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and-it-freezes-me · 3 years

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Little Red Lies - Chapter 1

Or, AUgust 2021 Day 10 - Fake Dating

{Next}

Words: 5,439

[Booked tckts yet? virge wants 2 check u still need 2 places 4 reception dinner]

Trash Rat 22:57

[cant w8 2 meet ur new ~date~]

Trash Rat 22:58

Roman stared at the messages for several long seconds, then groaned.

[Of course I booked tickets. Yes I still need the +1 seat.]

Roman 23:04

[cant believe u havent even sent a pic or yk a name]

Trash Rat 23:06

[no shame if ur still </3 ovr remy]

Trash Rat 23:06

[even tho its been 2 yrs now]

Trash Rat 23:07

[Of course I’m over remy. You’ll meet my boyfriend when we get there. He’s shy.]

Roman 23:07

Roman seriously considered throwing his phone across the room and booking a plane ticket to Alaska rather than Manhattan. That way, he wouldn’t have to go to his brother’s wedding and admit that he was most definitely single and most definitely not over his ex boyfriend (of seventeen months - two years was an unfair exaggeration).

[u kno virge h8s not knowing whos coming to his wedding right]

Trash Rat 23:10

[I know, I know, I’ll apologise as soon as we get there. He’ll be first to meet my bf, promise.]

Roman 23:11

[book ur fuckin plane tckts ro, I know u didnt do it yet]

Trash Rat 23:11

Roman threw his phone across the room.

It bounced off of his Heathers poster and landed on his desk, which was covered in scripts, textbooks, empty takeout containers, balled up bits of paper, crumpled drinks cans, and pens, and Roman buried his face in his pillow and groaned.

Ten months ago, Roman’s sister had flown down to Los Angeles, dragged Roman out of bed and announced that he was actually Roman’s brother. Almost sooner than Roman had been able to take this in stride, Virgil had added that he was marrying his boyfriend in December and would Roman mind being one of his groomsmen? While Roman was still reeling from the bombshell that was the fact that their gremlin of an elder brother Remus was Virgil’s best man, Virgil had leaned forward and asked if Roman was doing alright because he couldn’t help but notice that his dorm room resembled ‘the result of an explosive going off in a pigsty’.

Roman had blinked dumbly at him, nodded, and then started pressing for details about Virgil’s wedding. Eventually, his brother had promised that he’d get Patton, his fiance, to call Roman to discuss every detail, from location to napkin frills, and Roman felt that he had managed to avoid the topic of how he was doing.

When he and Remy had first broken up, midway through last July, Roman had gone to pieces. He had spent the end of the summer holiday between his first and second years locked in his room and listening to the same few songs on loop until Virgil, who was three years older and had been packing his things to move into his new apartment, had put his fist through the wall between their rooms. Then Roman had put his headphones on. It wasn’t Virgil’s fault that he was too uncivilised to appreciate the wonders of ‘Michael In The Bathroom’, ‘Someone You Loved’, or ‘Impossible’, after all.

Then Roman had gone back to university, where he had tried to drown himself in reading for his degree, and instead ended up sleeping through lectures after all-night crying sessions. He had tried to submerge himself in his essays and instead ended up daydreaming about his ex-boyfriend in study sessions. He had tried to get involved in theatre productions, but every audition had gone sour, and he often ended up thinking about the few times he and Remy had met up over the previous year rather than learning his lines.

Everyone had said that long distance relationships would be hard, but Roman, the romantic fool that he was, had insisted that they could do it.

They couldn’t.

Eight months ago, nine months after the two of them had broken up, two months after Virgil had announced his wedding plans, Remus and his partner had flown into Los Angeles and tried to stage an intervention. This had involved Remus trying to seduce the campus security guard and almost getting reported to the police (Roman had always insisted that his mustache only made him look sketchy), followed by Janus sneaking past the pair of them and into the building. Remus had somehow managed to join him moments later, and the two of them had somehow made their way up to Roman’s floor without alerting anyone else of their presence.

Roman had been woken by a furious hammering at his bedroom door at a little after four in the morning, and had to wade through a mess of papers and laundry to find that the two of them had knocked on every single door on his corridor, unable to remember which was his. He had not been popular with his dormmates the next day.

Their intervention had involved sitting on Roman’s bed and sharing the leftover pizza that had been on Roman’s desk for the last three days, and telling him to wash the dirty clothes all over his floor. Then they had tried to persuade him to accompany them to a bar to hook him up with somebody, and Roman had quickly concluded that the pair was somewhat drunk.

He had vehemently refused, and when Janus had eventually rolled onto his back, dark hair dangling off the edge of the bed and onto the sticky patch of carpet that Roman had spilled soda on three weeks ago, he practically whined that Roman was being very difficult when all they were doing was trying to help him.

“Trying to help me? You’ve disturbed the people I live with at fuck-o’clock in the morning! I have class tomorrow!” Roman was sat at his desk chair, trying very hard to ignore the stack of textbooks he was supposed to have read and hadn’t.

Remus rested a hand on Janus’ hip to stop him from rolling off the bed, and raised a lazy eyebrow at him. “Cut the bullshit, little bro. We all know you haven’t been to class in… How long, Jan?”

“Two months, three weeks, and four days,” Janus sing-songed.

“How the fuck do you know that?” It sounded about right, anyway, and Roman had a feeling that if he denied it this would just take even longer. He spun around in his chair and picked up a pen from his desk. “It’s my business if I don’t go to class.”

“Called my sister. Jannie takes all your classes, you know…” There was the sound of shifting fabric, and when Roman glanced back, Janus was sitting up and tucked under Remus’ arm again, looking very much as though Remus had just placed him there.

“You’re right, Ro. It’s not my business if you’re not going to class.” One of Remus’ hands trailed slowly up and down Janus’ arm, so casually Roman could almost believe that his brother didn’t realise he was doing it. “But it is my business that my little brother isn’t taking care of himself anymore. You haven’t answered my calls since before winter break. You obviously haven’t been eating healthily - this pizza tastes like you fished it out of the garbage, by the way, and I would know - and you look as though you haven’t seen the sunlight since last July.”

The assessment wasn’t quite fair. Roman might have been skipping classes, but it wasn’t as though he had just been lying in his room and wasting away! “I went to the gym last week. And I auditioned for the musical in March. I’m fine, Remus! Can I go to bed now?”

“No! We’re going to a club!”

Janus had nodded enthusiastically at Remus’ words, then rested his head on his partner’s shoulder as Roman shook his head slowly. “I don’t want to go to a club. I want to go to bed. I have class tomorrow.”

“Nope.” Remus’ hand rose to tangle absently in Janus’ hair. “We’re going to a club, and you’re gonna find some hottie to fuck all the yearning for Remy right out of you. Then you’ll feel much better!”

“You’re pulling my ha-”

“Fuck no. We’re not doing that.” Roman pressed his palms into his eyes, then stood up and jerked his door open. “Can you go now?”

“Give me one good reason why you getting laid is a bad thing right now, Ro, and we’ll leave.” Roman had gotten as far as opening his mouth before Remus interrupted. “See? You can’t. You need to move on, man. Clinging to Remy is clearly unh-”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“-ealthy, and- What?”

Maybe it was because it was four in the morning. Maybe it was because Roman hadn’t been sleeping well anyway, and Remus had managed to step on the last of his fraying nerves. Maybe it was just because he wished it was true.

“I have a boyfriend,” Roman repeated, and felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the obvious shock on Janus’ usually impassive face. “Three months. Met just after term started. It’s pretty serious, actually.”

“Bullshit.” Remus looked half impressed.

Now it was irritation that flickered through Roman. Was it really so unbelievable that he could have found somebody else? “It’s not.”

“You fucked yet?”

“Remus…” There was a warning note in Janus’ voice, and Remus sighed.

“None of my business. Got it. Do we get to meet him?”

“He’s shy.”

“Which is another way of saying he doesn’t exist.”

“Asshole. It’s another way of saying that it’s four in the fucking morning and he’s asleep. You’ll meet him at the wedding, anyway - I’m going to ask him to be my plus one when Patton sends out the RSVP date.” The words had been out of his mouth before he had had time to regret them, and Roman had spent the last eight months trying to sidestep questions about his non-existent boyfriend.

He had later found out that Remus and Janus hadn’t really come down to see him. They had gone to Los Angeles to celebrate their two year wedding anniversary and decided they might drop in while in the area. (Just because they had eloped rather than holding a big party, Janus had commented idly, didn’t mean they couldn’t celebrate it).

But now it was December, and Roman was partner-less and running out of excuses. His lie had gotten out of control, and he had ended up asking Patton and Virgil to include his partner in the guest numbers. He had invented dates they had been on for his mother when she had asked, and he insisted that his boyfriend was shy and had practically no internet presence anyway, so knowing his name wouldn’t help anybody.

He could just say that the two of them had broken up and go home alone, of course.

But that would mean disrupting the meticulous wedding seating plan Virgil and Patton had been making for months.

Besides, Roman was fairly certain that nobody in his family really believed in his mystery boyfriend, and failure to produce one after months of insisting that they would meet… Well, he didn’t want to open himself to that sort of ridicule.

Of course, it didn’t look as though he had much choice.

He hadn’t managed to make many friends at college.

In his first year, Roman had spent a lot of time trying to keep on top of his schoolwork and working toward the various theatre productions the school had put on; all of his free time he had spent planning dates for when he and Remy finally visited one another, or else video calling his boyfriend. There simply hadn’t been time to make many friends during that.

His second year… Well, Remus had been right. He had spent most of his time in his room, eating junk food, watching sappy romance films, and missing Remy.

So far, he had spent his third year trying to bring his grades back up to something more respectable… And missing Remy.

He knew it was pathetic. It had been almost a year and a half since they had broken up, and he still missed being able to call someone to talk about nothing at all at two in the morning, missed planning extravagant dates, missed the feel of hands in his hair and lips on his.

At least his floor was cleaner than it had been last year. And he had eaten slightly less fast food this semester than the previous one.

Roman’s phone chimed again. With a frustrated groan, he made his way over to his desk.

[Looking forward to seeing you on Monday!!! <3 <3 <3 !!!]

Pops 23:25

Patton.

[Me too, Padre! I’ll bring some of that fudge from the shop you love!]

Roman 23:26

[eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee <33333333 Can you get some of the currents+salt? Vee loved it last time + I want to surprise him]

Pops 23:26

[Will do. Looking forward to seeing you too!]

Roman 23:27

Patton would probably be the most understanding if Roman decided to come clean about his lying - but Patton was the worst secret keeper Roman had ever met. He and Virgil had been dating for almost three years, and in that time the thin voice actor had managed to spill every single plot twist in every single show he had watched or acted in. Roman had no doubt that Virgil would know that he was bringing home fudge within the next hour. If he admitted to Patton that he had been lying about having a date for the wedding, Roman would get Patton’s kind - if confused - reassurances, and half an hour later he would get the mixture of mockery and horrible pity that would come with the rest of his family finding out that he still wasn’t over Remy.

Roman let his phone slip through his fingers and land on his desk once more. Three days, and then he’d have to come clean - until then, he could just avoid thinking about it. Collecting the overflowing basket from the corner of the room (he had been putting off doing laundry for a while now), Roman left his room and headed toward the building’s basement laundry room. Term had finished last week and it was almost midnight - he doubted anybody would be down there now. Most people had probably already gone home, or were making the most of the free time to go out rather than spend it doing chores.

The light was off in the basement when he got there, so Roman left it that way as he loaded his clothing into one of the machines.

Moving around in the dark was far more of a Virgil move than a Roman one, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something comforting about the-

“Sweet fucking Shakespeare!” Roman’s hand flew up to cover his eyes as light burst through the small room, quickly followed by the strong smell of coffee.

“Sorry! I was unaware that there would be anybody in here.” As Roman dropped his hand, blinking owlishly in the sudden light, the newcomer made his way over to the machine on the far side of the room from him. “Most people prefer not to fumble around in the dark.”

Remus or Remy would have made some comment about how fumbling around in the dark could be quite fun really. Roman just shrugged. “It’s been a long day.”

He had expected the other man to say something; instead, silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of the powder tray being opened, filled, and closed again.

Roman didn’t mean to stare, but he couldn’t help it. He had seen the person in the room next to him only twice so far this term, and only knew his name because the mailroom was organised by room number rather than alphabetically, and the name Roman Prince was right next to Logan Ursa.

Logan looked more tired than he had on either of the other times Roman had seen him. There were deep bags under his eyes, the shadows almost deeper than Virgil’s had been at the height of his eyeliner experiments, and the black ponytail that hung halfway to his waist was missing, replaced with what could only be described as a thicket of tangled hair. It looked as though he had been outside even less than Roman had in the past few months: his skin was so pale it seemed to glow under the fluorescent laundry-room lights. There was a steaming mug and a thick book on the lid of the machine beside him, and Roman had the strong feeling that it wasn’t the first coffee Logan had had that evening.

The washing machine Logan had been loading began to rumble, and as the other student straightened up and picked up his book, Roman made himself duck back down to finish his own task.

He’d have to come back to collect his clothing later - Roman suddenly regretted deciding to get this done now, when it meant he would have to return at almost two in the morning, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now.

“Do you want me to leave the light on?” He was more trying to make conversation than anything else: Logan was perched on one of the machines in the corner, nose already buried in what Roman could now see was a heavy medical textbook.

“Obviously.”

Yeah, he probably should have guessed that.

Logan was still in the laundry room when Roman returned to collect his clothing two hours later. He was still sat on the same machine, although now he was speaking into his phone in what sounded like rapid Italian. (It definitely wasn’t Spanish: Roman was almost fluent in Spanish). (The languages were similar, but although he could guess at a few words, he had no idea what was going on). (Not that he was eavesdropping, of course). Logan’s hair was even messier than it had been before, and out of the corner of his eye Roman caught him jerking his free hand through it once or twice.

Roman pulled his now-warm and dry clothing from the machine and dumped it into his laundry basket, doing his best to ignore the way Logan was practically shouting behind him, but couldn’t stop himself from startling at the wordless, frustrated yell that came from the taller man a few minutes later. He was halfway to the door, but paused and glanced at Logan, who was stuffing his phone angrily into the oversized hoodie he was wearing.

“Everything okay over there?”

“Family stuff,” came the snappish response. Roman watched for a few seconds as Logan knelt in front of his own machine and began jerking clothing from it, folding pants as though he wished he were ripping them to pieces instead, then throwing several dark shirts over his shoulder and stalking over to one of the ironing stations.

“Pretty loud family stuff,” Roman commented, then wondered why he was bothering. It had been clear from his first meeting with Logan that the other student wasn’t there to make friends: Roman had been carrying a large cardboard box into his room the day he had moved in, and bumped into him in the hallway. Logan had looked him up and down, said something like, “Keep the volume down. I’m here to work,” and marched past him as though Roman were no more interesting than a hat stand.

Sure enough, Logan didn’t turn to face him, instead ironing a shirt in a manner that strongly hinted that he wanted to make it beg for mercy. “None of your business family stuff.”

“Are you-”

“None. Of your. Business.” This time, Logan actually did glance over his shoulder, and fixed Roman with a scowl that suggested that if he didn’t drop it, his face was going to be the next thing under the iron.

Roman left quickly. He had done his best to be friendly, and if Logan wasn’t interested, that was his problem. He didn’t seem like the sort of person Roman would really want to be friends with anyway.

Logan’s haggard expression lingered in his mind as he made his way back up to his dorm room and began stuffing his now-clean clothes into his wardrobe. He should probably start packing - his suitcase was sitting open and empty against one wall - but he had plenty of time.

Besides, he was exhausted.

Roman had changed into a pair of sweatpants and gotten into bed by the time he heard the door to the room next to his slam shut. Clearly, Logan was still annoyed by whatever ‘family stuff’ had had him first yelling into his phone and then taking his frustration out on his laundry and somebody trying to be friendly.

How long could Logan hold a grudge? Was he the kind of person who would calm down after a couple of hours of sleep, or would whatever he had been arguing about be hanging over him for the next week or so? That would make the winter break uncomfortable…

Or maybe he wasn’t going home. He had looked pretty invested in the textbook he had been studying earlier, despite it being almost midnight and no longer termtime. Maybe Logan was going to stay in the dorms over the winter break and use the hours without lectures for private study.

That sounded like a lonely way to spend the next three weeks.

The idea struck Roman suddenly, and he sat bolt upright in bed, the kind of elation that only comes with golden inspiration coursing through him. He would persuade Logan to come back home with him for the holidays! If Janus took it to mind to ask Janine about him, she’d be able to verify that Logan didn’t socialise much; all he would have to do would be show up briefly for the wedding, and he could spend the remainder of the holiday studying all he wanted, away from ‘family stuff’!

He would ask Logan the following morning, and when he agreed, Roman would book the plane tickets home - he’d pay, of course. Or rather, he’d use the money his mother had sent him so that he could bring his fictional boyfriend home. Either way, Logan wouldn’t have to spend any money himself!

Laying back down, Roman pulled his thin blanket back up to his neck and rolled onto his side, satisfaction warming him more thoroughly than any hot drink could.

This was the best idea he’d ever had.

“That is the worst idea I have ever heard.” Logan glanced into the hallway over Roman’s shoulder as though expecting an audience for a practical joke. “I cannot believe you have wasted my time listening to you.”

“Is… That a maybe?” Roman tilted his head and gave Logan his best puppy eyes.

Alas, Logan’s heart must have been made of stone. “No.” He made to slam the door.

Well, Roman couldn’t have that. It had been difficult enough to get Logan to even open the door in the first place, and harder still to get him to listen beyond the initial “I need you to do me a huge favour, okay, but it works out for you too.” In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have led with that. But then he had explained, and for some reason Logan was still trying to close the door on him.

“Ow!”

“That was entirely your fault.”

“You just slammed the door on my foot!”

“You did put your foot there after I had begun closing the door. My point stands.”

Technically, Logan was correct, but Roman wasn’t there to quibble over technicalities. “You got the part where I’d pay for your flights, right? All you have to do is show up for one day in something resembling formalwear, and in return you get rent free accommodation and food all holiday! Plus company!”

“I have too much to do to pretend to be your boyfriend for three weeks for no reason. Find somebody else.” Logan made to close the door again, and this time Roman caught it with his hand.

“There is nobody else!” Roman was aware that he was beginning to sound desperate. “You’re like, the only person I know!”

“That sounds like your personal problem, not mine.” Several strands of hair had fallen from the impressive tangle around Logan’s ears and into his face, and he blew them out of the way. His breath smelled like coffee - bitter coffee. Roman wrinkled his nose. “Let go of my door.”

“Come on, Logan! What else are you going to be doing this holiday?”

“Studying! I have exams to pass!”

“You can study at my place. You won’t have to pay holiday rent there!”

“I won’t have to pay holiday rent if I go to my mom’s place, either! Let go of my door!”

