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The night before, Midorima had blindfolded him and asked if it was all right. The silence was a yes, because yes was tantamount to surrender, and it was less of a surrender and more of a dare. Even Akashi couldn't help a physical reaction. Even Akashi couldn't bite back the feeling or know it in his muscles before it hit, so in fact they enjoyed every moment when they fell into bed together. Akashi with his sometimes nonsense rules, just for the sake of boundaries, and Midorima with his pathological and barely contained urge to break them. Akashi still knew where he would go, of course. Where they would end up, what moves Midorima would make, even how long it would last and obviously who would come first. But that's why he asked for things more specifically, almost always to extremes. Boundaries weren't simply guidelines, they were also challenges. Because in the absence of being surprised by the thing, he wanted to be surprised by the feeling of it, have his breath taken away by the things he couldn't be exact about.
"What's it even like, doing it with that guy?" Takao was pouting in his own snippy way, because Midorima didn't want to practice as hard as usual, and the nagging had persisted until Midorima was forced to admit why he felt exhausted. Takao slammed his locker shut and waited for an answer. He didn't like being cheated on, but he'd come to terms with Midorima's own boundaries and challenges, caring for him only in between them.
What did he mean by the question, Midorima wondered? What did he really want to know? Akashi. Akashi as a sexual being. It wasn't an easy concept to wrap the head around. He had a bit of fight in him. They played with resistance, with vocal and physical cues. He had a tight ass and a pretty cock, liked getting his nipples bitten. Akashi liked pain. Size mattered to him. He wanted it to be an event, every time. He liked it to hurt a little, every time. Sometimes a lot, depending on what he asked for. Yes, he always put himself on top. Yes, he screamed. Yes, he came. Yes, in the most basic and expected definition, he lost control. He didn't beg, not ever, but he was a director and a demander.
Harder, do it harder. Deeper. I want to feel you. Is that the best you can do? Is that all? Are you gonna come already? Don't disappoint me.
He also wouldn't like those secrets to be revealed. He'd put his hands to Midorima's throat one night, still moving on top of his cock, looked him right in the eyes and said "no one knows what we do alone together. Is that clear?"
In reply, Midorima only thrust his hips up harder. Didn't move his eyes. Didn't even twitch above the shoulders. The hands didn't leave his throat. Akashi sobbed ecstatically into his own shoulder and tightened them when he came. He got off on penetration, Midorima figured, more as a psychological than a physical pleasure. And he was ashamed of it, only in the deepest and most unaware way.
"Akashi likes to get fucked," Midorima finally answered Takao simply, purposefully crass about it so he would be left alone.