Seidou Academy was known for its prestigious reputation. The building that held all of the school’s most reputable students was pristine, newly built, and decked out with the highest up to date technology and faculty resources that would enhance both the teaching and learning experience for everyone that attended. The graduation rate for Seidou was at a whopping ninety-seven percent and of those that graduated, almost all of them entered private universities or gained scholarships for the clubs they joined.
Overall, Seidou held their name in high regard and made sure that each student kept their reputation pristine and untarnished.
Kuramochi Youichi, ironically, was one of those students. He may be brash and outspoken, but he adhered by school rules and did rather well on exams. Contrary to his delinquent looks and loud personality, Youichi was the prime example of what a good student is meant to look like.
Or well, he would be, if it wasn’t for the fact that what the teachers considered a perfect student to be Kominato Ryousuke—Seidou’s Satan.
He was absolutely the devil incarnate. Youichi had been caught in his web initially, like everyone else—that bubblegum pink haired was perfectly styled and that deceptive closed eye smile could throw anyone off. It certainly was able to trick the teachers. They all considered Ryousuke to be an angel, always helping out with carrying paperwork to rooms or cleaning up after class, never failing to send an innocent smile their way.
Youichi too, felt his heart skip a beat (what was this? A chick flick?), but then he came to know the cruel truth about who Kominato Ryousuke actually was.
Ryousuke was an evil manipulative motherfucker. He made sure the halls parted to make way for his excellency, he gave no mercy when it came to his sharp insults that could cut through even the most arrogant of people’s self-esteem in a matter of seconds, and he laughed when doing so.
Youichi was one hundred percent positive that Ryousuke’s diet consisted of hell fire and orphan tears.
No, he will not argue that fact.
So Youichi made it his absolute duty to stay far-the fuck-away from that self-entitled dick head. No matter how hot he was.
“Wow. That was such a compelling rant, ‘Mochi,” Miyuki drawled out bored. “But does this monologue have an ending?”
Ah yes, and Youichi was explaining to Miyuki Kazuya—his, unfortunately, poorly titled best friend—why exactly Kominato Ryousuke’s existence was relevant in this exact moment.
“Yes it fucking does, asshole,” Youichi took a vicious bite from his octopus wiener and pointed his wooden chopsticks at Miyuki’s chest. “Eijun starts as a freshman today. Meaning I have to warn him of the schools stupid hierarchy, which, sucks to say, means explaining to him that he cannot attempt to talk to Ryousuke or even look in his direction. Actually, I’ll just have to train him to stay dead silent the minute Satan walks down the halls.”
Miyuki snorted in response. “What is he? A dog?”
“No, just my pain-in-the-ass younger brother.” Youichi huffed under his breath, thinking back to his brother, who only became his brother from a marriage consisting of Youichi’s dad and Eijun’s mom. Youichi and Eijun had decided to keep their last names even though they had spent a majority of their childhood as siblings. They both cared deeply for each other, though Youichi would rather die than admit that out loud. Eijun was innocent, loud, head-strong, and a complete dunce. And while Youichi wouldn’t say he was the most level-headed person he’s met, he still had something that Eijun didn’t.
Common fucking sense.
It was easy to see why he was still very much concerned over Eijun’s high school debut. Seidou was anything but normal and mixing that in with Eijun’s own chaotic nature only meant a disaster that Youichi would have to clean up in the end.
He’d also rather not mop the halls clean of Eijun’s blood if he were ever to encounter Ryousuke.
Youichi would do his best to make sure that interaction never occurs in the first place.
Youichi groaned and buried his head in his arms that laid across his desk.
That didn’t mean Eijun was supposed to interact with him.
Eijun, not at all noticing Youichi’s inner turmoil, walked across the second year classroom towards his desk, ignoring the stares of the others within the room and placing his hands flat on the wooden tabletop.
“You-nii, why are you laying down? You should have told mom you weren’t feeling well!”
“I told you not to talk to me at school!” Youichi hissed through clenched teeth, lifting his head up to shoot Eijun a sharp glare. “You’re ruining my street cred.”
Eijun rolled his eyes. Cheeky brat. “Oh sure, street cred. And you helping old lady’s cross the street won’t ruin it. Definitely not.”
“Fuck off, I’m doing a public service!”
“Hey,” Miyuki cut in unprompted, flashing a smile Eijun’s way. “I’m Miyuki Kazuya.”
“Hi!” Eijun grinned back.
“I hate this.” Youichi sneered in disgust. “Don’t talk to him, Eijun, he has rabies.”
“It’s true, they spread like wildfire just like Mochi’s herpes.” Miyuki smiled easily earning a laugh from Eijun and serving to piss Youichi off even more than he originally was.
“Alright, leave. Don’t you have class?” Youichi waved his hand in a shooing motion and Eijun huffed, placing his hands on his hips.
“Fine! If you want to get rid of me so badly, I’ll leave!”
“That is literally what I’ve been trying to fucking say!” He shot back, leaning against his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “Please leave.”
Eijun was about to argue back, like he always does, but he was swiftly interrupted by a new voice that hollered from the doorway of the classroom.
Eijun turned to face a…miniature Ryousuke?! No that can’t be right. But the similarities were uncanny; the same shade of hair, the same petite figure, the same sharp amber eyes—Youichi had only seen a glimpse of it from Ryousuke once. The only difference was this mini Ryousuke was a bit shorter and also had a softer, more pleasant air around him.
But Youichi wasn’t going to be fucking fooled twice.
“Oh, Harucchi!” Eijun greeted back with a smile. Eijun knew that kid? Of course he fucking did, the kid just said Eijun’s name—his first name of all things.
“Eijun, who is that?” Youichi whispered harshly, tugging Eijun’s sleeve to get his attention. His brother turned to glance down at Kuramochi, confused at his apprehension.
“That’s Kominato Haruichi. We’re in the same class! We’re friends!”
Kominato?! Like Kominato fucking Ryousuke?! Like Kominato Lucifer the third fucking Ryousuke?!
That wasn’t his middle name but Youichi couldn’t imagine anything else fitting as well.
“How the fuck do you make friends that fast?”
“It’s called being nice and not practicing wrestling moves on people unprovoked.” Eijun rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I have to go! Bye-Bye You-nii! Make sure you don’t fall asleep in class. It’s disrespectful to the teacher, you know!”
“Idiot, I should be saying that to you!”
“Bye Miyuki-senpai! It was nice meeting you!” Eijun grinned brightly, batting his eyelashes a little too much before slipping away to link his arms with a blushing Haruichi and walking away.