Roman finally pulled his aching foot out of the way, but didn’t remove his hand from the wood. “You don’t want to go back to your mom’s place, though, do you? The phonecall -”

The glare that Logan sent him could have frozen the insides of a volcano, and his voice was suddenly cold enough to make Roman shiver. “Good day, Roman.” This time, Roman jerked his hand out of the way, and the door snapped shut in his face.

Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to use Logan’s ‘family stuff’ against him. He made a note of that for future reference, then hammered against the door again.

“Please, Logan!”

Silence.

“I’ll be forever in your debt!”

More silence. Maybe Logan would prefer something a little more extravagant?

“I’ll sing of your virtues from the rooftop every night for the rest of the year!”

Nothing.

Okay, maybe that had been a little much. Logan had made it clear that he was there to work and didn’t want to be disturbed in his caffeine fueled study crusades, so something excessive was possibly the wrong way to persuade him to do this.

Oh-

“I’ll pay for your coffee for the rest of the year?”

Roman held his breath and waited.

And waited.

Just when he thought that he had been wrong and that Logan really wasn’t going to be persuaded, the door opened the tiniest of amounts. Logan was still frowning at him, but some of the ice was gone from his expression.

“That’s your dealbreaker? Coffee?”

“I drink a lot of coffee.” A slight deepening in the crease between Logan’s eyes told Roman not to push the subject. “You need a date to a wedding. In return, you pay for my flight there and back, provide accommodation for the duration of the winter vacation, and keep me supplied with coffee for the rest of the year.”

“Well, a wedding, the reception, any pre-wedding parties, and keeping up the act while we’re around other people,” Roman corrected, counting on his fingers. From the irritated twitch of Logan’s left eye, he got the feeling that he hadn’t mentioned the reception or the potential stag night in his initial pitch.

“Blue Moon or Red Planet.”

“What?”

“The coffee. I like Blue Moon or Red Planet coffee. They’re more expensive, so I don’t expect them every time - maybe a ratio of three regular jars to one nice jar.”

Roman blinked. “Uh… Okay.”

Logan nodded once. More hair fell over his eyes. “I’ll draw up a schedule and provide you with estimated projections of my coffee habits for the rest of the year so you can budget accordingly. When do we leave?”

“Um… Monday.” Still reeling from Logan’s sudden and complete 180, Roman cast around for something to say, but the long haired man got there first.

“Monday. That gives us approximately two and a half days to draw boundaries and fabricate enough pictures and stories to give our deceit credibility.” Logan closed his eyes, and Roman realised that he was staring again. He hadn’t expected the other to take this in stride so quickly. “Given that I have work to finish today and you will likely need several hours on Sunday evening to pack… Have you told your family how long we have been romantically involved?”

“Uh, since January. But I told them you were shy, so we don’t have to have any pictures or anything - we can say that all our dates were just pizza and Netflix, and…” He tailed off at the incredulous look on Logan’s face. “What?”

“You expect them to believe that we have been dating for eleven months and you haven’t taken a single photo? Roman, I have listened to you belting the lyrics of more break-up songs than I care to count.” Roman shrugged, and Logan rolled his eyes. “You are quite clearly a romantic. Had we really been dating, the number of pictures you would have taken on whatever extravagance you planned for our six-month anniversary alone would be infinitesimal.”

He had a point.

Roman had already stretched his family’s belief in him to breaking point (and probably well past it) by refusing to share even the smallest thing about his ‘boyfriend’ over the past eleven months; if he didn’t get home on Monday with at least a couple of dozen photos to share, their charade would be over before it could ever really begin. “Right. You’re right. We’ll need to spend the weekend planning, doing a photoshoot - it’ll be fun!”

“You,” Logan started, already retreating, “obviously have a different definition of that word than I do. Eight thirty tomorrow morning, The Roost. Bring a notepad, your phone, and a couple of changes of clothing suitable for various weather conditions.”

“Eight thirty? A prince needs his beauty-”

“Eight thirty. We are going to do this properly.”

Roman’s phone was in his hand barely seconds after Logan’s door had closed (albeit more gently than before).

Groupchat: Princes and Co.

[Can’t wait for you to meet logan!]

Roman 09:58

[a name!!!!!!!!!!]

Trash Rat 09:59

[we have a name!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

Trash Rat 09:59

[such a nice name! can’t wait either, ro!]

Pops 10:01

[About time! I’ve been stalling on the place settings for weeks waiting for this name]

Emo Nightmare 10:02

[Was about to fly out to LA to strangle it out of you]

Emo Nightmare 10:04

[he was. i had to physically restrain him from doing so yesterday]

Padre 10:04

[bet u both enjoyed that ;);););););)]

Trash Rat 10:04

Several people are typing…

[Suck a dick, Remus]

Emo Nightmare 10:05

[we did, actually]

Pops 10:05

[would but janjans at work :((]

Trash Rat 10:06

[Didn’t want to know, didn’t need to know.]

Roman 10:06

[Pat!]

Emo Nightmare 10:06

[Logan Ursa??? 4th yr medic??? Coffee addict???]

Snake Eyes 10:06

Roman stared at his phone for a second. That was faster than he had expected.

[u knew????? jan u held out on me??? the luv of ur greyspec life???]

Trash Rat 10:07

[You told Janus?! I’m your brother! He’s not even related to you!]

Emo Nightmare 10:07

[No I didn’t tell Janus!]

Roman 10:07

[I’m omniscient.]

Snake Eyes 10:08

[Plus I just asked Jannie for a list of all the Logans you could have associated with.]

Snake Eyes 10:09

[You and your sister scare me]

Roman 10:11

[He has surprisingly little internet presence.]

Snake Eyes 10:11

[Told you. He’s shy]

Roman 10:12

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Roman returned to his room and picked up his laptop, this time to actually book the tickets he was supposed to have booked weeks ago. He had no doubt that they would arrive on Monday to discover that his family had already unearthed everything there was to know about his fake boyfriend - should he break that news to Logan before or after they were on the plane? Making the man paranoid might make their weekend photoshoot a lot more difficult.

Their photoshoot! If Logan was really on board, Roman would have to make this as easy as possible for him - and the performance of a lifetime for himself. Given that he was expected to bring a notebook to their meeting tomorrow, they were going to have to do a lot of brainstorming, so he might as well start coming up with ideas now. He already had a few as he grabbed a notepad from the mess on the floor and started hunting for a pencil.

No matter what his fake date said, this weekend was going to be a lot of fun.

#AUgust 2021 #fake dating au #logince #moxiety #dukeceit

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salexectrian-heir · 4 years

Text

messages from last night update

chapter below the cut | ao3 link

✧ Oracle ✧

SEPT 1ST 4:57 AM

[Joker] Hi

[Joker] Story time

[✧ Oracle ✧] i see yusuke returned ur phone

[Joker] Aha, yeah. After swearing on my life I would not make any more poor life choices

[Joker] I assume that was your doing

[✧ Oracle ✧] ur welcome

[Joker] Hmm well I might not have sworn hard enough

[✧ Oracle ✧] ???

[Joker] bet you 500 yen you can’t guess where I woke up this morning (without hacking my location)

[✧ Oracle ✧] oh god akira… jail?

[✧ Oracle ✧] again??!

[Joker] No

[Joker] Better

[✧ Oracle ✧] !!?

[Joker] On the catwalk of the auditorium

[✧ Oracle ✧] BRUH

[✧ Oracle ✧] didnt yusuke like walk u home???

[Joker] He did

[Joker] I just didn’t stay home after

[✧ Oracle ✧] (-_-;)・・・

[✧ Oracle ✧] but don’t they lock up the buildings at night….

[Joker] ...

[✧ Oracle ✧] also i’m p sure catwalks are at least fifteen meters in the air??

[Joker] ...

[Joker] I am surprisingly still very dexterous while intoxicated

[✧ Oracle ✧] o m g

[✧ Oracle ✧] what possessed u to sneak out of the dorm, pick a lock, scale scaffolding, and fall asleep on a metal beam is / literally / beyond me

[Joker] Me too, It's all very...fuzzy after getting back to the dorms

[Joker] Maybe I was a cat in a past life

[✧ Oracle ✧] cat!kira

[✧ Oracle ✧] congrats u now have a fursona to add to your growing list of ‘sonas

[Joker] Cat!kira go prrr?

[✧ Oracle ✧] HAHAH a self-drag?

[✧ Oracle ✧] Someone truly is hungover and regretting his life choices

[Joker] Jokes aside, all that flexibility training I did in hs apparently paid off

[Joker] I have no new bruises or injuries that I am aware of so I made it up in one piece. Somehow.

[✧ Oracle ✧] wait hold up I thot all that “training” u’d say u were doing was just like horny akira code for “going to mess around with Sumi after school”

[✧ Oracle ✧] don’t tell me u actually were doing gymnastics with her that whole time

[Joker] Okay

[✧ Oracle ✧] ????

[Joker] You literally just told me not to tell you

[✧ Oracle ✧] but was i right?! i NEED to kno if i was right

[Joker] Haha yes and no

[Joker] We did both

[Joker] is typing...

[✧ Oracle ✧] oKAY OKAY OKAY NO DETAILS (SAVE THOSE FOR ANN)

[✧ Oracle ✧] JUST CONFIRMATION THANK U next

[Joker] You have written fanfic more explicit than anything I could ever tell you I’ve done, AND I PROOF READ IT FOR YOU

[✧ Oracle ✧] ヽ(•//д//•)ノ [ok true]

[✧ Oracle ✧] but

[✧ Oracle ✧] ヽ(•̀//д//•́)ノ

[Joker] Ik Ik, I’m teasing. I won’t corrupt your virginal ears

[✧ Oracle ✧] /anyway/ people r gonna be mad jealous when they find out u dated an olympic gymnast

[Joker] She wasn’t one when we dated though so technically I didn’t

[Joker] She found out she qualified shortly before we went back to being just friends

[Joker] I think we’re both much happier this way

[✧ Oracle ✧] Obviously. you still talk to her??

[Joker] Yeah

[Joker] We caught up before the semester started

[Joker] She said she was nervous, but that’s to be expected when you’re on the global stage. Aside from that she’s fitting in really well with her new teammates. She just wishes Kasumi could have been a part of it

[✧ Oracle ✧] </3

[Joker] Yeah :( </3

[Joker] But she’s good

[Joker] Still calls me senpai though...which idk how to feel about that

[✧ Oracle ✧] lol its ~cute~

[Joker] Hmm leaning towards don’t think so

[✧ Oracle ✧] “oh ~senpai~ you’ll still watch me compete in the olympics on TV right?”

[Joker] ...did you listen in on the call

[✧ Oracle ✧] no

[Joker] “no,” she lied like a liar (I know you still have my phone bugged damn it)

***

The Phantom Thieves of Cats

SEPT 1ST 5:01 AM

[✧ Oracle ✧] *kicks down the door to the thieves den*

[✧ Oracle ✧] INARI U FAILED

[✧ Oracle ✧] GUESS WHERE AKIRA IS

[✧ Oracle ✧] (hint: not where he’s supposed 2 be)

[Fox] Preposterous! He was safely returned to his dorm room. I personally put him to bed.

[Panther] you stayed over in their dorm room Fox… isn’t he in there w/you??

[Fox] is typing...

[Fox] Ah. It appears that I am in his bed and Akira is indeed missing. I was on the floor when we went to sleep. I have no recollection of this transfer.

[Fox] I have awoken Ryuji but all he has done is throw his possessions at me in an attempt to silence my “pestering” so I do not think he will be of any help in this situation.

[Joker] Don’t bother with him Fox. He isn’t responsive until at least 9am after a night out.

[Joker] Also, why aren’t the rest of you sleeping?

[Panther] Joker! you’re alive!!! are you okay???????

[Joker] Define okay

[✧ Oracle ✧] *cackles*

[Panther] where are you?!?

[Joker] You aren’t going to guess?

[Panther] jail?

[Fox] Please let it not be true your detective arrested you last night, and you are suffering in incarceration as we type.

[Joker] Why is jail everyone’s first guess? I was only arrested once!

[Joker] Fuck

[Joker] Also, he is not “my” detective

[Fox] is typing…

[✧ Oracle ✧] u sure about that

[Joker] Oh no

[✧ Oracle ✧] pls reread our messages from last night

[Joker] Oh GOD

[✧ Oracle ✧] *cackles louder*

[✧ Oracle ✧] i can’t wait to hear what inari is about to dish out

[Panther] wait what did akira say to you @ ✧ Oracle ✧?!

[Joker] Futaba please *softly* don’t

[Fox] Last night I had to relieve you of your phone before you texted the detective prince incriminating evidence of your state of inebriation and infatuation. You were adamant that you had to send him a picture of a cat as a token of your feelings, which I objected as the image you selected was not flattering of the cat. I may have just met you a few days ago, so please tell me if I am overstepping my bounds, but I do not think sending hideous pictures of cats is a wise way of winning over this man’s affections.

[✧ Oracle ✧] pls show us the picture he wanted to send

[Fox]

[Panther] Hahahah oh akira

[✧ Oracle ✧]

[Joker] …

[Joker] I’ll be staying at this undisclosed location until further notice

[Panther] no Akira!!! seriously where are you??

[Joker] the_view_is_nice.image

[Panther] :O

[Panther] how did you get up that high???

[✧ Oracle ✧] gymnastics training

[Panther] huh? i didn’t know you were a gymnast Akira!!

[✧ Oracle ✧] im sure he’ll tell u all about it now

[Joker] -____-

[Fox] I cannot believe I failed my first mission as the Chosen One.

[✧ Oracle ✧] i can

[Fox] is typing…

[Panther] @ ✧ Oracle ✧!!!!!!

[✧ Oracle ✧] kek

[Fox] I am an utter disgrace to this friendship. How can I even call this a friendship when I have done nothing but leech from the kindness you all have bestowed upon me. How will I ever be able to show my face among you, those whom I have failed. I must atone for the shame I have wrought.

[Joker] You didn’t fail @ Fox, and you are not a disgrace. It was my fault. I was the shitty friend in this situation. I’ll make it up to everyone, and to you Fox. I’ll think of something.

[Fox] Food would suffice.

[Joker] Dinner for a week it is.

[Fox] Delightful!

[Panther] wow he got over that fast

[✧ Oracle ✧] welcome to being friends with Inari, the path of forgiveness is through his stomach

***

✧ Oracle ✧

SEPT 1st 5:07 AM

[Joker] Slight problem

[Joker] I actually have no idea how to get down

[✧ Oracle ✧] u really r part f*cking cat

***

Regrettably, some of his life choices last night did him no favors.

Mistakes had been made. Limits and Lessons had been learned. Unfortunately the hard way.

After miraculously finding a way down off the catwalk without injury into his dorm shower and a fresh set of clothes, Akira managed to show up for his opening shift at Big Bang Blends ten minutes early.

Haru took one look at him when he slinked into the kitchen and immediately said, “Oh dear.”

Akira spun a damp curl around his finger. “That bad, huh?”

“Uhm.” Haru offered him a wobbling, pitiful smile. “You kind of look like how I would imagine a cat that got caught outside in the rain might feel.”

He let out a self-deprecating chuckle and wandered over to the apron rack. “Fair comparison.” Selecting his off its hook, he pulled it over his head. “I’d add on that the cat also got stuck in a tree and developed a splitting migraine.”

“I know just the thing that’ll sort you out!” Haru hovered over to Akira’s side. “Whenever I--” she paused, considering her words with a finger to her lip, “overindulge,” she settled on with a giggle, “I’ll make myself a cup of my special tea. It instantly clears my head and calms my stomach.”

Akira’s stomach rolled unpleasantly. “ Special tea ?”

Haru nodded vigorously. “It works like a charm! And I’m not just saying that because I drink it, I have a friend--well, I might be overstepping if I were to call him that, we aren’t that close,” Haru sighed, “but I make it for him too when he occasionally stumbles in here in a similar state.”

“Do I want to know what’s in it?” he asked hesitantly.

Haru beamed brightly at him. “No.”

Akira groaned.

“I promise it’ll work,” Haru said, wandering out of the kitchen and over to her collection of loose leaf teas that were displayed in clear, sealed jars behind the counter. She called back to him, “You’ll perk up in no time!”

He gave her a weak thumbs up.

Picking up the task list from the side of the walk in freezer, he resigned himself to his fate of ingesting whatever the fuck concotion Haru was going to feed him. It couldn’t have been worse than what he drank last night. In all honesty, he would have been feeling way, way, worse if Yusuke hadn’t convinced him to drink so much water when they got back. Akira would like to think the fact he wasn’t curled up on the floor in the fetal position on the cafe floor was also thanks in part to the Amazake he had chosen to drink the night prior too. But the thought of the non-alcoholic sake made his stomach churn harder so he stopped that train of thought immediately, and focused on setting up the dining area. His head felt like it weighed five pounds heavier than it usually did, which made moving it a bit of a hassle, but he had the opening sheet to finish before the cafe opened and he’d damn himself if he didn’t deliver.

What his stomach did seem safe to think about was luck stats, and that maybe Futaba was onto something when she had made that off hand comment in their chat last night. Akira was incredibly lucky to have landed two bosses ( three if he counted Sojiro but the man was more like a father than he ever was a boss) who cared more about his well being as a person than as a source of cheap labor. Watching Haru make his tea as he flipped chairs down off the tables only amplified his guilt of showing up before her utterly and unmistakably hungover.

Being the sloppy friend did not sit well with Akira.

He swore to himself as he pushed in the last chair he took down that this was the first and last time he ever did anything as stupid and irresponsible as he did last night. Not to mention, his luck wouldn’t last if he kept this up. He’d make it up to everyone somehow, and Haru in particular now. He wouldn’t let his current state impact his work.

And once he stopped feeling like dogshit and could form a coherent argument, he was going to have a long, hard talk with whichever one of his personas decided it would be great fucking idea to drink so much, scale the interior of the theatre, and fall asleep on a steel beam no greater than sixty centimeters in width. Because honestly, what the fuck ?

Even In high school, his “peak stupidity” years, he hadn’t done anything as dumb as this.

Okay, well, that was a lie.

He had done a lot of stupid, often illegal things (see: petty theft, breaking and entering) in high school that to him, had been justified. He was quite gifted at stealing and knew his way around a lock with professional proficiency, and he had gotten away with it unscathed for a very long time.

Except for the whole getting arrested and put on probation thing , which ironically had been for a crime he didn’t actually commit.

“It’s ready!”

“Thanks, Haru.”

Akira swung by the to-go counter reaching for the mystery tea waiting for him and continued on.

After thirty minutes of sipping on whatever miracle cure Haru brewed as he checked off the morning set up tasks, it fucking kicked in. The mind fog and nausea disappeared almost entirely, settling his stomach enough that he was able to keep down some Advil and melon pan with Haru for breakfast. Akira could handle the headache until the medicine took over.

He just couldn’t move too fast or too sudden (Akira was still a little too off balance for that), or turn his neck sharply (thanks to what he had drunkenly decided to use as a pillow the night before). But he powered through it as he set about stocking the various coffee beans in their containers.

