#seduction of motomiya daisuke

[ladyanatui]

Is it still thanksgiving cuz i just started reading your fic (the seduction of motomiya daisuke) and honestly god bless you 😂 (its 11:40 pm on a school night but i have no self control)

Squee! Thank you! I’m so glad you like it. 💙💚💙

But I’m pretty sure you have to go to class in the morning. lol

[ao3feed-mythology]

Like You Mean It

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2TENrKr

by Darkrealmist

A private ritual between Hikari Netto and Hikawa Tohru grows into something neither of them expected.

Words: 917, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Rockman.EXE | Mega Man Battle Network, Rockman | Mega Man - All Media Types, Japanese Mythology, Hindu Religions & Lore, Greek and Roman Mythology, Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02, Digimon - All Media Types

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Underage

Categories: M/M

Characters: Hikari Netto | Lan Hikari, Hikawa Tohru | Tory Froid, Laika | Raika (Rockman.EXE), Maha Jarama | Yahoot, Rockman.EXE | MegaMan.EXE, Iceman.EXE, Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya, Takaishi Takeru | T.K. Takaishi, Wallace | Willis, Bubbleman.EXE

Relationships: Hikari Netto | Lan Hikari/Hikawa Tohru | Tory Froid

Additional Tags: Acceptance, Accidents, Adult Content, Affection, Aged-Up Character(s), Ambushes and Sneak Attacks, Anger, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anime, Apologies, Arguing, Asian Character(s), Awkward Boners, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkward Tension, Bargaining, Battle, Bedrooms, Bedroom Sex, Beds, Beginnings, Belonging, Best Friends, Beverages, Bickering, Bi-Curiosity, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Character of Color, Bisexual Male Character, Blackouts, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Blushing, Body Worship, Bonding, Boners, Boundaries, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Boys' Love, Breasts, Budding Love, Canon Character of Color, Card Games, Changing Tenses, Character(s) of Color, Childhood Friends, Child Soldiers, Clothed Sex, Clothing Kink, Coats, Coercion, Coffee, Come as Lube, Comedy, Come Eating, Comeplay, Come Sharing, Come Shot, Come Swallowing, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Coming of Age, Coming Out, Communication, Compare and Contrast, Competency, Competition, Complete, Computers, Confessions, Consensual, Consensual Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Courage, Cross-cultural, Cruelty, Crushes, Crying, Cultural References, Curiosity, Curry, Cussing, Cute, Cute Ending, Cute Kids, Cybersex, Daydreaming, Declarations Of Love, Denial, Depression, Desire, Developing Relationship, Devotion, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Discipline, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Dorkiness, Double Entendre, Doubt, Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, Duelling, Eavesdropping, Education, Embarrassment, Emotional, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotions, Endearments, Episode Related, Erections, Erotica, Escapism, Euphemisms, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Exams, Exhaustion, Exhibitionism, Experimentation, Explanations, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Exploration, Exposure, Eye Contact, Eyes, Falling In Love, Fanfiction, Fanservice, Fantasizing, Fantasy, Fantasy Fulfillment, Fantasy Sex, Fear, Feeding, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Feels, Fever Dreams, Feral Behavior, Ficlet, Fights, Flashbacks, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Ending, Food, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Food Metaphors, Force-Feeding, Foreplay, Forgiveness, French Kissing, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Fuckbuddies, Fun, Funny, Games, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Gentle Kissing, Gentleness, Gluttony, Gods, Growing Up, Guilt, Guilty Pleasures, Hair, Happy, Happy Ending, Hardcore, Heartache, Hero Worship, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hinduism, Honesty, Hoodies, Hook-Up, Hope, Homework, Homoeroticism, Honey, Hormones, Horny Teenagers, Hot, Hot Sex, Humiliation, Humor, Humorous Ending, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Ice, Idols, Imagination, Inappropriate Behavior, Inappropriate Erections, Indian Character, In-Jokes, Innocence, Insecurity, Inspired by Art, Internal Monologue, Internet, Intimacy, Introversion, Invasion of Privacy, Japanese Character(s), Japanese Culture, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Joyful, Judgment, Kindness, Kissing, Laughter, Laughter During Sex, Laundry, Lemon, LGBTQ Character of Color, Licking, Lies, Loss of Control, Loss of Innocence, Love, Love Confessions, Love Stories, Loyalty, Lust, Making Love, Making Out, Making Up, Male Bonding, Male Character of Color, Male Protagonist, Male Slash, Manipulation, Masturbation, Mathematics, Meddling, Meta, Metaphors, Military, Military Science Fiction, Mind Games, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Character(s), Mischief, Misunderstandings, Multiple Orgasms, Muscles, Mutual Pining, Naughtiness, Naughty, Negotiations, Nervousness, Nipples, Nonverbal Communication, Nostalgia, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Nudity, Oblivious, One Shot, One True Pairing, Orgasm, OTP Feels, Pain, Parental Instinct, Partial Nudity, Past Underage, Past Underage Sex, Paternal Instinct, Penises, Penis Measuring, Personal Growth, Perversion, Photographs, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn Magazines, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Post-Canon, POV First Person, POV Male Character, Power Outage, Premarital Sex, Pride, Protectiveness, Psychological Warfare, Punishment, Puns & Word Play, Queer Youth, Questioning, Rare Characters, Rare Pairings, Realization, References to Canon, References to Depression, Regret, Relationship Discussions, Relationship Issues, Reminiscing, Retrospective, Rituals, Romance, Romantic Angst, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Sappy, Sarcasm, Scheming, School, Schoolboys, Science, Science Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Secret Admirer, Secret Crush, Secrets, Seduction, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem, Self-Esteem Issues, Sensuality, Sex, Sex Games, Sexism, Sex Talk, Sexual Coercion, Sexual Content, Sexual Experimentation, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Inexperience, Sexuality, Sexual Metaphors, Sexual Orientation, Sexual Tension, Sexy Times, Shame, Shameless Smut, Sharing, Shinto, Shock, Shoe Kink, Shoes, Short, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Shorts (Clothing), Shounen-ai, Showing Off, Shyness, Simultaneous Orgasm, Slash, Smut, Sneakiness, Sneaking Around, Snow, Snow and Ice, Soldiers, Some Humor, Sticky, Strategy & Tactics, Strip Tease, Study Date, Studying, Surprise Kissing, Surprises, Surprise Sex, Swearing, Sweat, Sweet, Teaching, Tears, Teasing, Technology, Teenage Drama, Teenagers, Teen Angst, Teen Crush, Teen Romance, Temptation, Third Wheels, Tongues, Touching, True Love, Tutoring, Uncircumcised Penis, Underage Masturbation, Underage Sex, Understanding, Underwear, Underwear Kink, Undressing, Unexpected Visitors, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Urban Fantasy, Virginity, Voyeurism, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Watching, Wet Clothing, Wish Fulfillment, Wordcount: 100-1.000, Wordcount: 500-1.000, Wordcount: Under 10.000, Worry, Young Love

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2TENrKr

[ladyanatui]

The Seduction of Motomiya Daisuke, Ch. 1 *A Daiken Fic*

Daisuke's friendship with Ken has always come easily. It's the lusting after your best friend part that's hard.

He just didn't realize how hard until Ken starts acting weird.

Now, Daisuke isn't sure how long he can handle his BFF and roommate's sudden attentions. At least, not without potentially ruining a 12-year friendship.

AO3 | FF.Net

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

KEN

Hikari frowns in the booth across from me. "Come on, Ken, it can't be that bad…can it?"

I almost laugh.

Because even she hesitates when she actually thinks about it.

Of course it's that bad.

Daisuke, my best friend for over a decade, my crush for just as long—perhaps longer—and my roommate since we graduated high school, taunts me.

Not literally.

Okay, well, it's Daisuke, so yes, literally. But not literally about this. That would require him to have the faintest idea about my crush.

God, I can hardly call it a crush anymore. It's been twelve years since we first met, and while it's safe to say my eleven-year-old self had a crush, that's hardly the appropriate word now that we're twenty-three.

But unintentional as it may be, he still taunts me.

He walks around the apartment in his boxers without a care in the world. He has no problem changing clothes or even taking a shower with the door only partway shut. To be fair, we only have the one bathroom, and he takes ridiculously long showers right when I need to get ready for work, so leaving the door cracked makes sense. But he leaves the door cracked even when it's two in the afternoon on a Sunday, and neither of us is going anywhere.

He takes any opportunity to pinch or prod me. He's always been a physical person, but he enjoys teasing me far more than I can handle. He snickers every time I squirm and gasp when he pokes me or runs his fingers over my ribs to tickle me. In fact, he's thinks it's "fucking hilarious." That's an exact quote.

Worst of all, though, is how easily he hugs me. He's a genuinely affectionate person, and he has no understanding that invading someone's personal bubble is wrong—or maybe he thinks we've been best friends long enough my personal bubble no longer exists for him. He'll press a hug to my back while I'm cooking—then spend the next few minutes with his chin on my shoulder, critiquing my every move because I'm apparently "absolute shit" in the kitchen, though he says it with an amused laugh and his hot breath on my neck. When we watch a movie, he sits right next to me, far closer than necessary on a large couch, and stretches his arms across the back so I have no choice but to curl into him. And on the few nights I still suffer from nightmares, he crawls into my bed and holds me in his muscular embrace until I calm down. On those nights, he refuses to leave, insisting in case the dreams come back. The nightmares stay away for the rest of the night, but his arms remain hooked around me—a promise that he'll keep me safe. He hasn't failed me yet.

When at last I meet Hikari's gaze again, still trying to decide the best way to explain, her face has fallen. "That bad, huh?"

I nod, solemn.

"And you're sure he doesn't know what he's doing?"

I scoff, lips twisting into a petulant scowl. "This is Motomiya. He rarely has any idea what he's doing."

Hikari smiles at that. "Daisuke has matured quite a bit, Ken."

"Not when it comes to me. He's a child—he pouts, he begs, he pokes, he even tries to trip me sometimes."

But she only laughs. "Does he try to pull your pigtails too?"

I shoot her a glare—mostly because she knows one of my reasons for finally cutting my hair back in high school was because Daisuke liked to play with it.

Then, she sighs. "Honestly, it sounds like he likes you, and considering that's exactly what you want, I don't see the problem."

I reach for my teacup and frown at the remnants of my matcha. "You know me, Hikari. I'd prefer not to make any moves without all the data, and this is definitely a situation where I need more data. If I misread signals, I could ruin one of the most important friendships in my entire life."

Hikari stretches across the table to squeeze my wrist. "Change is scary no matter what, Ken. But if you think Daisuke would ever stop being your friend because you confess your feelings, you're underestimating him."

"No, it's not…" I shake my head. "I know he'd still be my friend, but everything would be different. Everything would be tainted."

She smiles again, this one an attempt to comfort and reassure me.

"I just…I need more data, but I can't decide on the best plan to proceed."

"Well," she says, teasing a little now, "if you're asking me to interrogate him about his feelings for you, the answer's definitely no."

I snort. That wasn't even on my radar.

"We're not eleven anymore," she continues, more seriously this time, "and between the two of us, I think we can find something more appropriate and accurate."

I shake my head with a sigh. "I hope so. I've been thinking about this for weeks, but everything I come up with just doesn't work."

She snickers. "Because you're thinking about this like Ichijouji Ken."

I glower at her. "I am Ichijouji Ken."

"Yes, but thinking like you isn't going to break through to Daisuke. You're too logical, too critical. We need to think like him to find something that will work."

Hmm.

That's actually a good idea.

I swallow, narrowing my eyes in thought. "So we play to his strengths?"

Hikari shakes her head, a little smirk growing on her lips. "No, we manipulate his strengths, and we play dirty."

My mouth curves into a wide smile, and a short laugh bursts from my lips.

"Well," she amends, "you play dirty. I have no intention of getting more involved than this."

"Noted," I say when my laughter fades, and I quickly return to all seriousness.

"So first, we determine Daisuke's strengths—how he thinks about things, what senses he relies on, how you can switch around his schedule to your advantage."

I give a short nod. "Well, he's a very physical person, so touch is really important. He bounces around from idea to idea and has trouble making everyday decisions. He's rarely observant, but if something has his focus, he is hyper-aware of that thing, though usually that's a video game or something."

She bobs her head in agreement. "Okay, but I think you're missing something very important: As impulsive as Daisuke can be, he really relies on things to be the same. He relies on you to be the same."

I cock my head. "What do you mean?"

"Ken, it's no secret that you and your friendship has been Daisuke's rock throughout the years. Even a few small changes—nothing too obvious, of course—could really get under his skin."

Oh.