Youichi could only gape at their receding forms, a sense of dread crawling up to his throat and lodging itself stubbornly, preventing any coherent words to come out of his mouth. Words like, why the fuck is Eijun speaking to a Kominato?! And My brother is about to end up dead and humiliated at the hands of the devil and I have to stop it.
“Wow.” Miyuki laughed, like the asshole he was, filling the silence with his ear-grating cackle. “How the plot thickens.”
“You just love watching me suffer, don’t you?” Youichi accused once he was able to gather his bearings.
“Oh, absolutely. It’s better than prime-time television.”
“Kindly, fuck off.”
“I, rudely, will not.”
Youichi groaned and slammed his forehead against the table, hoping the dull throbbing would make him forget everything that had just happened during the start of this cursed school year.
“Kuramochi,” The teacher strolled in and placed their hands on the desk in front of the classroom. “Please stop denting the desks. You did this last year too.”
Youichi mumbled a, ‘Yes ma’am,” and proceeded not to lift his head for the remainder of the class.
Youichi, instead of paying attention to what formulas would be on the next exam, had decided to plot his approach with Ryousuke when it came down to the safety of his stupid little brother.
Why was he literally the nicest person he knew? Eijun was going to have to do all his chores for the next two weeks to make up for this.
“You heard me, stop talking to Haruichi! Don’t you know who his brother is?” Youichi placed his arm on the back rest of the couch beside Eijun’s head. The same Eijun who looked at him incredulously with annoyed bafflement.
“You-nii, that’s so unfair!” Eijun scoffed, rising to his feet and glaring petulantly at the one person who is trying to save his ungrateful life. “You told me not to care about stupid stuff like reputation!”
“Yeah, well I take it back!” Youichi shot back, narrowing his eyes.
“You can’t control who I hang out with!”
“Have you met me?!”
“If I can’t hang out with Harucchi, then you can’t hang out with Miyuki-senpai!”
“How is that the same thing?!”
“He looks like a tanuki,” Eijun pouted. “And he seems like he has a twisted personality! You guys feed off each other’s evil-ness, it’s weird!”
Youichi couldn’t argue with that. But he was going to try.
“We’re not talking about my parasitical friendship with Miyuki right now, we’re talking about you getting mixed up with the Yakuza!” Youichi just couldn’t fathom why Eijun didn’t comprehend the immense danger he was putting himself in by associating with a Kominato. They would eat him alive!
“…Since when were we talking about Yakuza?!” Eijun screamed in frustration, gripping the strands of his hair tightly as he tried to keep up with Youichi’s imagination. “I thought we were talking about Harucchi!”
“Ugh! Mom!” Eijun, choosing not to entertain Youichi’s paranoia any further, stomped off to find the one person who would get his annoying older brother off his back which was his mother.
“You little snitch—!” Youichi chased after Eijun, attempting to stop him with a headlock but to no avail as their mother, Saya, turned the corner with a wooden spoon in her hand and a look of death on her face.
“Youichi, stop bullying your brother. Eijun…just stop.” She admonished, hand on her jutted out hip while waving the spoon threateningly.
Eijun gasped, and Youichi had to laugh because true. This was a daily occurrence for them and usually it would end up with Youichi practicing his wrestling moves on Eijun and Eijun being a cheeky brat but today—hallelujah—that was not the case.
“No! That’s not what happened!” Eijun corrected, pouting with flushed cheeks and playing his puppy-dog-eye card trick. “Youichi is saying I can’t be friends with someone even though he doesn’t even know them!”
“His brother is evil, and their family works for the Yakuza!” Youichi defended when Saya turned her hard stare onto him. She blinked, eyebrows raising in surprise at the claim and she lifted her hand to cover her mouth in shock.
“Oh my, they’re part of the Yakuza? You know this for sure?”
“Well, no.” Youichi muttered under his breath, ignoring Eijun’s scrutinizing glare. “But they could be!”
Saya’s face dropped, exhaustion present on her deadpanned expression and she pinched the bridge of her nose tightly before leveling Youichi with a dark look.
“Youichi. Don’t control your brother’s life. He can be friends with whoever he wants. You shouldn’t judge people without knowing them.” She chastised while Eijun hummed smugly in agreement, jerking his head up and down in a stiff nod.
“Exactly! We must be open-minded!” Eijun continued, lifting one finger up and waving it around as if he was a conductor. “We’d be no better than bullies or thugs if we just judge people off of appearances or reputation!”
Youichi hated this. He hated the fact that Eijun used his stupid annoying face to convince their mom that Youichi was wrong (he was wrong, but he wasn’t going to admit it), he hated that Eijun didn’t see the obvious danger he was being put in, and he hated how no one was listening to him.
“Fine.” Youichi sighed, rolling his eyes and Eijun whooped beside him. “I won’t tell you to stop hanging out with him anymore.”
“Yes! He’s really nice You-nii! You’ll like him the more you get to know him, I’m sure!”
Youichi nodded aimlessly at Eijun’s rambling, barely paying attention as he continued to move on to plan B; nip the problem in the bud by going directly to the source.
The source, in this case being Kominato Ryousuke.
Eijun may not realize it yet, but Youichi was only looking out for the idiot’s safety. Eijun was naïve and easily manipulated. He would get taken advantage of and used as putty at the hands of the Kominatos so if Youichi had to be the bad guy, then by god, he was going to be the next Maleficent or whatever the opposite of Gandhi was.
He was going to make sure his brother was safe and away from the hands of the one person who can end his social life—and actual life—with a snap of his fingers.
Kominato Ryousuke was, needless to say, someone who took control to another level. People always assumed that, due to his impairment in regard to the height department, he was meek and fragile; someone they can shove down to their feet and step on when they needed to or when they were feeling bored out of their mind and wanted some entertainment.
Whichever came first.
Which is why those same pieces of scum found themselves shell shocked and on the ground with a pretty shiner to match their busted lip.
Of course, violence was something he resorted to back in elementary school. Now all he has to do is glare intimidatingly and have the rumors do the rest. He can back it up for sure, like how a group of thugs had tried to challenge him in the halls one day and the next day they had transferred out, but he’d rather not get his hands dirty if he didn’t have to.
He did need the teachers to continue thinking he was an innocent little angel or else his hold on the students would loosen and he couldn’t have that.
To keep up the whole angelic student act, Ryousuke had his uniform pressed every single morning to perfection. He had his shirt tucked in his pants, his vest all the way buttoned, and his handkerchief folded as if he was walking into a five-star restaurant. He’s well aware that the squeaky clean appearance of his did well with the faculty and staff. That, added with his kind façade, only led to him having an army of adults at his beck and call if he were to ever be accused of abusing his power over the student body.