The last item on the task sheet they completed together. Prepping the food items for the pastry case with all of the baked goods Haru had made the night before. In addition to mochi, goma dango, and other pastries one would expect to enjoy with tea and coffee, there was always some kind of cake. Meticulously and lovingly decorated, sliced by hand that Haru showcased in her cake display. Today’s selection was a daring one, a pink lemonade cake with delicately applied ombre pink frosting and topped with candied lemon slices that were evenly spaced, each sitting on an artful dollop of whipped white icing.

“Did you want to try a piece, Akira-kun?”

Akira glanced over from where he was sliding a tray of nerikiri into the case. A plate with a modest slice was being extended to him. Eyeing the color up close, his stomach protested. Apparently still a little too hungover to test the limits of his digestive tract with such an extravagant confection.

“It looks amazing, but I think I’ll stick to the melon pan this time Haru.”

“I can always save it for la--”

A sharp series of knocks interrupted their conversation.

From his position squatting on the floor, he checked the time on his phone. There were still five minutes until the cafe officially opened for the day. Haru had warned him there were always a few people who showed up early and failed to read the sign.

“I’ll get it,” Akira sighed, sliding the door of the pastry case shut. “You finish with the cake. I’ll handle our impatient caffeine addict.”

“Oh don’t worry the cake’s all done, I just cut the last slice.” Haru waved Akira off. “I can get him.”

Him?

He hastily straightened up, brushing a few stray sugary crumbs off his apron and immediately looked over at the entrance. Every muscle in his body seized up. Waiting outside the glass doors was one impeccably dressed and restless looking Akechi Goro. Akechi rolled his shoulder, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag while he checked his phone.

The message Akira sent Akechi last night intrusively echoed in his head the moment the former detective looked up and locked eyes with him. Pocketing his phone into his suit jacket (it had to be custom fit, because there was no way it could have cut his figure that well without tailoring), he lifted his chin ever so slightly. Akechi’s expression twisted wickedly into something that short circuited Akira’s brain.

Oh.

Fuck .

A war waged between two primal instincts in Akira’s body at the sight, the overwhelming urge to run in the face of danger clashing with a tidal wave of lust. The rush coursed through his veins, freezing him in place. Much like prey that had been cornered, his heart began to thrash against his ribs.

Akechi’s grin was sharp and salacious, a stark contrast to the innocent and winsome smile that the T.V. ready Prince so often wore. Akira didn’t know him all that well (... yet ), but God , that smile just seemed to suit Akechi so much better.

Akira got to witness this side of Akechi knowing it was reserved for only him for about two whole seconds before Akechi’s face changed, shifting into his composed, manufactured doll-like mask when Haru made it over to let him in.

The transformation gave Akira something pretty close to whiplash.

Really arousing whiplash.

“Good morning Akechi-san,” she greeted him, holding the door open with a warm smile.

“And same to you, Okumura-san,” he returned politely, stepping past her and into the cafe proper. “Pardon my early arrival, I have quite the busy day planned unfortunately and was hoping to get a jump start.” He brushed aside a few strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes with a gloved hand. “I hope your morning has been going well.”

“It’s barely started,” Akira muttered, reaching for a to-go cup to start Akechi’s order to busy himself with so he wouldn’t stare at the breathtakingly handsome man in front of him. His heart needed a break already.

Instead of writing Akechi’s name, he doodled a pair of handcuffs with the bold letters A and G within the negative space in each cuff (Akira admired his work for a brief moment and thought Yusuke would be proud). He marked the drink as a caramel latte, recalling what Haru had put down on his cup yesterday. Then proceeded to make a pour over instead.

Haru flipped the sign to open, and then said, “Very well, so far! I tried out a new cake recipe, you have to try it.”

Akechi laughed, and Akira’s stomach clenched--but this time in an all too pleasant way. Akira diverted his attention from grinding the beans for his drink to watch the detective ( Fuck! ) The sound was light and lyrical, and after what Akira witnessed… sounded totally out of place coming out of the same mouth that had held that smug, voracious grin a moment ago.

“As much as I would love to, I must decline. I cannot get into the habit of having cake for breakfast.”

“Then you must take a slice with you!” Haru walked past him and over to her cake display, lifting the glass lid and taking a piece out.

“Alright, if you insist,” Akechi conceded, coming to a stop in front of Akira, who moved on to scooping the grounds into the damp filter. The proximity made it near impossible to keep his eyes off the detective, but Akira somehow managed it, forcing himself to pay attention to his pour.

“Actually, would you mind if I borrowed your barista for a moment, Okumura-san?”

Akira snapped his head up from his preparations and met Akechi’s eyes once more ( God damnit! ). Which was a really dumb idea as a shock of pain spiked down his neck. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop from wincing.

A dangerous glint appeared in that maroon gaze that catapulted Akira’s thundering heart into his throat.

“Is he in trouble?” Haru peered over her shoulder from where she was packing a bright pink slice of cake into a to-go container.

“He might be,” Goro murmured just loud enough for Akira to hear, then broke their eye contact to address Haru, “I assure you, nothing of the sort.” He smiled that infuriatingly fake smile at her, complete with an innocent tilt of his head. “I just need to ask him a few questions, in private.”

Haru shot Akira a questioning stare, Do you need me to say no?

He shrugged nonchalantly, or as nonchalantly as someone who was having a very intense internal meltdown over an insanely attractive man could, and said, “It’s fine, Haru.” He continued to pour the scalding water in a circular motion over the coffee grounds in the filter, doing his best to quiet all the alarm bells in his head.

His response must have come off convincingly enough because Haru nodded and said, “Well, I can’t see why that would be a problem.” She hesitantly returned Akechi’s smile. “But I will need him back in a bit when the morning rush hits.”

“This shouldn’t take too long,” Akechi turned and gestured to a table in the corner of the cafe--far away enough from the counter that Haru couldn’t possibly overhear their conversation. Then under his breath he added, “As long as Kurusu-kun doesn’t resist, that is.”

Akira cleared his throat, willing his throbbing heart to drop back into its cage between his ribs. “Go on, I”ll join you when I’m finished.”

Akechi nodded, leaving the yen for his coffee on the counter and sauntered away. Akira topped off the pour over and transferred the liquid into the to-go cup. On his way around the counter he snagged what was left of his miracle tea and took a swig. He hoped it would replenish his mental reserves to handle the upcoming verbal sparring match he was sure he was about to walk into.

Akechi, in his immaculate glory, was leaning back in his chair languidly with one dark clad leg crossed. He watched Akira closely as he wandered over with their drinks. Akira suddenly felt incredibly out classed and underdressed in his usual cardigan-v neck combo he had going on compared to Akechi’s tan suit jacket and pressed button down shirt.

He slid into the seat opposite Akechi and pushed his coffee across the table. Akechi nodded in thanks and brought it to his lips.

Akira pretended he didn’t watch the way Akechi’s throat moved as he swallowed his first sip.

The detective hummed approvingly. “Black.”

“The way you actually like it,” Akira said with a knowing smile. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Is it now,” Akechi chuckled darkly against the lid still pressed to his lips. “Sadly, my coffee preferences are the extent of where your knowledge of me ends.”

In the tenuous silence that descended after that statement, they sipped at their respective drinks. Gazes not once wavering off one another.

“I assume you know why I’m here,” Akechi finally said, cutting the tension.

“When I said ‘come get me ’ I didn’t mean ‘corner me at work ’,” Akira hissed over his cup of miracle tea.

He could think of many other, far more superior places he would have loved to be cornered by Akechi in. But Akira kept that part to himself.

The detective leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist. “You do realize if this were a real investigation and I caught you as unaware as you were this morning, you being at work with your Boss present wouldn’t have deterred me.”

Akira stole a glance at Haru, who was busy writing the specials of the day on their blackboard, then drained the rest of his tea.

Akechi followed his gaze and continued on in a saccharine tone that contradicted the alluring smile his mouth had split into again, “But since it’s not, I highly doubt you want an audience for when I bend you over the counter and take what I want from you.”

Akira promptly choked.

Any lingering doubt Akira may have had about Akechi’s preferences evaporated. Akechi knew exactly what he was saying. He had to have, right? There was no heterosexual explanation for that response.

Point to Akechi, he thought, accepting the fact his face was probably as red as the flowering plant hovering three inches above his head.

“How considerate,” Akira managed to rasp once he got his tea to go down his throat correctly. Swallowing burned like a bitch. Now he had to deal with a sore throat on top of the rebellion being staged by his heart and stomach, and the leftover vertigo from his hangover.

“Will you hand it over now?” the detective asked with a hint of sugar coated venom.

“Hate to disappoint, but you’ll be walking away empty handed this morning. I left it in my room.”

Which wasn’t a lie. In his haste to recover from last night’s escapade and get to work on time, he hadn’t thought to grab the handkerchief. The last thing he expected was this.

“I think you’re sending me mixed signals.”.

“Am I?”

“You tell me you want one thing, then act like you didn’t expect it to come to fruition when I follow through on it so I’m curious,” Akechi titled his head and his hair shifted, shining ethereally in the early morning sun streaming through the window. “What is it you really want, Kurusu?”

For you to fuck my brains out, Akira thought. But admitting that so bluntly to Akechi’s face felt like defeat. So, he kept the stupid illusion of their game going and leaned in.

“I want to see if the Detective Prince is really as good at his job as the rumors say he is.” Akira mirrored the detective’s head tilt and offered him a crooked grin. “I won’t be that easy.”

“If you want me to physically remove it from your person, then I must insist from this point forward you carry it with you. If every time I corner you, you… aren’t ready,” Akechi’s smile grew wider, “then doesn’t that defeat the purpose? And unlike you it seems, my time and attention is limited.”

“Rude.” Akira mimicked the detective’s posture, dropping his chin into his palm. “My time is limited too. I just can’t have you stalking me at work. And--” what Akira really meant to say next was , I cannot possibly work and retain my sanity with you watching me like that all the time. But instead said, “--Think of Okumura-san’s business. You’ll scare away her customers.”

Akechi shot him an unimpressed look. “Somehow I highly doubt that.”

Wow. Cocky bastard.

"Well,” Akira said, changing tactics by imbuing a little bit of truth, “I imagine you can relate to not wanting to be distracted at work, with your fans and all.”

“They can be...rather inconvenient at times, yes.” Akechi studied him intently. “Alright then. Let’s make a deal.”

“Making a deal with the enemy? Akechi,” Akira feigned a gasp, “don’t tell me you’re a dirty cop.”

The detective snorted into his coffee. “I’m going to choose not to entertain that comment and suggest we establish some ground rules.”

“I thought rules didn’t exist in investigations,” Akira said mischievously.

“Like I previously stated, good thing this isn’t one, then?”

They shared a private smile.

“I propose this,” Akechi said, straightening up, hands clasped on the table. “From this point on, you will carry it on your person. I will catch you off guard within the next two weeks and take back what is rightfully mine. Our working hours are exempt from this. Obviously, the common spaces in the dormitory will be too by default. Should you ever need me as your RA, that will come first and foremost, I take my duties seriously. As should you. I think you’ll find these terms agreeable and respectful of each other’s time. Unless there are any other locations you want to deem off limits.”

Akira made a show of considering Akechi’s words, tapping a finger against his cheek. This was literally the most drawn out, intellectually charged foreplay Akira had ever engaged in but he couldn’t say it didn’t excite him. In fact, there was something exhilarating about it.

“No. Everywhere else is fair game.”

“Really?” Akechi inquired, grin breaching that rapacious territory again. “Be careful what you agree to, Kurusu.”

Akira shrugged and leaned back.

“So,” Akechi prompted, “you won’t say no, will you?”

Of course he was going to accept. So Akira simply said, “I think I’ll hold on to your handkerchief.” And then held out his hand. It felt like the right thing to do.

“Hah, excellent,” Akechi smiled and shook it firmly. The leather was soft and warm as it dragged against Akira’s palm. “Otherwise, I will be forced to order a room inspection and somehow I doubt that is how you want this to play out.”

“If you are inspecting the room while I’m in it, then I might be.”

Right after the words left his mouth, the logical part of his brain that wasn’t stuck on being hungover and horny on main finally spoke up and reminded him of the very important, expulsion worthy, major cockblock that was currently being housed in his room: Morgana.

But then Akechi’s mouth upturned devilishly, and suddenly Akira decided he’d cross that furry bridge when he got to it.

“Well, then. I must be off. Thank you for the coffee,” Akechi said, dropping Akira’s hand as he stood up. “I have an interview taping in…” he checked his phone and sighed, “just over an hour. Hopefully the trains are on schedule.”

Akira tilted his head. “Still doing those?”

“Yes, keeping up appearances on behalf of the precinct,” Akechi explained, “I may be officially on hiatus as a full time student, but I still pick up cases from time to time. The media wants to know how I balance it all.”

“Ah. Explains the get up.”

Akechi bristled at the comment, his nose wrinkling ( cute! ) and brows drawing down as he straightened his already perfectly straight tie. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“Nothing,” Akira teased with a lilt in voice, “It’s nice, maybe a little stuffy.” He deliberately looked Akechi up and down. “But I bet you’d look better out of it, judging by what I saw you wear the last time you showed up here.” He couldn’t fight the coy smile his mouth twisted into even if he tried. “If you’re looking to show off, those shorts from yesterday would do a better job.”

The call out was meant to fluster Akechi, but the detective’s face remained remarkably even toned. Flawless even. Too flawless.

Could he be... he's totally wearing makeup.

Akira lifted a brow pointedly.

That did the trick, earning Akira a heated glare before Akechi turned his head sharply away. The movement roughly shifted the hair around his face, revealing a sliver of skin previously hidden. To Akira’s rapidly dawning delight, the detective’s neck was rapidly turning pink.

“Shut. Up. Kurusu.”

Oh, so Akechi blushes all the way down when he’s flustered. Fascinating. Akira filed the thought away for… later.

For totally innocent purposes.

Totally.

Akira stood up and slipped in front of Akechi, demanding to be looked at. Giddy with his new discovery. “Oh? What’s this? He can dish it out but can’t take it?”

Akechi’s eyes flashed as he brought himself up to his full height, and stepped into Akira’s space. Scowling down the few centimeters he had on him, he forced Akira to take a step back. “You,” he said lowly, continuing to move forward, making Akira walk backwards until his back hit the counter, “are a brat .”

“Just figuring that out now, detective?” Akira smirked. “I thought that was obvious.”

From this close Akira could see just how gorgeous the detective’s eyes truly were. Flecks of light red dotted the center most part of his eyes, giving off the illusion of glittering in the light. He was close enough that if Akira leaned in a fraction more their noses would touch.

A very polite, soft cough came from somewhere on Akira's right.

The detective’s eyes widened in shock. He quickly put space between them again and turned to face Haru, who was standing in between the kitchen and the counter area looking anywhere but at them.

Akira owed her now a second apology.

“I wish both of you a good day,” Akechi gracefully recovered and turned on his heel. He flexed his shoulders as he opened the door but stopped with one foot out the door.

“Oh, and Kurusu-kun?” Akechi turned halfway to face him, “Be sure to check your email this afternoon.”

And then he was gone.

***

It’s Always Snack Time in Tokyo

SEPT 1ST 8:00 AM

[Takuto Maruki] Hello! I was going to wait until I saw you in person, but I can’t resist telling you the good news! I submitted the paperwork to bring on an official research assistant. The chair of the department should grant me an answer by the end of the week. The position is yours once I get the documented approval.

[Takuto Maruki] That is, if you are still interested in conducting research with me like you did over the summer

[Akira Kurusu] I am

[Takuto Maruki] Even more wonderful!

[Akira Kurusu] Won’t it be unethical if you don’t let other people apply for the position though?

[Akira Kurusu] You can’t play favoritism

[Takuto Maruki] I, fortunately, get to make the rules in this situation and I wrote that I could appoint the position to any student that met certain criteria and showed promise in the field

[Akira Kurusu] You literally wrote the position description so that only I fit that criteria, didn’t you

[Takuto Maruki] You would be correct! :D

[Takuto Maruki] So if you’re free and want to get a jump start on assisting, I was hoping to recruit you this upcoming Friday to proctor an exam.

[Akira Kurusu] An exam? The second week of class? Savage Sensei

[Takuto Maruki] It is a 300 level that meets M/W/F so the curriculum moves fast. This cohort in particular is grasping the concepts at a much faster rate than the other two I teach for this course.

[Akira Kurusu] When is it? I open the cafe Friday mornings

[Takuto Maruki] 2pm

[Akira Kurusu] Okay, I can make that work. I’ll be there

[Takuto Maruki] Wonderful! :)

***

The Phantom Thieves of Cats

SEPT 1st 11:12 AM

[Skull] yo i am not back readin any of that

[Skull] wat did i miss?

✧ Oracle ✧ Changed Skull to Edgelord Can’t Read

[Edgelord Can’t Read] I CAN EFFIN’ READ!!!

[Edgelord Can’t Read] i said i wasn’t gonna, not that i cant big difference

[Edgelord Can’t Read] ur the one who cant read

[✧ Oracle ✧] wow gr8 comeback edgelord im so offended. what r we 7yrs old

[Edgelord Can’t Read] shuddup

***

Gotta Go Fast

SEPT 1st 11:28 AM

[Skull] BRO A CATWALK?! WTF?!?

[Skull] how the eff did u get down??

[Joker] My amazing cat-like reflexes

[Skull] bro

[Skull] how u feelin btw

[Joker] You know that feeling you get when you’re about to go over the hill on a rollercoaster?

[Joker] Like that

[Skull] oof

[Skull] ill make u my ma’s soup when ur shifts over, its the best for this kinda shit

[Joker] Why is everyone being so understanding with me today

[Skull] were ur friends man we gotchu

[Joker] alsdjflskf

[Skull] uh did the rollercoaster drop or smth

[Joker] Haha no

[Joker] Thanks Ryuji

***

The Phantom Thieves of Cats

SEPT 1st 2:01 PM

[Edgelord Can’t Read] UH HOLY SHIT EVERYONE CHECK UR EMAILS

[Panther] what?? why??

[✧ Oracle ✧] im surprised u even read ur email

[Joker] Oh.

[Joker] Fuck.

***

To: Shujin Hall_5th Floor

From: Akechi Goro; Niijima Makoto

CC: Kawakami Sadayo

Subject: Violation of Dormitory Rules

Dear Fifth Floor Residents of Shujin Hall,

This is a friendly reminder that there is a strict No Pets Policy in this Residence Hall. A contraband item, a can of pet food, was located on the floor inside the trash room on Friday night. As such, we will be conducting room inspections beginning tomorrow, starting with rooms located in the Girls’ Wing. Let this be an example to all that the consequences for violating this rule will be termination of their dormitory agreement and the loss of their on campus housing status. Any additional charges will be determined by the Residence Hall Director, Kawakami Sadayo.

If you have any further information on this subject, please feel free to contact us.

We hope you have a wonderful rest of your weekend.

