#woke up late & forgot this was dropping- whoopsies

[liyazaki]

the day after tomorrow & the following days, I’ll continue to tell you that I love you.

GAP the series | official trailer

[mari-the-bimbo]

PLS — DON’T LEAVE US HANGING

I just love your dorm mate Geto series, there will be other parts? Plsplspls

Dorm mate Geto: Just friends pt. 3

A/N: OKAY OKAY FORGIVE ME YA’LL!! At first I just wanted part 2 to marinate a lil you know? Then I forgot to post whoopsie! Also in my defence I was depressed over jjk new chapter leaks 😭 Enjoy! <3

It’s 8pm in the morning when you woke up and made some breakfast in the quiet dorm kitchen. The sunlight seeps through the window as you munch on some cereal.

“Bit early for a Saturday don’t you think doll?” A honey-laced voice teases from behind.

You turn around to see Geto. The usual mischievous dark coloured eyes which stared at you adoringly. His tall, broad figure towers over you, and his hands in his pockets but you can’t focus, all you could think about yesterdays confessions and kisses.

“Well good morning to you too” you tease back before placing your bowl in the sink about to walk away. He chuckles at your quick wit, he can’t help but swoon over you.

Until his large hand stops you by simply grabbing your mid section.

“Where you do think you’re going doll? I said we’re going to talk later remember?” He says like a demand but his tone is still so soft, causing butterflies in your stomach. “B-but Gojo is still here-“ you say, suddenly losing the last drop of the confident facade you had left.

“He’s still asleep after his late night. It’s just you and me doll” he reasons, unwilling to let you slip away out of his arms again. He sits at the dining table, one hand tugs on your hand, and the other pats his thigh, urging you to sit on his lap.

“Geto..”

“don’t be shy with me. You know I’m all yours y/n” he rasps as he stares into your eyes, making you grow hot and bothered, nevertheless you comply. You sit on his lap and he lets out a relaxing hum as your butt rests on his thighs.

“How you feeling after yesterday?” He asks like a whisper in your ear, rubbing your upper arm to help ease it out of you.

“I feel okay” you say, keeping it brief, even though you knew you could probably write a whole essay about it. But so did Geto.

“I need you to feel more than okay hun” he says so sweetly, making your stomach stir again.

You sigh, knowing Geto knew you too well. “Well I guess I still feel a bit bitter about you with other girls but I understand it’s not your fault because you thought your feelings were one sided.”

He nods empathetically, he’s always been so mature. You watch a strand of his black hair fall out of his hair bun, “those girls will never mean what you mean to me. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that’s what it takes.”

“It’s not been easy having feelings for you since the day I met you, you know?” He adds, and your mouth slightly opens at his confession. Sure, you’ve liked him for a long time too, but you can’t imagine how painful it must’ve been pining for the same person since the day you met them.

He laughs softly at your reaction, his hand playfully grabbing your chin to close your mouth. “Don’t worry, it was all worth it in the end right? Don’t feel bad” he said as if he read your mind.

Your eyes soften, asking him the same question you asked last night before he kissed you. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you ask, your frail cold fingers touching his face, you feel him relax against it. “I guess I was scared that you wouldn’t like me back” he admits with a sad smile which felt unusual on the usually confident secure man.

“Well that’s not true. I like you…a lot” you say, causing him to give you the cheesiest handsome smile. “Yeah? I like you a lot too” he says, kissing your fingers, both of you dancing around the word ‘love’.

“Then are you gonna kiss me or what?” You say impatiently with a cute pout, he chuckles at your princess behaviour before pulling you closer by grabbing your cheeks with his one large hand, taking advantage of the size difference, pressing his lips against yours. His lips feverishly move against yours. He pulls away for a second to let you gasp for air before attacking your lips once again.

You’re dizzy when you pull away from the handsome man who cuddled you in his lap, your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders. All you can smell is his musky woody scent and all you can feel is his wet lips on your jaw.

