“Yukimura… You’re so… so hot when you’re drunk…”
“I haven’t drunk a single drop.”
Shiraishi straggled over to the barstool Yukimura was sitting on. His eyes were clouded with just a little more than a drunken haze, and his breaths were long and languid, like flustered sighs or slow pants.
Yukimura knew it was just the alcohol talking… probably. Seeing Shiraishi so drunk was strangely adorable, but it was also…
“You do know I could easily take advantage of you, don’t you?”
Shiraishi bumped his forehead with Yukimura’s own, set an unsteady foot on the hold of the barstool and took it upon himself to straddle Yukimura’s lap. It took all of Yukimura’s efforts to keep the two of them from falling over, and all of his willpower not to give in to Shiraishi’s invitation.
“Please… take advantage of me…”
Yukimura swallowed. He couldn’t do this.
Yukimura reached up with his hand, and let his finger circle the space under Shiraishi’s ear. Much to Shiraishi’s regret, Yukimura missed his mouth, but whispered in his other ear;
While you weren’t looking, I slipped a little something in your drink.”
“Something…?” Shiraishi slurred.
“Yes. A cute little poison of the Iohannis Brahmsum flower. Do you know it?”
“Within a few minutes of drinking it, your body will slowly become paralysed. From the tips of your fingers,” Yukimura let a finger of his other hand trail up Shiraishi’s arm, “to your spine,” down Shiraishi’s spine, sending shivers through it, “all the way to your very heart.”
“But there’s an easy remedy.”
“Yes. All you have to do, is soak yourself in water and find yourself three others who will do the same.”
“Kura-chan, you wanna die?”
“I mean, I can do that. Yes.”
Shiraishi then proceeded to get off Yukimura’s lap, and went to search for a source of water.
“You’re lucky we went to a bar in Chiba,” Koharu said to Yukimura. Yuuji was right on top of him, almost as drunk as the three idols, but fortunately drunk enough to stay out of the conversation.
“You have to make use of the available options, after all. Too bad I couldn’t have him strip.”
“You know it’s not fair to take advantage of him like that, don’t you?”
“It’s part of the fun. Besides, he himself asked for it.”
Yukimura looked over at Shiraishi, who was now finding a bucket of ice water and—
“Fuck that’s cold!”
“What the hell are you doing, Shiraishi?!”
The other two members watched the now trembling Shiraishi as his clothes slowly failed to be opaque.
“Kurarin still has such a sexy silhouette, right ♥”
Koharu held out his hand in a ring around his eye, looking at Shiraishi’s sharply visible abs.
“Are… Are you cheating on me, Koharu…”
“My heart is big enough for all of you, Hitouji-dear~”
“Quickly, you two!”
Shiraishi turned to the other members of SK3. “You two gotta do it too!”
“Otherwise I’ll die or something…!”
“Then die or something, I’m busy seeing whether Saeki is drunk.”
“But you gotta!” Shiraishi leaned against Sengoku, his wet clothes leaving stains on Sengoku’s. “I don’t wanna dieeeeee…”
“Strip…” Shiraishi murmured into himself.
“If you don’t, I’m gonna strip…!”
And true to his word, Shiraishi unbuttoned his shirt with practised precision.
“Maybe, you should help him, Sengoku,” Saeki said, ”He seems distressed.”
“I’m not distressed, I’m dying…! You gotta help me… Sengoku…”
Shiraishi threw his drenched shirt over at Yukimura, who then gracefully passed it over to an overjoyed Koharu.
“Here I’ll lend you a hand.”
And Saeki then proceeded to grab Sengoku’s hand.
Within the slightly slowed down timeframe of Sengoku switching between flustered, being shocked, being angry at Saeki and being angry at himself, Shiraishi took another bucket and emptied it over Sengoku’s head.
Yukimura chuckled as he watched the chaos unfold.
“Two more left… I’m half unpoisoned!”
You’re gonna pay!”
“What did I do.”
“You held my hand!”
“You did not like it?”
“…You’re still holding my hand.”
“You aren’t liking it?”
“Whether I like it or not is a different thing! I’m wet all over!”
Sengoku threw a meaningful glance at Shiraishi, who was already sneaking up on Saeki with another bucket.
Where does he get them anyway, Yukimura wondered. There probably were some lonely champagne bottles, slowly becoming lukewarm instead of cool.
“And what are you going to do with that bucket, Shiraishi?”
Saeki barely spotted Shiraishi in the corner of his eye, sharp enough to suddenly seem sober.
“So you aren’t drunk after all…!” Sengoku slurred.
“He is,” Shiraishi said.
“…Then prove it!”
Saeki leaned in to kiss Sengoku. The moment their lips connected, Shiraishi almost wanted to clap, but discovered just in time he was still holding the bucket. Of course, he first emptied its contents—
—before putting it down to clap.
“Why did you have to splash me twice…?!”
Sengoku, the owner of that screaming voice, shook his hair out to get the water out.
“…And, is he drunk?” Shiraishi asked.
Then it clicked with Sengoku.
“Am I drunk?”
Saeki surprisingly didn’t seem to mind the water too much. It was probably something about being raised near the beach, Yukimura thought. Or he was just too drunk to care.
Sengoku completely froze. Yukimura could almost see Sengoku’s soul leaving his body from the shock. For better or for worse, Shiraishi put his most valiant efforts into making Saeki reboot him.