Sincerely,

Your Resident Assistants

Akechi Goro

University of Tokyo | Class of 20XX Criminal Justice / Psychology Major | Philosophy Minor [email protected]

Niijima Makoto

University of Tokyo | Class of 20XX Criminal Justice Major | Psychology & Law Minor [email protected]

#akeshu #shuake #akeshuake #goro akechi #persona 5 royal #persona 5 #akira kurusu #goro akechi x akira kurusu

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negasonicimagines · 6 years

Text

“All Yours.”

requests: “Hii! Can request an ellie x reader imagine? I do not really care, I am giving you free hand because I am so thirsty for this girl :D thank you very much (maybe get kittens involved) [rq by @crazypurplesnowman]” + “10 FROM THE BUFFY PROMPTS COULD B PRETTY SICK LOOVE UR WRITING KEEP IT UP BABE”

[ 10: “I want to take comfort in you, and I know it will cost me my soul, and a part of me doesn’t care.” ]

notes: I wanted to try something new, so… Yandere!Ellie. Yeah, I’m writing that trope in 2019. This will probably be a flawed version of the trope, because I still want to be at least a little true to the character, and this will mostly be from Ellie’s perspective. Still 2nd person, but will be centered around her thoughts and feelings towards the reader, as opposed to the reader’s perception. DISCLAIMER: I am not encouraging fraud. This is literally the craziest fucking thing I’ve ever written and I LOVE IT. Like… Kittens, an iconic line from BTVS, Chuck E. Cheese, Yandere!Ellie…. Whew.

mini playlist for this fic:

superstar - marina

possession - sarah mclachlan

undisclosed desires - muse

happy place - terror jr

make you mine - public

tear you apart - she wants revenge

warnings: this is a yandere story, so just overall trigger warning. Ellie’s gonna be a little creepy and definitely a little OOC. Also, animal abuse mention & animal death. Also, graphically-detailed birth of kittens. (Here’s the video I watched for research, yes, it’s of a cat giving birth. The things I do for my thirsty ellie thots.)

There was just something about you.

Maybe it was your eyes, those perfect E/C eyes. The way you’d glance at her and smile, unsure of why she’s staring.

Or those lips. Every word you spoke was a song tumbling from between them, even if she didn’t like the fact that it was being sung to someone else.

Maybe it was your mutation. You both were mutants, you already had something in common, not to mention that you follow her Twitter and make her heart burst every time you retweet something from her. Same political opinions, same sense of humor, similar taste in music…

You rush in, a bundle in your arms. You’d gone for a walk and Ellie didn’t trust herself to be stealthy enough to follow you, not outside of the house. So, she’d sat on the loveseat by the door on her lonesome, waiting for you to return. You were all she could think of. She slinks over to where you’ve run, the infirmary.

She watches from the doorway, slowly entering as you open the bundle on one of the small beds used for long-term patients. It’s a large, fluffy black cat, some of its fur matted.

A stray? I love her… Ellie thinks. And it’s even black!

“She’s pregnant,” you tell the nurse, Annie. “I can feel it, the little lives. I’d say she’s going to go into labor very soon. I did some googling, and she’s already started the rhythmic purring.”

“So, you brought her here?” Annie asks, a brow arched. Don’t look at her like that. Just because they’re animals doesn’t mean they don’t deserve care. Ellie grinds her teeth, watching the situation. But, with you in sight, her anger is less intense.

“Well, where else was I supposed to bring her? I can try to heal her, but I can tell she might not make it through labor. I need help making her comfortable. Oh! Ellie, do you need something? I can heal you, if you have a headache or something,” you offer, distracted from your own cause by her. Me, Ellie thinks, lovesick.

“A bit of a headache,” Ellie lies. “But it can wait, if you want me to find some old towels or something.”

“I’d really appreciate that, thank you!” You beam, and she almost gasps in wonder, swiftly leaving to get the towels so you can’t see her blushing. She brings them into the infirmary, and helps you to organize them, hands brushing.

Ellie twitches away in surprise, cursing herself for her natural reaction to touch. While she knows that your touch feels good to everyone that you make skin-to-skin contact with, due to your mutation, which is to heal through touch, she feels that it must feel especially good to her, so she should accept the opportunity to feel your skin whenever she can.

“Thank you so much for the help, Ellie,” you say, eyes glimmering with excitement.

“No problem, Y/N,” she replies. “Anything else I can do?”

“Moral support would be appreciated, but I understand if you’ve got something better to do.”

Nothing’s better than you.

“Not at all,” Ellie responds, and the cat begins to meow. You go to pet her, and she purrs.

The cat starts to get a bit fidgety on the bed, wandering a bit. You and Annie make sure she stays on the bed, stroking her fur as she begins to yowl.

“Looks like we’re getting started,” you say, and Annie & Ellie nod. “Ellie, could you get us some gloves? Two pairs, unless you wanna help.”

Ellie gets three pairs of gloves, and the cat sort of squats on the bed, tail tucked. The yowl increases in volume, and she squeezes out the first kitten, a wet clump of black attached to a placenta nearly the same size. The mother cleans her child with her tongue, detaching the kitten from the placenta and eating it. Ellie notes the droplets of blood on the towels, and you nod.

“That’s normal, but we’ll have to be careful because if there’s too much she might be bleeding internally. It wouldn’t be surprising if she was, that man was kicking her really-” you sniff, clearly trying not to cry, and Ellie wants to slit his throat. “...Really hard.”

As soon as the first kitten starts meowing, another emerges from the mother cat.

“Good girl,” you praise the cat, petting her as she continues to clean her first-born, before moving on to the second. The two kittens, now mostly clean, move on to feeding from their mother, the three purring as she continues to clean them. After a short period of time in which she snuggles the two, and the bleeding starts to get heavy, another is born, and then another. She cleans and cares for them in the same fashion.

Ellie texts her groupchat with Piotr, Wade, Domino, Nathan, and her best friend, Yukio, about the situation, asking if they’d like to meet in the infirmary for an impromptu baby shower. They all excitedly agree, and she warns them that the cat may not be alive when they get there, but that the kittens are in good shape.

She listens silently as you hum to the mother, who you’ve nicknamed “Mama Cat.”

“She’s hemorrhaging,” you say, pointing out the increase in blood loss. “I read that could happen. I- I don’t know how much I can do without touching the wound, and it’s internal.”

“She knows you did your best,” Annie tries to reassure you, and Ellie tries not to glare daggers at the woman. You were Ellie’s to comfort. Ellie strokes your back, watching tears roll silently down your cheeks as you continue to hum to the cat and her litter.

“She’s gone. It’s all… I can’t feel her anymore,” you sob, and Ellie brings you into her arms, not caring about your amniotic fluid-soaked gloves one bit as you cry into her shoulder. But you pull away, and Ellie feels cold, empty. “I’m so sorry, we don’t even know each other that well, I just… I have a deep amount of respect and love for all living things, and this is so-”

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Come here, it’s gonna be okay.” Ellie wraps her arms around you again, and you accept her comfort. She tries not to let her excitement show, knowing that this is a solemn moment for you. She’s also sad, but your feelings definitely take priority over her own in this situation. In most situations. At least, that’s how she feels.

“We came as soon as we heard!” Wade and the gang enter with last-minute gifts and some decorations. Their joy dies down as they realize what’s happened. “Oh. That’s so… Oh. The kittens, are they…?”

You lift your head from Ellie’s shoulder so that your voice isn’t muffled, but you don’t exit her embrace, not yet.

“No, no, thank god. Just… Just the mom.” You pull away, attending to the tiny, helpless creatures. You dry the little screamers off a bit before bundling them in the least dirty towel and turning back to face the group. “I see you all brought gifts. Does there happen to be any formula?”

“I’ve got a good amount here, plus the equipment.” Domino fulfills the request. “Lucky guess.”

“Me, too,” Nathan adds. “I figured it wouldn’t be an easy thing to get ahold of. I was wrong, so I also got a PetSmart gift card.”

“Thank you so much, you guys,” you say, and Annie stacks the canisters on the counter. “Jesus Christ, that’s a lot.”

“Oh, right, I got some, too,” Wade says, and Ellie thinks maybe he got a can. Nope. The amount he got doubles the supply.

“Jeez, I guess we don’t have to worry about feeding them,” you comment. “Thanks a ton, you guys.”

“So...What are you going to do with them?” Yukio asks.

“I mean, keep them, I guess. The only official rules on pets here are that you can have them as long as you keep them away from those allergic and don’t let them make a mess or distract you from your studies. I could probably request a month of independent study while they need round the clock care, and as long as my grades don’t seriously falter, that’ll be fine.”

“Do you think you’ll give any of them away, once they’re weaned off milk and litter box-trained?” Yukio continues to investigate.

“Uh, I don’t know… Maybe? Right now, though, I wouldn’t dream of it. Sorry,” you apologize, able to tell that the sweet girl wants to adopt one.

“Have you named them, yet?” Piotr asks.

“I think I’ll wait ‘til their personalities start to show,” you decide, and Ellie nods, wrapping an arm around you.

“You guys are gonna make great cat moms,” Domino comments, and Ellie finds herself blushing a little. Us? Cat moms? Together? It’s a dream come true...

“Maybe you should share room,” Piotr suggests. “So that you can care for kittens together. It can be arranged.”

“That’d be great!” you agree.

“Yeah, sure,” Ellie does her best to hide her enthusiasm, but based on the expressions of everyone in the room but you, it’s clear she has a crush. At least they don’t know it’s a rapidly-growing obsession, rising with every little interaction, even if that interaction is just you looking back at her and smiling.

“I will go file paperwork,” Piotr informs. “Do not hesitate to open gift while I’m gone.”

“Thank you so much, Colossus!” you cheer. Annie hands you each a pair of kittens and a pair of small bottles, allowing you to nurse your new children together.

Wade takes a picture, and Ellie finds that she can’t be annoyed. She was actually happy someone captured this, even if it was Wade.

“Thank you so much for all your help, everyone, especially Ellie and Annie. I couldn’t have done it without you guys.”

“Happy to help,” Ellie replies, and you smile at her.

“You’ve been such a help, El. Seriously, I- I couldn’t have done this alone.”

The two of you are feeding the kittens in your shared dorm, studying for an American Literature test at the same time. It’s been a couple weeks since the birth of the kittens, and the two of you became fast friends, now that she actually talked to you regularly.

“No problem, Y/N.” It’s my pleasure.

“They’re so beautiful, aren’t they? We can start weaning them off the milk in two weeks.”

“Incredibly beautiful,” Ellie replies, but she’s looking at you, not the cats. She can tell you notice this because of the way you blush, ducking your head. But, you don’t say anything, so she doesn’t either.

“So… What do the eyes of Doctor TJ Eckleburg represent?” You ask.

“The eyes of god over the lawless wasteland that America has become due to greed.”

“Nice answer,” you compliment.

“Thank you,” she replies, it’s getting harder and harder to hide her excitement.

“So, hey, I have kind of a weird question…” You start. Ellie’s heart immediately starts racing. Had you discovered her obsession, or any of the strange habits that came with it?

“Um- Uh… Shoot.”

“It’s nothing bad!” You reassure her. “I was just wondering if you wanted to maybe… Maybe go on a date, this Friday? I’m sorry if you wouldn’t want to, you probably just see me as a friend and maybe not even that, so-“

“I’d love to!” Ellie enthusiastically responds, not bothering to disguise the way she felt as a grin splits her face open.

“That’s great! I asked Yukio to kitten-sit if you said yes and she agreed, so I figured maybe we could go do something relaxing, like watching a movie, or… I don’t know, I honestly didn’t think you’d say yes.”

“You- You didn’t?” Maybe I’m too good at hiding my feelings for her. Her face falls, and you rush to explain yourself:

“Well, I know you didn’t really like me all that much before the kitten thing… I thought you were really attractive and seemed really cool, but you’d glare at me a lot and I didn’t know why, so I figured it was best to keep my distance and be nice to you in small ways in the hopes you’d forgive me for whatever I did. What did I do, if you don’t mind telling me?” You ask, cheeks flushed, and Ellie’s heart still hasn’t stopped racing.

“Nothing, nothing at all, I swear!” Ellie attempts to reassure you, even if the concerned expression on your face is adorable. She decides the best route is to be honest, now that she knows you do like her. “I- This is really embarrassing. I wasn’t glaring at all. I was, um, staring at you, because I really, really like you. If I didn’t think it’d freak you out, I’d say I love you. You’re just… Absolutely perfect.”

“No way!” You laugh off her adoration, and she wishes she could kiss you then and there, to prove that she’s serious. “You’re too nice, El.”

“Well, you saying that just proves that I really do like you, a lot. I’m not nice to people, I push them away. But you, I could never hurt you like that, or in any way. And if anyone else ever did, or tried to, I- I-“ Smoke starts curling off of her at the thought, eyes lighting up orange in fury.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay…” you tell her sweetly, putting your hand at the spot between her neck and shoulder, partially covered by the neckline of her tee shirt...but uncovered enough for the healing energy of your touch to radiate through her.

She happily allows this, taking a deep breath and calming down so much faster than she would’ve on her own. It was meant to be a reassuring hand on the shoulder, but she got so much more from it.

From you.

“Thank you,” she says gratefully. You yawn, removing your hand as you stretch.

“I have another question,” you say. “And please don’t be afraid to say no.”

“Okay,” Ellie replies, curious.

“Well, I was thinking… The cats always sleep on my whole torso area at night… So, to give them extra nourishment, I was thinking about sleeping without a shirt on? So I’ll have skin-to-skin contact with them. If you’re not comfortable with that, it’s totally fine, they’re doing really great health-wise, I just wanted to give them a boost. You know how worried I get, especially about Witchy.”

Twitchy-Witchy (nicknamed “Witchy”) is the runt of the litter and is, well, twitchy! She’s less social than the others, and will hide when anyone other than you or Ellie approaches.

“Yeah, sure. I mean, you could sleep without a shirt on if you just didn’t wanna wear a shirt,” Ellie tells you, returning to being glad about her ability to hide her feelings from you. Her anticipation is returning, and she’d hate for you to think of her as some sort of creep!

“Oh! Sorry, I just didn’t wanna cross any lines or make things weird. But I probably made it weird by asking, didn’t I?”

“No, it was thoughtful of you. You’re so thoughtful…” Ellie says, a mysterious glint in her eye as she looks you over, hoping it’s not obvious she’s imagining what tonight’s gonna be like. She probably won’t even be able to sleep, not that she gets very much sleep anyway with all those thoughts of you bouncing around her head.

You blush at her comment. Ellie wonders how much you’d heat up if you knew about her thoughts, and it’s tempting to tell you… But she knows it’d be too soon. She has to be careful, methodical. She wouldn’t want to scare you, her perfect, delicate flower, away.

“What do you wanna do for the date, anyway? I was thinking a movie, but we wouldn’t get to talk very much if we did that. But I want it to be relaxing, since we’re away from the kids- kittens, for the afternoon and evening.”

“Maybe we could go to Chuck E. Cheese and inspect the pizzas to see if they’re really made of leftovers,” she suggests, snickering a bit. “My family took me and my brothers once, and they have this co-op Terminator game that’s really fun, even if you haven’t seen the movies.”

“That sounds great!” You agree. “I love it.”

And I love you, Ellie thinks.

That Friday, the two of you have an amazing time at Chuck E. Cheese, giggling and bonding over jokes and games, somehow enjoying pizza the same texture as cardboard.

“Kiss my hand for luck, please?” You ask Ellie, watching the light spin in the game you’re playing, Cyclone.

She blushes deeply, but tenderly takes your hand in her own and gently kisses the top. You watch the light dance between the bulbs before pressing the button.

“Holy shit, jackpot! Oh my god, this is the most fun I’ve ever had in my life,” You declare, tickets spewing from the machine.

“Really?” Ellie asks.

“Well...Yeah. You’re just so fun to be around, I feel so safe and happy with you. Sorry if that’s dumb, I just really like you.”

“No, it’s not dumb at all. I feel the same way about you,” she admits. She liked how you made her feel, too. The only time you ever made her feel bad was when she thought she’d never be with you, and that was really her making herself feel bad by being insecure. She tears the tickets from the machine once they’re done spewing, folding them up and keeping them with the others you’d earned together. “Being around you just makes me feel... Better. No matter what.”

“That’s so sweet!” you cheer, giving her a peck on the cheek and taking her hand. You take her to the next game, Skee-ball. “I suck at this, but it’s still fun.”

“I’ve been told I’m pretty good, do you want me to help you?” Ellie bluffs. She was average at best, but the easy excuse to be in close quarters with you was too tempting.

“Sure,” you reply, and something in your smile and the way you blush tells her you’re at least partially aware of her scheme...And that you like it. You put the required tokens into the slot.

Standing behind you with her chin on your shoulder, she takes your wrist into her hand. “Let go in 3…” She says quietly into your ear, relishing in your poorly-disguised shivering before she gently sways your arm forward. “2…” Then, back. Then, forward. “1.” You let go, and miraculously, it rolls up the ramp swiftly before bouncing into the 10,000 hole in the top corner.

“I guess at this point there’s no denying it. You’re my lucky charm, El,” you decide, turning to your date, who smiles at this, pleased.

The two of you continue to play various games before eventually running out of both tokens and energy.

“Okay, Y/N, cover me. I’m gonna do a trick my dad taught me,” she mutters as the two of you walk to the ticket counter. You stand between her and the woman at the prize counter, subtly looking around for personnel while she holds the ticket in place, letting the machine read it over and over again until it gets to about five hundred. She lets the tickets go in, and does this with the next strand, and the next, and the next.

At the end of it, you two have five thousand, five hundred and fifty tickets, at least, according to the receipt.You both approach the counter, and the attendant looks at your receipt.

“Uh-huh…” she eyes you both, but shrugs, deciding either that you two looked skilled enough to have this amount of tickets, or that it wasn’t worth pursuing. “Pick out your prizes.”

“Ooh, Ellie, wouldn’t that mini gumball machine be so cute to keep the kittens’ toys in? Plus, gum. It’s three-thousand tickets, so I understand if-”

“No, I like that idea,” Ellie cuts you off, before putting an arm around your waist to bring you closer, not liking the way the attendant was looking at you: giving you her full attention, not even bothering to hide it. “We’ll have the gumball machine, please.”

“Alright… You’ve got two thousand, five hundred and fifty tickets left.”

“Maybe the giant slinky? We could give it to Yukio for pet-sitting, she likes colorful stuff and novelty stuff,” Ellie suggests.

“Ooh, yeah! And then we could use the rest of the tickets to get little things the cats can play with? Like the rubber bracelets, those should be fine as long as we keep an eye on them.”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea,” Ellie agrees.

“Oh, but what about you? You deserve something,” you insist.

“Y/N… I think I’m good,” Ellie chuckles, and you remember that most of these prizes are, in fact, for young children.

“Right…” You nod. “Alright, we’ll have the giant rainbow slinky and as many of those small rubber bracelets and plastic frogs as we can get, if that’s alright,” you politely ask the woman behind the counter. She nods, uses her calculator, writes down your desires, retrieves all the requested items, and gives them to you and Ellie in a plastic bag. “Thank you so much, ma’am. Have a nice evening.”