“Y/n?” He murmurs against your skin, “yeah?” You ask breathlessly.

“I love you”

Your eyes widened as you felt your heart beat hundred times faster. You pull away only enough to see his face again, his eyes are genuine as he stares up at you as if you’re an angel.

“I love you too pretty boy” you say, playing with his black ear studs shyly.

He feels happy yet so smug at the same time. “Yeah? What do you love about me the most?” He asks with a smirk.

“Free barista”

He laughs so joyfully at your answer, and he looks so pretty as he does it. Geto genuinely doesn’t mind if that really is the reason you love him, he’s happily make coffee for you for the rest of his life.

“Good, that means you’re all mine”

You suddenly feel shy at his words, choosing to mess with his ear stud again. “You really love me huh?” You ask, with a hopeful smile, anything to hear him say it again.

“Oh doll, you have no idea” he says as he tucks your hair strand behind you ear, kissing your cheeks.

“C’mon now” he says patting your butt, “lemme make my princess some coffee”

[pernatius]

Lost in Space Part 9: Ch 4

Previous

Summary: Syco and the unnamed Space Explorer question their choices.

Lost in Space on Tumblr

Lost in Space on ao3

“Human,” he exclaimed. A book, which is angled against the wall he tried hiding behind, began to wobble. It shook as if an earthquake had suddenly slammed against the library. Then, it flew into his hand. Its spine is the first to make contact. Its cover and back come next with the gripping of his hand. Fearful one moment and as irritated as the Lord in the next, he pulls his hand back. He threw the book, but it was halted from its destination, my face, with the Lord’s dexterity. Their contact sounded like Cala rose from the grave and made his return by crashing through the library’s one window, breaking the metal bars encasing it, and into the library itself. Cracks all around, a massive crater, and the rise and eventual fall of the millions of books and us. Because of how close I am to the handrail, I would fall into the hole and instantly be deleted from there if the library did not just collapse in on itself before then. 

“My intentions are to understand and bring understanding. I usually see no point in violence. It almost always turns out to be a waste of my time. That being said, if I have to discipline, then I will do so. Do not forget you are before a Lord.”

He bows and continues with, “I-I...forgot my place. Forgive me, Lord.”

“Most importantly, you are before me. Compared to the other Lords, I am the least patient. Do not test that. So, speak unless spoken to and do no more. How many of you are out there fighting against the rebellion?”

“Currently, a little more than four hundred, Lord.”

“Interesting. I will be blunt with the following because I want this done as soon as possible. It is rare for me to find a day like this one. The Lords have long comprehended what is happening. They know of your efforts, and if they knew you were here, they would thank you. That is why I am going to hand you this book.” One golden mist engulfing their hand later, and a book, far thicker than the many others I have glimpsed, lays flat on the hand. The Lord hands it to, at first, the hesitant anti-rebellion member who nearly drops it because of its weight. “This should be all you need to know. Now off with you.”

He reads the title and shakes with excitement. His hands turn page after page before the Lord repeats themselves. He scampers away but glares in my direction before leaving.

“The Lords have grown lazy. True, they have slacked before, but now it has become completely unacceptable. After thousands of years, they still believe mortals are primitive. This is why they have not done anything to quell the anarchists but instead use the same things they claim are beneath them to do their work. Their hands would not get dirty, sure, but it would send the wrong message. It will give people a reason to question.”

“Then.” I gulp. I gulp twice. I think of words. I make a sentence or two in my head. I think of things to say, but nothing comes out. Was the Lord's whole body glowing? They looked ironically heavenly. “Why did you let them go with that book?”

“Why did I help further the agenda of something I so clearly detest? Well, one reason is that I want to give them what they want. I want them to feel a moment of success, but I also want them to realize the consequences of their actions. They will beg for my forgiveness. Hopefully, finally, respect me after. The next I will not say, but I can say the last is, funny enough, one of their reasons. This will be interesting.