"Also," she adds, "don't forget how incredibly emotional and impulsive he is." Here, she hesitates. "Which is exactly why I think the best course of action is to give him a dose of his own medicine. Force him to be the one uncomfortable."

I want to smile, but I hesitate. "I'm pretty sure that would require more self-confidence than I have, Hikari."

She holds me steady with no more than a firm smile. "Ken, you are one of the most intelligent and attractive men I have ever met. Reach deep and give him hell, you understand?"

I laugh, but my heart isn't in it. "You're enjoying this far too much…"

The small smirk on her normally soft features is confirmation enough.

[ladyanatui]

The Seduction of Motomiya Daisuke, Ch. 4 *A Daiken Fic*

Daisuke’s friendship with Ken has always come easily. It’s the lusting after your best friend part that’s hard.

He just didn’t realize how hard until Ken starts acting weird.

Now, Daisuke isn’t sure how long he can handle his BFF and roommate’s sudden attentions. At least, not without potentially ruining a 12-year friendship.

AO3 | FF.Net

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

DAISUKE

Friday, 4 p.m.

I take the steps up to our apartment two at a time, tired from work but body roaring with anxious energy. Fujita-sensei lost his patience with me a few times—which is rare, honest—because I kept spacing out, but once the lunch rush hit, I didn't have time to be distracted. But now that work has ended?

Yeah, my brain won't shut off.

Considering how the morning went, I have no idea what to expect when I get home. Will it be the shy, sweet Ken who greets me? Or the cool, confident Ken who may or may not be flirting with me?

Okay, obviously, they're both Ken, but normally, when he shows his confidence, it's about kicking my ass on the soccer field or his latest test score performance—it's certainly not about me having a hard-on.

The door is unlocked when I try the knob, and I push it open.

A blast of upbeat holiday music hits me in the face, and slightly pained, I slip off my shoes and jacket and move into the living room to spot Ken up on the couch, one knee digging into the top, the other foot up on the armrest to steady himself as he dangles a string of white lights over a hook—the same hooks we used during last year's Christmas season. It's not even December yet, but the light displays are already open across the country, and Ken's always had a soft spot for the beautiful illuminations.

I pause at the opposite wall to check out his progress.

White and blue lights line half the room, and he has a stack, lit up and ready to hang, on the couch near his feet. The painting of Hoteiosho is out of storage too; the monk grins at me from the far right wall in his nice red robes.

Ken, too, is a sight to see, straddling the couch, his strong legs, despite his narrow frame, accentuated by his white skinny jeans. My eyes follow the natural lines to the apex of those strong legs…and pause there for a moment, perhaps longer than necessary.

Oh, hell, definitely longer than necessary.

Ken has a great ass. Damn near perfect. And I rarely get this nice and uninhibited a view.

His stiff indigo dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, doesn't look bad either. Not that that's a surprise. Ken has always had great style—sleek, classy, and downright sexy. He should be on the cover of a magazine, not getting his master's in psych and criminology.

He must've gone somewhere while I was at work, because he usually dresses more casually at home.

Not that I'm complaining.

He stretches to reach the next hook without losing his balance, and I cock my head to follow the movement. He curses under his breath when he can't reach it, then scoots his knee over, and his foot slips off the armrest. His hand latches on to the couch, grabbing for purchase.

I dash across the distance and wrap my hands around his hips to steady him. "Careful…"

He gasps and nearly topples over. "God, Motomiya, don't scare me like that," he snaps, loud over the music.

"Well, you'd never be able to hear me over this racket, would you?"

Ken slides down to the cushion and twists, resting a hand on my shoulder, then reaches for the remote on the end table. He doesn't have to face the entertainment system to turn the volume down so we can hear each other without yelling. "Sorry," he says, much softer now, his hand still clutching my shoulder.

Not that I want to let him go yet.

"You going to finish these lights?" I ask, nodding toward the nearest hooks and the tangled light string. "I can make sure you don't hurt yourself."

He smiles, squeezing my shoulder, then the smile shifts to a little smirk. "My white knight, always coming to my rescue."

A flush rises to my cheeks, and I stutter for a moment before falling silent.

I'm not sure what exactly is knightly about me supporting him when it's at least fifty percent an excuse to get close to his perfect ass. Not that he needs to know that.

Ken releases a soft laugh at my utter failure, but his eyes squint in that natural affectionate way he sometimes has, and I let it slide. When he returns to hanging the lights, taking a minute to untangle the mess from his slip-up, I keep a hand on his hip, ready in case he starts to fall again.

"I was thinking," I say slowly as he shifts on the cushion, pressing forward to reach another hook. "I'm gonna show you how to cook something."

He glances back, a sleek eyebrow raised. "Right now?"

My mouth twists into a frown. "Hmm, probably tomorrow. We need to go shopping first."

"You're not just going to show me how to properly make rice porridge?" Amusement tinges his voice.

I laugh. "That'd only take a minute—you just need to adjust the heat at the right time. Where's the fun in that?"

He scoffs but doesn't look back from his work. "So you want to show me something elaborate I won't be able to replicate on my own? I don't see how that would be helpful, Motomiya."

"Maybe," I say, firmer now, "it should be more fun than helpful, Ichijouji. We've been friends for twelve years—I can't believe I still have to teach you that."

Ken pauses, a hand pressed to the wall, then he hooks up the last bit of white lights, and leans back into me. In one swift movement, he slips down onto the floor beside me, his back warm against my chest, head on my shoulder, my hand still on his hip.

I start to pull back, but his hand covers mine, holding me in place.

Then, he turns to me and rests his palm on my chest, a serious look in his eyes. "Oh, Motomiya," he murmurs, "don't you know everything is more fun when I'm with you?"

Heat rises to my cheeks, and a pleasant warmth spreads through my body. "Of course it is," I say. "I'm an incredibly fun person."

He rolls his eyes, but amusement tugs his mouth into a small smile. "An incredibly conceited person too."

I chuckle.

We both know he doesn't mean that. He knows better than anyone how much I've struggled with self-confidence, how much of my self-assurance is a facade—because he was the number one person who helped.

He may have been the Kaiser when we met, but he was also the first person who believed in me, even at age eleven. And when we finally became friends, his complete and utter support, understanding, and trust in me, the incompetent screwup, is what helped me grow into the person I needed to be for us to kick BelialVamdemon's ass and save the Digital World.

"So?" I say.

He just smiles at me for a moment. "Shopping in the morning?"

And I grin.

Ken saw me for who I am and believed in me without question, and I have no intention to ever let him down.

[ladyanatui]

The Seduction of Motomiya Daisuke, Ch. 10 *A Daiken Fic*

Daisuke’s friendship with Ken has always come easily. It’s the lusting after your best friend part that’s hard.

He just didn’t realize how hard until Ken starts acting weird.

Now, Daisuke isn’t sure how long he can handle his BFF and roommate’s sudden attentions. At least, not without potentially ruining a 12-year friendship.

AO3 | FF.Net

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

DAISUKE

Saturday, 6 p.m.

By the time the rice is done soaking, Ken is draining his second glass of Cocoromi Norton, an acidic red wine from the Coco Winery north of Tokyo. His cheeks are flushed, and he smiles at me in a way that says he's not all there.

Great. Just great.

How am I supposed to show him how to cook like this?

Thank god I chose something simple and easy, but there's no way in hell I'm letting him hold a knife now.

"Motomiya," he says, drawing out the word in a sing-song voice, "when can I get my hands dirty?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose, forcing myself to concentrate. "Come here, then." I nod him closer but make sure to avoid his eyes. "Help with the rice."

He leaves his glass on the counter by the sink and joins me near the stove, leaning his weight against my shoulder. "How can I help?"

I shrug him off. "Drain the rice."

Ken frowns at the bowl of uncooked rice, soaking in cool water. "Colander or…?"

I try not to laugh as I grab the sushi vinegar, salt, sugar, and kombu. "Ken, it is a strainer." I slide them onto the counter by the rice cooker, then guide him over to the sink with the large bowl. "Like this… "

He presses close to my side as I rotate the bowl over the sink, then tilt it so the water starts to pour through the small holes on one side. A hand, cool to the touch, lands atop my bicep, and he makes a quiet, thoughtful sound as he watches.

"See?" I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "This kind of bowl was made specifically for rinsing rice." I shift to hand it to him as I add, "The closer you get to the end, you have to stick your hand in there to make sure the rice stays in the bowl."

But instead of taking the bowl from me, Ken slips his hand into the cool water and cups the rice so it stays out of the way. His head rests on my shoulder, his movements slow but determined.

When the water has been sufficiently drained, I push the bowl into his hands and tell him to add it to the rice cooker.

"How are you already this drunk from two glasses of wine?" I demand as he uses a spatula to nudge the last grains of rice into the cooker.

Ken just laughs.

With a scowl, I call out the measurements for the rest of the ingredients, and he manages to add everything to the rice cooker without making a mess, which I suppose I should be grateful for. Then, we put the lid on, turn the cooker to sushi mode, and slide it to the back of the counter to make space.

Sighing, Ken relaxes into me again, melting to my side, his head nestled in the crook of my neck, and my body stiffens.

"Ichijouji, how am I supposed to show you anything if all you want to do is take a nap?" I grumble.

His laughter breezes over the skin of my neck—I inhale sharply. "I don't want to nap," he insists, nudging his way between my body and my arm. "I want to snuggle."

I pat his back awkwardly. "You're not usually this…affectionate. Even when you're drunk."

He laughs again, but it's silent this time, and when he's done, he twists to face the counter while still keeping his body in constant contact with mine. "What's next? We're making sushi, aren't we?"

I squeeze his waist with a sigh. "Temaki sushi," I clarify.

Ken pulls back to glare at me, his bottom lip jutting out. "What? We're doing hand rolls? You don't think I can handle making regular maki?"

Amusement tugs at my mouth. "Right now? Definitely not."

He leans closer to flick me on the nose, and I scowl at him.

"Hey, you're the one who decided to get drunk."

"I'm not drunk," he says, pulling away from me finally. "I am blissfully tipsy."

I snort. "Okay, drunk-ass, want to get out everything we bought this morning?"

After a quick scoff, he rummages through the fridge to pull out everything we bought at the marketplace while I pull out the cutting board and find a few knives.

The convenience of making temaki instead of regular maki sushi is that we don't have to be as specific about cutting the ingredients. But still, they need to be in long strips that can easily be rolled up into the nori funnel.

"Okay, you don't get to help with this part," I say the moment he lays the different fish on the counter beside me.

Ken pouts.

That's a rare sight to see.

But no matter how damn cute he is with that pout and those flushed cheeks, I'm not letting him anywhere near my chef knives. Or any knives.

I tap him under the chin to catch his gaze. "There's no way in hell I'm letting you cut yourself, Ichijouji. Deal with it."

He huffs, looking away. "Fine." And he pushes away from the counter.

"You're still supposed to pay attention," I call after him.

But he's at the opposite counter, pouring out another glass of wine. "Aren't you going to drink yours?"

My glass sits beside his, mostly full. I haven't had more than a couple sips.

I shake my head. "Alcohol and knives don't mix, Ken."

I turn my attention to the fish and begin slicing them into long sticks, which will be simple to add to our temaki. The finished pieces, ready to eat, slide onto a platter I pulled out. Organizing this should be easy; everything should be ready by the time the rice is done cooking.

Cold hands settle on my hips, then Ken tucks his chin over one shoulder. "Aren't you going to explain what you're doing?" he murmurs, eyes studying the cutting board, where my knife hand has frozen mid-slice.

I swallow. "Uh, cutting."

He smiles softly. "You've always had a way with words, Motomiya."

His little jibe eases the tension in my body, and I return to slicing through the salmon. "It's simple really," I say, trying to relax my shoulders despite his attentions. "I'm cutting them into slices so they fit on the temaki."

"Fascinating," he murmurs.

I finish slicing the salmon, then move on to the red snapper.

His thumb slips under the hem of my shirt—my breath hitches—and rubs circles on the sensitive skin near my hip. Then, his nose traces up the side of my neck.

I nearly slice off the tip of my index finger.

"Ken," I say, voice quiet but firm, "what are you doing?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you trying to make me lose a finger?"

He leans back with a frown, his brow furrowed in thought. "Why would I want that? I rather like your fingers, Daisuke. There are so many fun things they could be put to good use doing…"

I turn to him sharply, and his intense blue-violet eyes lock with mine.

He's too close.

I wet my lips and try to divert my attention back to the cutting board, but I can't take my eyes off him. Especially since his thumb hasn't stopped rubbing circles right at the hem of my shorts, sending pleasant chills through my body.

