chin, and for some reason he just doesn't feel like jacking it to a porno or anything, and thinking about Mido-chin is just no substitute for the real thing. Atsushi really wishes Mido-chin was here, because he does such nice things with his hands and his voice is so lovely. He closes his eyes.

Atsushi decides to take the bullet train to Tokyo. It's one of those things, when he wakes up and decides he wants to see Mido-chin right now. Waiting for the train is so boring that he almost falls asleep, and on the train he just stares out the window. Why can't they just teleport to Tokyo? Why can't Mido-chin just live up here? Why didn't Mido-chin come to Yosen, too? Why are the chips running out? Is he turning into Muro-chin? Why is he thinking of all these questions? They're rattling around in his brain and keeping him from falling asleep again and he doesn't like it at all. Maybe he should have asked Muro-chin to come with him. He would fill the silence and keep Atsushi from thinking these thoughts.

As if on cue, his cell phone starts ringing. It's Muro-chin. "Atsushi, where are you?"

"The train."

"What train?"

"The one to Mido-chin."

"Please just tell me next time that you're going, okay?"

Finally, the train arrives in Tokyo. It's always nice to be home, to see the familiar sights and eat the familiar food, but that's not what Atsushi's here for this time. Maybe later he can stop at his favourite candy store, but right now the important thing is getting to Mido-chin. But where is he right now? Atsushi forgets exactly where Mido-chin's house is, and he might have gone out to eat…

Mido-chin picks up on the second ring this time. "Hello?"

"Mido-chin, where are you?"

"I'm at the supermarket. I need to get stuff for dinner right now, so—"

"Which supermarket?"

"Wait. Where are you? Are you in Tokyo?"

"Atsushi, you're so impulsive," Mido-chin grumbles. Atsushi wraps his arms around Mido-chin tightly so that he can't pull away even if he wants to. He's so tensed up; perhaps the station isn't the best meeting place.

"So that's why Mido-chin likes me," Atsushi says, finally releasing him and rifling through the plastic grocery bag on Mido-chin's arm. The chips are near the bottom, but they're not crushed. Mido-chin had chosen his favourite brand of chips, too.

"You're not only impulsive but you're reckless, childish…" He makes them sound like they're bad things.

It's so nice just being with Mido-chin, Atsushi decides. Mido-chin understands exactly what he wants sometimes, without any words at all. They get into the house and put away the groceries, and then they're in the bedroom and Mido-chin is discarding both of their clothes quicker than Atsushi has ever seen him do anything. Mido-chin's hands are better than he remembered, and his voice is enough on its own to bring Atsushi to the edge. And Mido-chin inside of him is all kinds of wonderful, because he hits the spot with almost every thrust and his eyes are beautiful with his pupils enlarged and just a small green ring around each. Damn.

And Atsushi can't really isolate his eyes or his understanding or his hands or his voice or his cock or his height (that'd be weird if it was just one of those), because it's not really the individual things that make Mido-chin special, it's that all of these things combine to make Mido-chin. So he hugs Mido-chin closer since he can't get enough of any of it.