“Now, I no longer need your presence. Be off as well.”

Up above, three moons lit up the night sky. I bathe in their light. They shine on the dusty books around me as well. They sparkle. They look fantastical, magical. I would look heavenly if this body was not made from binary code. If I was, I would not feel heavenly. Heaven. Hell. Two different places, both used to explain what happens after death. The good go to Heaven, and the bad go to Hell. They help explain the universe to many, but it just leaves more questions to be asked. Like why should we be judged for things He could have prevented? Why must we suffer for caring about the wrong things?

Four hundred. There are four hundred just like Sakhra’s ex-brother. There is also the rebellion and what Sakhra has in store. The war continues from beyond that window. Casualties, thousands of them. Trillions are in the middle of it as they have yet to choose their side. I am not sure what to make of the Lord perched up and walking along the slender handrail that is barely the width of one of his feet. Essentially a war on all sides, one that I instigated. I started this, but I am not sure how to end it. 

The Lord, now the biggest person I know, danced along the handrail. They spun, raised one of their legs, and jumped. Lots of leg movements. They pranced. They were delicate, even more, delicate from the long-gone cloaked man. A beautiful show, but it is a warning. They are balanced, and I am not.

I did not know I dozed off. I woke up to Saamuki softly calling out to me and blinking my eyes open to her waving her blurry hand across my face. I said something, but I think it came out as a mumble, stutter, and a ramble all at once because she takes a moment to respond with, “I finally found what I was looking for. I found this secret room first, and then bam, I found this. Would you want to take a look?”

“Sure,” I slurred out. 

It is still night, but only one moon lit up the night sky. I must have been asleep for a while, but I am still sleepy. I nearly dropped the heavy book she handed to me. We both fumble with it until I get a grip on it. “Ha. Ha. Ha. Whoopsie. I think we should head back in case I get butterfingers again, and the book actually drops this time.”

“Agreed.”

That woke me up. Back on the ship with the book remaining in my hand, I tighten my grip on it. Should I tell the others that I met one of the Lords? Should I tell Syco? I thought about it until Saamuki brought my attention to the absent Shiitakee. He is nowhere in the room. 

Both of us think it is unusual, but it is Saamuki that voices our concern. “Weird,” she turns to me, “Do you know where he could have possibly gone?”

I am about to reply, but I am cut off by the shout of two distinct voices that seem to be coming from the end of the hallway. We do not hesitate to follow the sounds. 

“You bastard,” Syco shouted. Who he is shouting at is unclear, as his and a handful of crewmates’ backs are facing towards us. The two of us, Saamuki and I, squeeze past them. Most do not mind. The second-in-command looks at us with a frown. We ignore and try to look over Syco’s massive figure. 

Shiitakee, who is the one being shouted at and has acquired a black eye in the time we separated, replies with, “Syco, I have known you since the beginning. We know each other better than anyone else, so you have to know what I am doing is for you. You are not well. You keep making rash decisions.”

“You dare to use our friendship right here, right now, after what you have done? How long have you been plotting against me?“ His black-eyed friend looks away. Ex-friend now? Spy, obviously. “I said how long, Shiitakee. How long?”

“Six months ago when your predecessor was killed. Supposedly, he was,” the black-eyed spy blurted out.

“And what do you mean by that last statement?” 

“I know what you are doing to him. It is sick, Syco. Sick! You need help. You know I am right. You had a feeling I would do this because you let her join your little meeting. I have known you far longer than her, but you have never let me come with you. I should not be surprised, considering you never listen to me. You fear for my advisement.” Syco's ex-friend grew heartbroken. “Listen, I wished this did not have to come to this. At first, for some time, I did not want to do this.”

Interjecting, I asked, “What are you two talking about? What happened?”