"Like what?" I ask, voice quiet. "What 'fun things' should I be doing with my fingers?"

Ken smiles, and the flush on his cheeks increases. "You don't know how to use your imagination, Daisuke?"

Oh, trust me, I use my imagination all the time.

I drop the knife on the cutting board and twist to thread my clean hand through his loose hair. "I want to know what you imagine."

"What I imagine?" He says the words like he hasn't considered the concept before, like he's testing the words on his tongue. "Daisuke…" He blinks slowly, his eyes struggling to focus on me. "I always—"

Pop.

The rice is ready.

We're in the middle of making dinner.

And Ken's been drinking.

I pull away with a guarded smile and check on the food. The paddle moves through the fluffy rice with ease, and the glossy sheen on the grains looks perfect.

This is hardly the time to get carried away.

[ladyanatui]

The Seduction of Motomiya Daisuke, Ch. 9 *A Daiken Fic*

Daisuke’s friendship with Ken has always come easily. It’s the lusting after your best friend part that’s hard.

He just didn’t realize how hard until Ken starts acting weird.

Now, Daisuke isn’t sure how long he can handle his BFF and roommate’s sudden attentions. At least, not without potentially ruining a 12-year friendship.

AO3 | FF.Net

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

KEN

Saturday, 3 p.m.

It's later than I originally intended when I finally allow Daisuke to take a shower. The bath was so comfortable, and I was—perhaps—enjoying my revenge a little too much.

Not that that matters much when his solution tied me into knots. I nearly died on the way to my bedroom—Daisuke was collapsed on his bed, writing in a notebook, his bedroom door ajar, and wearing nothing but a pair of azure boxers, brilliant next to his warm tawny skin. It's an obvious solution to preventing dragging mud everywhere, I suppose, though his spiky hair was still caked with the stuff. I just wasn't prepared. I quickly called out the bathroom was free and hid in my room before he could look my way.

More importantly, though, the long bath gave me time I needed to think.

Now it's his turn to bathe, which gives me the opportunity to get a second opinion.

Daisuke and I have spent almost every waking moment together this weekend, even after last night's disaster, and I haven't had the chance to properly think or plan anything since last night. When I was far too upset to come to any conclusions.

And second opinions?

Well, Hikari's texted me a couple times to ask how it's going, but I've hardly been in a position to properly talk about it. The last thing I need is for Motomiya "I Have No Understanding of Personal Space" Daisuke to steal my phone while I'm texting his fifth-grade crush about my feelings for him.

Can you talk? I text her, eyes darting toward the bathroom.

If all he does it shower, it won't take him long, but it's still enough for a quick chat. If I'm lucky, he'll decide to hop into the bath too.

She doesn't even bother texting me back; my phone rings before I can set it down.

"Moshi moshi," I say when I answer, stirring my steaming oolong tea.

But Hikari breezes past pleasantries. "How are things going? Has anything happened? What's Daisuke-kun's reaction?"

A smile quirks at my mouth, but it fades quickly. "Oh, Hikari, I don't think this is working. This whole weekend has been a disaster."

She hesitates, and when she speaks, her voice is cautious. "What do you mean, Ken?"

"I spent all day yesterday overtly flirting with him, and he just kept giving me these looks—like I was going insane and he had no idea how to fix it. Am I really so bad at this he doesn't realize I'm flirting with him?"

On the other line, she sighs. "Is that all?"

I scowl. "Why are you relieved? I said this is a disaster."

"You've never been touchy-feely or flirtatious, Ken," she reminds me, her voice soothing. "He needs time to adjust and to realize what the change in your behavior means, okay? Don't you dare give up yet."

I slump down in the seat, adjusting the short, indigo and ice-blue kimono so it covers both my thighs. "He almost kissed me last night," I admit in a quiet voice. "He started to lean in. Or at least I thought he did. And I definitely felt, uh, something—you know." Even now, a blush rises to my cheeks. "But then he just rolled away, and he's acted like nothing happened."

I suppose, technically, nothing did happen.

"If he started to lean in, he's interested," she says, her voice soft, reassuring. Then, she hardens. "And really, Ken, we're twenty-three—you should be able to say the word erection out loud."

A scowl tugs at my lips, but I force myself to move past her final words. "If he's interested, why didn't he kiss me? I was practically throwing myself at him—even literally at one point." I heave a sigh, fingers toying with the silk tie at my waist. "Besides, being interested in someone isn't the same as having feelings for them."

"Even if he's only interested in you physically—which I highly doubt—it's not that difficult to develop feelings for someone, especially someone you're already so close with."

"If you're so damn sure of his feelings, why don't you date him?" I snap, then take a long drink of my tea, ignoring the way is scalds my mouth and throat.

Hikari has the gall to laugh. "I had my chance to date Daisuke-kun, but you know better than anyone that he stopped having feelings for me a long time ago."

I sigh, nudging the cup away. "I know."

"Talk to me, Ken. It's not going to get better unless you get it off your chest."

"When he liked you," I begin in a small voice, "he was so vocal about it. Everyone knew. Motomiya isn't exactly subtle." My eyes dart toward the bathroom, where the shower is still running—he's probably having a hell of a time getting the mud out of his hair. "And that's been true the few times he crushed on someone in high school. He talked about them, about you, all the time, but…"

She clicks her tongue. "But he doesn't talk about you like that?"

"Well, no."

"Who would he talk to? You're his best friend and his roommate. You're always the person he turns to for this sort of thing, so if he has feelings for you, who is he supposed to talk to?" She pauses. "I mean, who did you talk to?"

I frown.

That's fair. Hikari was the first person I openly talked to about my feelings, and that was only in the last couple years. Far more recent than the feelings began.

"Okay, I see your point," I finally cede.

"What has today been like? After last night's almost kiss."

I tug my lip between my teeth in thought. "Unbearable, honestly. He's been awkward, and I've been awkward, but I guess it's gotten better. He took me all the way to Tsukiji Market—we're going to make dinner together—and that took forever. He spends half his time catching up with the vendors." I frown. "I suppose it pays off, though—you should've seen the deal he got on fatty tuna. And we ate sushi for lunch while we were there, and then, when we got back, he made me play soccer in the mud."

Hikari snickers. "You realize how much that sounds like a date, right?"

I roll my eyes. "Taking me to the fish market isn't a date."

"Maybe not for a normal person, but this is Daisuke-kun. You know how much he loves cooking for people—he throws a fit any time Takeru and I visit him at the shop and always makes our food special. But he's never shown anyone how to cook anything. Miyako's asked him for help, but he's never given her anything more than a tip here and there, you know?"

My eyes flutter shut, and I pinch the bridge of my nose. "He just wants to make sure I don't burn down the apartment while trying to feed myself. Please stop making this sound like it's more than it is."

Finally, Hikari relents with a sigh. "Fine, fine. I'm just saying, the two of you making dinner together sounds awfully romantic."

I purse my lips. "I'm sure it's not. I just wanted to make sure I had as much time with him as possible."

I take another sip of the oolong. It's cooled down enough it doesn't burn this time.

Okay, perhaps—perhaps—teaching me to cook something is a little romantic. But is it worth it to think like that? The last thing I want is to get my hopes up and then torn asunder, which isn't difficult to imagine.

Of the few relationships he's had, none ever lasted longer than two weeks. He always found some random, not-very-believable reason to break it off.

She snores—hypocrite.

He's too clingy—hypocrite.

She's too messy—again, hypocrite.

He barely passed high school math—need I say it again?

"Ken," Hikari says with a sigh, "you know I want you to be happy, right?" She doesn't pause for me to answer. "Well, right now, that requires you to take the initiative. You don't have time to waste on being pessimistic."

In the distance, the water shuts off.

I listen carefully, but there's no plop or splash. He's not getting in the bath. He's toweling off.

Shit.

"He's coming out of the shower," I say quickly. "I have to go."

"Wait, wait," she says before I can hang up. "Last thing, I promise."

"Hurry."

"Just remember this: You are his most important friend, probably the most important person in his life. I'm certain he has feelings for you, but you have to know he's just as scared as you are to ruin that friendship by admitting it."

The bathroom door opens, and Daisuke spends a few seconds checking his hair in the vanity mirror before heading toward his bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.

I bite my lip.

He's such a tease, and he has no idea.

"He needs to see he doesn't have anything to worry about," she continues, "and I know you need to see that too. You've got to keep going, okay?"

I take a deep breath and nod. "Okay."

[ladyanatui]

The Seduction of Motomiya Daisuke, Ch. 6 *A Daiken Fic*

Daisuke’s friendship with Ken has always come easily. It’s the lusting after your best friend part that’s hard.

He just didn’t realize how hard until Ken starts acting weird.

Now, Daisuke isn’t sure how long he can handle his BFF and roommate’s sudden attentions. At least, not without potentially ruining a 12-year friendship.

AO3 | FF.Net

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

DAISUKE

Saturday, 2 a.m.

"Aaaahh…"

My eyes ache, but I force them open and eye the digital clock on the kitchen counter.

Fuck, it's only been an hour since I last looked at the time. Haven't done more than doze for the last few hours. Didn't even bother going to bed.

"Mmmmm…no, no…"

But Ken's having a nightmare, and even miserable and half-dead, I can't let him suffer. At least not alone.

I move on autopilot, staggering down the hallway, hand clutching the wall for support.

Ken's trembling when I crawl into his bed. Only when I wrap him in my arms and pull him tight against me, his face buried in my chest, do the spasms start to settle.

"Shhhh," I murmur, running my fingers through his silky hair, then down his back in slow deliberate motions. "It's okay now."

He shivers in my arms and presses closer.

I pull back enough to wipe away a couple tears glistening on his cheek and frown at how pink and puffy his eyes are—a sure sign he cried himself to sleep a few hours ago.

My eyes clamp shut; my jaw clenches. "I'm sorry." I'm not sure what exactly I fucked up and I know he's too out of it to hear the apology, but I'm sorry. "I never meant to make you cry."

I take a long breath and tuck his head under my chin. "Everything's okay, I promise. I'll make sure of it." My fingers rub circles down his back until his breathing evens out.

After that, I can finally relax.

*

Saturday, 7 a.m.

Thump, thump, thump…

A heart throbs deep through my ribs, and it takes a long moment to register it isn't mine. Admittedly, my heart beats to the same rhythm, so it's an easy mistake to make.

I inhale deeply and rub the sleep from my eyes. The world smells like jasmine and rose and sandalwood, and I would know that combination anywhere.

My eyes flash open.

Ken's head rests on my chest, an ear to my heart, his hand under my shirt, fingers grazing my ribs. His body clings to my side, one leg slung over mine.

I hold him tighter, enjoying the unabashed closeness. On the few nights we've shared a bed in the past, Ken has always been pressed firmly against the wall in the morning, as far out of reach as possible. If I woke up every morning with Ken snuggled up to me, I'm pretty sure I could die happy.

For now, nothing will prevent me from enjoying this moment.

My stomach grumbles.

Ugh, I guess I do require food. As much as I want to, I can't stay in bed forever.

Besides, who knows what kind of mood Ken will be in when he wakes up. He probably doesn't even know I'm here, and based on last night, I doubt he'd be too pleased to find me in his bed.

I close my eyes one last time, enjoying a final moment of cuddling before this has to end. Before I have to go back to the reality of being best friends and nothing more.

He releases a deep sigh—

And I take that as my cue to leave before he wakes up.

It takes some skillful maneuvers and finesse—meaning I fall on my ass and nearly drag the sheets and Ken down with me—before I can slip from the bedroom, and after a quick stop in the bathroom, I study the contents of our fridge and pantry.

Maybe if I make breakfast, he'll be in a better mood. He always likes it when I cook breakfast.

I turn on the radio and bounce around the kitchen, gathering ingredients. I start the rice and throw some chicken stock in a pot while chopping up the nori and tofu, then toss the nori in the simmering stock.

There's no sound from Ken's bedroom—odd in itself since he's usually up by now, even on the weekends—but when AKB48's latest single comes on, I twist the knob hard and dance around the kitchen, no longer concerned about the noise.

I shuffle from side to side while whipping together the egg, soy sauce, and mirin, then move on to prep the miso.

The steps and movements are simple, easy, memorized, and my eyes dart across the peninsula to where the living room is still a mess from last night.

Well, as messy as Ken ever allows it. Such a neat freak.

I frown as I study the vacant living room. The table is pushed to the side and the television is still pulled out to the middle of the room for easy viewing.

Honestly, I don't know what the hell happened last night. Or really any of yesterday. Why was Ken acting so weird? He kept switching from strangely, openly affectionate to more distant than normal, and I don't know how I'm supposed to make heads or tails of that.