“You two...too,” she replies with a laugh, and you laugh back. Jealousy courses through Ellie’s veins.

“Here, let me get the bag,” Ellie offers. She takes it and holds out her other arm for you to intertwine yours with. You do, leaving the arcade together. You rest your head on her shoulder the taxi ride home. She pets your hair, soothing you to sleep on the half-hour drive back.

It’s another week later when Ellie returns to her dorm from Poetry Club in a panic. She’d accidentally grabbed your math notebook, which could only mean you had her poetry journal.

She throws open the door, and finds her worst fear: You’re reading it.

“Y/N, I- I can explain,” she says, but she really can’t. Who can?

“These poems are really beautiful, Ellie. I can’t believe they’re about- About me.”

That’s not the reaction I was expecting. Maybe the one I was hoping for, but…

“Definitely not the reaction I was expecting,” Ellie breathes. You rise up from the bed, closing the notebook and approaching her. You give it to her, afterwards pressing your lips to hers in a gentle, but passionate kiss. She drops the notebook, holding your waist tightly. Eventually, you part, foreheads pressed together.

“Ellie, I- I read them all, and… I- I want to take comfort in you, like what you said. And I know that there’s a darkness in you, and that embracing it will probably cost me my soul… But a part of me just doesn’t care.”

“Perfect,” Ellie responds, taking your face in her hands. She presses a kiss to your forehead. “You’re all mine.”

You nod, looking into those beautiful eyes of hers.

“All yours.”

#negasonic teenage warhead #negasonic teenage warhead x reader #negasonic teenage warhead imagine #negasonicteenageimagines #ellie phimister imagine #Ellie Phimister #ellie phimister x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #xmen #xmen imagine #fanfiction #deadpool fanfiction #wlw fanfiction #wlw #wlw x reader #wlw imagine #yandere #yandere imagine

52 notes · View notes

punkscowardschampions · 5 years

Text

Ali & Carly

Ali: . . . – – – . . . Carly: ? Carly: nodded on your phone Ali: OG 🍑📞 Ali: nah save me Carly: it's pretty lemme just grab a 💄 really quick Carly: what's up baby? Ali: you are and I need distracting Ali: got band practice and I really have to Ali: missed the last two so she's dead moody Carly: go solo ill play a tambourine for you Carly: until you get famous anyway Ali: we'll get you those noise cancelling headphones they give to rockstars kids Ali: then you just gotta close your eyes n shine Carly: aw Carly: you're a 🍑 Carly: but before then I know how to sweeten up rockstars Carly: lots of jd is 🔑 yea so ill swipe ronans & its a party Ali: know that'll go down a treat Ali: almost as good as the ego stroke of calling them rockstars Carly: y you asked me its a not so hidden talent of mine Carly: strokes where needed Ali: 🎨 Ali: alright monet Ali: I'll try not to make it completely boring Carly: i have to take 5 to finish up here or he'll be dead moody Carly: so he's all you have to be more fun than Carly: & whats more boring than a horny lad when ur not feeling it Ali: easy Ali: I remember being that bored Ali: less memory more reliving but shh Ali: all fun and games yeah ✌ Carly: yea Carly: he gets it over quick tho some go & go without getting u anywhere Carly: ha Carly: ive got a home to go to sometimes boy Ali: he's very considerate like that Carly: i wont share it w him too big of a word for rn Carly: wheres this practice @ Ali: 'course not Ali: all he needs to hear is biggest and best Ali: memory serves Ali: in one of the other's garage Ali: so punk rock Ali: I'll come meet you Carly: long as he can call me a slut & I make the right noises it dont matter what I say Carly: thats every lad on here Carly: k well he's done so direct me Carly: u dont wanna meet me outside here Ali: if that's your jam, go off Ali: you mean you don't trust me not to 👊 your mans 😏 Ali: I started walking, call me a pessimist, Ronan 🤷 Carly: yea u kno for a good time call any of these caravans Carly: the old lady w the gnomes is a dark horse like Carly: i don't want u to see me looking this way ty ronan 💘 Carly: so rough about everything Carly: him & u ha Ali: she's living my dream, I remember her Ali: the pink trailer, like Ali: shoulda been going to see her if not you Ali: 🤡 Ali: you alright? Ali: you need a sec or Ali: idk, anything else Carly: her cats are living my dream Carly: lying in the sun all day, getting fat Carly: being loved whenever they ask Carly: i need a drink but im taking all of his its k Ali: duh Ali: only had it slightly better in ancient Egypt, like Ali: forever goals Ali: we'll drink it on the way Ali: need to see where to put their fingers Ali: not code for gay shit but like Ali: also Carly: theres lots they can have some as promised Carly: he owed me for all the 💊 Ali: you're sweet Carly: we can get your gf ☕ to dump it in thats the adult thing to do Carly: trying to make her happy not more mad Ali: she's 17 Ali: she just fronts a good game Ali: suppose one of us should Ali: #badgirlfriend Carly: ur the best wife tho Carly: ive missed u Ali: 😚 Ali: comments like that are why I've deffo missed you more Carly: aw Carly: comments like urs r why ill make today really fun for u Ali: 💚 Ali: we can make anything a party yeah Carly: yea Carly: but u gotta help me carry these drinks to cos i think my wrist was broken from all the coaxing that boy needs when hes been on it Ali: ugh, the struggle is so real Ali: though if you use that as an ice breaker they're all gonna look at you blankly Ali: fucking lesbian priviledge amirite Carly: i bet at least one of them's hurt their wrist trying to get a girl off Carly: half who go to our school r so uptight you need to check for sticks Carly: catholic guilt be like Ali: 😂 real Ali: but you gotta be on my side Ali: already outnumbered Ali: team bi for the day okay Carly: so i can talk about masturbating with my grandma's jesus cross or i cant Ali: you can Ali: that's a story whoevers company Ali: 'cept grandma, obvs Carly: punk rock enough? Carly: if theyre all as scary as ur lesbian im shotgunning more beers Carly: bag of recycling before we even get to the garage Ali: when she cares about the 🌍 Ali: 😍 Ali: they ain't, if we're being real Carly: dont want the earth to die Carly: its so pretty Carly: & fun Carly: k i wont have every can Carly: before we get there Ali: 👼🌟🌈🍓🐰👸 Ali: you Ali: and I'm literally just 'round the corner hold on Ali: not dragging my feet 'cos of you babe Carly: ur too sweet Carly: are you the singer & the guitarist or do they make you just do one cos youre too big of a 🌟 Ali: got it in one babe, I'm relegated to guitar #2 most the time Ali: at least you can own the stage more when you ain't so Carly: ill tell them you need to be 1st guitar & lead singer you're too talented for it to go to waste Carly: its sad Carly: but its cute that youre in a band together Ali: you wanna be backup baby? Carly: yea but i cant 😢😢 Ali: you can when it's just us though Ali: you're too pure for rock n roll anyway Ali: their brand of Carly: how you said that makes me think i need to drink more Ali: it's a good thing about you Ali: just saying though, my voice will be fucked by the end of this Carly: ill get you some 🍯 baby Carly: you can be 👼 again in no time Carly: church ready Ali: only if you coming with Ali: 😈 Carly: only if we do some more sinning first Carly: make it worth the walk Ali: naturally Ali: how we do Carly: k Carly: are all the band dating each other or just you two Ali: 😏 more and more apparent how straight you ain't tbh Ali: currently off again, I think Ali: they've all dated each other though, every which way you can combo it Carly: i have met a lesbian before ur rescued me @ that party Carly: been hit on by lots Carly: i kno they like to date in circles & all kinds of other shapes Ali: I bet Carly: aw don't be jealous Carly: i didnt like it Carly: ur my fave Ali: I'm not Ali: am glad I ain't giving off those predatory vibes though Ali: good to know, like Carly: you give off the best vibes Ali: 👼 energy, baby Carly: 🌟💙 Ali: let's hit 'em with it Carly: yea Ali: after she can drive us to a decent shindig 🤞 Carly: me & a car full of gays Carly: ronan will be in a mood ha Ali: always a bonus Ali: also always in a mood Ali: they really would get on if she could get over the whole man hate vibe Carly: ill bring him to the next rehearsal Carly: he thinks hes got what it takes Ali: 😏 Ali: I'll put my money on Mar Ali: poor boy Carly: steals my 🎸 every time he comes over Carly: i cant be impressed that you can play 2 chords baby boy I'm sorry Ali: 😩💦 Ali: even as relegated #2 I can do more than that Ali: promise Carly: me too & im only groupie #1 Carly: he still tries to teach me tho Carly: so boring Ali: 🙄 Ali: what a dickhead Ali: he just wants to be behind you to 'position' your hands, boys love that shit don't they Ali: I know how to play pool too so get off Carly: we should play my da taught me Carly: make some money & have some fun Ali: I'm down Carly: k Carly: cos i need to buy more 💊s he really did eat them all Carly: 😢😢 Ali: Babe Ali: I know a reliable lad Ali: invite him Ali: make it a party Carly: yea me & him been up since i saw you last how long ago was that? forever it feels Carly: be more fun away from site Ali: damn Ali: how the other half live Ali: I feel like I haven't had any fun since I last saw you Ali: get enough to take the edge of your comedown if nothing else or that'll be rough Carly: i wanted to invite u my baby but u kno how he gets Carly: hates that weve met Carly: ill make you feel good now promise Carly: hes had too much of my time Ali: worried that Imma tell you horror stories like you don't know him? Ali: backatcha 💚 Ali: swear Carly: yea he thinks my head's empty Carly: just a body like Carly: not that weve done school for years together or anything Carly: i kno i dont always go but boy come on Ali: you're miles ahead of him Ali: he only acts like he reckons that 'cos he don't want you coming to your senses and binning him off proper, like Carly: ur lil bro writes & reads better Carly: but hes a smart lil cutie Carly: what am i gonna do move the caravan in the middle of the night? no wheels is there Carly: stuck as fwb til he gets married his wife finds out & comes for me Ali: yeah he likes you too Ali: always chatting on when you coming 'round again so you know Ali: better hang some more, for his sake Ali: I know you got locks Carly: aw i love him Carly: always wanted a lil bro but my rents dont fuck no more so that ain't happening Carly: unless my dad knocks up someone younger Carly: u kno id lock myself out & end up round there Carly: ha Ali: lil blue pills don't fail us now Ali: ick Ali: should go to casa flamenco Ali: don't think she'd steal your stash Ali: oldies always have their own, the real good shit too Carly: that what ur calling it Carly: ill steal hers Ali: exactly Ali: 😍 #babe Ali: ronan who Carly: i do go older but not sure i could handle peeling back the wrinkles Ali: weak 😉 Carly: you seduce her for me, thats love Carly: & you wanna be under her anyway Ali: 'scuse you Ali: I'm happily married Carly: me too Carly: pimping me out to the older generation wasnt in the vows were it Ali: could've been Ali: you know how creative I am Carly: yea i do love that about you Ali: I 👀 you Ali: [runs up and takes some of the shit] Carly: [unnecessarily long hug moment because always] Ali: ['it does feel like forever'] Carly: [just rambling on about how much she's missed her & like all the compliments for how she looks/what she's wearing etc cos again always] Ali: [lbr she'd go all out for rehersals even so it would be a look, Ali lowkey fixing Carly up whilst checking 'cos was concerned but not gonna make it a Thing tm] Carly: [save her Ali she looks like shit rn & your gf don't need to be seeing her like that] Ali: [finishing by kissing her nose 'cos that is a thing] Carly: [😳 but really happy obvs & another hug cos they really have missed each other so] Ali: [walking and talking baby] Carly: [& letting Ali catch up with all the drinks Carly's had] Ali: [giving her the lowdown on the other bitches who are clearly not as scary as kstew] Carly: [you'd think she's not listening because 1. state of her & 2. how distracting Ali is in her lewk but she is] Ali: [is like soz it's boring but I'll make it fun] Carly: [she's like its not you're just pretty & also I'm saving you & making it fun] Ali: ['not about to beg but please do'] Carly: ['knew I should've locked that down in the vows' cos being flirty with it] Ali: ['too late now babe, 'less you make me wanna renew'] Carly: [is just like yeah okay will do, soz kstew but we know its true so] Ali: [turning up to your function, imagine kstews face oop] Carly: [Carly handing the booze out cos she's a babe while kstew talks shit on her by pulling Ali aside like we said] Carly: u want me to go? Ali: [Ali tryna explain but also being kinda over this mood like why can't she be here, u lowkey know why but you know] Ali: no Ali: don't Ali: I'll sort it Carly: k Carly: [Carly just drinking a little bit too hard cos the vibe is wrong & her anxiety don't need this thank you ladies] Ali: [just walking away and being like okay come on let's start 'cos can't argue if you're playing] Carly: [pissing about on some spare instruments while they're setting up cos awks] Ali: I've text the lad Ali: reckons 10 minutes 👍 Carly: 💙🌟 Carly: ty Ali: [ooh crimson and clover 'cos joan did it and it'd be a sexy moment so blatantly directed at carly] Carly: [Carly literally 😍 harder than her gf is, oops] Carly: [& so many compliments as soon as the song is over before kstew can get a word in, god bless] Ali: [gently/not being a patronizing dick with it showing her dance moves and stuff like getting her involved without being like you have to perform now lol] Carly: [k stew fuming like now the WARM UP is done we should play OUR songs we all know the type like excuse you everyone is having fun especially my sweet baby angel] Ali: [being like oh but I just learnt this song it's got a good bass bit we should do that, overruled lol] Carly: [has to go with it cos no argument she can make that won't sound petty as hell and not trying to look like that bitch in front of the squad] Ali: [doing electric feel for the gay sexiness] Carly: [Carly even more into it cos a song she knows cos lets say she don't know the glory of our cat song just because so its such a moment okay bye] Carly: [Marlene calling a 🚬 break immediately after cos fuming & that can also be when Drew comes] Ali: [as if you weren't fuming enough there's how a man here 😍 at your woman, also giving them droogs] Carly: [meanwhile Carly ain't noticed cos sharing a 🚬 with the prettiest & least intimidating lesbian perched on her lap like so cosy....way to kill Ali babe we know she's special but let her know please] Carly: [hops off to get her drugs but still a moment] Ali: [these other girls just stirring the pot rn lmao] Carly: [that girl being like you should come out with us & Carly's like yeah cos she's pure] Ali: you know this one's flirting with you too, yeah? Ali: 😏 Carly: ha Carly: shes nice Ali: yeah Ali: pretty cute Carly: u kno the dealer wants to fuck you tho yea Carly: hes pretty Ali: obvs Ali: his hairs a bit naff but yeah Carly: ur gf is gonna drag him out by it Carly: let me slip him my number first ty Ali: lol 🙄 Ali: better you have his, no Ali: 💊 Ali: idk why she's the fun police today Carly: k good idea Carly: [goes to get his deets] Carly: she's so mad Carly: u gotta love me more when shes not around Ali: i ain't done nothing Carly: shes jealous of me like i am of her Carly: two girls one 💙 Carly: [lowkey flirting with Drew before he gets thrown out] Ali: hmm Ali: maybe you can duel Ali: [helping herself 'cos they clearly got enough to go around 'cos Drew's easy lol] Carly: 😢😢 Carly: you want me to be killed Ali: don't be silly Ali: not very gentlemanly of her, she'd never Ali: for someone so punk she loves following rules you know Carly: y u like her or y ur bored? Ali: [casually loling at her phone like what you think] Carly: [a moment of eye contact soz kstew] Carly: y dont i kno this lad? Ali: idk Ali: he wasn't always that cocky Ali: maybe his pubes came in Carly: ha Carly: ill find out Carly: gotta b known as the school slag not the girl who pissed herself on the stage Ali: more catchy Ali: I get it Carly: u only remember our wedding day i kno but it tends to stick in everyone else's memories Carly: a day of bad vibes Ali: I remember you but not like that Carly: hope its not worse Carly: how you do Carly: [casually taking too many 💊 to deal with the bender she's been on with the gypsies, you know Drew will remember her like this] Ali: nah Ali: you were cute Ali: and nice when all these random english kids showed up Carly: cos you were cuter Carly: im always nice to the pretty ones Ali: 💘 Ali: s'a good line walsh, you get it off him n all Carly: 💔😢 Carly: i love you i dont need him feeding me those kind of lines Carly: we gotta crush some of these tho its gonna take forever to kick in Ali: only joking baby don't be sad Ali: [comes over and helps 'cos why not kstew already furious her band practice has descended into anarchy] Carly: [using a shoe she's wearing for once to crush pills casually but stops to put her head on Ali's shoulder cos is sad lowkey] Ali: [gives her top of the head kisses] Carly: [is smiling again & telling her how much she missed her again and all that good gay content while Marlene fumes in the distance] Ali: [whispers like sorry for the bad vibes and I am gonna fix this 'cos she knows it's been fucked but realistically don't know what she's doing about it yet 'cos where do we stand] Carly: [kisses her on the forehead cos that big brain always thinking & worrying & she know] Carly: u wanna 👃 or 👅? Ali: 👃 Carly: yea dont want a numb mouth Carly: no fun Ali: probably would help my throat but kinda 'bout that smokes and drinks a 40 a day vibe so Ali: soz to my nasal cavity in advance Carly: the 🍯 is coming as promised Carly: [puts enough powder in her hand for Ali to snort, how intimate excuse them like she could have used her own hand or any surface Carly but go off] Ali: you're sweet enough darling Ali: [soz kstew just gals being pals 'cos obvs returning the favour and 'holding her hair out the way' aka stroking it] Carly: [when you more about that intimacy than the drug you're trying to take] Carly: aw Ali: [moment being ruined by some kind of unignorable strop moment from marlene clearly so she has to go and have an argument brb] Carly: should i go now? Ali: wait for me Ali: please? Ali: outside if you like or whatever, I'm being selfish but Ali: I ain't staying either Carly: k Carly: [is outside quietly singing a little mash up of both gay covers while she waits, just little bits of lyrics she likes from each lol] Ali: [not tryna drag this out and clearly we can't let it get to let's break up point so] Carly: lets go have some real fun Ali: [when she comes out, resting her arms on her shoulders and spinning her 'round and 'round like let's go] Carly: [is loving life again bye bitches] Ali: ['we can do anything we wanna' means now but also like always] Carly: [is buzzing because her life is literally so stagnant already like what a welcome premise & hugs her cos that's what she wants to do, always gotta be touching] Ali: [and hand holding] Carly: [complimenting her AGAIN as they going along cos she's a really good singer tbf so] Ali: [chatting away 'bout the kinda music she wanna do and what the band is about and starting her own etc but also about how pretty Carly's voice is and how it's too precious for the stage anyway] Carly: [okay but after they've nerded out over music Carly be like 'wait for me' runs into a shop really quick & buys Ali some honey for real cos she that nerd & presents it to her really happily wrapped in her headscarf or something cos again nerd] Ali: [you know how buzzing and touched she'd be 'cos also that nerd, being like you're such an angel and imma get you something so special etc] Carly: [Carly like you gotta eat it tho & opens it right there like she gonna drip it into Ali's mouth if she don't how gaaaaaay, steals some with her finger too obvs cos cute but also accidentally sexy all the time] Ali: [winnie screeching in the distance] Carly: [gets a phone call from her mum & answers in this state cos no fucks given on either side & then turns to Ali like my turn to take you to a family bbq cos I think the contrast would be hilarious so we should but not now cos give them some alone time @ god] Ali: [is down 'cos she's not a snob unlike someone we know rosalin and she'd be lowkey about it 'cos any excuse to spend time] Carly: [ronan will 100% be there cos hilarious like you gotta fight him Ali tbh] Carly: [just rambling about how much she loves Ali rn though cos always] Carly: 💙🌟🐝👼🚀 Ali: [backatcha and dropping the charity shop plan] Carly: [is so down obvs like little kid levels of excited] Ali: [running thru the streets of dublin like babes] Carly: [god fucking bless] Ali: [charity shop crawl so wild like leave 'em be world] Carly: [like how pure that they think of cat lady Ro & kstew would never bitch] Ali: [probably making friends with all the nice old ladies in there/horrifying the old bitches tho too lol] Carly: [this is why Carly makes my heart hurt cos she'd wanna be friends but would probably horrify lol] Ali: [tbf they are high] Carly: [as per again let them live peeps its summer] Ali: [should steal something but like something really tiny and silly 'cos sinning and stealing from a charity shop is pretty bad in a cute way somehow lol] Carly: [but leaving shoes behind or something cos barefoot life so the universe is balanced] Ali: [and ali would buy stuff for 'em both but making sure carly knows this ain't THE gift 'cos wants to swag that lol] Carly: [okay but can they also come back to buy homewares for the caravan when she gets her own thanks bye] Ali: [absolutely, just window shopping rn how you do like 'when I have my own place' but saying we 'cos #married] Carly: [Ali can actually get one of the actual things when cos its still there, oh my heart]

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sapphyrelily · 7 years

Text

Five - You Are In Love

It only took me 6 months to write a new chapter orz

“Do you want to go see that movie tomorrow?”

