[Tenipuri] Not Your Mother's Hair Removal

Title: Not Your Mother's Hair Removal
Pairing/Characters: Sanada/Yukimura
Rating: PG/PG-13 for language
Word Count: 906
Summary: Sport tape is not a good hair removal option.
Notes: Written for crystalusagi with the prompt of Sanada, Yukimura, and leghair. Completely silly and retarded.


"You could have made this far easier on yourself, Genichirou." Yukimura muttered, his fingers busying themselves plucking at the end of a piece of tape. "If you'd taken my advice before, it wouldn't hurt as much."

That was the scene: One late afternoon in the locker room, Yukimura smiling smugly to himself as he pulled, wincing slightly with the barely audible sound of something ripping and Sanada bellowing loudly in pain. The piece of sport tape lay by itself to the side -- the sticky side peppered with a virtual forest of long, dark hair.

"You did that on purpose, asshole." Sanada grunted, a hand rubbing the now red and raw patch of skin around his ankle. "If you'd done it like I told you to, it wouldn't have hurt." He was a man, and as a man he couldn't control how or where his hair grew. If Yukimura had listened to him and peeled the tape off slowly, his leg wouldn't look as if it were a forest that had been clear-cut.

"On the contrary, if you had listened to me, you wouldn't be sitting here whining, you big crybaby." Yukimura got back to his feet, the used tape picked up gingerly and deposited into a nearby trash can. "It really does work wonders, you know."

"I'm not a woman." The glare Sanada gave would have frightened most people, but Yukimura simply smiled.

"Waxing your legs does not make you a woman, Genichirou. Swimmers do it all the time."

"Swimmers wax all of their body hair, for a reason. Having to tape my ankle once in a while is not a good enough reason for me to wax my legs." Honestly, a man wasn't a man without his body hair. He was fifteen, he did not need to look like he was five.

Yukimura snorted and kneeled again, pulling Sanada's foot into his lap and wrapping a clean length of tape around his ankle. "So shave them. It'll grow back faster and you can do it right before you tape."

"I'm not shaving my legs." Sanada replied firmly, arms folding across his chest and mouth set in a hard line of displeasure. Yukimura thought Sanada couldn't have looked any more as if he were pouting if he actually tried.

"Akaya does it, and you don't hear him complaining about his knees, do you?" Not that Yukimura thought that Kirihara was the best of examples, their younger teammate didn't exactly have much body hair to speak of as it was.

Nope. Not convinced. "Akaya also enjoys parading around in whatever dress his sister shoves him in." It was rather frightening, really.

"Renji shaves his wrists."

"Renji probably thinks it will increase the speed of his swing by two millionths of a second by reducing the wind resistance."

"You're being stubborn again."

"You're being an asshole again."

There they sat in a stalemate, neither one willing to budge. For all Sanada glared, Yukimura frowned right back; neither speaking or moving. After several minutes of sizing each other up in silence, Yukimura finally spoke.

"Don't knock it before you've tried it, Genichirou." Yukimura pressed his palm to his chin, nose twitching slightly in thought. "I'll bet you a thousand that once you try it, you'll wonder why you never thought of it before."

"I don't need your money. And I'm still not going to shave my legs."

"Not your whole leg. Just where you tape. That way even when you are wearing shorts no one will notice."

"No." As soon as Yukimura was finished with his ankle Sanada promptly pulled his sock and shoe back on and stood. "Thanks for the advice, but no thanks." He stepped away to gather his things, equipment shoved into his bag and keys pulled out of his pocket.

Yukimura, naturally, was not to be deterred. "Three thousand and if you win I'll wear a dress and sing Ayu in front of the whole school."

Sanada paused on his way to the door. Potential payback for all of the times Yukimura had gone out of his way to embarrass him? Now things were getting interesting. "And if I lose?"

"If you lose, you owe me three thousand yen." Yukimura replied simply. "And . . ."

"And?" He did not like the sound of this.

"And you sing one song of my choosing at the talent show next month. No complaints."

Well, that didn't sound too bad. Yukimura did have a fairly decent taste in music, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad. "Deal. But I get to choose what I wear. If I lose."

And the bet was on.

It took a record two days for Sanada to admit defeat. Yukimura (the asshole) had been right, pulling sport tape off when one had no body hair was far easier and less painful. All he could hope for now was that Yukimura had some sort of heart, and wouldn't be too hard on him.

One afternoon the song and lyrics were delivered with, what must have been Yukimura's idea of a joke, a bottle of Nair.

Despite how foul-smelling the stuff was it seemed to work fairly well, and one month later a leather-clad and leg-hair-less Sanada Genichirou was gyrating across the school's stage singing something that sounded suspiciously like rocking naughty bodies in heavily accented English.

He never did manage to get the video tape from Yukimura.