Don't get me wrong, the guy can be moody as fuck, but yesterday was a special case. I just don't know why.

I slide the tofu and green onions into the broth and stir it together before leaving it to cook more, pausing by the counter.

My mouth tightens into a firm purse.

Something doesn't sit right. Like there's something obvious and important I'm missing, but I can't put my finger on it.

I heave a sigh and turn back to the food.

If it's important, I'll figure it out eventually.

The rice is done now, and I spoon it into bowls and stir in the egg mixture, then leave it to thicken. The miso soup should be about done too.

I pause to study the countertop, then begin to put away all the ingredients.

You know what's funny?

Last night, during that stupid movie neither of us paid attention to after the midway point, I used judo skills he taught me to get out of that painfully awkward mounted position, but Ken didn't use any grappling moves on me once. He definitely could have.

Judo was one of the few activities he continued after he was no longer the Kaiser. Yeah, he had to work his skill level back up to where it had been under the influence of the Dark Seed, but he did—or at least pretty damn close. And once he regained his confidence, he added jiu jitsu to his many talents.

What little I know is from watching all his matches like the amazing friend I am and from us goofing off. I kept getting pissed off when he won our every wrestling game, so he took it upon himself to teach me some throws and escapes. I managed to win a few after that, though I'm still convinced he was just stroking my ego.

His skill is far beyond my level, and we're both well aware of that fact. He could have escaped that mount easily, even with his hands pinned.

Wait.

That means he chose not to. Did he want me to hold him down like that, to straddle him? Why?

Unease settles in my stomach.

Because I can only come up with one reason:

He wanted me to kiss him.

I fan myself, suddenly overheated from working at the stove.

Okay, yeah, if that's not what he wanted, kissing him would've been a huge, awkward, embarrassing mess, but if it is…fuck, I missed a perfectly good opportunity to kiss Ken and I should be kicking myself.

I've liked him so long I stopped considering any of this possible. The idea that childhood celebrity Ichijouji Ken, even if he's been my best friend for years, could reciprocate my feelings is laughable.

But I don't feel like laughing anymore.

I close my eyes, hands clenched, and struggle to breathe.

"Motomi—"

I jump, suddenly grateful my hands are clamped on the counter's edge instead of holding any of the food.

Behind me, he hesitates, then says, "Daisuke, why is the music so loud?"

I turn my attention to the radio instead of Ken and move over to turn it down. At some point, the station switched songs, probably a few times, but I was far too inside my own head to notice.

"Sorry," I say when it's quieter, finally glancing over my shoulder.

On the opposite side of the peninsula, Ken leans against a nearby wall, heavy eyes watching me, his black hair mussed up on one side in a way that screams nothing short of fucking adorable. Or you know, adorably fuckable. Thankfully, he doesn't look angry or upset, but I'm not taking any chances.

I clear my throat and slide two bowls toward him. "I made breakfast."

He eyes them carefully, then scoots closer to examine the contents: one bowl of miso soup and one of tamago kake gohan. "Thank you," he murmurs, not meeting my gaze, but he accepts the chopsticks and soup spoon with a soft smile and sits on the stool there. He looks oddly peaceful.

I stay in the kitchen while I eat, keeping the distance between us.

For a while, we eat in silence, both picking at the food. Ken always eats slowly, especially in the morning, but I still can't quiet my mind—all I can think are the words kiss and Ken over and over. God, if I keep this up, my brain is going to explode.

Ken takes a quiet spoonful of his miso, then assesses me with freakishly piercing eyes. "You alright, Motomiya? You look shaken."

My reaction is somewhere between shrugging and shaking my head. Yeah, that's real fucking convincing.

But he doesn't push the matter. "Are you still going to show me how to cook today?"

I pause mid-bite, having completely forgotten. "Uh, yeah, sure. We need to go shopping then."

He nods and offers me one of those perfectly sweet Ken smiles that's made me think I'm having a heart attack on multiple occasions.

There aren't many people who earn that particular smile, and like always, I'm honored and pleased to be one of the select few. But unlike every other time, my brain is now going to spend the next twenty minutes dissecting what exactly that smile means.

[ladyanatui]

The Seduction of Motomiya Daisuke, Ch. 3 *A Daiken Fic*

Daisuke’s friendship with Ken has always come easily. It’s the lusting after your best friend part that’s hard.

He just didn’t realize how hard until Ken starts acting weird.

Now, Daisuke isn’t sure how long he can handle his BFF and roommate’s sudden attentions. At least, not without potentially ruining a 12-year friendship.

AO3 | FF.Net

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

DAISUKE

Friday, 9 a.m.

I've spent the last twenty minutes in front of my full-length mirror, staring down my reflection. Trying not to worry about whatever the hell went on in the bathroom not too long ago. Trying not to panic.

I need to get a grip, dammit.

This is just a normal day, and nothing strange has happened this morning. I haven't spent the last couple hours fantasizing about my best friend, and he definitely wasn't flirting with me in the bathroom.

Oh, fuck.

Was Ken flirting with me this morning?

Because if he was flirting with me, if there's actually the potential he's interested in being more than we are now, that changes things.

Dammit!

Stop getting distracted, and stop getting worked up over nothing.

I flirt with Ken all the time. If he were interested, he'd reciprocate with more than blushing and stammering, right? Because he's been doing that since we were eleven years old. If he were actually receptive, it wouldn't be so damn one-sided.

For him to suddenly jump on the offense makes no sense. What the hell is going through his head?

When I finally emerge from my bedroom again, mostly dressed for my lunch shift at the ramen shop, decidedly less sexually frustrated than when I went into it, there's a warm scent drifting from the kitchen, but something about it's off.

Ken is at the stove, his bottom lip tethered between his teeth, brow furrowed at his pot. "Why isn't it working?" he grumbles. "This isn't supposed to be that hard."

I sidle up beside him, determined to play things cool, and glance toward the stove before catching his eye. "Whatchya making?"

He shoots me a scowl.

But a quick survey of the scene makes it pretty obvious: A bag of rice and a few jars of pickled plums and apricots sit on the counter nearby—he's making rice porridge.

Another glance, and I already know why his hard work is a dud. Inside his pot, the rice is mushy, but not particularly porridgey.

"You were supposed to turn the heat down as soon as it came to a boil, Ken." I try to suppress my amusement—especially when he sends me that deep glare—but he's just too cute when he tries to cook things. He's really terrible at it.

I mean, rice porridge isn't difficult to make, even if it's a bit time-consuming.

"How long did you let it keep boiling on medium high?" I raise an eyebrow when all he does is glare again. "Don't get mad at me. You're the one who doesn't know how to make rice porridge, Ken."

Pouting, he plops the lid back on the pot and turns the burner off. Then, he turns his back on the stove and crosses his arms—over his bare chest. Apparently, during the time I was definitely not hiding and panicking in my bedroom, all Ken has managed to put on is a pair of dark gray boxers and an untied robe that ends mid-thigh. His hair, dry now, is doing this weird curl thing by his ear.

It's weird. By the time the sun rises, Ken is always fully dressed and ready for the day. He rarely walks around in even a set of pajamas, let alone his underwear.

Not that I'm complaining.

"I'm sure it'll taste fine even if it's a little thick." I move closer and grab the spoon to stir the porridge. It might also be burned on the bottom.

Laughter bubbles from my mouth before I can prevent it, but another deep glare puts me in my place.

I stifle the chuckles as I move in front of him and lay my hands on his shoulders. "It's okay if you're not very good at this. You know that, right?"

Ken's glare focuses on the floor, but his pout grows more pronounced. A soft pink has spread across his cheeks, warming his normally pale skin. I'd want to strangle him if he wouldn't so goddamn cute like this.

Besides, this is the Ken I know. Shy, adorable Ken who blushes every time I compliment him or stand closer than is strictly a reasonable friendship distance.

I step closer, nestling one foot between his slightly spread legs, and poke his nose to draw his attention. "You want me to throw something together really quick?"

His eyes trail up my body—I fight off a shiver—and his mouth twists into a frown. "You don't have time before your shift, do you?"

"I could make you an omelet," I add with a shrug. "Speaking of work, since when do you have Fridays off?"

He shakes his head, and his blue-violet eyes finally shift to meet my gaze. "The office is closed today, remember? This is my long weekend."

I nod.

It sounds familiar. Mostly, I remember talking to Fujita-sensei about shifting my schedule so I had most of the weekend off to spend time with him. After my shift today, we'll both be here for the next two days straight, no obligations but to each other.

I'd be lying if I said that doesn't scare the shit out of me right now.

"So?" I ask after a moment.

Ken lifts an eyebrow, but his pout has mostly disappeared.

"Omelet?" I suggest. "Or something else quick before I have to head out?" I hesitate but lift my hand to smooth the curls by his ear—it's everyday sort of thing I'd do. "You're going to need a haircut soon."

His cheeks light up, pink spreading across his smooth skin. "Actually, I was thinking of growing it out again."

I cock an eyebrow and struggle to hide the pleasure from my tone. "Really?"

His blush increases, emboldening me.

My fingers thread through his soft hair and slide out to the ends, and a soft gasp escapes his mouth. "I kind of miss it. You looked really pretty with the long hair."

When I meet his eyes again, they're wide, and his cheeks are a bright pink now.

Uh, perhaps a little too bold.

I release his hair and clear my throat. "You hungry? Food, right?"

He nods.

Without another word, I move to the fridge to grab the eggs and other ingredients, and Ken moves out of the way to give me space to work, watching from afar. I chop veggies, shred cheese, and scramble eggs while the skillet heats up, and when I gather everything by the stove, I try to alleviate the strange tension in the air.

"How much do you know about making an omelet?" I throw behind me.

"You've got to break some eggs, right?" Two lanky arms encircle my waist, hands clasping just above my belt, and Ken rests his chin on my shoulder. "Isn't that how the saying goes?"

My body tenses.

Ken never initiates touching, despite obviously enjoying the affection.

Then, as his words set in, I laugh, my chest shaking, and lean my head back. My eyes dart toward him, but I immediately shift my focus back to the hot skillet. "Yeah, something like that." I clear my throat. "I'm off work around three. What do you want to do tonight? Any fun plans?"

Ken hums, the vibrations sending a pleasant thrill through my shoulder and neck. "Something relaxing. Maybe a movie." And he buries his face in the crook of my neck, then holds extra still while I flip the omelet.

I nod, movement stiff. "That sounds nice."

He releases a soft sigh, and the hairs on my neck bristle as his hot exhalation permeates my clothes. "I want to choose this time," he murmurs.

"Yeah, okay…"

There's something inherently sexual about the way his speech and breath feel against my skin, and fuck, I'd probably agree to anything he asks right now.

I blink to clear my vision, then curse under my breath and flick off the burner. The omelet is just starting to brown on the bottom when I slide it onto the plate—it could be worse, but I shouldn't have been distracted in the first place.

"You know," I say, trying to keep my voice steady, "we have this whole weekend—I should show you how to cook something. That way you're not utterly helpless."

Ken leans back with a scoff. "I'm not helpless, Motomiya."

"Food's ready." I take the opportunity to pull out of his grasp. "And I need to head out."

When I look back, he has a pensive frown on his face, but he says again, "I'm not helpless." His words are softer this time, less accusatory.

I sigh and step close again, drawing his attention with a finger under his chin. "It's okay, Ken." I offer him a small smile that swiftly transitions into a full-blown, conspiratorial grin. "I like how much you need me."

A blush spreads across his cheeks, but he holds my gaze with an intense look in his blue-violet eyes.

Whatever he's trying to communicate, I'm missing the meaning.

I swallow, mouth suddenly dry, and step back. "I have to head to work. Can't be late."

By the time I have my shoes on by the door, Ken is sitting on the couch with his omelet and a pleased smile on his soft features as he flips on the news.

[ladyanatui]

The Seduction of Motomiya Daisuke, Ch. 8 *A Daiken Fic*

Daisuke’s friendship with Ken has always come easily. It’s the lusting after your best friend part that’s hard.

He just didn’t realize how hard until Ken starts acting weird.

Now, Daisuke isn’t sure how long he can handle his BFF and roommate’s sudden attentions. At least, not without potentially ruining a 12-year friendship.

AO3 | FF.Net

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

DAISUKE

Saturday, 1 p.m.

By the time we reach the park, Ken doesn't look any more pleased with the idea than the moment when, after we put away the groceries, I chucked the soccer ball at his head and he barely managed to catch it before it smacked him in the face. He argued, he complained, he cajoled, and yes, he had a point—it did rain most of the train ride home, though the rain stopped before we had to walk through it—but I didn't relent.