Now that Haruichi had joined Seidou, he had to be vigilant in making sure no one dared pester his younger brother to get to him. He would make sure Haruichi would grow a backbone by the time he graduated, and, if Haruichi wanted, he would rightfully place the younger as his successor, the new cruel prince.
But only if he wanted to, which Ryousuke truly doubted would happen seeing as Haruichi was much too kind to truly use anyone to his advantage. A pity, but understandable. He would make sure that Haruichi still had a pleasant high school experience, though. It was the least he could do.
Propping his feet up on the student council president’s desk, Ryousuke took a sip of his tea, relaxing and breathing in the fumes of fear that fueled his very soul. Or that’s what the president had told him before allowing Ryousuke immediate access to the room whenever he wanted. Yes, Ryousuke even had the student council under his thumb.
The peace and quiet was nice, and he did get that a lot now-a-days, but Ryousuke couldn’t stop the slow-settling boredom from creeping inside of his chest and causing him to be alone with his thoughts. Thoughts like, ‘I forgot to clean my flip blade collection’ and ‘I’m going to be alone forever’ and other pointless static sentences that would only add on to his built up stress.
Being alone was what he wanted. He was happy being alone. He was at his strongest when he was alone. Pondering over the statement shouldn’t make cause him to fall into a pit of despair when it was only fact. It was the truth. He was going to be alone forever. That’s how he wanted it.
Then, like a life buoy being thrown at him as he drowned under the pressure of his intense thoughts, a sudden slam of the door pulled him back into reality.
The cause of the alarming noise was…a delinquent? He looked like one at least, with rather messy spiked mossy hair and a sharp dangerous look in his eye. If Ryousuke was anyone else, he might have flinched. Then there was that tense frown on his kind of attractive face as he stared Ryousuke down without a single ounce of fear.
Oh, now that’s new.
“That’s my name.” Ryousuke hummed, moving his feet off the table and crossing them as he leaned his upper body against the desk. “Can I help you, delinquent-kun.”
“Delin—!” The boy sputtered before straightening up. “My name is Kuramochi Youichi!”
“Then? What did you want Kuramochi Youichi-kun.” Ryousuke sang out, smile easing on his face at the amusing sight. “Attempting to try your luck at taking me down?”
“What? No, I’d rather solve this without violence.” Youichi blinked before walking forward with assurance. That was surprising. Ryousuke was so sure he was attempting to pick a fight. But now that Youichi definitely had his attention, might as well hear him out.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met you before so I’m not sure what we would even be solving.” Ryousuke hummed, tilting his head curiously. “But I’ll be merciful.”
Instead of quivering in his feet or shouting heatedly, Youichi only rolled his eyes before folding his arms over his chest and leveling Ryousuke with a stern look.
“I want your brother, Kominato Haruichi, to stay away from my brother, Sawamura Eijun. He doesn’t need to get mixed up with you and your evil blood!”
Evil blood? Who was this guy? Ryousuke had to laugh, it was impossible not to. His shoulders shook as he quickly covered his mouth to stop his cackle, but it was too late. He threw his head back and the bubbling jubilation in his chest released full blown guffaws at the pure ridiculousness of it all.
“Oh, man you’re too much.” Ryousuke sighed, once he calmed down enough to actually form words. Youichi was completely red at this point, his face resembling a tomato to an uncanny level and his shoulders bunched in embarrassment. Before Youichi could shout out any profanities at him, he lifted a hand to stop him in his place.
Ryousuke wiped the corner of his eye with a finger before allowing his lips to curve in deviousness. “Hm.”
Youichi eyed him with distrust. “What?”
Ryousuke nodded. “Here’s the deal. If you become my little lap dog for a week, I’ll think about it. How’s that sound?”
“What?! No way!”
“I wonder if Eijun’s good with drug deal negotiations—”
“Alright, I’ll do it.” Youichi grumbled, glowering at Ryousuke with animosity. “I’ll be your stupid servant.”
Ryousuke hadn’t really understood what possessed him to make that deal. He wasn’t one to make deals in the first place. But he was bored, and quality entertainment had just walked through the doors so who was he to deny such an interesting opportunity?
“Perfect.” Ryousuke purred, standing up and walking around the desk to stand face to face and truly observe his new puppy. Youichi stiffened at Ryousuke’s scrutinizing and, if Ryousuke wasn’t ogling the boy’s muscles, he would have found the action to be endearing. But wow was Youichi built. And his rugged face was like a diamond in the rough, a sight to behold; completely unblemished and golden brown. He sure was a cute one.
Well, Ryousuke was sure going to put those muscles to use during this week. Placing his hand on Youichi’s impressive pectorals, Ryousuke patted them twice before ushering him out of the door. “We start during lunch.” Ryousuke ordered, leaning against the door frame while Youichi stood outside. “Come straight here, and try not to keep me waiting, Youichi. I’m not a very patient man.”
Youichi narrowed his eyes. “Noted.”
Ryousuke couldn’t help but smile at that, waving mockingly as Youichi stepped down the hall. He admired the perky view before stepping back inside the room planning on how he was going to absolutely torture his new pet project.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
Youichi had to be an idiot. There was no other explanation for what had just transpired no less than five minutes ago. There is no way a rational intelligent human being would offer themselves to become the servant of the devil himself. What was worse was that he might not even be able to actually save Eijun. There was no assurance, only a possibility that Ryousuke may take action. Therefore, Youichi was an idiot. That had to be it.
Why in God’s name did he think that striking a deal with Kominato Ryousuke wouldn’t end up with his ass on the pavement with concrete burns and no possible happy ending? He revisited the moment where he decided, during a burst of courage, to barge into the student council room and demand Ryousuke take responsibility for the separation of their brothers. But instead of being faced with a fire breathing dragon or Ryousuke shedding his human skin to reveal some sort of lizard humanoid creature, Youichi’s eyes were graced with the sight of one of the hottest guys he’s ever seen in his life.
Sure, from a distance, Youichi could appreciate Ryousuke’s rather symmetrical bone structure. He was well aware of the other’s good looks. But seeing him upfront was different. That malicious smile, that slightly awkward and very cute laugh, that stupid way he patted Youichi’s chest and said his name and—
“Holy shit, dude.” Miyuki said, once again cutting Youichi’s train of thought. “Can you like, not gush over the prince of darkness in front of my fucking salad?”
Oh, he was speaking out loud again.
“No, you were monologuing again.” Miyuki lifted up a sliced tomato with his fork and put it in his mouth. “Can’t believe you sold your soul to Satan. What’s it like being damned for all eternity?”
“You know, I could really use some moral fucking support, you snake bastard.” Kuramochi snarked, resting his cheek on his fist while he thought over every decision that led up to this, once again, stupid, mistake. “And why are you eating right now? It’s not even lunch time right now. Just a free period.”