“I’m telling you, True Love’s Kiss should work…!”
“The last one just shut him down though?”
“It’s probably, like… an on and off switch or something. Trust me, it’ll work…”
Yukimura’s attention, however, was caught by Koharu, gently shoving an aqua drink into his field of vision.
“Ah, what’s this?”
“Blueberry. It’s on the house~ ♥”
“Consider it a token of gratitude for your help with the boys.”
Certainly, the drink was aesthetically pleasing. The soft blue gradient was accentuated by the lemon piece, and the purple straw put a mild contrast against it. But should he really drink it, was the question.
Sure, it was a token of gratitude. But it also was Koharu. Koharu was very professional and strict at work, but off the job, he could be rather funny and unpredictable.
Yukimura absentmindedly stirred his straw while he was weighting the risks.
“That’s quite a girly drink you’ve got there. I thought adults drank cooler stuff.”
Yukimura looked up to see Sengoku, revived and well, although still a bit shaky.
“I’ll take it. Thanks, Koharu.”
“No problem~” Koharu said, adding a wink.
It was fruity and, fortunately enough, not too sweet. The vague hint of lemon balanced out the sweetness of the blueberry well, although there was something below it that he couldn’t quite place…
“It’s pretty good. Could you get me another one when I finish this?”
Yukimura sipped from his drink as he redirected his attention to Sengoku, however, he found Shiraishi to be much closer by.
“It’s no good… It’s no good at all, Yukimura…!”
Before Yukimura knew it, Shiraishi was back in his lap again.
“I couldn’t find a third person…” Shiraishi leaned into Yukimura’s chest, and started sobbing softly. “If… If I have to die… I want it to be in your arms…”
Heat flushed to Yukimura’s cheeks. How can you even say that when drunk?!
No, Shiraishi was drunk, that’s how he could say that.
He put his now empty glass down on the bar table and looked down at Shiraishi’s desperate face.
Slowly, gently he stroked Shiraishi’s hair. Sure, he maybe had spooked Shiraishi a bit too much in his prank, but if it gave Yukimura the opportunity to do this with a clear conscience— well, almost clear, anyway— then he would take that chance.
“Ssh… It’s gonna be alright.”
Yukimura wrapped his other arm around Shiraishi’s back, and in response, Shiraishi let out a low hum.
Shiraishi leaned forward, toppling them over. By sheer willpower, Yukimura could keep the stool from slipping away, but Shiraishi had him pinned firmly to the bar and Yukimura had no hold left to push him away.
His lips touched Yukimura’s. Yukimura’s protests were muted, and Yukimura’s resisting wrists were in Shiraishi’s sure grasp.
Shiraishi, don’t do this…! You’re drunk, and I’m not, and this isn’t right and we shouldn’t be—
Shiraishi came to Yukimura’s lips again with a deeper kiss.
—…and it feels so good…
Yukimura’s body yielded, surrendered to Shiraishi’s kisses, and the former sounds of protest started to sound more like hums of pleasure.
Shiraishi noticed this change, and slowly pulled back, leaving Yukimura breathless.
“…Now,” he whispered.
From behind Shiraishi, Yukimura was vaguely aware of two figures, approaching with a leisurely speed. He identified the faces as Sengoku and Saeki, and together they were holding a… a bucket?
Shiraishi smiled. “Everything will be alright.”
A bucket! Finally it dawned on Yukimura.
“Wait…, no, wait!”
Yukimura struggled to get out of Shiraishi’s hold, but abruptly stopped when felt the barstool almost give way. One wrong move and one of them could hit their head while falling.
“You’re gonna cure me, Yukimura.”
Both Saeki and Sengoku heaved the bucket upwards, smirks on their faces.
“No, no, nonononono, NO!”
It was cold. The freezing water hit his skin, seeped into his clothes. In a single moment, he felt his bodily heat disappear, felt his being be drenched to the bone.
Sure, Shiraishi himself caught a fair part of it, but he was already wet. That didn’t count.
Shiraishi leaned backwards, Yukimura moved upright, and they were back on steady stoolhold again.
And when Yukimura shook out his hair, Koharu became unable to hold his laughter. He managed to put Yukimura’s drink on the bar, just before doubling over in hysteria.
“Why are you laughing?” Shiraishi asked. Shiraishi wasn’t having any plans to leave Yukimura’s lap anytime soon, but at this point, that was fine by Yukimura.
“It’s just,” another bout of laughter. “What goes ‘round comes ‘round, right, Yukimura?”
Koharu wiped a tear as Yukimura threw him a sour face.
“I-It’s n-not funny… I-It’s really c-cold…”
“Trust me, it is.”
“C-Couldn’t you h-have s-stopped them?!”
“Oh, but you were so busy making out with Shiraishi, I didn’t want to interrupt ♥”
Koharu winked at Yukimura, whose face didn’t just turn a tad more sour, but also a whole lot redder.
“Just know that I won’t stop you two~”
Yukimura sighed. If things were to get out of hand, he could always blame it on Shiraishi’s drunkenness. With a bit of luck, Shiraishi wouldn’t even remember anything.
Yukimura wrapped an arm around Shiraishi’s waist again.
“Just shut up and pass me that drink, will you?”