"When has a little rain ever been a problem?" I asked him. "Are you afraid of getting a tiny bit muddy? Are you that much of a clean freak, Ichijouji?"

I wasn't surprised when he bristled. "Not afraid." But then he paused and admitted quietly, "I'm out of practice, though."

Which is all too true, and perhaps a large reason I want to play a little one-vee-one.

We played against each other from that first all-important match in fifth grade till high school graduation, and winning against Tamachi was rare. In a one-vee-one against Ichijouji Ken, Tamachi's number one striker? Nearly impossible.

But he hasn't played since high school, aside from an occasional casual match—not even once a month.

I at least play a weekly game with a few guys, though it's laid-back and most of them aren't enough competition. I at least have some practice still.

Hell, if there's even a tiny chance I can kick his ass, I'm gonna take it.

So no, I didn't relent, no matter how much he complained.

And I won't relent now that we're here either.

"It's called muscle memory, Ichijouji," I say as I pause at the edge of the pitch beside him.

His mouth tightens into a scowl, but he doesn't look at me. "Just because you play a casual game every week doesn't mean you'll manage to beat me."

I cock an eyebrow. "Care to put that to the test then?"

Ken smirks, finally meeting my eyes. "And what do I get when I win, Motomiya?"

Excellent.

"Depends." I toss the ball up in the air and catch it with one hand. "What do you want?"

His blue-violet eyes study me carefully while determining his response, and he settles on a cool but dangerous sort of confidence. "You'll find out when I win."

I scoff, but I'm practically buzzing with energy. "Well, I already know exactly what I want when I win, and I'm not telling you till I do."

This kind of tension is exactly what I live for. I thrive on it.

Most of the time, Ken retreats into himself, hiding away from the world, especially around people he doesn't know well. He's decent with the other Chosen now—talks to them more openly, smiles and laughs more often—but no one else draws out this Ken like I do.

This Ken is confident, competitive, even eager. He's cool and collected and smug, he's occasionally cruel but in a good-natured way, and he likes to win. Honestly, this Ken sometimes frightens me. He gets my blood boiling, my heart thumping at full force, sends some positively perverse thoughts through my head. He's the Ken most reflective of his Kaiser persona, but it's not the same, he's not the same. Because unlike the Kaiser, he has a warm, hearty laugh, he cracks jokes, he teases, and through it all, he remains the kind, pensive, intelligent, sweet Ken he always is.

"I guess we have no choice then," he says, flippant, and begins a determined march toward the center of the field.

My eyes gravitate toward his perfect ass as he stalks across the soggy grass. He's wearing his high school soccer uniform—it is the most appropriate attire for the occasion, and it's tight enough not to get in the way. It's honestly impressive the thing still fits him after five years. But it's not like he's gained weight—only grown a few more centimeters.

Okay.

Subconsciously, I may have suggested this because I wanted to see Ken in uniform again.

Fucking worth it.

And here's hoping I don't get too distracted by the spectacular view. Because I want to win.

I have plans for if I win, dammit.

He walks with the confidence that I'll follow, and he's right about that. But I would follow Ken anywhere.

Before I'm even halfway across the pitch, he's at the center, and he begins his typical warm-up routine: hip flexors, calf stretch, quad stretch, heel stretch, and a few modified versions of his normal stretches to avoid sitting on the muddy ground.

I stumble to a stop the moment he slowly bends over, one ankle crossed over the other, arms down, hands flattening on the wet grass in front of his feet. Because the view of his pert ass couldn't possibly be better. And dear god, that flexibility could be put to some good use under more intimate circumstances.

Yeah, I'm fucked.

I force my feet to move again, slowly approaching, and drop the ball on the ground when I reach him.

Ken throws a terse glance my way as he hooks an arm behind his head in a simple shoulder stretch. "You ready to get your ass handed to you, Motomiya?"

I spend half a second more staring at him.

But it's time to get my head in gear or I'm going to lose. And losing isn't an option today. I want to implement my plan tonight, and winning this match may be exactly what I need to get the ball rolling.

"Don't get too cocky, Ichijouji," I snap and begin to do a few stretches of my own. "I won't let you win so easily."

Of course, that also requires me to pretend I'm not deathly curious what would happen if he won, what he wants from me.

He smiles. "You never make anything easy."

I frown, not quite sure what he means, but he starts doing a round of jumping jacks before I can even consider whether I should ask. And then I'm staring again.

No.

I won't let him distract or confuse me, dammit.

Once we're both properly warmed up, we decide victory goes to the first to score five goals, and per usual, Ken devotes himself wholly to the task at hand.

He snags the ball immediately, and I rush to keep up with him. His long legs and low mass make him fast, but he's not the same kid running circles around my entire team anymore.

In high school, we were much more evenly matched—partially because no one knew better than me how to anticipate Ken's thoughts and moves. If we'd played on a team together, we would've been in complete sync, able to predict each other and play off of the other's strengths. But as opponents…well, I'm pretty sure our coaches thought we spent too much time trying to outdo each other than actually win the game.

He scores the first goal, but I get the ball next, dribbling it toward the opposite goal. This time, he chases me. By the time he scores a second shot, I've managed three goals.

A proud grin spreads across my mouth when we meet at the center again, but Ken's eyes narrow in a way that's strikingly familiar.

In a way that makes me fear for my life.

And my sanity.

Grass stains and little flecks of mud spread up his body, primarily on his shoes and shins, but there's even the occasional streak on his arm.

I gulp.

Mud has never looked so damn attractive.

He snatches the ball immediately and, to no one's surprise, levels the playing field with another score before I can do anything but follow in his wake.

Dammit.

Five years since he's played a competitive soccer game, and he's still this fucking good. Muscle memory is part of it—he did play for over a decade—but honestly, I attribute it to what I call Ken Magic. Even without the Dark Seed, Ken remains the most intelligent and talented person I know.

Koushiro-san, ever the logical one, insists that's technically incorrect. That while, yes, Ken is very intelligent and skilled, his IQ isn't what it was as the Kaiser. That I'm biased because Ken is so important to me.

True or not—and I guess Koushiro-san is generally trustworthy on these matters—I don't care.

Ken is smart, kind, patient, ambitious, talented at everything, and absolutely beautiful. Of course I'm biased. How could I not be biased? He's practically perfect, no matter how dark his past is or how much it still bothers him, and I have no problems explaining that to anyone.

But I have serious problems with him winning this match.

"I thought you were going to make this a challenge, Motomiya," he says when we meet at centerfield again.

I shrug. "Alright, I gave you that last one. You looked pretty upset." And you know, I was too busy ogling him to focus. "Besides, I like the challenge of whooping your ass when the score is this close."

He glares, but it gets my point across. "Don't you dare let me win out of pity, Motomiya." His voice is dangerously low.

"I wouldn't dare. I want this too much."

Plus, I'm fairly certain he would murder me if he ever legitimately believed I took it easy on him.

We each only have two points left to win, but I'm not so sure of my victory now. Still, this is a better shot at beating Ken in a one-vee-one than I've ever had before, and I managed to beat him a few times during his prime.

Besides, what better way to interrogate him about the last thirty-six hours than to do it under the pretense of a bet? If I win this, I intend to launch a full investigation into his recent behavior, into his...potential feelings.

Not that he needs to know that.

He takes the ball, but I dart around him and kick it in the opposite direction, right between his legs. He stumbles and we collide not even a second later, all hands and legs and feet and mud and sweat.

Ken lands on top of me, blue-violet eyes staring into my soul. My breath catches at our close proximity. Heat rises to my cheeks. And he…

He slips off easily before running after the ball.

It takes a moment to collect myself, mostly because my back is now coated in grass and mud. And stupid Ken didn't fare nearly so bad—he has a couple muddle, scraped knees and shins for his fall.

By the time I chase after him, he's scored his fourth goal.

Shit.

This is going to be closer than I thought.

But I always perform better when the chips are down. I need to score twice before letting him get a final goal.

And under the circumstances, I don't mind playing a little dirty.

We start again at centerfield, and this time, I hesitate just long enough for him to dribble the ball to the side to pass me. I spin with him so we're side to side, then trace a finger down his spine—Ken staggers, and I kick the ball with my heel, sending is flying between us and toward my goal.

I dart after it before he has a chance to turn around—or worse, retaliate.

Once I'm close enough, Ken on my heels, a quick instep kick is all it takes to level the score again.

One goal away.

"You cheated," he snaps as we march back to centerfield.

I laugh. "It's not like I tripped you or even pulled your shirt, Ichijouji. No ref would've called me on that."

He shoots a glare my way. "I don't care if a referee would've let is slide. You used your knowledge of my body against me. That's cheating."

I splutter, nearly dropping the ball.

My knowledge of his body?

Okay, I mean, that's technically accurate. But does he really have to say it like that when all he means is that I know how sensitive and ticklish he is and where?

"Come on, Motomiya!" He's five paces ahead, and I scurry to catch up as he snarls, "Next person to score wins, and then I get the bathroom first."

I scowl. "You're going to make me sit in a muddy mess while you take a nice long bath, aren't you?"

"You better not make a mess anywhere while you wait." We reach the center, and he turns to glare at me. "Let's get this over with already."

With the final ball, Ken is in full-on general mode, nudging and cutting the ball across the pitch diagonally, but I run down the center line to cut him off. I dive close when he reaches midfield, and he tries to evade me with an elastico, but I don't let him shake me off. Determination in his eyes, he glances toward the center and the goal, plotting his next move.

It's a feint.

When he kicks the ball again, it's a scoop turn to send the ball to the left instead, and I'm ready for him, slicing across the space to nudge it back to the right and under my control. He twists to reach me, but I nudge the ball behind me and away from him before darting back, nudging it into the air, and sending it arcing over and around him toward my goal.

Ken releases a low growl, and he's on my heels the moment I catch up to the ball, dribbling it down the field. He drives me toward the edge, cornering me in an attempt to steal the ball back, but I'm not going to let him beat me this time.

I catch the ball with one foot, sliding it to the other with a swift one-eighty spin, then pull the ball with me. Leaving me with enough space to shoot the ball with an instep kick, driving it right into the side netting.

Then, I stumble and fall, body pushed to the ground with a face full of wet grass.

Panting—and practically growling—Ken sits atop my lower back, hands holding my shoulders down. But he doesn't say anything.

I manage to push up enough to breath more than just mud and grass, and once I catch my breath, I try to turn to him. "Something wrong, Ichijouji?" Still can't see more than a scraped and muddy leg.

"Okay, fine, you won." He leans close to my ear, irritation lacing his voice. "What do you want from me?"

The words send a chill down my spine.

Everything.

I want everything from Ken.

But that's not what he means.

I pull my knee up and push off with my center, sending him flying to the ground, flat on his back. I collapse beside him with a deep sigh, eyes staring up at the overcast sky. "Don't you worry about a thing, Ichijouji. You'll find out tonight."

[ladyanatui]

The Seduction of Motomiya Daisuke, Ch. 7 *A Daiken Fic*

Daisuke’s friendship with Ken has always come easily. It’s the lusting after your best friend part that’s hard.

He just didn’t realize how hard until Ken starts acting weird.

Now, Daisuke isn’t sure how long he can handle his BFF and roommate’s sudden attentions. At least, not without potentially ruining a 12-year friendship.

AO3 | FF.Net

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

DAISUKE

Saturday, 9 a.m.

Ken hangs back while I haggle with Aoki-san, but when I join him again, pleased with the price, he doesn't look anything more than curious—mixed with uneasy. To be fair, I've never taken him with me the many times I've been to Tsukiji Market. He doesn't know what to expect.

"What's up?" I ask, leading the way down the narrow aisle, one hand gripping the cooler.

He frowns but falls into step beside me. "Surely we're not only eating shrimp…"

I release an uncomfortable laugh—I refuse to spoil this. "No time to talk, Ichijouji. We're already running late."

He shoots me a scowl. "You never leave the apartment before nine, Motomiya. It's only just nine now."

I cock an eyebrow. "How would you know? You're off to class by seven."

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

Finally, I grin. "You'll find out when we're in the kitchen. But to answer your question, we'll stop somewhere on the way home to grab everything else we need."

He nods, eyes distant, then falls silent as we reach another shop, and I pause to examine the display of uni.

Of course, how can I focus my mind on the urchins when Ken stands behind me, shrinking out of the way of the masses, shrinking practically to nonexistence? He's anxious. He hates crowds, but going to the market—the best market, even if it's practically an hour away—is an essential part to making a decent meal.

But that's not all.

I know him well enough after all these years to know that his current state of anxiety isn't only from the busy marketplace. He's been quiet since he got up, and the train ride here was the most awkward experience we've shared in years.