“The action one?”

“You don’t even know its name.”

He laughs at the accusatory tone in his friend’s voice. “I’m not very caught up on what’s showing.”

“Fine. So, wanna go?”

“Sure.” Shirabu rolls over onto his stomach, fingering the edge of his blanket. “Let me know the time, I’ll be there.”

“I’ll check the timing and let you know.”

“Sure. See you then.”

The line clicks off after Iwaizumi says his goodbyes, and even after Shirabu sets his phone down, he can’t stop grinning.

He grabs his pillow to hide his smile in it, but it doesn’t work very well, and he ends up grabbing his phone again. He crosses and uncrosses his ankles as he composes a new text, making too many errors in his hurry.

[Kenjirou]: GUESS WHOS GOING TO A MOVIE WITH IWA-SAN TMR

His phone buzzes with a reply almost immediately, and he grins.

[Taichi]: oh, i coulfnt possibly guess

The sarcastic reply doesn’t deter him.

[Kenjirou]: Yeah, yeah, you’re salty I get it

[Taichi]: i m so much closer 2 getting a bf than u r

[Kenjirou]: lies

[Taichi]: only truths

[Kenjirou]: Forgive me if I don’t trust you

[Taichi]: u trusted me? when?

[Kenjirou]: asshat

[Taichi]: douchenugget

[Kenjirou]: I hate you and your tall ass

[Taichi]: my ass isnt tall, the rest of me is

[Kenjirou]: Spectacular. Like I needed to know that

[Taichi]: o I kno im spectacular.

[Kenjirou]: goodbye

[Taichi]: guees who else thinks im spectacular

[Kenjirou]: Not interested in ur love life

[Taichi]: but u want deets on my sex life n im happy 2 oblige

[Kenjirou]: NO THANKS

Shirabu is about to throw his phone across the room when it starts vibrating, and he curses the name on his screen.

“Taichi, no.”

“Taichi, yes.” His best friend snickers, and Shirabu collapses onto his pillow, groaning.

“So as I was saying, I am this much closer to getting a boyfriend than you are.”

“No one said I’m not making progress.” Shirabu mumbles to his pillow.

“That pretty much confirms that you’re not.”

“Look here, I’m trying–”

“Try harder.”

“Oi, not all of us are like you.”

“Hmm, I suppose I could share some of my charm with you.”

“Ew. Go back to the bin you came from.”

“Rude.”

“Only the best for you,” he croons, and laughs at the dry retching from the other end of the line.

The door creaks open, and he tosses a careless Welcome back over his shoulder, half-listening to Kawanishi’s semi-serious cursing.

“Is that Taichi?” An amused voice asks, and Shirabu doesn’t bother to glance up before putting his friend on speaker.

“–you are absolutely hopeless and I hope you never get together with someone, for the sake of their sanity–”

Semi bursts into laughter, and the voice on the other end comes to an abrupt halt.

“Kenjirou, I’m going to kill you. Stop putting me on speaker.”

“Come to Tokyo and fight me, I dare you.”

“I’ll book a ticket right now, see if I don’t–”

“Mmhmm. I’ll let you know if the part of me that cares comes back from war.”

“You suck.”

“No more than you do.”

“On the contrary, I probably get a lot more sucking action than you do–”

Shirabu chokes and promptly turns the speaker off while Semi howls with laughter.

-----

Semi has entered and left the room three different times, two hours have passed, and Shirabu is still on the phone.

He never thought Kawanishi had it in him to talk for that long.

He’s settling down with a book when he hears “–yeah, of course I’ll tell you all about it. And send you spoilers.”

A pause, and a burst of laughter, possibly at Kawanishi's indignation. “You do it to me all the time, asshole. It’s about time I got payback.

“Mmhmm. Right. I do no such thing, stop spreading lies about me.”

Semi begins to think that he should just listen in instead of reading. Shirabu and Kawanishi’s conversations are more amusing than a soap opera, and infinitely more interesting than his book.

“Whatever. I’m going to shower, my phone’s burning my ear off. Mm. Right. Bye.”

Shirabu tosses the phone aside and collapses on his pillow, and Semi tries very hard to immerse himself in his book.

(He gets called out anyway.)

“How long were you actually listening to us talk?”

Semi glances up, but Shirabu isn’t looking at him. It looks like he’s trying to suffocate himself with the pillow, and Semi wonders what brought that on. “Is that really a question? I walked in and out thrice and you were on the phone for two hours.”

“Hnn.” His roommate rolls over, removing himself from the possibility of suffocation, and regards him with his head on his hand. “So how much did you hear?”

“Do I look like I would really remember everything that you two were talking about–”

“Badly phrased question.” Shirabu cuts him off with a wave of his free hand. “How nosy do you want to be, before I forget whatever Taichi said?”

“Why, thank you for thinking of me and including me in the sharing of your deep, dark secrets.”

“Bye.” Shirabu rolls off the bed and heads for his dresser, while Semi snickers behind him.

“Okay, okay, I was kidding. I was curious about one thing.”

Shirabu looks up from a half-closed drawer, raising an eyebrow at him to continue.

“You’re watching a movie sometime?”

“Oh, yeah.” A hint of a smile tilts Shirabu’s lips up, right before he schools his face back into neutrality. “Tomorrow. Not sure what time yet.”

“Oh, nice. Have fun.” He smiles.

“Why do you want to know?”

“You said I could be nosy.”

“You’re never nosy without reason,” Shirabu counters, walking back to perch on the edge of his bed, his toiletries balanced on his knees. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Semi protests. “Can I not be curious about what 'spoilers' might mean without a reason?”

“No.”

“Suck it up then. There’s no other reason.”

“You’re such a pain.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“Ugh.” Shirabu heads towards the room door. “Bye.”

“I’ll still be here when you get back, you know.”

“Ew. Don’t remind me.”

Semi laughs a little as the door clicks shut behind him, putting their conversation out of mind as he finally starts reading.

-----

Semi's phone buzzes, and he grins at the message.

It’s been a while since he heard from this friend.

He opens up the text, composing a reply, ignoring the creak as the door opens.

“What are you smiling at?”

“A friend is in Tokyo.” He continues replying to the person, snickering at their responses.

“Ooh, exciting. I didn’t know you had friends.”

Semi throws a spare pillow in his direction, uncaring if it hits its target or not.

Shirabu catches the pillow with a huff, hugging it to himself as he rubs his towel over his hair with his other hand. “Am I allowed to know who this mysterious friend is?”

“Since you were so rude, no.” Semi puts his phone down and picks his book back up, smirking at him. “Besides, you have mysterious friends too.”

“Touché.” Shirabu doesn’t comment further. He’s not ready to share the identity of his 'mysterious friend’ just yet.

He can hear the little vibrations as Semi gets new messages, but opts to tune him out as he turns their hair dryer on. It feels good to dry his hair even though they are in the heat of summer, and he shakes his dried hair out to rid it of the excess heat.

“I’m never going to get over how fluffy your hair is,” he hears. Shirabu rolls his eyes, though he knows his roommate can’t see it.

“Semi-san, you can’t really be talking to me about fluffy hair.”

“I believe I just did.”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“Does the reflection on my phone screen count?”

Semi laughs as Shirabu throws his pillow back at him with another roll of his eyes. “Okay, okay, geez. I have a serious question now.”

“Oooh, scary.”

“Shut up, Semi-san.”

“Come over here and make me.”

“Oh, gladly.”

Shirabu stalks the two strides across their room and grabs the pillow, but Semi keeps a hold on it, already guessing what he’s about to do.

They grapple back and forth for some time before Semi’s grip suddenly slackens, and Shirabu tumbles atop him. But then the pillow is up in his face, smothering him instead, and a push on his shoulder unbalances him enough that he gets rolled over, a muffled laugh above him.

“Yield,” he hears Semi say, but with his mouth full of pillow, Shirabu can only shove against it in hope of a gulp of air.

The grip on the pillow slackens as he knew it would, Semi pulling it back to allow him to breathe. Shirabu shoves weakly against his roommate, trying to dislodge him from where he and the pillow are crushing his chest. “Can’t breathe.”

“Yes, you can,” Semi says, but the pressure eases up anyway. It’s just enough for Shirabu to push the ash blond off and sit up, blocking the pillow when it comes for him again.

They push against each other, the pillow squashed between them, neither gaining an inch.

“Give up.”

“Never.”

“Then I guess you won’t be sleeping with this pillow tonight.”

“I have a spare, don’t worry.”

“I’ll pummel you with this.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Maybe you’re right. Too much mess to clean up.”

“I knew it. You're too lazy to clean up your normal mess, how are you going to clean up if you murder me?”

“I’ll just get someone else to murder you for me,” Shirabu says simply. “And I don’t have a ‘normal mess’, you do!”

“I don’t have that many enemies,” Semi counters, choosing to ignore the latter half of what Shirabu said.

“You’d never know.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.”

“Did you expect anything less?”

“No,” Semi admits. “But then again, I never take puffballs seriously.”

“Puffball–!”

“Look in a mirror, Shirabu.” Semi gives him a huge shove, his grin half-hidden by the pillow. The action pushes his roommate to the edge of the bed, and his hand shoots out to muss up Shirabu’s hair such that it sticks up even more. “Come back when you look more serious.”

“I’m always serious,” the brunet complains, smacking away the hand and trying to smooth the strands down. But he does get off Semi's bed to return to his own, flopping down and pulling the blanket over himself. “I refuse to talk to you any more.”

“Good riddance.”

Shirabu lifts his head to glare at him. “I will murder you myself, one day.”

“But that day is not today,” Semi guesses. The stony glare Shirabu gives him confirms this, and he snickers as he moves to turn off the light. “Well, whatever. I’ve got stuff to do tomorrow, I can’t stay up and argue with you.”

“Thank god,” Shirabu mutters. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Semi pulls his blanket over his shoulders, smiling into the darkness as he relives their tussle.

Living with Shirabu can be fun, sometimes.

-----

Semi doesn’t notice him until he’s nearly on top of him, chocolate eyes boring into cocoa, staring, staring, waiting for a reaction.

Semi takes a step back and exhales deeply. “Koushi, could you maybe not do that?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Suga laughs. They fall into step together, heading towards the shops. “Can’t resist, you know? There’s not many people I can sneak up on.”

“I suppose Sawamura isn’t affected by it?”

“Daichi is so placid,” Suga complains. “He never reacts to anything I do.”

“Anything?”

“Well…”

“Nope,” Semi says, putting his palm up in Suga's face. “I know that look. I don’t need any dirty details, thanks.”

Suga shrugs and grins. “Your loss. But you started it.”

“What can I say? You’re a bad influence.”

Suga gasps in mock-affront, putting a hand over his heart. “Eita, how dare you. I have the purest heart–”

“And the dirtiest mind.”

“You got me.” Suga drops his hand and the pretence, his grin wide. “Glad to know you haven’t changed.”

“And you.” Semi laughs.

“Anyway, how've you been?”

“Eh.” He shrugs. “Ups and downs. School life, you know?”

Suga nods. “As it is with all of us. But you know, other than school, what’s up?”

“…we met two minutes ago and you’re already asking for details on my love life?”

“You’re right, I should have asked immediately.”

Semi rolls his eyes. “You really haven’t changed.”

“Nor do you want me to.”

“Touché.”

“So, so? Give me the details.” Suga nudges him as he steers them towards a bookshop, and Semi laughs.

“Nothing's happened. I’m too busy for a love life. My roommate is irritating, but other than that, every other part of my life is fine.”

“Ah, right. Everyone’s younger than you in your year, aren’t they?”

“Most people, yes. Would you believe that I ended up becoming friends with a few of the volleyball players we used to meet at tournaments?”

“Wow. Some luck. Who?”

“Nekoma’s second year setter and Datekou's second year captain. I think he was a middle blocker?”

“You mean when we were third years and they were second years?” Suga asks.

“Yes, yes. I keep forgetting that they became the third years after us.”

“You’re old,” his silver-haired friend teases. “Datekou’s captain, huh? I think he was a wing spiker.” Suga hums as he thinks, tapping his chin. “Yeah. Wing spiker.”

His gaze lifts, and he gives Semi an amused smile. “Kozume-kun and Futakuchi-kun, huh? What unlikely friends.”

“I know right? Wait, you know them too?”

“Kozume-kun is from Nekoma,” Suga reminds him. “Nekoma and Karasuno are ‘fated rivals’. And Datekou is a Miyagi school, same as ours. We used to have practice matches with them.”

“Come to think of it, Kenma might have told me the same thing about your schools a long time ago.”

“Oooh, first name basis. How scandalous.” Suga wiggles his eyebrows, and Semi punches his shoulder lightly. “I’ll tell Hinata, he’ll be so sad that he wasn’t told about this development.”

The ash blond rolls his eyes. “We’re not that kind of friends.”

“Bah. You’re no fun, Eita.”

“You just like gossip.”

“Now, now, let’s not go making false accusations.” Suga shakes a finger at him, a mischievous look on his face. “Tell me more about your uni life instead!”

Semi rolls his eyes and grins. He’s missed Suga’s antics. “Fine. I’ll indulge you. Where was I?”

“I don’t know. Something about your roommate?”

“Right!” Semi snaps his fingers, the words coming back to him. “So, fate decided that I'm not tormented enough and now I’m stuck with Shirabu as a roommate.”

“Shirabu… Isn’t he that underclassman of yours?”

“The one and only.” Semi rolls his eyes. “I must have offended too many people in my past life.”

“Tough luck.” Suga pats him on the arm. “Is he as awful as he was?”

“He has his good and bad days.” Semi pauses, before a smirk creeps across his face, a thought coming to mind. “Although recently, he's been very secretive about some friends of his.”

“Oh?” Suga leans in, eyes glinting.

“And apparently, he has a partner, whom none of our mutual friends know about.”

“Oh.” His friend nods knowingly. “Very curious.”

“And apparently, they’re catching a movie some time today.”

“What? Why didn’t you say so earlier? Let’s go find out who this mysterious partner is!” Suga is suddenly ten times more energetic and tries to drag him out of the bookstore, but Semi pulls him back.

“We don’t know where they went,” he points out, to which Suga rolls his eyes.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll find out.”

“Aren’t we kind of violating his privacy by doing this?”

“You wouldn’t have told me if you didn’t want to violate his privacy at least a little,” Suga points out, phone already to his ear. He holds up a finger, turning his attention to the person he called. “Hi Tooru-chan. We need a favour.”

Tooru-chan?

“Did I say 'we'? My bad, you don’t need to know who my partner in crime is today.” Suga pauses, brow furrowing at something the other person said. “Can’t help me? Just what sort of important mission are you up to that you would deny me, your best friend– Wow, you’ve got nerve. Iwaizumi’s gonna kill you if he finds out.”

Semi follows in amusement as Suga weaves between bookshelves, talking to someone whom he assumes is Oikawa. “A date? Are you certain? Well then, who’s this mysterious figure? You don’t know? Wow, the great Oikawa Tooru, stumped at last!”

Suga suddenly stops, a hand over his mouth. “No. No way. Oh man, this is too good. Text me your address, we’ll be right there. Why? I’m coming with you, you dense coconut! Plus, this is the perfect scenario for all of us. What? Then go buy tickets! Get three, we’ll be right over. Hurry up, Tooru, don’t lose him now. Bye.”

Suga turns around, then takes a step back, eyes wide at Semi’s close proximity. “Gee, you scared me. But anyway, come on! We’ve got a movie to catch.”

“What? A movie? Koushi, tell me what happened!”

“I’ll tell you on the way.” Suga grabs his wrist and drags him along. “So my informant–”

“Oikawa.”

“Yes, dear old Tooru-chan. He was stalking Iwaizumi to find out who he was going out with and refused to help me, but what do you know?” Suga levels a sly grin at Semi. “The person we’re stalking just so happens to be the one Iwaizumi’s meeting up with.”

Semi stares at him blankly, and Suga uses a finger to close his hanging jaw. “You’ll catch flies. Lots of them, because it’s summer.”

“We’re in a shopping mall, there are no flies here,” Semi replies. “Are you serious, though?”

“About what Tooru-chan said? Yeah, he sounded dumbstruck. I’m pretty sure it is real.”

Semi shakes his head. He doesn’t know if he’s more confused or stunned to finally have the last piece of the puzzle. “Shirabu’s going out with Iwaizumi?”

“Only one way to find out, don’t you think?” Suga grins. “Come on, I just got the text, it’s the next mall over.”

-----

Oikawa is on his phone and tapping his foot impatiently when they spot him. He’s poorly disguised with a white hoodie over a neon pink shirt, coupled with teal bermudas. The sunglasses on his head seem to be slipping, and he pushes them back just as Semi and Suga approach him.

“Tooru-chan. What the hell are you wearing?”

“Clothes, Koushi-chan, clothes.” Oikawa glances up from his device, then does a double-take. “Semi-chan?”

“Nice to see you too, Oikawa,” he replies drily.