Syco, still eyeing Shiitakee, ignores my question. Instead, it is his second-in-command that elaborates, “Commander Syco found out Shiitakee has been backstabbing him. Shiitakee has been sending information to our enemies about the commander's plans for years. Recently, which is how Commander Syco found out, he sent the schematics of our ship.”

“Tell me why I should not send you out an airlock?”

“Because I would survive.”

“I do not care whether you do or not. I just want you gone, far away from me, and I want you to suffer. Grab him and send him out the closest airlock.”

Those around us, Tauvoxes besides Syco and his second-in-command, head towards Shiitakee. Shiitakee, determined, with a fighting spirit, refuses to be captured so easily. He dodges their reaching arms, and with both of his hands, he punches. Two stumble back, but two come forward to confront him. They swing, which Shiitakee dodges by lowering, but the two kick in unison. Their knees smash his face. His back hits the wall, and he gets less than a second to relax before the two come at him with their horns. They pierce into him. I squirm at this, and I meet Saamuki’s eyes. He spits out blood before several holes appear on his cap. They open wide. 

“Fools, get out of the way,” Syco told his men, but it is much too late before they realize it. The gas, this time red, quickly spreads around them, causing the two Tauvoxes to immediately pluck their horns out as they stumble away and cough. One of them pukes. The two in the back try to crawl away, but it is soon too late for them too. They cough as the rest of us try to get away. We do, but Shiitakee flees. 

While Shiitakee can go one way, we are forced to take the other. It was a longer route, though, so we met him almost too late. He has his hands on an escape pod, but he does not know how to use it. If he did, he would have been gone by now. 

“Shiitakee, open this door right now! Stop being a coward and face me.” He can not hear Syco even as Syco pounds his fists on the escape room’s door, but I think he sensed a few eyes on him because he turns away from the pod and jumps. The spy frantically presses buttons. When that fails to work, tries to move the pod by pushing it towards an airlock. Saamuki and I are bystanders, not sure of what to do. The second-in-command does not join this role as he gets out a screen and proceeds to try to unlock the door. It is after the third attempt that Syco slams himself against the door, hoping to break it down. Right when he is about to hit the door for the fifth time, the other Tauvox unlocks the door. Syco tumbles to the floor, which the smaller of the two apologizes for, but Syco ignores and presses towards his ex-friend. He gets a punch on Shiitakee, and when he is going for a second, the vegetation binds his hands together. They rapidly grow, lengthening. It creates a shield, protecting him from the punch, but it does not protect him from Syco striking above him. A headbutt from Syco towards Shiitakee’s cap and the mushroom humanoid falls to the ground. 

[mindless-self-pudding]

Secret Secrets

this is just me farting out an idea ive had for a while lmao; i hope its coherent

TW SMOKING; TW UNDERAGE DRINKING

(while both characters r 18 they still cannot legally drink; also ooooo colored font C8)

---

Mondo was jostled awake at 2 a.m. by the incessant, shrill ringing of his phone. As he rubbed his fingers over his still exhausted eyes and cursed himself for picking the most irritating ringtone on the planet, he grabbed the device and briefly glanced at the caller I.D. Surprisingly, it was Ito Mitsuo. Mondo knew all too well that his friend hated talking on the phone...something must be up. His worried heart woke him more as his thumb tapped on the screen to answer the call. "Ito...?" he mumbled, voice hoarse and soaked with sleep.

"Heeeeyyy, Ōwadaaaa..."

Well, Ito didn't SOUND like he was in trouble. In fact, it almost seemed like he was sort of giddy. Mondo couldn't keep the sigh in his mouth from coming out. If this was some kind of crank call, he'd be pissed. "What're you doin', callin' me this fuckin late...?"

"I gotta...like...I gotta ask a biiiiig favor."

"Which is...?"

"Can y'come pick me up? I ain't seen a cab inna min'."