Probably not helped by the fact that I've been struggling not to analyze every look, expression, and word.

We move on.

He walks beside me, steps slow and careful, and I keep pace with him. He keeps sending me contemplative glances, and dear god, I don't know how to interpret that.

By the fifth look, I stop, shifting to the side of the narrow walkway, and turn to him. "Okay, seriously, what's wrong?"

Ken raises an eyebrow, pausing not far away. "I feel like that's my line."

I frown.

He's right. Something's obviously bothering me. No matter how hard I try, I can't hide my emotions—not from Ken, never from Ken.

But how in the world do you ask your best friend if they have a crush on you?

If I'm too direct, I'll scare him off. And if I'm too indirect, he won't even realize what I'm asking—or worse, he'll know what I mean but intentionally avoid properly answering because my indirectness gave him an out. Plus the whole thing where even my indirect is too direct for most people. And Ken…well, Ken is all subtlety.

Instead, I swallow down my questions and say, "What should we do after this?"

Ken frowns at me, then lets his eyes scan the busy marketplace. "I get the feeling you have a lot more shops you want to stop at, and then we'll need to take the food home. Plus, you said we'll stop for the rest of the ingredients somewhere else."

I shrug. "I meant after all that, Ichijouji."

He keeps his eyes averted. "Are we cooking for lunch or dinner?"

I pause, considering. "Dinner. We'll probably need to grab lunch on our way home."

He raises an eyebrow—this trip is probably turning out to be a lot longer than he'd hoped. "Okay. So what do you want to do?"

With an irritated sigh, I set the cooler on the ground beside me and cross my arms.

Looks like this conversation is going nowhere fast.

I hate this tension between us. He's anxious, I'm anxious, and I can't figure out why. Okay, I know why I'm anxious, but is he still upset about last night? Or is he anxious because something's bothering me?

It certainly doesn't help that I'm still processing everything.

But I guess there's no time like the present.

"Ken…"

Finally, he looks at me again, eyes wide at my strangely soft tone.

"Why have you been acting so weird?"

He studies me. "What do you mean?" He chooses his words with as much care and precision as his eyes watch me.

"All of yesterday…I don't—"

I frown.

Can't fuck this up, dammit.

"Something's different, but you won't talk to me. I just—I want you to know, you can say anything to me." I reach for him and thread our fingers together.

A pink flush rises to his cheeks, and it spurs me on.

"There's nothing you could say or do that would make me unhappy. Just being together—with you—makes me happy."

Eyes wide but thoughtful, he smiles under his blush, then slowly steps back, though he allows me to keep his hand. "Thank you, Daisuke. It means a lot to hear you say that."

All I can do is wait.

But when his eyes meet mine again, his kind smile says it all: no announcement, no confession, no nothing. Instead, he says, "We could play some games tonight. Card games, chess, Go…"

There's nothing predatory in his face, but I narrow my eyes suspiciously. "The last time you convinced me to play Go, you handed my ass to me in less than fifteen minutes."

Ken gives a half-shrug, not even remotely apologetic. "You refused all my attempts to help with your strategy."

I try to refrain from grinning at the teasing sound in his voice and fail horribly. Because that means I've broken through to him, gotten him to settle, and the uncomfortable, abnormal tension fades away.

"Cards," I agree firmly. "Poker. And I get to decide what we do once we're home."

His mouth twists up in amusement, but he nods.

I grab the cooler, tug on his hand, still entwined with mine, and lead him down the narrow lane. "Come on then. We need to buy some salmon, some tuna, maybe some red snapper. Oh, and let's not forget the roe."

He follows behind me, hopelessly dragged along but thankfully still smiling. "What are we making, Motomiya? Why do we need fish eggs?"

"Why would I want to ruin the surprise?" I call over my shoulder.

[ladyanatui]

The Seduction of Motomiya Daisuke, Ch. 5 *A Daiken Fic*

Daisuke’s friendship with Ken has always come easily. It’s the lusting after your best friend part that’s hard.

He just didn’t realize how hard until Ken starts acting weird.

Now, Daisuke isn’t sure how long he can handle his BFF and roommate’s sudden attentions. At least, not without potentially ruining a 12-year friendship.

AO3 | FF.Net

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

DAISUKE

Friday, 10 p.m.

Normally, I'm all for horror movies. Normally, I'm the one who has to convince Ken—he continually insists he doesn't see the point in watching them, that the gory ones are over-the-top and ridiculous. To be fair, he also insists they never scare him, and we both know that's a blatant lie.

But tonight is not a normal night: For the first time ever, Ken picked a horror movie all on his own.

Worse, I can't even focus on the damn movie.

Because Ken is plastered to my side, clutching my shirt like it's going to protect him from the vengeful yurei on the screen, his breath hot against my arm as he buries his face in my shoulder. I'm struggling between amusement at his insistence he's not scared and arousal at his body flush against mine.

I clear my throat, trying to settle the unease in my stomach. "You know, it's been years since I saw this."

He nods against my shoulder, but he stays close, not daring to look up at.

Actually, now that I think about it, this is a movie I made him watch when we were kids. He stayed over for a sleepover during the summer break, and I brought out all the classics: Onibaba, Kuroneko, Ju-On: The Grudge, Battle Royale, and of course, Ringu—the film Ken put on tonight. I hadn't expected us to watch all the movies, but once we got started—Ringu was my first choice for the evening—Ken was too scared to go to sleep, so he just kept insisting we keep watching until we finished the last one at five thirty in the morning…and then he just kept talking because he refused to admit he was too scared to go to sleep. That was probably the first night I'd ever heard Ken talk so damn much.

I already had a bit of a thing for him by then, but that night solidified my feelings. After a night of lying close to him while he insisted he wasn't scared—while also burying himself under the blankets on the floor—I wasn't tired at all. Ken eventually passed out a little before eight and slept for a couple hours, but I was high from the close contact and the strange, disjointed conversation.

With a small smile, I allow my arm to fall around his narrow frame and tug him even closer.

Who knew Ken was sentimental about something like this? Why else would he choose to watch Ringu? Why else would he willingly subject himself to something he's always disliked?

He buries his face in my neck and takes a shaky breath. "Is it over yet?"

My chest trembles with laughter, and I rest my cheek against the top of his head. "There's still like forty minutes left. And what are you complaining about? You're the one who picked this movie."

Ken grumbles against my collarbone, indignant.

I'd laugh at him some more, but his sound sends a pleasant vibration through my body, and my fist clenches in the thin material of his gray T-shirt.

He shifts to look at the screen before twisting and turning to see it fully. Apparently, the creepy scene has ended, so Ken doesn't need me to protect him anymore—but then he settles back against me, even closer than before, his eyes focusing on the television, and I release an indulgent sigh and hold him tight.

Not long later, Ken jumps and buries his face in my chest again.

This time, I really can't help but laugh and poke him in the side good-naturedly—or bad-naturedly, considering how he startles and digs his fingers into my chest.

"Daisuke!" he yelps, leveling me with a glare.

I can't help the wicked grin at his reaction. "Really, Ichijouji, you make it too easy. If you weren't so damn entertaining, you wouldn't have anything to worry about." His over-the-top reaction has always been the best part of teasing him, of messing with him.

Ken's glare doesn't relax, but I fake a melodramatic yawn and turn back to the movie, daring him to do something about it.

Of course he takes the bait.

Few people can bring out Ken's competitive side—at least, off the soccer field—and I'm proud to say I'm one of them.

I grit my teeth when a finger jabs at my ribs. It tickles more than it hurts, but he knows that. That's exactly why he chose that location.

This time, I don't take my eyes off the screen as I poke him just under the ribs.

He yelps, even though he knew it was coming.

His retaliation is a hard pinch.

"Hey!"

He just sends me a little smirk. "Something wrong, Motomiya?"

Uh-oh. That's not good.

But that's what makes this so fun.

I shake my head and turn back to the movie, but having my arm wrapped around his shoulders makes it easy to flick his opposite ear.

His body tenses against me, but he doesn't complain otherwise. Or do anything else.

Five minutes later, just when I'm starting to relax again, a finger prods gently at my hip before sliding all the way up my side at a tantalizingly slow pace.

I inhale sharply, gasping at the inherently sensual touch.

A quick glance to my left reveals a proud little smile on his face as he focuses on a movie neither of us have been paying attention to for at least ten minutes.

My eyes narrow.

Well, if we're going to play dirty, you'll get no complaints from me.

I release a soft sigh, forcing my body to relax, then yank him closer and shove my hand up his loose tee to tickle his ribs. Even as he collapses in my arms in a fit of angry giggles, he retaliates, setting his own fingers on my ribs.

I won't often admit this, but it might be possible that I'm way more ticklish than Ken is. I refuse to accept this weakness. No matter how many times he shoves it in my face. Or ribs, as it were.

His laughter becomes stronger, victorious, as he gains the upper hand, but he should know better.

If there's one thing he should know about me, one thing anyone should know about it, it's that I don't know when to quit. I'm too damn stubborn to give in. And that applies whether we're facing an evil Digimon or going head to head in a tickle war.

His face is close—too close if I really thought about it—and I throw myself forward and sweep my tongue from his jaw, up the side of his face, to his forehead.

He shoves me away.

Success!

"Ugh, that's gross, Dai," he snaps, glaring at me.

I grin. "You started it."

His mouth ticks upward just a tinge, but he fixes it before it turns into an actual smile. "Technically, you did."

I shrug. "Semantics."

Ken scoffs. "Where did you learn that word, Motomiya?"

I shoot him a glare. "I listen when you talk." Even if I don't understand what he's saying, it's nice to listen to his voice.

Amusement tugs at his lips, but it's short-lived. All too soon, his mouth twists into a smirk—more defined and determined than any of the evening's previous smirks.

Shit.

That's a bad sign. A really bad sign.

I try to scoot away, but Ken's competitive side rears its ugly head. The next thing I know, he has my shoulders shoved into the cushion, my head twisted uncomfortably against the armrest, and Ken sits atop my lap like it's his throne.

"Really, Motomiya," he says, his voice high and smug, "you make it too easy." He leans over me, that sexy little smirk in place, his hands resting firmly on the armrest above my head, and his body shifts pleasantly on my lap. "Now, how to punish you?"

Oh, fuck.

This is not good.

If I don't figure out a way out of this, with his position and with that commanding tone, things are liable to get awkward fast. Especially if he keeps moving like that.

Thankfully, he doesn't weigh much and he's shown me plenty of judo moves throughout our friendship.

I give him one final moment—one mostly composed of him looking downright sexy while plotting my demise—then capture his right arm between us, trap his foot with my leg, and push my hips upward, sending us careening off the couch. We roll around the floor for a minute, each trying to gain the upper hand, but when it comes to sturdiness and hardiness, I have him beat every day of the week.

When we finally come to a stop, I have him flush against the floor, wrists pinned above his head, legs flattened under my weight. He's panting, cheeks bright red, and he stares up at me, eyes wide and dilated.

Yeah, this position isn't any better.

In fact, I'd wager my growing erection is a lot harder to hide in this position. And it doesn't help when Ken looks up at me with those big eyes and wets his lips with his entrancing tongue, pink despite the darkened room.

"Are you going to punish me now, Daisuke?" His voice is husky and quiet despite the loud movie.

How the hell does he manage to look this good?

I swallow, trying to wet my suddenly dry mouth and throat. I can't pull my eyes away from his.

There's nothing about Ken that isn't beautiful and sexy and perfect, and there's nothing I want to do more than press against him and kiss him with every fiber of my being, to worship every inch of his body.

The look on his face doesn't help either. He stares up at me with the deepest blue-violet eyes, like he can see into my very soul. Even now, I can feel our hearts beating as one.

His eyes dart down to my mouth, then back.

My breath hitches.

My supporting arms quiver.

I drop to my elbows, cutting the distance in half. "Ken," I murmur, dragging a hand to his cheek. My thumb traces the edge of his bottom lip, and with a shaky breath, his eyes flutter shut.

I want more than anything to kiss him, but trapping him so he can't escape is hardly an appropriate way to demonstrate my feelings. Besides, the last thing I should do is get caught up in the moment, especially since pressuring him into something he may not be ready for—may never be ready for—is the last thing I want to do. I mean, it's been twelve years—if he were interested, he should've said something by now. I should know.

I bite my lip, push away, and collapse onto the floor next to him with a long shaky sigh.

For a long moment, Ken lies beside me, his eyes still shut, breath ragged; then, he pushes up and stalks into the bathroom. The door closes harshly behind him.

Shit.