Oikawa shakes his head, causing the sunglasses to fall onto his nose. “Nope. Nuh-uh. You said nothing about your partner in crime being him.”

“He is standing right here. And he’s coming with us.”

“No.”

“Yes. No one’s interested in Iwaizumi’s chastity here except you, Tooru-chan. I’ll pay you back later, let’s go catch up with the lovebirds first.” Suga puts his hands on Oikawa’s shoulders and spins him around, pushing him towards the cinema.

Oikawa’s hands flail, making several pointless gestures before they stop dead, falling to his sides. “Wait, you’re here to stalk Shirabu-chan?”

“I have a vested interest in what my roommate does,” Semi tells him. “What Iwaizumi does is none of my business.”

“If the two of them are really on a date, then it’s Iwa-chan's business as well, no?”

“And that’s why, friends, we are here to stalk them and find out, yes?” Suga slings an arm around both of them, easily dragging them along though both are taller than him. “Now come on. This is prime blackmail material. Tooru-chan, which hall is it?”

“Seven. Wait, wrong direction, that’s the other way.”

With a lot more hustling and bustling and whispered arguments about their extremely pure intentions for following their friends, they make it to the movie theatre, only to find that their seats are at the bottom.

“Tooru-chan, how the heck are we supposed to spy on anyone from the bottom?” Suga whispers ferociously.

“Those were the only seats left!” Oikawa whisper-shouts back.

Semi sighs and pushes on their backs. “Just go. Keep an eye out for them as we walk, we don’t want to be spotted.”

Suga twists to wiggle his eyebrows at him. “Eita, you’re learning.”

“I don’t want Shirabu to spot us and start yelling. Not that that’s likely, but you’d never know.”

“Iwa-chan might lob something at me,” Oikawa says thoughtfully. “Best to just go.”

The theatre is already dark, the advertisements rolling. It’s hard to pick out individuals, but Semi thinks that he might have seen someone with Iwaizumi’s spiky haircut on the left upper side of the hall. He points this out to the others only when they’re seated, and the way the duo immediately spin back to check makes him groan. “You two are so not subtle.”

“Shut up, Semi-chan,” Oikawa mutters distractedly. “I don’t see anything.”

“It’s dark, my eyes may be playing tricks on me.”

“So helpful.” Oikawa turns back around, folding his arms and levelling a haughty stare at him. “Why are you here, again?”

“Not for the furthering of your agenda, that’s for sure.”

“Shh,” Suga hisses. “Even if we can’t find them, we can watch the movie. Sometimes the best part happens after movies.”

“He’s right,” Oikawa says. “Iwa-chan’s not the sort to do anything during a movie, he likes watching them too much. He won’t even let me comment during the showing!”

“I can see why,” Semi mutters. Oikawa makes no comment, and the ash blond hopes that it’s just because he didn’t hear him.

The movie is not bad, though it would have been a lot better without Oikawa’s excited murmuring. Semi can hardly focus on the dialogue with the running commentary beside him, and resolves to find the movie online at another time to rewatch.

Then the credits roll, Suga reaches over to tap his hand, and he suddenly remembers why they were all there.

The glow of the theatre screen is enough for him to make out Suga's gestured message: stay until the lights go up, and wait for Iwaizumi and Shirabu to leave before following them.

It sounds easy enough, and Semi leans back, eyes tracking the people streaming out, trying to pick out any silhouettes that look familiar.

He sees nothing of interest – there are individuals and families and the occasional couple, but he does not spot the two young men they are looking for leaving the movie theatre.

“Maybe they’re waiting for the after-credits,” Suga murmurs. “Everyone knows to wait for those.”

Oikawa snorts, motioning to those already leaving. “Not everyone, apparently.”

“Amateurs.”

“Precisely. Now, brilliant as I am, I have never missed an after-credit scene.”

“And yet, you can babble loud enough for the entire cinema to pinpoint your location.”

The trio spin round at the voice, eyes landing on a nonplussed Iwaizumi, Shirabu sitting impassively beside him. Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows at his best friend’s companions. “Oh, Sugawara, Semi. Nice to see you.”

Semi manages to croak out a Hello, and Suga greets them sunnily. Iwaizumi nods to each of them in greeting before his gaze returns to Oikawa. “Oikawa, how did you manage to get them mixed up in your nefarious deeds?”

“I didn’t,” the brunet protests. “It was all– Mmprgh!”

Suga’s smile never wavers though one of his hands is clamped firmly over Oikawa’s mouth. “We were in the area, and a movie sounded like a great idea. We had no idea Tooru-chan was doing something evil.”

A snort draws their eyes to Shirabu. “Pardon me, Sugawara-san, but you’ll have to try harder than that to convince me.”

“Oh?”

Shirabu nods in Semi’s direction. “You brought Semi-san. That’s plenty suspicious.”

“I’m not a terrorist, brat. There’s nothing suspicious about this.”

“Anything you do is suspicious.”

“Excuse me,” Semi protests. He can hear Oikawa cackling beside him, and vaguely wonders when he removed the gag that was Suga’s hand. “I was just watching a movie with friends.”

“We're hardly friends, Semi-chan.” Oikawa reminds.

“Right. A friend and an annoying acquaintance.” Oikawa lets out a squawk at the description, and Suga laughs. Iwaizumi seems to be smiling.

“I don’t believe you.” Shirabu folds his arms, and Semi can hardly suppress his eye roll.

“Believe whatever you like. I have no cause to follow you.”

Shirabu pauses, head cocked as he turns over Semi’s words in his head. “Really…? Hmm. But no one said anything about being followed, Semi-san.”

Semi presses his lips together tightly, refusing to say anything more. His guilty conscience doesn’t know what else he could say that wouldn’t sound incriminating.

“Hold the thought,” Oikawa interrupts, twisting back to face the screen. “After-credit scene.”

All five of them watch the scene in agreed-upon silence, Oikawa grabbing Suga to gush after it ends. Suga nods along but pushes him away. Oikawa is unperturbed, turning around to talk to Iwaizumi instead.

“Iwa-chan! Did you see that? Do you know what it means? I can’t wait for the next part of the series!”

“That’s another half-year to wait.”

“I know!” Oikawa wilts, slumping on Suga's shoulder. “The tragedy.”

Shirabu rolls his eyes, and Semi privately agrees. Oikawa is entirely too dramatic.

“Were you guys sitting behind us this entire time?”

The words come completely out of the blue, and Oikawa and Semi turn to stare at an unapologetic Suga, who doesn’t seem to care that they are facing down a dragon.

Iwaizumi snorts. “No, we came down during the credits. We had way better seats than you guys.” He jerks a thumb backwards, in the direction of the higher seats, but his raised eyebrows hold a question.

“It’s not my fault that all the good seats were taken!” Oikawa complains.

“Yet now all of us have sore necks thanks to you,” Semi says drily.

“You wanted to come along, you dug your own grave.” Oikawa’s smile is saccharine, and Semi has to wonder what it is that Suga sees in him. Aoba Jousai's ex-captain is even more aggravating than Shirabu.

“Yes, about that. Why did you guys follow us?” The Aggravating Underclassman’s expression is carefully blank.

“Now, now, Shirabu-kun, let’s not go making false accusations, shall we?” Suga is still cheerfully optimistic. “Maybe we just wanted to watch this movie.”

“Maybe?”

“Whatever it is, it’s done now.” Iwaizumi raises his arms in a stretch, then slumps against the seat. “Do you guys want to get dinner?”

Everyone turns to stare at him, and he shrugs. “There wasn’t any real damage done, as far as I’m concerned. Just Oikawa being his usual, nosy self.”

“Iwa-chan!” The brunet sounds scandalised. “I have only the purest of intentions for your well-being!”

“I’m twenty, I don’t need your false worrying.”

“False–!”

“So,” Iwaizumi claps his hands together over Oikawa’s complaints and looks around at the others. “Dinner?”

-----

“A bit ironic to be eating fast food, don’t you think?”

“Not really. We’re poor college students, and there are always seats in a fast food joint.”

“Hmm.”

Through some unfortunate luck in drawing lots, Semi has been elected to purchase their food alongside Iwaizumi. It shouldn’t have been awkward, but given his newfound knowledge, plus the tension that had never really dissolved from their high school days… Well, maybe he was mistaken. It was definitely awkward.

Semi turns around at the sound of Suga’s laugh, and Oikawa’s complaints that follow. Shirabu is sitting stonily between them, looking as though he wants to be anywhere but there.

“Semi.”

“Yes?” He turns back to Iwaizumi, who is wearing a curious look on his face.

“I know you’re the most honest of the three of you–” He jerks a thumb towards their friends, “So I’d like to ask: Was Oikawa up to no good?”

Semi pretends to study the menu, dragging out the moment. He sighs after a second, the words bubbling out. “Truthfully, I’m not sure. I only heard Koushi’s side of the conversation, and all I can guess is that Oikawa was curious about who you were meeting up with, so he followed you.”

“I see.” Iwaizumi looks thoughtful. “You say you only heard Sugawara’s side of the conversation?”

Semi figures that nothing worse can happen even if he tells him. “Koushi called Oikawa to ask something, but one thing led to another and suddenly we were going to watch a movie. I’m not too sure how that happened.”

Iwaizumi shakes his head. “Oikawa and Sugawara are masterminds together. I’m not surprised you got dragged into it, or that you’re not sure how it happened. It’s happened to me before.”

“Really?” Semi’s surprised. Iwaizumi doesn’t seem like the sort to be taken in by anyone’s deceit.

“It was the first time I met Sugawara outside of the court. Not an incident I’m particularly happy to recall.” Iwaizumi frowns at their friends, and as if sensing they are talking about him, Oikawa turns around and flashes his signature grin. In response, Iwaizumi turns away without acknowledging him, and Oikawa looks so affronted that Semi laughs.

“I’ve never seen Oikawa look so offended.”

Iwaizumi snorts. “Spend more time with him and Sugawara together. Every other thing Sugawara says offends him.”

“Maybe his words hit a little too close to home.”

“Maybe. Their conversations sound mostly like shit talk to me.”

“Birds of a feather flock together, isn’t that what they say?”

“Oh yes. That’s probably it. No wonder they get along so well.”

It is their turn, and their conversation halts while they place their order and move aside to wait as it is prepared. Iwaizumi drums his fingers on the countertop, and Semi waits, feeling as though he knows what question he’s going to be asked. “Why did you follow Sugawara, once you realised what he was up to?”

Semi glances back at their friends, who are now throwing verbal insults at each other. Iwaizumi follows his eyes, and snorts a little. “Oh. Were you following Shirabu-kun?”

Semi’s a bit surprised at the suffix, but doesn’t comment, storing away that information for later. “I guess so. I have no reason to follow you, but I admit I was a bit curious about Shirabu being your companion.”

“Curious?”

“He never told anyone in our circle of friends that he knew you, so everyone jumped to conclusions about who he’s been going out with.”

“Going ou–? Oh.” A baffled look takes over Iwaizumi’s face, but he doesn’t get to comment, as their food arrives. They take a tray each and walk back to the table, steps slow to ensure nothing gets spilled.

“Semi.” Iwaizumi doesn’t look up from his path, though his words keep flowing. “You and your friends can rest assured that nothing is going on between us. We’re just friends.”

Semi snorts. “Even if you weren’t just friends, you would tell me that. But it’s your private business. There’s no need for you to tell anyone about it unless you want to.”

“Thank you. That is something that Oikawa and Sugawara wouldn’t understand.”

“We can agree on that.”

Their arrival at the table is accompanied by loud rejoicing from Oikawa, with a slightly more subdued reaction from Suga. Shirabu nods his thanks as Semi passes his meal to him though he wrinkles his nose a little, and the ash blond responds by giving him a deadpan stare.

“You two remind me of someone,” Oikawa announces suddenly, pointing at them. “What’s with this silent communication, huh?”

“You just said it, pretty boy. Silent communication. You and Iwaizumi do that too.” Suga throws a fry at him, and Oikawa pops it into his mouth with a grin.

“Aha, but Iwa-chan and I grew up together. These two haven’t. I wonder why they do that.” Oikawa wiggles his eyebrows at them, and Shirabu pins him with an unimpressed look.

“I live with Semi-san. At this point, he’s like the irritating older sibling I never wanted. Seeing him even more, in my own free time no less, is a horrific experience.”

“Watch your tongue,” Semi warns, mimicking Suga’s action and launching a fry at his roommate. “I’ll put bleach in your shampoo.”

“Save it for yourself, Semi-san. Your roots are showing.”

Suga and Oikawa burst into laughter while Semi throws more fries at Shirabu, and even Iwaizumi cracks a smile behind his burger.

Dinner passes by almost too quickly – insinuating comments and jibes thrown by Oikawa and Suga are countered either by Semi and Iwaizumi’s remarks or by Shirabu’s sharp quips. It’s almost fun, and Semi can feel himself relaxing as the evening wears on.

It’s been a while since he had this sort of easy camaraderie, especially with people his age. It’s nice.

They stay on mostly neutral topics – classes and friend groups and of course, volleyball. Semi finally learns that Oikawa and Iwaizumi go to a university pretty close to his and Shirabu’s, and they agree to ask for a practice match between campuses at some point. Their high school rivalry never did resolve, and it would be fun to settle scores now that they are in university.

“It wouldn’t be very fair to the other players, since they don’t know about the never ending feud between Seijou and Shiratorizawa.” Suga comments. “Everyone would wonder what the fuss is about.”

“It also wouldn’t be fair because we don’t have Ushijima-san any more,” Shirabu grumbles. “Semi-san is a setter, not a spiker.”

“Who said you’re going to be the setter?” Semi counters. “You can spike for once.”

“My spiking sucks!”

“Then work on it. Futakuchi can help you.”

“Ew, Futakuchi.” Shirabu wrinkles his nose, and everyone laughs.

“We still have Makki and Mattsun, so we have the advantage,” Oikawa crows. “See if your ragtag team can beat us now!”

“Do you think we can borrow Kuroo and Bokuto for this?” Semi mutters to Shirabu.

“Maybe, if they have free time.”

“I'll ask Kenma to ask.”

“You guys are cheating,” Suga quips, delighted. “Those two aren’t even from your university.”

“Koushi, shh.”

“Iwa-chan, stop them!”

“Hey, I can’t control this, don’t drag me into it.”

Their conversation derails from there. Semi and Shirabu spend so much time arguing between topics that Oikawa and Iwaizumi finally find out that not only do they attend the same university, they share a room. Oikawa pokes fun at Semi for needing to share a room – with his least favourite underclassman no less – and is promptly put in his place by both Iwaizumi and Suga when they reveal that he is sharing an apartment with three other people.

“An apartment is nothing compared to a room,” Semi argues. “You still have the advantage of more space. And privacy.”

“But Makki hogs the toilet all the time. Mattsun is always cooking and the whole apartment never stops smelling like baked goods. I swear, I never feel like eating cookies anymore!”

The brunet turns to Iwaizumi, who sips at his drink, never breaking eye contact. “And Iwa-chan thinks he’s my mum, as usual.”

“Someone has to make sure we get our deposit back.” Iwaizumi shrugs, then glances at the rest of them. “Do you know how much hair he leaves in the bathroom drain every day? It’s like living with a girl, I had no idea he had so much hair.”

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa squawks. “I am perfect! I do no such thing!”

“Oh, I know,” Suga nods, completely ignoring Oikawa. “The one time he stayed over at my house, my sister got scolded for the hair that he left in our bathroom drain.”

“How irresponsible of you, Oikawa-san. How could you let someone else take the fault for your bad manners?” Shirabu deadpans.

Oikawa launches into a tirade, cursing them and their false accusations, but everyone sees the half-smile on his face, and no one thinks he means it. Semi thinks his face is going to split from so much laughing, but he doesn’t mind. He can’t remember the last time he felt so carefree.

It’s not until later, when they’ve split into groups as they walk to the train station, that the conversation dies down. Where it was a raging river before, the straits have calmed, the rapids settling, trickling into smaller streams with gentler currents. Their pace is leisurely, comfortable, and it feels like the excitement of the day has finally caught up to them, lethargy weighing them down alongside the heaviness of their meal.

Oikawa’s not surging ahead for once, having chosen to hang back with Shirabu. The other three walk ahead, discussing something or the other.

Shirabu eyes the older boy a little suspiciously. It is not like him to be this quiet and contemplative, despite the excitement of their evening. Even during the days that their schools were rivals, he only remembers the other as this contemplative right before he launched an unexpected attack–

Oh, no.

“Shirabu-chan,” Oikawa quietly begins, eyes fixed on the distant figures of their friends, “What are your intentions with Iwa-chan?”

Shirabu refuses to let his emotions show. The change of topic is abrupt, but he can’t say it was completely unexpected. He had been expecting someone to ask, at some point. “With all due respect, Oikawa-san, that’s none of your business.”

“It isn’t,” Oikawa agrees. “But as someone who had been in love with Iwa-chan before, I want to give you a bit of advice.”

Shirabu is too stunned to say anything, too taken aback by his candour and the easiness with which he speaks of such a topic. The lack of a response encourages Oikawa to continue. “Don’t get your hopes up, is what I want to say. Iwa-chan’s a great guy, but he sees most people as nothing more than friends. You’re going to be waiting a long time if you want him to consider you at all, and I think your affections are better spent elsewhere.”

“Oikawa-san,” Shirabu says slowly, “Thank you for your words, but what makes you think that I fancy Iwaizumi-san?”

Oikawa rolls his eyes, not unkindly. “Like I said, I was there once. That face you have around him is the same one that Makki and Mattsun told me I used to make whenever I spoke to Iwa-chan, and he’s my childhood friend. Lovestruck.” He shakes his head, chuckling. “Maybe I’m wrong – I don’t think I am – but if you want to pursue him in that manner and you get rejected, just remember it’s not the end of the world.”

“Oikawa-san, I have had crushes before. I know what life after rejection feels like.”

The older grins slyly at him. “So you admit you like him?”

“I never said that. I just said I know what rejection feels like.”

“Mmhmm.” Oikawa smirks knowingly. “Of course you do. But again, a crush is a crush, and love is something more, don’t you think?”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“Love is a lot easier than a crush,” Oikawa tells him. “No jittery feelings, just a blossoming warmth. It took me a long time to realise that, myself. But you know what? You’ll get there when you get there.”

“Yes.” Shirabu deadpans. “Thank you for your sagely advice.”

“You’re very welcome.” Oikawa winks and skips ahead. “Come on. I think they’ve found dessert!”

Their friends have indeed found an uncrowded ice cream shop, and they file inside, swarming the display. Shirabu's on the edge of their group, trying to peer at the flavours. He’s not short, but it’s difficult to see with the others blocking his view.

“What are you getting?”

He glances up at Iwaizumi, then turns back to frown at the glass. “I don’t know. Lychee looks interesting, but vanilla is always a safer choice.”

“Why don’t you ask for a sample, then? No point getting something that you wouldn’t like.”