“I’m a growing boy.” Miyuki cleared his throat. “Okay, why don’t you just, you know, let Sawamura and little Kominato be friends?”
“Not an option. Next.”
“Wow, the overprotective older brother act.” Miyuki smirked. “Respect.”
Youichi sneered at him, not at all in the mood to share insults left and right. He needed some real solid advice. All Miyuki was good for was back and forth banter and occasional entertainment. “You disgust me.”
“That has to be the fifth time you said that in two days.”
“Are you keeping count, you freak?”
“Why, ‘Mochi-kun, what kind of bestie would I be if I didn’t?”
“…Will you just help me, you manipulative son of a bitch?” Youichi hissed, reaching over his desk to grab Miyuki’s shoulders which were shaking from his sinister cackles.
“I am helping you!” Miyuki chuckled, raising his hands up in a surrendering motion and shoving Youichi’s hands off his shoulders. He straightened out his white dress shirt, fixing the slight wrinkles and pretending to dust off whatever imaginary debris he thought Youichi touched him with. “First of all, this could have all been avoided if you just let Sawamura make friends with whoever he wanted. Little Kominato isn’t like his brother.”
“But if Eijun is friends with this Haruichi kid then interacting with Ryousuke…san will be inevitable!” Youichi defended but Miyuki only rolled his eyes at his friend’s dramatics.
“And? It would only be a small interaction if anything. They’re in completely different grades. Second of all, why would you agree to become his slave if he said, ‘I’ll think about it’. What kind of assurance is that? I thought you were smarter than this.” Miyuki paused for a moment. “Actually, never mind. This is exactly the kind of stupid stunt you’d do.”
Youichi frowned at the implication and straightened his posture, attempting to come off as intimidating to Miyuki which was completely pointless seeing Miyuki wasn’t scared of people in general, no matter what they looked like. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that whenever you see a pretty face who can possibly use a blade with intense precision, your gay panic goes off the radar and you stop thinking period.”
Gay panic? Gay panic? Youichi doesn’t gay panic. He is gay relaxed, okay? He is gay serene, gay chill, gay mellow, gay—anything that was the opposite of panic. Sure Ryousuke was hot but Youichi wouldn’t say he panicked when he saw him. His heart was beating heavily against his rib cage and his palms had felt moist with sweat, but he hadn’t been panicking.
“And finally,” Miyuki hummed arrogantly, propping his elbow against the back of his chair as he smirked at Youichi’s frazzled appearance. “Since you are a rather noble dude, you’re going to keep your word so there’s no getting out of this. The only thing you can do is either allow Sawamura and Kominato to be friends—”
“—Or, bare with Ryousuke-san for one week.” Miyuki shrugged, holding up his index and middle fingers. “Two choices, ‘Mochi. Pick the lesser evil.”
For once, Miyuki was making sense. Youichi had to pick the lesser evil, the one that would allow Eijun to be both safe and happy and Youichi facing less casualties in the long run. He needed to sacrifice something in order to get the other and he knew just what choice he needed to make—the right choice.
He slammed his fist on the table, determination flooding his veins as he looked at Miyuki, finding his resolve.
“I have to be Ryousuke’s servant for a week.”
Miyuki face palmed. “Not at all where I was going with. But okay.”
Youichi had made up his mind. He was going to suck up whatever negative feelings he had about Kominato Ryousuke so he could save his naïve little brother from being dragged down to hell.
After a few more classes, lunch time had finally rolled around for the students of Seidou. Some bustled down the hall to try and grab the famous Yakisoba bread before it was sold out. Others moved to their friends classes to eat lunch with them in the cafeteria or outside, sitting on the slightly rusted benches that were shaded underneath the large, strong oak trees that were able to withstand any weather.
Youichi, unfortunately, could not share the excitement that his fellow students had for the block of time within the school day. He used to. He could remember a time—yesterday—where he, too, reveled in the listlessness that came with the glorious lunch period. It was a time for teenagers to unwind, to laugh and catch up with their friends, to take a breather from being pounded with information that they were meant to use for their upcoming exams.
But Youichi was naïve, as were the rest of the student body. That façade of serenity would soon dissipate when being faced with responsibilities that only a man, like him, can handle. In his case, it meant being able to step up when his little brother was fraternizing with the enemy.
Youichi pitied them, truly. It was so sad to see them laughing and enjoying their time without knowing the reality they’ll have to face eventually. Only a man could do what he was doing.
Well, that was what he was telling himself so he wouldn’t be jealous watching everyone enjoy their carefree lunch while he faced the gates of hell. Youichi has been referencing a lot of biblical terms lately but being in touch with God was probably a good idea when it came to Kominato Ryousuke.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath in, Youichi gathered his courage, opening the door to the student council room, and stepped in. He locked eyes with Ryousuke, who was sitting behind the desk, cheek pressed up against his fist and his free hand resting flat against the clean styled mahogany wood, fingers tapping on it with a set rhythm.
He was so effortlessly pretty it pissed Youichi off.
With a fierce glare and a goal in mind, Youichi shut the door behind him and sauntered over to the front of the desk, his back straight making sure not to show even a sliver of weakness in front of the mastermind of the school.
“Good,” Ryousuke said after a moment of silence, his cool mature voice tickling Youichi’s ear pleasantly. “You’re right on time, Youichi.”
His first name? Youichi stiffened. That was too familiar. That was too damn close.
“Youichi?” He repeated, staring at the man before him. “Isn’t that too—”
“Oh?” Ryousuke hummed, cutting him off with a taunting quirk of his lips. “Am I supposed to address you with your last name? Like you deserve respect, pet?”
Youichi hated him.
“Of course not,” Youichi pursed his lips tightly, eyes sparking challengingly. “Ryou-san.”
Ryousuke let the fist that his head was leaning on uncurl so he would be pressing against this palm instead and drummed his fingers against his cheek bone with resigned amusement.
“Here’s your first task, puppy.”
A shiver involuntarily made its way up Youichi’s spine at the way Ryousuke’s voice darkened at the nickname. He couldn’t say it was an unpleasant feeling.
Ryousuke pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on it thoughtfully and successfullydistracting Youichi with the way he teased the plush skin until it turned pink in color.
Ryousuke’s fingers reached for a pen, bright and red, from the metal pen holder that sat color coded and organized beside his wrist. Taking the stationary and observing it for a moment, he grabbed a small notepad and began to write down a list of some sort. Youichi could only stand dumbstruck as only the sound of a ball point pen rubbing against the slightly cheap material of paper fill the otherwise silent room.