I drag myself back onto the couch and force my eyes to focus on the movie, but for the life of me, I can't register any of what's happening.

By the time he comes out, the credits are almost finished.

He doesn't bother coming back into the living room; instead, he downs a glass of water in the kitchen and says, "I'm heading to bed," before going to his room.

Dammit, this is not how the night was supposed to go.

[ladyanatui]

The Seduction of Motomiya Daisuke, Ch. 2 *A Daiken Fic*

Daisuke’s friendship with Ken has always come easily. It’s the lusting after your best friend part that’s hard.

He just didn’t realize how hard until Ken starts acting weird.

Now, Daisuke isn’t sure how long he can handle his BFF and roommate’s sudden attentions. At least, not without potentially ruining a 12-year friendship.

AO3 | FF.Net

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8,  9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

DAISUKE

Friday, 6 a.m.

Normally, when I get up on weekday mornings, I crawl into the shower to force myself to wake up.

Well, also to annoy the shit out of Ken, since he spends the whole time he's in the main bathroom area bitching about how bathing in the mornings doesn't make sense and how opening the partition between the shower and the vanity while I soak fogs up the room and limits his ability to get ready on time.

Oddly, this morning, the shower is already running when I stumble toward the bathroom.

Odder still, when the shower turns off, the sound of splashes indicate the person climbed into the bath.

Sure, Ken enjoys soaking as much as the next person, but he never bathes this early in the morning, especially on a weekday. It's not a problem for me because the ramen shop doesn't open till lunchtime, but Ken's usually out of the apartment for work and class by eight.

The only conclusion I see: Someone else is using our bath.

I stumble toward the main living space, but there's no sign that someone slept on the couch or the floor. I know no one slept in my room with me, obviously. So that leaves only one place a guest could sleep…

The idea that Ken had someone sleep over and didn't tell me makes my chest constrict, and I dash toward his closed door.

My knuckles rap against the wood firmer than strictly necessary.

When no answer comes, I knock harder.

Again, no response.

I try the knob—unlocked—and push my way inside, but the room is empty and, thankfully, I can't find any signs that someone slept over.

Unless they shared Ken's bed.

I can't breathe.

No, that's not an option.

He has to tell me if he has someone come over, right? That's not unreasonable, is it?

My eyes dart around the room, looking for any signs of the night's events. A sock or a strand of hair or a jockstrap out of place. Anything.

But Ken has always been weirdly organized, and he probably wouldn't allow a lover to make a mess of his room.

Since when is he sleeping with someone? And why the hell wouldn't he tell me? Are they dating? Is it a fling? A one-night stand? Who the hell is it?

Fuck, are they soaking together right now?

I exit the room, much surer on my feet now that I've been jolted awake, and storm into the bathroom, determination in every step.

But what if he's with someone? What am I supposed to do, drag the guy from the tub and throw him out of the apartment?

I sigh.

Ken would murder me. He may not be the Kaiser anymore, but there are still moments where he scares the shit out of me.

Weird. The bathroom mirror is fogged up at the edges and the room is hot and humid, and I can immediately see why:

The door to the shower and tub area is open.

There's a direct view of the tub user.

I release a sigh of relief when I realize there's only one person soaking in the tub and, judging from the arm dangling over the side of the tub, that person is definitely Ken.

The relief, though, fades when he lifts a toned but narrow leg from the water and stretches it high in the air. Then, he switches legs to stretch the other, and my eyes follow the line down to their natural conclusion. The bath salts hide anything under the water, but it doesn't take a genius to know what's underneath.

I stumble back, hitting the sink, and white knuckles grip the ceramic behind me.

I can't take my eyes off the tub area, even if I can't see where he lays his head, and when the water sloshes with movement and he releases a pleased sigh, I have to stifle a possessive growl.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Absolute fuck.

I want to tear off my clothes, dive headfirst into the tub, and have my fucking way with him. I want his soft sighs to shift to gasps and moans when I touch him, whimpers when I blow him, sobs when he calls out my name, screams when I finally allow him to come.

I take a breath, forcing myself to ignore the growing hard-on, and struggle toward the open door to the hallway and sanity. I need to get the fuck out of here before I do something I regret.

But even spending a good twenty minutes taking care of my not-so-little problem, prolonging it in an attempt to prevent it from, ahem, popping up again, doesn't prepare me for Ken's sharp gasp as I pass the bathroom on my way toward the kitchen.

"Dammit."

I frown. What's wrong?

"Hey, Motomiya?" he calls out.

I freeze, not wanting him to realize I'm literally right here. He might think I was spying while he bathed…which would be technically true, just not right now.

"Motomiya?" he tries again.

This time, I force myself to move and poke my head inside the bathroom. "You need something?" I ask, eyes darting toward the tub.

His head and shoulder extend out of the tub where I can see him, and his face quickly shifts into a relieved smile. Seductive rivulets of water slide down his throat and chest. "Thank goodness. I must've still been so asleep earlier because I forgot to grab a change of clothes or even a towel." He laughs, his cheeks pinkening more from his amusement than the heat, and he looks utterly beautiful. "Could you grab one for me?"

"Uh…" I clear my throat. "You want me to grab you clothes?"

He laughs again, and a sly smile quirks one side of his mouth. "Just a towel, silly."

I swallow before retreating to the nearby closet to grab a ridiculously soft, seafoam-green towel, and when I march it over to him, a long, slender arm is all that reaches for the towel.

Then, I stand there like the complete moron I am and watch his shadow as he rises from the water and pats his delicate upper body dry.

A moment later, he steps out of the tub into the shower area, the towel already wrapped around his waist, turns around, and slips out onto the mat only a couple feet away. He raises an eyebrow at finding me still hovering in the bathroom, but he simply makes sure the low-sitting towel is secure at his hips and runs a hand through his still dripping hair.

But he pauses after a cursory glance over me, and he bites his lip to hide any amusement as he inclines his head. "Is that the reason your showers take so long, Motomiya?"

Fuck.

Jerking off was supposed to solve this problem, but wearing nothing but a pair of knit boxers, my returned "morning wood"—let me at least pretend it's a part of my natural sleep cycle, dammit—is beyond obvious.

Heat rises to my face, but what the hell am I supposed to say to that?

Especially when the mere fact that he looked, that he noticed, that he commented on my erection, causes my arousal to spike and my cock to ache.

Ken smiles serenely before brushing past me and out of the room.

[ao3feed-mythology]

Like You Mean It

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2TENrKr

by Darkrealmist

A private ritual between Hikari Netto and Hikawa Tohru grows into something neither of them expected.

Words: 917, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Rockman.EXE | Mega Man Battle Network, Rockman | Mega Man - All Media Types, Japanese Mythology, Hindu Religions & Lore, Greek and Roman Mythology, Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02, Digimon - All Media Types

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Underage

Categories: M/M

Characters: Hikari Netto | Lan Hikari, Hikawa Tohru | Tory Froid, Laika | Raika (Rockman.EXE), Maha Jarama | Yahoot, Rockman.EXE | MegaMan.EXE, Iceman.EXE, Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya, Takaishi Takeru | T.K. Takaishi, Wallace | Willis, Bubbleman.EXE

Relationships: Hikari Netto | Lan Hikari/Hikawa Tohru | Tory Froid

Additional Tags: Acceptance, Accidents, Adult Content, Affection, Aged-Up Character(s), Ambushes and Sneak Attacks, Anger, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anime, Apologies, Arguing, Asian Character(s), Awkward Boners, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkward Tension, Bargaining, Battle, Bedrooms, Bedroom Sex, Beds, Beginnings, Belonging, Best Friends, Beverages, Bickering, Bi-Curiosity, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Character of Color, Bisexual Male Character, Blackouts, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Blushing, Body Worship, Bonding, Boners, Boundaries, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Boys' Love, Breasts, Budding Love, Canon Character of Color, Card Games, Changing Tenses, Character(s) of Color, Childhood Friends, Child Soldiers, Clothed Sex, Clothing Kink, Coats, Coercion, Coffee, Come as Lube, Comedy, Come Eating, Comeplay, Come Sharing, Come Shot, Come Swallowing, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Coming of Age, Coming Out, Communication, Compare and Contrast, Competency, Competition, Complete, Computers, Confessions, Consensual, Consensual Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Courage, Cross-cultural, Cruelty, Crushes, Crying, Cultural References, Curiosity, Curry, Cussing, Cute, Cute Ending, Cute Kids, Cybersex, Daydreaming, Declarations Of Love, Denial, Depression, Desire, Developing Relationship, Devotion, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Discipline, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Dorkiness, Double Entendre, Doubt, Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, Duelling, Eavesdropping, Education, Embarrassment, Emotional, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotions, Endearments, Episode Related, Erections, Erotica, Escapism, Euphemisms, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Exams, Exhaustion, Exhibitionism, Experimentation, Explanations, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Exploration, Exposure, Eye Contact, Eyes, Falling In Love, Fanfiction, Fanservice, Fantasizing, Fantasy, Fantasy Fulfillment, Fantasy Sex, Fear, Feeding, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Feels, Fever Dreams, Feral Behavior, Ficlet, Fights, Flashbacks, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Ending, Food, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Food Metaphors, Force-Feeding, Foreplay, Forgiveness, French Kissing, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Fuckbuddies, Fun, Funny, Games, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Gentle Kissing, Gentleness, Gluttony, Gods, Growing Up, Guilt, Guilty Pleasures, Hair, Happy, Happy Ending, Hardcore, Heartache, Hero Worship, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hinduism, Honesty, Hoodies, Hook-Up, Hope, Homework, Homoeroticism, Honey, Hormones, Horny Teenagers, Hot, Hot Sex, Humiliation, Humor, Humorous Ending, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Ice, Idols, Imagination, Inappropriate Behavior, Inappropriate Erections, Indian Character, In-Jokes, Innocence, Insecurity, Inspired by Art, Internal Monologue, Internet, Intimacy, Introversion, Invasion of Privacy, Japanese Character(s), Japanese Culture, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Joyful, Judgment, Kindness, Kissing, Laughter, Laughter During Sex, Laundry, Lemon, LGBTQ Character of Color, Licking, Lies, Loss of Control, Loss of Innocence, Love, Love Confessions, Love Stories, Loyalty, Lust, Making Love, Making Out, Making Up, Male Bonding, Male Character of Color, Male Protagonist, Male Slash, Manipulation, Masturbation, Mathematics, Meddling, Meta, Metaphors, Military, Military Science Fiction, Mind Games, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Character(s), Mischief, Misunderstandings, Multiple Orgasms, Muscles, Mutual Pining, Naughtiness, Naughty, Negotiations, Nervousness, Nipples, Nonverbal Communication, Nostalgia, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Nudity, Oblivious, One Shot, One True Pairing, Orgasm, OTP Feels, Pain, Parental Instinct, Partial Nudity, Past Underage, Past Underage Sex, Paternal Instinct, Penises, Penis Measuring, Personal Growth, Perversion, Photographs, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn Magazines, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Post-Canon, POV First Person, POV Male Character, Power Outage, Premarital Sex, Pride, Protectiveness, Psychological Warfare, Punishment, Puns & Word Play, Queer Youth, Questioning, Rare Characters, Rare Pairings, Realization, References to Canon, References to Depression, Regret, Relationship Discussions, Relationship Issues, Reminiscing, Retrospective, Rituals, Romance, Romantic Angst, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Sappy, Sarcasm, Scheming, School, Schoolboys, Science, Science Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Secret Admirer, Secret Crush, Secrets, Seduction, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem, Self-Esteem Issues, Sensuality, Sex, Sex Games, Sexism, Sex Talk, Sexual Coercion, Sexual Content, Sexual Experimentation, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Inexperience, Sexuality, Sexual Metaphors, Sexual Orientation, Sexual Tension, Sexy Times, Shame, Shameless Smut, Sharing, Shinto, Shock, Shoe Kink, Shoes, Short, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Shorts (Clothing), Shounen-ai, Showing Off, Shyness, Simultaneous Orgasm, Slash, Smut, Sneakiness, Sneaking Around, Snow, Snow and Ice, Soldiers, Some Humor, Sticky, Strategy & Tactics, Strip Tease, Study Date, Studying, Surprise Kissing, Surprises, Surprise Sex, Swearing, Sweat, Sweet, Teaching, Tears, Teasing, Technology, Teenage Drama, Teenagers, Teen Angst, Teen Crush, Teen Romance, Temptation, Third Wheels, Tongues, Touching, True Love, Tutoring, Uncircumcised Penis, Underage Masturbation, Underage Sex, Understanding, Underwear, Underwear Kink, Undressing, Unexpected Visitors, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Urban Fantasy, Virginity, Voyeurism, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Watching, Wet Clothing, Wish Fulfillment, Wordcount: 100-1.000, Wordcount: 500-1.000, Wordcount: Under 10.000, Worry, Young Love

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2TENrKr

[ao3feed-mythology]

Like You Mean It

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2TENrKr

by Darkrealmist

A private ritual between Hikari Netto and Hikawa Tohru grows into something neither of them expected.