A cab? "Jesus Christ, what are you doin' out?" Mondo said with a start, sitting bolt upright beneath his sheets. They weren't supposed to be outside the campus at night, especially not this late, and if Ito was anything, he was afraid of getting caught breaking the rules. He heard his friend huff on the other end in response.

"Nunya. Now, please...can you, like, super-de-duper hurry? It's starting to raaaain..."

Shit, what was he supposed to do? He couldn't just let his friend be stranded somewhere in town. "Fuck, fine. Just text me the address." He swore he heard Ito giggle before the line went dead.

Mondo let out an annoyed grunt as he wildly slapped his hand on the bedside table in search of a hair tie. This really wasn't like Ito. Mondo, personally, had snuck off campus more times than he could count, but he was close enough to his friend to know that this was really, really uncharacteristic.

As he slipped his loafers on and swiped his motorcycle key from the table drawer, his phone let out a text tone. Then another. And another. Tonight was certainly going to be at least interesting.

-------

The building was a step above a shack, probably one of the oldest izayakas Mondo had ever seen. He could almost taste the liquor in the air around it. From the looks of the one guy outside, though, it wasn't grimey enough to keep patrons away. His motorcycle came to a halt right in front of that person, whose hoodie was drawn over their head. Their sneakers were soaked from rain and a cigarette dangled from their lips.

The green strands of hair floating from the inside of the cowl were enough to give their identity away before they lifted their head to release the smoke in their mouth.

"Ito? What the fuck are you doing at a bar?!" Mondo's shout garnered Ito's attention very quickly, the man nearly jumping at the sound. His reply, though, was indignant. "I-I already, like...y'know, I like, TOLD you, nunya." Ito wobbled on the balls of his feet and nearly fell backwards, despite only standing in one place. As Mondo dared to step closer, the stench of cheap sake and tobacco filled his nose. He could feel bile churning in his stomach. Was straight-lace, anxious Ito really...

"Holy shit, are you drunk?"

"What, you gonna fuckin', uh, call my dad on me?" He punctuated himself by taking another long drag off his cigarette. This was worrying, to say the least. It felt like Mondo was exploring uncharted territory; some of the guys in the Crazy Diamonds pulled this kind of shit, but Ito?

Mondo grit his teeth behind his lips. "God, you fuckin' reek of booze, dude...and put that shit out, it smells damn awful." The drizzle around them picked up a little more, but the rain did nothing about the vice between Ito's fingers. Suddenly, that vile smoke was being blasted in his face, and Mondo let out a vicious cough. "Feels fuckin' gooooood..." Clouds billowed from Ito's mouth as he spoke.

Alright. That was enough. He was too tired and too worried to keep putting up with this shit. Mondo ripped the cigarette from his friend and crushed it in the palm of his hand. The burn from the still-lit tobacco felt like nothing on his calloused palms. "Hey, man! What the fuck?!" Ito slurred in protest, still gawking from the display, "That was, like, my last, uh...my last one!"

"Your lungs are thankin' me. Now, come on, get on the damn bike. I wanna go back to bed." Mondo stared Ito dead in the eye as he dusted the black remains from his hands...or, well, as much as he could stare into the eye of someone who's drunken vision was glazed over. His friend wobbled a little more and tried to glare, but ended up looking like a pouting child.

At last, he relented. "Fine..." With a huff, and a slump of his shoulders, Ito stumbled to the motorcycle. Finally, a little progress.

------

It wasn't a long drive back to the campus, but it sure as hell felt like it, what with the rain pelting them like bullets. Mondo always hated biking in the rain; the water would ruin his hair and undo all the hard work he put into it. Now, though, with his curled top tied back, the stuff was just shooting him straight in the eyes. He felt a little envious of Ito. His friend's face was buried into his back, safe from the onslaught from the clouds.

His long, spindly arms were wrapped around his waist, and Mondo thought he was secure until he felt his grip slumping, nearly falling off his chest. Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. He was dozing off. Thinking as quickly as he could, Mondo reached one hand behind him and slapped Ito's leg with a whip crack. His friend squawked and his grip returned with a vengeance, nails digging into his sides as he held on for dear life.