Once Ryousuke was finished, he tore the paper he was writing on off the rest of the note pad and handed it over to Youichi who glanced at it for a moment.
6 Yakisoba Bread.
6 Melon Bread
6 Milk Bread
And a strawberry milk.
This man was born and raised in hell fire. Nobody could convince Youichi otherwise. Getting Yakisoba bread from the cafeteria was hard enough but to get six of three different types of bread each? That was suicide. He would have to jump out the window to get to the cafeteria in time before everything was sold out. He’s not the fucking Flash, how the hell was he gonna do this?
“Are you fucking serious?” Youichi hissed, holding the paper up and shaking it, the sound of flapping paper bringing a smile on that pristine fucking face. “This is impossible. There’s no way I would be able to grab one single bread at this time let alone six of each kind. You’re absolutely insane!”
“Aw,” Ryousuke tutted with fake sympathy. “Then I guess your brother is just gonna have to learn how to swim—”
“Okay, I’ll fucking do it, you—! Why six of three different types of bread?!” Youichi groaned, rolling up his sleeves and preparing for the marathon of his life.
Ryousuke’s lips curled in a Cheshire cat smile, a look that could only promise pain, and he shrugged casually. “666. I like that combination.”
“You’re absolutely the spawn of Satan.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere. Now, go fetch, puppy.”
And with then Youichi sped down the halls, using his freakishly fast legs to his advantage and racing against the other students to the cafeteria while avoiding teachers that yelled at him to stop running in the halls.
Fuck Ryousuke, no like seriously fuck Ryousuke, fuck him so hard for putting Youichi through this. Youichi is so fucking lucky he was faster than the average person or else he was sure Ryousuke would have made him skip class and ruin his perfect attendance just to get some of the bread from the store.
Once he made it to the cafeteria, he saw a swarm of students making their way towards the front of the cafeteria line all at once. It was like the horde of zombies; all mindlessly rushing over to the smell of blood—or in this case, the sweet aroma of bread.
Not if Youichi could fucking help it.
Rushing over, Youichi ran quickly over to the front of the line, maneuvering through the crowd and putting all his strength and power into his legs to boost him towards his goal. Thankfully, all his effort ended up useful in the end as he was able to be the very first customer in line, grinning and panting in exertion.
The lunch lady blinked at Youichi in concern, seeing as he was hunched over, breathing heavily trying to regain all the oxygen he had lost before. Finally, he lifted his head and gasped out his order, “Yakisoba bread, Melon bread, and Milk bread, six of each please.”
The group of students behind him groaned in agony at the dent in the bread inventory for the day and Youichi felt knives prick at his back from the envy and hatred the crowd was emitting. He gulped and reached over, paying for the bread. “Oh and a bottle of strawberry milk please.”
If Ryousuke didn’t end up killing him, Youichi was positive the rest of the student body would.
“Oh, you actually got them.” Ryousuke said, pleasantly surprised at the full shopping bag in Youichi’s hand. Youichi was becoming more and more interesting by the minute. He was hoping that Youichi would come empty handed so he could torture him a little more by sending him to the store during class hours, but this would do for now. Youichi seemed to have completed his task effortlessly.
Maybe not effortlessly. Youichi had come back, sweating and panting, completely exhausted by the rather ridiculous and almost impossible order. It was a little unnerving to Ryousuke that Youichi looked so good as his forehead shined with perspiration, short strands of hair sticking to the skin while he wiped his neck clean with a towel.
Ryousuke tried not to feel jealous over a towel.
“Yeah, of course I got them,” Youichi panted, all furrowed brows and slick muscles. “I’ve never been late once and today wasn’t going to be one of them.”
“Hm.” Ryousuke stood up and rounded the desk, trailing a delicate hand against the ridges of the table’s edges, reveling in the way Youichi’s attention fell onto his slender fingers. Taking a bold step forward into the other’s space, Ryousuke kept his gaze trained on Youichi’s lips that were curled into a confused frown and his furrowed brow that only accentuated his chiseled feature. He extended one hand, not once looking away, and grabbed the bag from Youichi’s hand, their skin brushing each other’s making the taller twitch slightly at the contact.
“Good puppy,” Ryousuke cooed, enjoying the slight heat in Youichi’s glower, ignoring his own tight coil that was pulling within his stomach. “Here’s a treat.” He grabbed a random bread from the bag and unwrapped the plastic packaging, holding it up to Youichi’s mouth in a mocking manner.
Youichi sneered in disgust, as if the bread had personally offended him and moved his head to the side so the piece of heated yeast wasn’t in his face to stare down Ryousuke. Ryousuke only tilted his head innocently in response. His next order was explicitly clear at that point: Eat the bread from his hand.
Ryousuke was prepared to humiliate him to the point of tears but it seemed as if Youichi had decided to fight back. Instead of shutting his eyes, stiffening up, or looking away, Youichi briskly grabbed the hand that held the bread and began to take a bite of the fluffy warm goodness.
The elder held back a hitch in his breath, the feeling of Youichi’s warm palm enveloping and covering his knuckles traveled straight down his arm and elicited a shiver to run down his spine. The two locked eyes, unmoving, as Youichi continued to take bite after bite, chewing and swallowing in perpetual movements. Ryousuke was consciously aware of the makeshift border that the bread created between Ryousuke’s fingers and Youichi’s lips and how it was disappearing with each of Youichi’s orchestrated chewing.
Finally, only one piece that could fit a single mouth was left, and Youichi took his sweet ass time getting to it. His eyes were murky with something dark and desirable as his lips parted to inhale the last piece, covering the bread entirely, and the plush, slightly chapped skin pressed against the tips of Ryousuke’s extended fingers.
Ryousuke tried to ignore how it felt. He immediately began to think of anything else but the way Youichi looked eating out of his hand like a brat who thought he was in charge. His heart was pounding restlessly against his chest, indicating that he hadn’t truly minded the skin to lip contact as much as he was attempting to believe.
Youichi slowly dropped Ryousuke’s hand swallowing visibly, Adam’s apple bopping enticingly while he began to take off his uniform jacket, the white button up sticking to his slick chest, and patches of his sun-kissed skin showing through the slightly damp material. Ryousuke held in the urge to bite his lip and reveal just how he was feeling about the sight before him.
The cheeky second year threw the jacket over his shoulder, grinning like the cat got the cream, and raised a brow. “What’s next, your liege.”
“Your number,” Ryousuke breathed out once he was finally fucking able to. “So that I can text you whenever I need something. And take a shower would you? You reek.”
But in the good way.
“You’re so unpleasant,” Youichi tutted once before complying and sharing his phone number to the other. “Then, till next time Satan.”