Words: 917, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Rockman.EXE | Mega Man Battle Network, Rockman | Mega Man - All Media Types, Japanese Mythology, Hindu Religions & Lore, Greek and Roman Mythology, Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02, Digimon - All Media Types

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Underage

Categories: M/M

Characters: Hikari Netto | Lan Hikari, Hikawa Tohru | Tory Froid, Laika | Raika (Rockman.EXE), Maha Jarama | Yahoot, Rockman.EXE | MegaMan.EXE, Iceman.EXE, Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya, Takaishi Takeru | T.K. Takaishi, Wallace | Willis, Bubbleman.EXE

Relationships: Hikari Netto | Lan Hikari/Hikawa Tohru | Tory Froid

Additional Tags: Acceptance, Accidents, Adult Content, Affection, Aged-Up Character(s), Ambushes and Sneak Attacks, Anger, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anime, Apologies, Arguing, Asian Character(s), Awkward Boners, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkward Tension, Bargaining, Battle, Bedrooms, Bedroom Sex, Beds, Beginnings, Belonging, Best Friends, Beverages, Bickering, Bi-Curiosity, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Character of Color, Bisexual Male Character, Blackouts, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Blushing, Body Worship, Bonding, Boners, Boundaries, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Boys' Love, Breasts, Budding Love, Canon Character of Color, Card Games, Changing Tenses, Character(s) of Color, Childhood Friends, Child Soldiers, Clothed Sex, Clothing Kink, Coats, Coercion, Coffee, Come as Lube, Comedy, Come Eating, Comeplay, Come Sharing, Come Shot, Come Swallowing, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Coming of Age, Coming Out, Communication, Compare and Contrast, Competency, Competition, Complete, Computers, Confessions, Consensual, Consensual Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Courage, Cross-cultural, Cruelty, Crushes, Crying, Cultural References, Curiosity, Curry, Cussing, Cute, Cute Ending, Cute Kids, Cybersex, Daydreaming, Declarations Of Love, Denial, Depression, Desire, Developing Relationship, Devotion, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Discipline, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Dorkiness, Double Entendre, Doubt, Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, Duelling, Eavesdropping, Education, Embarrassment, Emotional, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotions, Endearments, Episode Related, Erections, Erotica, Escapism, Euphemisms, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Exams, Exhaustion, Exhibitionism, Experimentation, Explanations, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Exploration, Exposure, Eye Contact, Eyes, Falling In Love, Fanfiction, Fanservice, Fantasizing, Fantasy, Fantasy Fulfillment, Fantasy Sex, Fear, Feeding, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Feels, Fever Dreams, Feral Behavior, Ficlet, Fights, Flashbacks, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Ending, Food, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Food Metaphors, Force-Feeding, Foreplay, Forgiveness, French Kissing, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Fuckbuddies, Fun, Funny, Games, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Gentle Kissing, Gentleness, Gluttony, Gods, Growing Up, Guilt, Guilty Pleasures, Hair, Happy, Happy Ending, Hardcore, Heartache, Hero Worship, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hinduism, Honesty, Hoodies, Hook-Up, Hope, Homework, Homoeroticism, Honey, Hormones, Horny Teenagers, Hot, Hot Sex, Humiliation, Humor, Humorous Ending, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Ice, Idols, Imagination, Inappropriate Behavior, Inappropriate Erections, Indian Character, In-Jokes, Innocence, Insecurity, Inspired by Art, Internal Monologue, Internet, Intimacy, Introversion, Invasion of Privacy, Japanese Character(s), Japanese Culture, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Joyful, Judgment, Kindness, Kissing, Laughter, Laughter During Sex, Laundry, Lemon, LGBTQ Character of Color, Licking, Lies, Loss of Control, Loss of Innocence, Love, Love Confessions, Love Stories, Loyalty, Lust, Making Love, Making Out, Making Up, Male Bonding, Male Character of Color, Male Protagonist, Male Slash, Manipulation, Masturbation, Mathematics, Meddling, Meta, Metaphors, Military, Military Science Fiction, Mind Games, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Character(s), Mischief, Misunderstandings, Multiple Orgasms, Muscles, Mutual Pining, Naughtiness, Naughty, Negotiations, Nervousness, Nipples, Nonverbal Communication, Nostalgia, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Nudity, Oblivious, One Shot, One True Pairing, Orgasm, OTP Feels, Pain, Parental Instinct, Partial Nudity, Past Underage, Past Underage Sex, Paternal Instinct, Penises, Penis Measuring, Personal Growth, Perversion, Photographs, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn Magazines, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Post-Canon, POV First Person, POV Male Character, Power Outage, Premarital Sex, Pride, Protectiveness, Psychological Warfare, Punishment, Puns & Word Play, Queer Youth, Questioning, Rare Characters, Rare Pairings, Realization, References to Canon, References to Depression, Regret, Relationship Discussions, Relationship Issues, Reminiscing, Retrospective, Rituals, Romance, Romantic Angst, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Sappy, Sarcasm, Scheming, School, Schoolboys, Science, Science Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Secret Admirer, Secret Crush, Secrets, Seduction, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem, Self-Esteem Issues, Sensuality, Sex, Sex Games, Sexism, Sex Talk, Sexual Coercion, Sexual Content, Sexual Experimentation, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Inexperience, Sexuality, Sexual Metaphors, Sexual Orientation, Sexual Tension, Sexy Times, Shame, Shameless Smut, Sharing, Shinto, Shock, Shoe Kink, Shoes, Short, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Shorts (Clothing), Shounen-ai, Showing Off, Shyness, Simultaneous Orgasm, Slash, Smut, Sneakiness, Sneaking Around, Snow, Snow and Ice, Soldiers, Some Humor, Sticky, Strategy & Tactics, Strip Tease, Study Date, Studying, Surprise Kissing, Surprises, Surprise Sex, Swearing, Sweat, Sweet, Teaching, Tears, Teasing, Technology, Teenage Drama, Teenagers, Teen Angst, Teen Crush, Teen Romance, Temptation, Third Wheels, Tongues, Touching, True Love, Tutoring, Uncircumcised Penis, Underage Masturbation, Underage Sex, Understanding, Underwear, Underwear Kink, Undressing, Unexpected Visitors, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Urban Fantasy, Virginity, Voyeurism, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Watching, Wet Clothing, Wish Fulfillment, Wordcount: 100-1.000, Wordcount: 500-1.000, Wordcount: Under 10.000, Worry, Young Love

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2TENrKr

[ao3feed-mythology]

The Blond Factor

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2ALR5v8

by Darkrealmist

While on a trip to New York, Takaishi Takeru punishes his boyfriend for badmouthing him by flirting with their American guide, Michael Barton. Motomiya Daisuke believes he has the most astounding comeback, but it backfires epically. [Post-Digimon Adventure 02, pre-Digimon Adventure tri.]

Words: 1011, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02, Digimon Adventure tri., Digimon - All Media Types, Looney Tunes | Merrie Melodies, Schneewittchen | Snow White (Fairy Tale), Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937), Snow White - All Media Types, Cinderella (Fairy Tale), Cinderella (1950), Cinderella - All Media Types, Sleeping Beauty (Fairy Tale), Sleeping Beauty (1959), Sleeping Beauty - All Media Types, Powerpuff Girls, Demashitaa! Powerpuff Girls Z

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya, Takaishi Takeru | T.K. Takaishi, Michael (Digimon), Tachikawa Mimi, Inoue Miyako | Yolei Inoue, Wallace | Willis, Chosen Children | DigiDestined, Motomiya Jun, Michel J. Barton, Ishida Hiroaki, Goddramon, Monochromon, Devimon (Adventure), Angemon (Adventure), Road Runner, Wile E. Coyote, Prince Charming (Cinderella), Prince Charming (Disney), Rowdyruff Boys, Brick (PPG), Boomer (PPG), Butch (PPG)

Relationships: Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya/Takaishi Takeru | T.K. Takaishi, Takaishi Takeru | T.K. Takaishi/Michael (Digimon), Takaishi Takeru | T.K. Takaishi/Wallace | Willis

Additional Tags: Absent Characters, Acceptance, Acting, Affection, Affectionate Insults, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambushes and Sneak Attacks, Americana, Americanisms, Angels, Anger, Animal Metaphors, Animals, Anime, Apologies, Arguing, Asian Character(s), Athletes, Awkwardness, Bad Decisions, Bad Ideas, Baristas, Bars and Pubs, Belonging, Betrayal, Bickering, Big Sisters, Birds, Bishounen, Blue Eyes, Blushing, Bonding, Boundaries, Boyfriends, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Boys' Love, Broadway, Broadway References, Bromance, Brother-Sister Relationships, Budding Love, Canon Character of Color, Cartoon Physics, Celebrities, Celebrity Crush, Cell Phones, Chairs, Challenge Accepted, Character(s) of Color, Chauvinism, Cheating, Childhood Friends, Choking, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Cinderella Elements, Clinging, Coffee, Coffee Shops, Comedy, Comfort, Communication, Compare and Contrast, Competition, Complete, Conversations, Criticism, Cross-cultural, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cruelty, Crushes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cultural Differences, Cultural References, Culture Shock, Cute, Cute Ending, Cute Kids, Dating, Daydreaming, Denial, Developing Relationship, Devils, Devotion, Dialect, Discrimination, Domestic Violence, Drama, Drama & Romance, Drinking & Talking, During Canon, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Embarrassment, Emotional, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotions, Endearments, Established Relationship, Evil Laughter, Eyebrows, Eye Color, Eyes, Fairy Tale Elements, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fake Science, Fame, Fanfiction, Fans, Fanservice, Feelings, Feels, Female Character of Color, Female Protagonist, Fights, Fist Fights, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluffy Ending, Football | Soccer, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Fun, Funny, Games, Game Shows, Gay Male Character, Gods, Hair, Hair Washing, Happy, Happy Ending, Holding Hands, Hollywood, Honesty, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Hot, Hugs, Humor, Humorous Ending, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Impersonation, Impression, Infidelity, Inheritance, In-Jokes, Innocence, Insecurity, Insults, Japanese Character(s), Jealousy, Joyful, Judgment, Kissing, Language Barrier, Laughter, LGBTQ Character of Color, Light-Hearted, Looney Tunes References, Love, Love Stories, Loyalty, Male Antagonist, Male Bonding, Male Character of Color, Male Protagonist, Male Slash, Manipulation, Meddling, Metaphors, Mind Games, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Character(s), Mischief, Mistakes, Money, Monologue, Monsters, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Partners, Narcissism, New York, New York City, Nicknames, Noogies, Nostalgia, Not Cheating, Oblivious, One Shot, One True Pairing, OTP Feels, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Pain, Paparazzi, Partner Betrayal, Performing Arts, Pet Names, Phone Calls & Telephones, Plans, Plans For The Future, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Play Fighting, Possessive Behavior, Power Dynamics, Powerpuff Girls References, Prayer, Pre-Epilogue, Pretending to Be Gay, Pride, Princes & Princesses, Psychological Torture, Psychological Warfare, Public Display of Affection, Punishment, Queer Youth, Racism, Rare Characters, Rare Pairings, References to Canon, Relationship Discussions, Relationship Issues, Relationship Problems, Reminiscing, Repression, Restaurants, Reunions, Revenge, Rivalry, Roleplay, Role Reversal, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Roughhousing, Sappy, Sappy Ending, Sarcasm, Scheming, Schoolboys, Seduction, Sexism, Sexy, Shame, Sharing, Sharing Clothes, Shock, Shounen-ai, Shout-outs, Showing Off, Sibling Rivalry, Silence, Slash, Sleep, Sleeping Beauty Elements, Sneakiness, Snow White Elements, Spooning, Sports, Stage Gay, Stereotypes, Strategy & Tactics, Substitution, Surprise Kissing, Surprises, Sweet, Talking, Talking Animals, Team, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team Feels, Team Fluff, Team Up, Teasing, Technology, Theatre, Third Wheels, Threats, Touching, Touring, Tourism, Travel, Understanding, Vacation, Villains, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Watching, Wealth, Whipped Cream, Wordcount: Over 1.000, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Wordcount: Under 10.000, World Travel, Worry, Wrestling, Young Love

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2ALR5v8