"Hey, don't fall asleep back there!" Mondo shouted above the rain, "You let go a'me, and you'll fuckin' crack your skull open on the street." Shit, Ito really was drunk if he wasn't yelling at him for that slap.

Instead, Ito just nuzzled deeper into his back, his lips moving against him as he mumbled, "M'kay..." The sensation of his friend's warm breath against the cold, wet skin beneath his soaked tank top sent tingles shooting up his spine. Mondo found himself about to protest but the words were strangled in his throat.

This is fine. He's probably just an affectionate drunk. It's harmless. Mondo chanted that three sentence mantra in his head over and over as he felt Ito's grip loosen. His safety hold on Mondo's torso was quickly evolving into some kind of embrace, and he felt more of those tender, warming sighs on his spine. As it got more and more difficult to concentrate on the road, the mantra only got louder in his brain.

------

As they left the school storage shed as silently as a sober babysitter and a drunk person could, Mondo saw Ito dig into the pockets of his jeans and his hoodie. He looked semi-panicked. Oh, God, what did he do now?

"Oh shit...oh shit, dude."

"What?"

"I lost my fuckin', like...my KEY."

Mondo swore he could feel a migraine blossoming in his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "You lost your God damn key, of course." Well, what now? Ito couldn't get into his dorm, and it's not like Mondo could just abandon him here. There was only one solution he could think of.

"Alright, whatever, you can crash in my dorm tonight. I think I got a sleepin' bag somewhere." Suddenly, a pair of long, skinny arms were thrown around his neck, and Ito became the world's most intoxicated necklace as he dangled gleefully from Mondo's neck. "Fuck yaaaay, slumber party with my bestest best bud, Ōwada!" Ito squealed as his legs kicked in the air. The volume of his voice was enough to make Mondo wince. "Jesus Christ, keep it down, you moron! Everyone's asleep!" he hissed.

Ito released him and dropped to the cement with a wet thunk. "Whoopsie doodle..."

The rain got worse as they made a perilous trek to the dorms, and it was extremely difficult to see where they were going, but somehow, eventually, they made it inside. It was difficult to minimize the tracks of water across the building floor, and Mondo prayed that they'd be mostly evaporated in the morning. Luckily, though, they didn't have too far to go, and in the blink of an eye they were in his dorm. Thank God, he was itching to get out of these dripping wet loafers.

"Alright, well, here we are. Just don't make too much of a mess, capiche?" Ito just seemed to wobble in a circle like a bobble head, a stupid grin on his reddened face. "Oh hot damn, I'm in Ōwada's room...where all his unmen'chibles aaaare..." He started to wander across the room when Mondo grabbed his shoulder. "Come on, man, at least get yer shoes off. Don't track mud all over the fuckin' place."

Ito blinked at him, and then sheepishly looked to the floor. "F-forgot."

"Yeah, I know you 'forgot' your key, dumbass---"

"NO. I forgot...I forgot how t'untie my shoes."

Mondo stared at him incredulously, his mouth hanging open in shock. "...oh, my fuckin' God." They must've served him some kind of memory-erasing cocktail. Or maybe he really was that far gone.

Ito gave him another wide grin. "C'mon, I'll give ya a biiiig kiss if y'help meee!" Fuck, yeah, he was completely gone. Mondo sighed as he pushed him to the bed. "Just...sit down," he ordered, exasperated, "Sit down and don't move." Ito did as he was told and plopped onto his sheets, peering down at Mondo uselessly while he undid the sopping knots of his shoes. Immediately when he got the first shoe off, all five of his senses were assaulted with the scent of a combination of nail polish remover and sharpies. "Fuckin' A, did you pour sake down your socks or somethin'?!" Jesus, if Ito wasn't gonna hurl by the end of this, Mondo would.