“Till whenever I will it, Youichi.” Ryousuke leaned back on the desk, crossing his arms and maneuvering one ankle over the other. “Now, get out.”
“Really? Ryou-san is this really necessary?”
“Oh don’t complain, Youichi. It ruins your stability.”
Youichi grumbled from where he was, bent on all fours in front of Ryousuke who had his stupid feet placed on his fucking back.
It’s been almost four days since Youichi has become Ryousuke’s designated lap dog. Four days of running around for absolutely no reason, of carrying Ryousuke wherever he wants, of doing every little, miniscule pointless thing for Ryousuke as if he was incapable of doing those tasks himself.
Today, Youichi was demoted to being a foot stool.
Yeah, if he didn’t find Ryousuke so incredibly sexy, he would be murdering the pink fucker by now.
Speaking of Ryousuke’s extremely attractive appearance, Youichi had no fucking clue what the guy used on his skin. Why was it so smooth and shiny? What? Did he dip his face in gold or something?
These past few days, Youichi has learned quite a great deal about Kominato Ryousuke (except for his skin care routine). Ryousuke had a switch blade collection which would be impressive if it wasn’t in the hands of someone who would not hesitate to commit murder in a public setting. Ryousuke enjoyed drinking tea over coffee. He hated being on caffeine and decaf tasted like “putrid raining shit” as he so vehemently stated.
Then there were parts of Ryousuke that Kuramochi had to look harder to find out. Ryousuke thought to himself a lot. He looked as if he was holding back something, holding in some sort of secret that he couldn’t allow himself to hear or it would make it too real, and Kuramochi was too curious for his own good. So he asked one day what Ryousuke was thinking about and all he got in return was a pitiful smile and a snarky reply that didn’t match the sad expression on his face.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Youichi.”
That was it. That was all he got. That annoying, frustrating, stupid, handsome piece of absolute human garbage was showing real human emotion and it was throwing Youichi off. He hated Ryousuke but he hated Ryousuke even more when he wasn’t cackling over someone else’s demise.
Wow he must be really fucked up.
Youichi wanted to despise Ryousuke, to throw him out the window for all the bullshit he put him through. But then the minute he got up in Ryousuke’s face, Youichi would feel that familiar heat bury itself within his core, smoldering and almost painful, willing him to acknowledge that beneath all that hate he harbored for the shorter boy, there was cultivating desire flowing throughout his blood streams and making him think of Ryousuke in the most inappropriate situations he could think of.
Last night had been one of his weaker moments. Ryousuke and Youichi had spent the day yelling and snarking at each other. He wanted to punch those pretty teeth in.
When Youichi had gotten home that night, he went straight to the shower and had a momentarily lapse of judgement as he proceeded to jack off to the thought of Ryousuke’s face.
The next day he spent half of the morning avoiding Ryousuke’s eye.
Youichi wanted to hate him, and he was really trying. Sure, masturbating to his worst enemy wasn’t really a convincing argument but he digresses.
Then the tie incident happened.
It was a normal Thursday, as normal as it could be being on a leash, and Youichi was doing Ryousuke’s chemistry homework. It made absolutely no sense and they didn’t even take the same level of chemistry, this was ridiculous. But Youichi had to do so without any back sass or else Eijun—his stupid younger brother whom he loves—would suffer.
After finishing one worksheet, Youichi exhaled heavily and stretched out his arms, relaxing his muscles for a moment before he would go through the mental exercise of figuring out how to calculate the atomic abundance from the atomic mass.
Youichi looked over at Ryousuke, slightly curious to see what the other does during his free time, only to see him reading a book, aimlessly, without a care in the world.
Unable to stop himself, Youichi curled his lip in distaste and challenged, “You’re so spoiled. Can’t even do your own fucking homework. What? Do you want me to tie your tie too?”
Ryousuke, placing his book down, only allowed his lips to twitch in slight amusement—that easy smile never dropping for even a second. He shrugged contemptuously.
“Sure, why not.”
“Come here and tie my tie for me, Youichi.” Ryousuke stood up from his seat and walked over to where Kuramochi was. “Well? I don’t have all day.”
Youichi inhaled deeply through his nose, trying to take in all the oxygen into his brain so that he could calm the fuck down, and stood up, facing Ryousuke’s proud semblance.
Youichi reached his hands out, gripping the tie and pulling it up tight, attempting to choke the asshole, but all he got in return was Ryousuke gasping slightly in surprise and stumbling forward, now face to face with Youichi—breathing the same air as him.
Youichi’s heart jumped at the lack of space, their chests almost touching if it wasn’t for his fists wrapped around Ryousuke’s tie.
This definitely wasn’t helping his love-crush dilemma he was having over the older Kominato.
Ryousuke, instead of shoving Youichi off or spitting at him, stood where he was, and his amber eyes (fuck they were pretty) peeked out from his, usually, frequently shut lids. Youichi swallowed thickly, feeling his mouth go dry and the words that were stuck in his throat failed to come out. All his brain was able to comprehend was how pretty Ryousuke was. Was it weird to call another guy pretty? How about beautiful? That was better, right?
Ryousuke had pretty features though. His cheeks that had been pale before were now slightly tinted pink, his lips, a bit thin and oh, so kissable, were being chewed red and swollen between his teeth. Youichi wanted to die. He wanted to bury himself so that the last thing he ever witnessed was this sight; was Ryousuke so beautifully debauched for him.
“You can let go now…” Ryousuke said airily, almost as if he himself didn’t want Youichi to. Youichi did, however, let go. The two remained silent for a moment, only taking a minute to gather themselves and going back to their respective tasks.
The tie incident was the reason why Youichi had jacked off to the thought of Ryousuke a second time.
Kominato Haruichi was astutely aware of his brothers place within Seidou’s social hierarchy. After all, the older Kominato was literally on the top of that pyramid. With that came perks for Haruichi—no one wanted to mess with the Dark Prince’s little brother. But Haruichi just found the entire ordeal to be embarrassing. All he wanted to do was make friends, pay attention in class, and enjoy his high school life like a normal, law-abiding student.
Obviously being brothers with Ryousuke automatically made that an impossible request to fulfill. Haruichi had thought he was on the right track when he made his first friend in high school, Sawamura Eijun, but turns out that guy was an idiot. Albeit an endearing idiot but an idiot, nonetheless. With Eijun came Furuya Satoru. Another idiot, but he was cute so Haruichi would forgive him.
Needless to say, Haruichi never had a boring day at school.
Right now, for example, he was standing outside the gates of Seidou, ready to start the day, only to see Eijun’s brother, Kuramochi-san, carry Ryousuke on his back and walking inside the building of the school.