“Good point.” He tries to catch the attention of the server, but Iwaizumi beats him to it. He takes the two spoons from the server with thanks, handing a spoon to Shirabu. “Here.”

“Thank you.” He bites off half the ice cream, artificial flavour exploding across his tongue. He wrinkles his nose, and Iwaizumi laughs around his own spoon.

“Not good?”

“Too sweet.” He eats the rest of the sample anyway, chewing sullenly on the plastic. “What was yours?”

“Blueberry. It’s good.”

“Hmm. Maybe I’ll try that.”

“I’ll ask for you.” Iwaizumi turns back to the server, while Shirabu reaches up to put the spoon in the bin provided.

There’s a nudge on his shoulder, and he turns, only to startle at the sight of a spoon in front of his face. Semi smirks, but shoves the spoon towards him. “You’ll like this one.”

Shirabu stares at the spoon and the teeth marks in the ice cream. “Did you already eat half of it?”

“Yeah, but I don’t like it and I think you would, so you eat it.”

“I am not your dustbin,” Shirabu complains, but closes his lips around the spoon. Semi lets it go, and Shirabu frowns at him around the burst of flavour. “Hey, this is nice.”

“It’s sea salt with something or the other. Told you you’d like it.”

Shirabu grumbles at him and puts the spoon in the bin, accepting the new sample spoon from Iwaizumi. He thinks he hears Semi go back over to where Suga is calling him as he mulls over the new flavour.

“How is it?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Not bad. Maybe I’ll get this one and the other sea salt thing.”

“You must like ice cream a lot.”

“I don’t get to have it often, Iwaizumi-san. Stop judging my diet.” Shirabu huffs.

(The other doesn’t need to know how much he loves the sweet treat.)

Iwaizumi laughs. “No judgement. I watch Oikawa eat too much milk bread daily, it’s just second nature to watch out for others’ sugar intake.”

“Once in a while is fine,” Shirabu insists.

“Yes, that’s true. But how do I know that this is your first time in a while?”

Shirabu’s about to protest when he sees Iwaizumi’s lips twitch. “You’re teasing me.”

“Absolutely not,” the older says, but he’s grinning. Shirabu holds back his initial response, rolling his eyes instead.

After sampling almost all the flavours, everyone decides on what they want. Suga and Shirabu are elected to buy the ice cream while the others go get a seat.

The wait isn’t long, but as they watch the girl prepare their dessert, Suga asks, “Was Tooru-chan lecturing you about Iwaizumi?”

Shirabu stares at him. He had just pushed that conversation to the back of his mind, and here it was being brought up again.

(He should have expected it, but at the same time, he had been hoping that it wouldn’t be brought back up.)

Suga laughs at his expression. “No, we didn’t plan this, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just happen to know how he works, and what he would have spoken to you about. He probably told you not to get your hopes up, right?”

“If you know,” Shirabu starts, “Then why would you ask about it?”

“Because I’m curious,” Suga says simply. “And because I’m as nosy as he is. Now, I haven’t faced rejection the way Tooru-chan has, so my advice is to not listen to him. Take your own feelings into account. He worries for others because he’s a little more fragile and he took that rejection badly. You, I think, are more resilient.” The silver-haired man hands him some of the ice cream cups and picks up the remainder, tilting his head towards their table with a small smile. “Think on it. But for now, shall we?”

Shirabu follows him silently, turning over the words of both young men in his mind. It’s too much for an evening, especially when he had been expecting a quiet afternoon out. He’s getting tired of all the people lecturing him on things he does not want their advice on. He’s quiet as he picks at his ice cream, and only looks up when he feels something nudge his foot.

Semi raises his eyebrows at him, his eyes holding a question, but Shirabu shakes his head. It’s nothing.

The ash blond raises an eyebrow to convey his disbelief, to which Shirabu rolls his eyes. Don’t worry about me.

Semi shrugs and turns back to the conversation that the others are having, allowing Shirabu to push those thoughts aside and focus on the present.

He has plenty of time later to worry about their advice. For now, he is going to enjoy the company of those he is with.

-----

They say their goodbyes at the station, parting to return to their respective accommodations. Shirabu is still rather quiet, but Semi chooses to say nothing. He had seen Oikawa and Suga speaking to him earlier, and figures he doesn’t need any more 'advice'.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

He turns to look at Shirabu, whose eyes are closed as he rests his head against the back of the seat. Semi sighs. “No. Should I be saying anything?”

“I figured you might want to add your two cents' worth, since Oikawa-san and Sugawara-san have already done so.”

Semi snorts. “Who am I to give you advice on your love life? Do what you like.”

One eye opens to regard him. “Hmm.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I don’t trust you on that, but I never trust you.” His eye closes, but Semi does not sense any ill intent coming from him.

“What do you mean, you don’t trust me?” Semi protests, half-jokingly.

“I mean, maybe you let something like that slip again…” Shirabu opens his eyes, staring at him unapologetically. “I can’t think of any other reason why Oikawa-san and Sugawara-san would be so open about giving me 'advice’ like that.”

Semi blinks at him, first in confusion, then in anger. “Is that what you’re worried about? Why they decided to give you advice?”

“It is a cause for concern–”

“And you really think that I would do that again? I said I wouldn’t, and I haven’t. Have you stopped to consider that they don’t mind talking about it because they don’t care about the gender of your partner? I get why you’d suspect I told them, but I swear I didn’t.”

“Why wouldn’t they care? It’s not a normal thing, is it?”

“I’m– What– No– Ugh.” Semi presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, groaning. “Why are you saying that?”

“Because it’s true.”

“Are you saying that whatever you or I feel for others is unnatural, then? That anyone else who is like us – who doesn’t fit society's norm – is not normal?”

“To them it is. To us, it’s perfectly fine.”

“Exactly.” Semi points at Shirabu accusingly. “So why are you so hung up on why Oikawa and Koushi decided to talk to you about it?”

“Well, I’m sorry that I don’t know if they are like us or not.” Shirabu snaps. “Is it a crime now to be on my guard?”

“No, but–”

“Let me deal with my life my own way,” Shirabu says viciously. “I was shocked that they could discuss something so openly, considering how most everyone isn’t so accepting. You can’t exactly look at someone and tell if they’re going to accept or condemn you, now, can you?”

Semi bites his words back, knowing he’s right. “No, but I can tell you that Koushi and Oikawa aren’t the sort to condemn you for that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Semi chooses to ignore the sarcastic bite in Shirabu’s tone. “They – Koushi, at least – is very accepting and open. He wouldn’t judge you for your preferences. I don’t think Oikawa is the sort either. He’s an asshole but not a hypocrite.”

“Hypocrite?” Shirabu looks like he’s beginning to understand, but Semi decides to spell it out for him, just in case.

“Neither of them can judge you when they’re both dating men.”

The silence stretches as Shirabu stares at him. Finally, he says, “Are you sure you are allowed to tell me that?”

“They’re not subtle about it, they wouldn’t mind.” Semi says. “Iwaizumi and Koushi were the ones who told me who Oikawa is dating, so I can guess that he doesn’t care that others know who his partner is. Koushi enjoys flaunting his relationship, so he definitely won’t care that I told you.”

“Okay.” Shirabu’s expression is back to neutral. “And what am I supposed to do with this information?”

“Accept that they didn’t mean any harm by giving you advice.” Semi grits out. “Of course, whether or not it’s useful advice remains to be seen, considering both their natures.”

Shirabu snorts, rolling his eyes. “I know. It was sort of useful, I think.”

“…if you think so.”

They sit in awkward silence for some minutes, neither knowing what to say.

“You're really not going to bother me about it, then?”

Semi glances over, but Shirabu’s not looking at him, his gaze trained on the wall opposite them. He sighs. “No. You don’t need advice on what to do with your life. If you want to date Iwaizumi, go ahead. There is literally no reason that you need to tell me about your love life.”

“I never said I wanted to date Iwaizumi-san.”

“I said if,” Semi points out. “You’re practically admitting it, now.”

“I am not.”

“Are too. But like I said, it’s not my business. Whether you do or don’t date him, you don’t have to tell me.”

“…you don’t care?”

“Shirabu, exactly what don’t you understand about 'It's your life, do what you want’?”

“I didn’t think you’d be that approving of my dating someone. If I was hypothetically dating someone.”

“I’m not your keeper!” Semi throws his hands up in exasperation. “Or your parent! Do whatever the heck you want! As long as you let me know when not to come back to the room and interrupt you or something, I don’t particularly care–”

“Don’t insinuate things, oh my god–”

“You want to date him, it’s bound to happen at some point–”

“Shut up, I never said that, and I’m nowhere near even confessing–”

“You just admitted you wanted to confess, so you like him, at least–”

“Shut up, shut up, I don’t know how to do this, okay–”

“You’re not stupid, just try harder, damnit–”

“You sound like Taichi, shut up–”

“Make me–”

The announcer’s voice comes on, interrupting their argument, and the train slows. Semi claps a hand over Shirabu’s mouth, cutting him off. “Argue later, it’s our stop.”

Shirabu slaps his hand away and follows him sullenly, hands in his pockets. The train station is quiet, though the streets back to the university are generously lit, the lights welcoming as they lead the way. There aren’t many people about because of the hour, and their pace is slow, unhurried.

There’s a sort of peace that surrounds them, tranquillity seeping through their skin, permeating their bones. It’s as if the serenity of the late hour is replacing the tension and weight of any other emotion, allowing them a space, a clear pool untouched by wandering thoughts. Shirabu basks in the rare bubble of tranquillity, feeling the last of the agitation from earlier slip off his shoulders.

His head tilts back, eyes lazily tracing the skyline, searching for stars that are unseen. It makes him smile a little, at the futility of his action. It’s been so long, and of course he knows that the stars are obscured, but he still can’t help looking. It reminds him of another time, almost too long ago – almost a year ago now.

(How time flies.)

“Semi-san.”

“Yeah?”

“Remember when we first met in Tokyo?”

“You mean how we first found out we had to live together?”

“Oh, yes. The horror.” Shirabu sounds so sarcastic that Semi has to crack a smile. “But I was thinking of the time after that, when we went out to find ice cream and yet never did.”

“We– Oh. Yeah, we did, didn’t we?” Semi tilts his head back; his turn now, at searching for lights in the starless sky. “We’ve had ice cream lots of times after that, though.”

“Yeah.” Shirabu is quiet as he thinks. “A lot of times.”

“Enough times that I know you never try any new flavours,” Semi teases. “I was actually surprised that you got flavoured ice cream today.”

“I like trying new things once in a while, geez.” Shirabu kicks at his heel, trying to trip him.

(He doesn’t succeed.)

“No, you don’t.”

“Shut up and let me do what I want.” Shirabu grumbles, and Semi laughs.

“You’ll always do whatever you want, regardless of what I say.”

“You’ve got a point.”

They shuffle along in companionable silence, growing closer and closer to the school, passing by familiar neighbourhoods to reach their destination. There’s a tug on his sleeve and Semi looks down, but Shirabu isn’t looking back at him.

“What is it?”

“Are you going to tell Kenma and Futakuchi?”

“About what?” He thinks he knows what.

Shirabu makes an annoyed sound. “What you saw today.”

“No?” Semi’s puzzled. “Why would I?”

“Because they’re dying to know who my 'mysterious friend' is? Don’t deny it, I know they’ve asked you about it.”

“Again: why would I do that?” Semi is perplexed. “Just because they’re being nosy doesn’t mean I have to indulge them.”

“But you were curious too.”

“So sue me for wondering if you were in bad company all the times that you went out and came home so late.” Semi throws his hands up in exasperation. He seems to be doing that a lot, lately. “It’s your life. I just want to know that I won’t have to wake up to an empty room and the cops at the door because you went missing!”

Shirabu stares at him for a second, then lets out a snort. “You are so dramatic.”

“I’m worried!”

“Yeah, yeah.” His steps slow as he turns to face Semi. “Were you following us on purpose?”

“You never give up, do you?” Semi groans, raising a hand instinctively to block the punch Shirabu throws. “No, not at first.”

“Not at first?”

“Stop being so dramatic, geez. I was just telling Koushi the usual gossip he wanted to hear and the next thing I know, he’s called Oikawa and all the pieces have fallen into place like some miracle and we’re in the movie theatre.” Semi rolls his eyes. “I had no intention of following you, but Koushi dragged me into it.”

“Oh.” That shuts him up for a bit. “Sugawara-san is a lot sneakier than I gave him credit for.”

Semi laughs. “Oh, you have no idea. You should have heard the story of how he tricked Sawamura into confessing first. That was hilarious.”

“Sugawara-san did– What?”

Semi laughs harder at Shirabu’s stunned expression. “Koushi never lets Sawamura live it down. The story goes that Sawamura was stuttering and delaying it, and Koushi egged him on until he was half-dead with embarrassment.”

“…remind me never to get on Sugawara-san's bad side. Poor Sawamura-san.”

“Well, they’re very happy together, so I wouldn’t say that,” Semi hums. “I think Sawamura came to Tokyo with Koushi, so you can go witness their lovey-dovey stuff for yourself.”

“You want me to be a third wheel? No thanks.”

“Ask Iwaizumi to go with you.”

Shirabu makes a sound like a dying duck. “Then it’s going to look like a double date. No. No, no, no, I am not doing this–”

“For goodness’ sake, you like the guy, just ask him out!”

“It’s complicated!”

“Then uncomplicate it!”

“How!”

“I don’t know!”

They’re standing in the middle of the sidewalk, yelling at each other, and it suddenly occurs to Semi that they are too close to the residential areas to be making a racket, especially this late at night. His gaze darts about, and seeing no one, shushes Shirabu every time he tries to speak, dragging him along.

“We are trying not to be more of a public nuisance,” he hisses to the struggling brunet. “We probably woke up half the blocks with our yelling.”

“You started it,” Shirabu mumbles.

“No, you did.”

“No, it was you. Stop coming up with embarrassing ideas and I won’t have to yell!”

Semi shushes him again. “And if I don’t give you ideas, you’re never going to confess to him!”

“You’re not exactly the poster child for successful relationships, you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Semi winces, the memory of a certain redhead and another, broader figure coming to mind. “I know what not to do, which is why I’m telling you what you should do.”

“I will muddle my way through my own relationship mess, thank you very much. You and Taichi can keep your noses out of it.”

“I’m helping you here,” Semi says, exasperated. At this point, exasperation is going to be the only emotion he associates with Shirabu. “Ask Iwaizumi to show Koushi and Sawamura around Tokyo on my behalf because I’m busy or something. Only Koushi and you will ever know it’s a double date.”

“…you are more evil than I gave you credit for, Semi-san.”

“Blame Koushi. He’s rubbing off on me.”

They walk the rest of the way back to the dorms in silence. The quiet surrounding them is broken only by the sound of traffic, the scuffle of their shoes on the pavement, the slight whisper of the wind as it passes them by. Each is lost in his own thoughts, but soon they unite in action – pulling at the fabric that clings to their skin, shifting uncomfortably under the straps of their bags.

It is summer, and it is too hot to be in a city, where the lights add to the heat and the buildings never release their stored thermal energy fast enough. But somewhere in the midst of the cloying heat that melts brains, the duo seem to have come to a silent consensus, a remembrance of their truce – the shadow of a memory from times long past.

They trek back to their room, movements almost in sync, and it feels like they’ve found their own little glade of serenity – individualistic yet slightly interdependent. Slightly compromising, that they may coexist.

The night is warm, but they don’t want to turn on the air conditioning. They make do with the fan in their room, shuffling around until they sit comfortably before it, the wind rustling their shower-damp hair.

“Is it warm enough that we can sleep on the floor?” Shirabu asks, eyes closed in the face of the fan.

“We’re gonna catch colds.” Semi counters, but he is considering it.

“Just for one night. We can use the blankets to prevent a chill. Unless it gets too hot, then all bets are off.”

“Well…”

Shirabu leans over and stretches up to his bed, pulling his pillow and blanket down. The pillow is tossed near the fan, and he uses the blanket to cover the floor, much to Semi’s horror.

“The floor is dirty. You’re going to get sick.”

“I’ll do the laundry tomorrow. Do you want to sleep here or not?”

Semi groans quietly, but does not answer. He leans over to his bed and pulls his blanket off as well, making up his own nest on the floor.

It’s way too cramped on the floor for two young men, and they are almost elbow to elbow when they lie down, the fan oscillating, stirring currents above their heads. The lights from outside peek through the gaps in their blinds, playing out across the ceiling. Below the lights, wandering across the short expanse of flattened blankets, fingers shove against each other, pushing back and forth in a lazy war for dominance over the seam where their blankets meet.

One hand draws away first – there’s the sound of rustling fabric, and Semi turns his head to see that Shirabu has rolled over, resting now with his head on his folded hands.

“Semi-san?”

“Hm?”

“Maybe… Maybe we could go on that outing with Sawamura-san and Sugawara-san?”

“‘We’?”

Shirabu makes the dying duck sound. “I can’t ask Iwaizumi-san. Not yet. But I’d like to see Sawamura-san and Sugawara-san's relationship for myself, and since you’re friends with them…”

“I’m mostly friends with Koushi.”

“Still.” Shirabu makes a disgruntled sound. “Please?”

“Only if you do something for me.”

“What?”

“If Koushi tries to insinuate it’s a double date, you’ll help me push him into a fountain or something.”

Shirabu makes another dying duck sound. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes, I’ll help you with that, no problem. Heaven forbid someone assumes that I’m dating you.”

Semi laughs. “Likewise. I’ll message Koushi tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Then there’s nothing but the sound of their breathing, but the sound of the fan and its whirring. It’s still warm, but not uncomfortably so, and Semi can feel himself drifting.

He doesn’t really register it when Shirabu calls him next, too lost in the realm of half-sleep. He doesn’t really register the soft touch on his arm, thinking it to be part of a dream. He doesn’t really register the extra warmth at his side nor the shuffling that comes with it, because he is almost completely asleep.

He sleeps on. It’s only later – in the middle of the night, when he’s suddenly a tad too warm – does he realise that the burning warmth in his arms, draped across his side – it smells hauntingly familiar; and the puffs of air on his neck – they may not be the fan, after all.

And maybe he’s a little confused, because even in the space between dreams and reality, he knows, he remembers their conversation, and he knows where the affections of his roommate lie.

But he doesn’t let go, though he scoots away a little so that they might cool down. He doesn’t let go, not though he has one arm draped over the shoulders of this figure that he knows well, not though the fingers connected to that hand and arm are cupping a head, the strands of hair soft and pleasing under his fingertips. He doesn’t let go, but leans in – though he’s still half-asleep, still tangled in the tendrils of a dream – pressing his lips to the curve of skin covered by strands of wayward fringe. He thinks, at least, that this might be Shirabu’s forehead.

And as he inhales the scent of camellia and lye, his lips curve up into a smile. A guilty smile, a secret smile; a smile no one but himself and the night know about.

He drifts, and falls back to sleep.

#semishira #semi eita #shirabu kenjirou #kawanishi taichi #sugawara koushi #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #cygnus #my writing

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