"Can't remember. Probsablyly."

Another irritated groan escaped through his grit teeth. Was this how Daiya felt when he was a kid and stepped in some shit and they had to get his sneakers off? At least Mondo had an excuse, then, for not knowing how to untie his shoes. Ito was just a damn idiot.

When his shoes were finally off and tossed by the door, Mondo rose to his feet. He should probably get him something, right? The pipes were probably still off for the night...he had a water bottle on the table. It was probably still good. Probably. "Alright. Okay. Alright," Mondo uttered, desperately trying to get some kind of mental hold on the situation, "Please tell me you remember how to drink before I get you some water." Ito scoffed and bounced himself off the bed so he could stand. "Oh, baby, I'm th'fuckin'...BEST at drinkin'."

Great. Mondo couldn't help but roll his eyes as he grabbed the water bottle. He took Mitsuo's hand and manually wrapped his fingers around the plastic, because God knows if he didn't, he might drop the fucking thing. "Here. Drink all a'this 'fore you do anythin' else."

Ito promptly ripped the cap off and swung it back, sucking down huge gulps of water at a worrying pace. Mondo balked as he witnessed this, helplessly protesting, "Holy shit, you don't need to chug it!!" But it was too late. His friend had gulped down the entirety of the contents in seconds.

"You wan'that kiss I promised ya...?"

That question came out of left field and smacked Mondo in the face.

"Wh...huh?"

He was frozen where he stood as Ito inched closer to him. "I been told I'm real good at kissin'...y'wanna fiiiiind out...?" His hair was down and a mess, and his glazed brown eyes were burning holes into his body. As drunk as he was, the way Ito was looking at him, his sight seemingly drinking in every part of him...it was almost sort of sexy---

Mondo immediately stopped his train of thought in its tracks and backed up a good three feet. No. No, no, no. "Okay...shit. Slow down, there, cowboy, you're...you're way too fuckin' drunk."

As Ito hobbled closer, the side of his hoodie sliding off his shoulder, Mondo brought his hands up, prepared to shove him if he needed. He needed to get him to sleep pronto.

"Y'wanna know a secret, Ōwada? Like a secret secret...?"

"...what?" Fuck, why did he answer? He shouldn't indulge Ito when he's like this! But it was too late.

"When I'm with y'like...like right now, my heart goes..." Ito's intoxicated brain seemed to struggle to find the right words. "...it does like a boom boom boom in my chest, y'know...? Like, so hard I feel it."

"Uh..."

"It's doin' it again...I want YOU t'feel it."

Before Mondo could even properly react, Ito's hands were curled over his arm and bringing his palm to rest over his heart.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

It was like someone was knocking into his hand. The knocking, the thudding, the beat...whatever it was, it made Mondo release a sharp exhale, and his mind felt like a warm cloud had settled inside it. His heart. Ito's heart felt like it was beating for him. Mondo's body quivered at the thought even crossing his mind, and suddenly, he became aware of his own dull thudding in his rib cage. He wanted to hold him closer, just a little bit. Enough so maybe they could feel their hearts beat together. And Ito's pulse was so close; if his fingers trailed to his neck, maybe he could feel---

His senses came back to him violently with whiplash. Mondo nearly jumped back against the wall as Ito's flesh suddenly became a red-hot iron. Don't. No. He couldn't. What was wrong with him? "Okay. Shit, fuck, that's enough. Lemme find the sleeping bag, and---"

When he looked and saw Ito's face again, tears were streaming down his cheeks. His shoulders were shaking as he hiccuped, and his eyes were lined with red. Oh. Oh, no. "Oh, God, Ito, you good?" Mondo tried, daring to step a little closer.

"You're not...never gonna...I'm..."

His garbled speech was muddled and slurred, and Mondo could barely understand what he was saying.

"Hurts...hurts a lot...I just...all the time, I...you...you won't..."

