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you smell like bleach and taste like mango tea

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Kazuaki likes to think that he won't fall asleep in places that are too detrimental. Falling asleep in class is fine (the students wake him up with their ruckus and the principal can't fire him because he keeps up with his load of work), falling asleep in the school field is fine (Okosan ran over him once and Hiyori had screamed bloody murder, but it had turned out alright apart from a mild concussion), falling asleep in the storage closet is fine too (the janitor always finds him and never wakes him up). In fact, he would go so far as to say that anyplace in the school, barring the incinerator, is a perfectly safe place for his body to unceremoniously and non-consentually conk out. 

But there is a one slight amendment to this.

That is to say, Kazuaki is certain that no one in the entire school building, barring perhaps the oblivious principal, would consider the infirmary a safe place to rest in. Owing, of course, to rumors.

Kazuaki smiles at that. It's just a bit comical.

Especially since he woke up in this infirmary, back to the floor and hands clasped in front of him as if he were Snow White and Shuu Iwamine's perpetually sneering face looking down at him. From an incredible close distance too, Kazuaki calmly notices. They're practically beak to beak, if either moved closer he's sure the other could feel their breathes combine into one.

They stare at each other. He languidly makes note of his colleague's wing pressed against his side, just slightly enough to hide something but not enough to be obvious about it. His feathers are fluffy enough to do a good job of it too, to any outsider's eyes- except to his, but he doesn't say anything. For now, at least.

 

"Hello", he breaks the silence, maintaining eye contact with someone who most certainly would've killed him in his sleep and who likely knows, on some instinctual level, that the sentiment is returned. "To what to I owe the pleasure?"

The answer is as swift with the same air of finality in it as always, "You were blocking the way. I thought you were a corpse."

Kazuaki smiles lightly, wonders what that would've been like, "And you thought you'd check if I were? I hadn't known you were so thoughtful."

Iwamine does not step back and remains in his personal space when he answers, "I've always been interested in this condition of yours."

"I've always told you that it's nothing." There is a tinge of hardness in his words, a hidden threat not to proceed further. He doesn't, as always.

 

Shuu Iwamine, the local murderer pigeon (and they both know it, of course they do), instead chooses to say, in a low voice and unreadable, passive expression, "You smell like bleach."

'You smell like shit', Kazuaki nearly bites back, but he doesn't because he knows that not only is it untrue and the pigeon smell of absolutely nothing except disinfectants, it's also the quickest way to the grave currently and while he doesn't fear death, something within him tells him that he has far more left to do until he lets himself obtain that eternal peace. 

So he chooses to say, "Ah, yes. Hiyori actually pointed it out to me recently as well."

"It's incredibly overpowering. I half expected you to tell me that you fell asleep in the washing machine."

"Ahaha. Well, that's not too off the mark actually..." They're both practically whispering at this point and it would be intimate if not for Kazuaki wondering where on earth Yuuya is and realizing that he doesn't even know what time of the day it is right now. Well, at least that's normal. He relaxes internally.

"...I don't think you need me to tell you how dangerous that is, as a regular occurrence." He's right. Kazuaki doesn't say anything though, because the partridge's eyes are looking away from his own, and he doesn't know where exactly but he doesn't feel in the mood for allowing this to end- it's the first time they've been so close, and he thinks what he's about to do is suitable revenge for an alternate timeline where he would've died at his hands right now, probably.

 

Anyway, he grabs the back of Iwamine's head with one wing, which doesn't seem to startle him in the least and returns the direct attention of his eyes back to his own orbs, and doesn't need to apply much force since they're already so close to kiss him. He does it in such a hurry that their beaks clash and a jagged red line of pain bursts along the side of Kazuaki's cheek, but he doesn't mind it, it's the last jolt he needs to thrust himself back in reality and out of his sleep filled, addled mind.

Iwamine stares for a moment at the red dripping down Kazuaki's feathers and then stares back down at his beak, seemingly pondering something, before Kazuaki drags him back with both wings for a deeper kiss, completely devoid of passion or meaning or substance, and they both know it. Their tiny bird tongues lash for dominance, neither winning. Breaking apart at the end, Kazuaki looks Shuu in the eyes, smiles as he presses his beak against the corner of Shuu's beak and drags it, all the way down to his neck, and licks the blood off without a word. 

 

Shuu looks at him with lidded eyes and wonders whether to take out his cleaver already, but doesn't, not because he's in love or anything sappy like that but because he chooses to observe, for now, and see where this will lead. It might be a bit interesting to see how they kill each other instead of it just being him who dissects and unearths the other. Hohoho. 

Monotonously, with a terrible small smile of his own, he says, "You taste like mango tea. Specifically the kind from The Licey Pigeon, two blocks from the school around the corner.

The not-so-sleepy pigeon responds with a bloody grin, "It's very relaxing, isn't it? I highly recommend it." 

The fluffy partridge with a hidden cleaver thinks about how he doesn't believe in soulmates but this may be the closest to one he'll ever have.