Haruichi could barely move, the shock grounding his feet to the concrete of the sidewalk as he stared at the bizarre scene in front of him.
He was going to have to bring this up to Eijun when he saw him.
Quickly, gathering his bearings, Haruichi sped inside and rushed to the first year classroom. He needed to make sure that Eijun had seen the same thing he had before leaving the house. If not, then Haruichi was definitely hallucinating and that was another problem he would have to address sooner or later.
Sliding the door of the classroom, Haruichi walked in and made his way towards where Eijun was seated, placing his hands heavily on top of the other’s desk and garnering his attention.
“Harucchi!” Eijun chirped with an excitable grin. “You’re here—”
“Your brother was carrying my brother into school. Is he okay?” Haruichi stressed frantically, not even allowing Eijun to finish his greeting and scanning his reactions to the news that was just bestowed.
Eijun blinked once, twice, before another smile pulled at his lips and his cheeks flushed in jubilation.
“Oh, yeah! Isn’t it cute? I think my brother has a crush on Onii-san!”
That’s not what a crush does for another crush, that is enslavement.
“Eijun,” Haruichi sat on the seat that was right across Eijun’s desk. “That is not how someone expresses affection for another?”
“Wahaha! Don’t be ridiculous, Haruichi! Love isn’t linear—!”
“—It’s clear to see how You-nii shares romantic feelings for Onii-san! I’m rooting for them! They have my blessing!”
Haruichi should have known better than try to reason with Eijun. It was clear to see that the golden eyes, empty brained, friend of his saw everything with rose tinted glasses and a shoujo manga mentality.
This was absolutely terrifying.
“Eijun, life is not a shoujo manga,” Haruichi frowned. “I feel like your brother is getting tortured by the hands of mine and I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
“You’re over thinking it!” Eijun waved him off. The irony of this situation was beginning to piss Haruichi off. “I know when You-nii is head over heels for someone! He’s happy to help Ryousuke with his tasks! Its courting, Harucchi! Courting!”
“I know what courting looks like. That looks like corporal punishment.”
“Never mind,” Haruichi sighed, “I guess, if you’re not worried, then I’ll let it go.”
“Yeah!” Eijun beamed. “You know, You-nii was worried about me being friends with you at first since he thought your brother was evil or something but I’m glad he’s seen past that.”
Haruichi let Eijun’s sentence seep into his brain, the gears in his head turning as he thought back to Ryousuke’s mannerism’s and Youichi’s actions in regard to Eijun.
Then it clicked.
“Oh my god,” Haruichi whispered to himself, covering his mouth. “Kuramochi-san made a deal with my brother.”
Haruichi would be sure to provide a proper burial for Eijun’s brother the minute Ryousuke was done with him.
“Hey,” Ryousuke raised his sole and jabbed it down against Youichi’s back making him hiss. “Go make me tea.”
“Fuck you.” Youichi stood to his feet.
If that ain’t the gospel fucking truth.
Youichi chose not to answer him, hiding his flushed cheeks and went over to where the tea pot was settled on the stove (why did the student council room have a stove?) and turned the gas off. He grabbed the pot by the handle and poured the contents inside a lone tea-cup. Placing the cup on the matching sauce, he carried it over to Satan in disguise, gently putting it in right in front of him.
“There’s your fuckin’ tea.”
Ryousuke, with the grace of an aristocrat, delicately lifted the cup, lightly blowing away the steam that arose from the liquid and took a sip. He then, slowly, set it back down and smacked his lips to take in the lingering taste of the tea.
“It’s too hot.”
“No it’s not.”
Ryousuke leaned back. “Yes it is.”
Youichi was this close to dumping the rest of the pot over that pompous asshole’s head.
“No it isn’t, Ryo-san. Try it again.”
“I don’t want to try it again,” Ryousuke huffed. “I want hot tea, but this is unbearable.”
Youichi grit his teeth and grabbed the cup, ignoring the heat that bit at his fingertips and bellowed, “Fuck you! It’s not hot! See?!” He then, out of a fit of spite and stubbornness, downed the entire cup of hot, scolding tea. The liquid burned his taste buds and the channel of his throat, bringing tears of pain to prick the corner of his eyes.
But because Youichi ran on pure vengeance, he would not give Ryousuke the right to rub his mistake in his face.
“See?” He said hoarsely, resisting the urge to rub his throat. “Not hot.”
“You’re sounding kinda rough there,” Ryousuke smirked. “You sure it wasn’t too hot.”
Youichi narrowed his eyes. “Unfortunately for you, my tastebuds aren’t prissy. So I think I can handle a little heat.”
Ryousuke stilled at that and Youichi just realized the implication behind his words but he wasn’t going to back down from them. Hell no. He was going to stick by what he said.
Ryousuke, in response, darted his tongue out to wet his lips—Youichi watching with avid attention—and pressed a hand against his cheek.
“Good to know.”
Youichi spend the entirety of Physical Education explaining the events back to Miyuki.
“All I got from that is that you had an indirect kiss with Ryousuke-san” Miyuki grinned from where he was running on the track, keeping pace with Youichi.
“Fuck you.” Youichi ran faster, hoping that the red that stained his cheeks was from the heat and not whatever the fuck Miyuki just implied.
Youichi on the final day of his deal, had hoped it would go by slow. He couldn’t understand the dread he felt knowing that the minute he left campus, he would no longer have any reason to see Ryousuke anymore. He should be ecstatic, he was no longer an errand monkey for that sadistic bastard.
He should be jumping off the fucking walls.
Youichi was happy. He was extremely happy that he wouldn’t be serving Ryousuke on his hands and knees anymore. That’s why he was sitting on his couch with a blanket thrown over his shoulders, the ambience of the room dim and depressing, and eating a pint of rocky road alone. 10 Things I Hate About You was his choice for a movie and as he watched this slightly cringe American film, he couldn’t help but relate to both the female protagonist and the male to an unhealthy degree.
He absolutely did not tear up when Kat read her poem out loud to the class.
He abso-fucking-lutely did not.
Actually this movie along with Mean Girls and The Proposal described this time of his life to a T.
Ryousuke hadn’t texted his agenda for the next day so it was safe to say that their little arrangement was completely over.
God, when did he turn into such a pessimistic loser? Sure, Ryousuke hadn’t mentioned what the next day entailed but that didn’t mean Youichi couldn’t see him regardless. In fact, Youichi should be going over to fuck with the older boy as pay back for everything he had to endure the past week.
Yeah, he should be fucking doing that.
Youichi, suddenly felt his phone vibrate, and like a viper to a mouse, he shot his hands out to grab the device. He read the text message with a frantically beating heart and the urgency of a drowning penguin.