Something was hurting him? "Ito...?" Mondo didn't know what to do. He could deal with lost keys and forgetting lessons from kindergarten, but he didn't know how to help him with this one. Mondo wanted to pull Ito into a hug, but God, who knows what would happen after that. Shit, he couldn't even figure out what was making him cry. And apparently, neither could Ito, because he promptly stopped crying out of nowhere, returning to his previous wobbly state.

Well, he must've forgotten what was wrong, which was alright in Mondo's book. As Ito absentmindedly wiped his snot on the back of his sleeve, he gave the biker another doofy grin.

"Mmm, sleepy..."

Sleepy was great. All Mondo wanted for the wildest 15 minutes of his life was for Ito to go to sleep. Now he just had to find that sleeping bag. As he opened the doors to his closet to search, though, he heard the rustling of his sheets. Mondo turned his head to find Ito crawling into his bed, still fully clothed and soaked to the bone.

"Fuck, come on, man, that's MY bed..." Mondo grumbled just as his hands found his sleeping bag. Ito didn't respond in the slightest, instead choosing to nuzzle his face deep into his pillow. Mondo swore he heard him mumble something as he curled into himself beneath his sheets...something about smelling? He wasn't sure, and right at this second, he was too burnt out to care.

"Fine...fine. I'LL take the sleeping bag. Jesus..."

When the bag was unfurled, he shucked his sweats off and crawled inside. Mondo's polyester surroundings weren't the most comfortable, but hey, better than nothing. He especially didn't want to risk crawling into bed next to Ito. At least, not when he's drunk...somehow, within minutes of him thinking that, Mondo was asleep for the second time that night.

------

Mondo was wrung from his slumber on the floor in his bedroom by the sound of someone being extremely sick in his bathroom. From where he was, he could turn his head to see his impromptu guest hunched over his toilet holding his own hair back. Oh. Cool. So it wasn't just a super bizarre lucid dream.

"Ito? Hey, you alright?"

Weakly, Ito flushed the toilet and rested his head against the side of the bowl. "I feel like I got hit by a fuckin' train, but I'm alive," he ground out.

Mondo couldn't help but chuckle as he pulled himself from the sleeping bag. "That's the important part."

Mondo watched as Ito crawled on his hands and knees out of the bathroom before he came to a stop beside his bed, wincing at the sunlight streaming in. Ito looked like hell, but at least he was safe on campus and not waking up in some alleyway.

"Hey...Ōwada, I didn't, like, do anything weird last night, right...? Besides losing my key..."

"...you stole my bed, but other'n that, nah. You're good."

"Awesome."

It was probably better this way, him not knowing. Shit, if Mondo pulled half the crap he did, he'd probably be so embarrassed he'd die.

Ito's eyes slipped closed, like he was taking a break from the light. His hair was disheveled, and his lips parted to let out an exhausted sigh. He was...fuck, he looked pretty, like this, even though the smell of the bar and the cigarettes still hung on his clothes.

Ito abruptly stood, then, and almost limped to stuff his feet into his shoes. Mondo didn't really want him to go.

"Well, I'm gonna get outta your hair," Ito announced, "Either gonna try to call maintenance for a new key or pass out in the library...I'll decide on the way."

"Yeah, good luck, buddy."

Ito gave a tired wave back to him, and was about to open the door when he suddenly stopped. Mondo couldn't deny his heart jumping a little. His heart...fuck, his heart.

"Oh, hey, Ōwada?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. I...I owe you one."

"...anytime."

Ito gave him another smile, before finally, he walked away, out into the hall. The door clicked shut when Mondo stood up. He was...sad to see him go. But why? Why was he thinking all this weird, fuzzy bullshit? Especially after last night...he should think Ito was gross, at least.

Mondo flounced on top of his bed, still damp from Ito's body. If he breathed in deep enough, he could smell the faintest bit of him lingering.