The deal’s over. Can’t wait to never interact with your stupid face again.
Youichi slumped over, reading and re-reading the message over again while his heart promptly fell to the pits of his stomach.
Youichi should be ecstatic.
Youichi only felt despair.
Hot rage washed over him like a tsunami wave, heating up his entire body and causing his mind to muddle with animosity and boiling fury.
Fuck no. Ryousuke didn’t get to just string him along and then throw him away when he was done. He didn’t get to play him like that. Where the fuck did that pompous snake bastard get off ordering him around for a week and then tossing him out like trash?
Without thinking, Youichi clumsily shoved aside the comforter and stood to his feet, not even taking a moment to change out of his worn out tank and sweats and threw on his sneakers.
He ran out of the house with a goal in mind, with a vendetta to accomplish.
Youichi was going to give Kominato Ryousuke a piece of his mind.
Ryousuke fiddled with the buttons on his phone before snapping it shut and looking across the street at the lamp that was dimly lit in order to provide some sort of guidance towards those that were out so late at night. Like now. For people like him.
He pressed himself against the brick wall of the convenience store by his house—the same convenience store he would make Youichi go to in order to grab the newest issue of his favorite magazine—and looked at the barren road, pondering if he should begin walking home or if he should continue thinking about Youichi and his annoying face.
Annoying. Irritating. Vexing. God, Ryousuke never wanted Youichi to leave. He had gotten so used to the other’s presence, so used to seeing Youichi walk in with fierce determination and the muscles of an Adonis.
They would push and pull at each other, always on the verge of committing murder, of shoving the other out the window, of poisoning food, of kissing each other senseless.
Ryousuke pinched the bridge of his nose so that the throbbing in his head would go away. Youichi wasn’t interested in him. Ryousuke was cruel and selfish. He didn’t want Youichi and Youichi didn’t want him. That was what made sense. That was how it should stay. That was how it had always been.
“Stupid.” He whispered into the slightly humid air, kicking himself off the wall and beginning to walk home.
Not even two steps in, however, Ryousuke’s ears twitched at the sound of faint rapid stomping indicating someone was running in his direction and running fast.
Ryousuke whipped his head around, ready to shank whoever the fuck thought it was a good idea to jump him right now, only to see Youichi in all his muscle-y glory, approaching him.
The shock of Youichi’s presence—and those exposed biceps—stopped Ryousuke’s heart from beating for a quick second. He stayed rooted to his spot as Youichi stepped up to him, panting heavily and his broad chest heaving with him.
“You fucking asshole,” Youichi said, low and hurt. “You goddamn inconsiderate piece of human filth.”
Ryousuke was trying to pay attention. He really was. But Youichi was in a goddamn tank top.
“You’re going to just toss me away like that? Huh?”
Ryousuke snapped his head up at that, a vicious glare morphing his face as the fury replaced the arousal immediately.
“I thought I had been torturing you. You should be grateful that I let you go, free of charge, Youichi.” Ryousuke bit back, crossing his arms to put some distance between them. Youichi wasn’t going to allow that to slide, stepping into Ryousuke’s space and practically touching the other’s nose with his own.
Ryousuke was intensely aware of Youichi’s breath intermingling with his own as well as the mixture of aromatic cologne and slight perspiration infiltrating his nose and ingrained as Youichi’s own particular scent inside of his brain.
He was trying to pay attention, god damn it.
“Fuck you!” Youichi snarled. “You don’t get to just—mess with my head for an entire week and act like it never happened! Take fucking responsibility.”
“What the hell do you want me to do about it? Just—tell me what you want!” Ryousuke, usually so cool and collected, so in control, so unbothered, raised his voice for the first time in forever. Youichi brought out so many of his firsts.
Youichi stood there, staring at Ryousuke for a moment, lips pursed, and his shoulders squared. Ryousuke hadn’t a single clue whether Youichi was thinking of decking him or finally shoving him against the wall and fucking him. What was worse was that he wouldn’t mind either.
The ball dropped and Youichi snapped. He shot his hands out, grabbing Ryousuke by his forearms and pulling him close in order to crash their lips together in a heated kiss.
That was different.
Ryousuke shut down, shoving Youichi’s hands away so that he could freely wrap his arms around those broad shoulders—hallelujah—and kiss back with as much fervor as he was receiving. Youichi shoved Ryousuke back against the wall of the convenience store, moving his lips against Ryousuke’s own in a fierce languid motion, deep and slow with patient perseverance, getting all his feelings and emotions and anger out in a single kiss.
Ryousuke moaned, quickly taking control and coaxing Youichi’s tongue to slide against his own, deepening the already intense kiss.
The older had never felt so much relief and impatience all in one fucking moment. He wanted to stay there forever and, at the same time, tear off Youichi’s clothes so they can just get to the good part.
But, they had gotten to this point in a week which clearly meant that they needed to talk some more stuff out before they pursued anything else—if Youichi even wanted to pursue anything else.
For now, Ryousuke will just enjoy the shivers that ran down his spine as they continued their rather heated make-out session against the wall of that, very convenient, convenience store.
Unfortunately, the obligation to breathe outweighed Ryousuke’s desire to continue the kiss and they both broke away, breathing laboriously and staring into each other’s eyes with their foreheads pressed together, unwilling to break any skin contact either.
Ryousuke felt like he was in some sort of cliché chick flick because Youichi’s eyes glinted so prettily against the dim lighting of the lamp post across from them. The silence between them was not awkward nor bitter. It was pleasant and content. They had gotten something off their chests through that kiss and, well…
It was nice.
“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll make sure I get Eijun into my clutches as my protégé.” Ryousuke said, voice edging onto a malicious tease, biting his lip as Youichi raised an arched brow.
“Well then,” A smirk pulled at the corner of Youichi’s lip. “I guess we’ll have to strike up another deal.”
Ryousuke can work with that.
“When the fuck did this happen?!” Youichi gaped at the sight of Miyuki and Eijun pressed up against each other inside of the janitor’s closet. And it was quite the sight. Miyuki had his hand underneath Eijun’s shirt and Eijun’s lips were kissed red and slightly bitten.
“Oh my,” Ryousuke hummed, leaning against the door and holding up his phone to take pictures. “Now that’s ironic.”
“Uh,” Miyuki smiled sheepishly as Eijun hid his red face against his chest. “Surprise?”
Youichi felt his eyeball twitch. “I’m going to kill you!”
Maybe instead of worrying about whether Ryousuke was going to taint his brother, Youichi should have kept a closer eye on Eijun.
Well, whatever. Now Ryousuke had a little boy toy and more dirt on people.
This was going to be an interesting last year.