Chapter Text
“Hey, Kami,” Eijirou calls, powering his handheld console off. He collapses backwards onto his pillows, starfish spreading on top of the covers. The action jostles Denki a little bit, but the blonde remains unbothered, bouncing along with the mattress’ recoil.
Denki adjusts his cross-legged sitting position to accommodate for the sprawled arms and legs. He blinks away from his phone screen to fix a lazy, questioning look unto Eijirou. Eijirou smirks at Denki’s slight disorientation, nudging his side with his knee to ground him back to Earth.
“I’ve always wanted to ask—you flirt with everyone in class, but I’ve never heard you mention an actual crush.”
“Ah, dude, I have one,” Denki responds, so easily that Eijirou regrets not asking sooner. “But he’s so out of my league, it’s not even funny. ‘S why I don’t talk about it.”
Denki prods the arm closest to him. It’s code for I want to lie down; move, you oaf, which Eijirou is all too happy to oblige. He turns on his side to prop himself on the offending arm, smiling at the pleased sound Denki makes when he flops onto his stomach.
A thick lock of his pretty, soft hair falls in his eyes as he does so, so Eijirou unthinkingly reaches over and sweeps it behind his ear. Denki closes his eyes obediently. He reminds Eijirou of a puppy getting a haircut.
“Give me a few hints, Kami,” he grins. He pats Denki’s bangs in place for good measure.
“You really wanna do this, man?” Denki laughs.
“Come on,” Eijirou coaxes, lightly kicking Denki’s leg. Denki has started to blush pink, and Eijirou can’t help but stare. “I’m curious.”
Denki rolls his eyes, but the fond grin on his face tells Eijirou he’s won. “Fine,” Denki concedes, shoving his phone under the pillow.
“He’s in our class,” he begins. “Super kind-hearted. Brave.”
“That’s every guy in the class,” Eijirou whines, before quickly revising the thought. “Wait. Almost every guy. I can at least exclude Mineta.”
Denki snorts in surprise. “Wow, you’re actually such a dick,” Denki chortles, but to Eijirou’s amusement, he doesn’t disagree. Feeling emboldened by Denki’s laughter, Eijirou kicks his leg again, prompting him to continue.
“Okay, okay! I’m getting to it. He’s, uh, really hot,” Denki chuckles, bashful. He plays with the ends of Eijirou’s pillowcase, avoiding Eijirou’s gaze. “He works out a lot. Like, always at the gym, has weights in his room. The whole shebang.”
Eijirou raises an eyebrow, watching the way Denki’s fingers twist in the cloth. “Okay. That’s half the boys eliminated. And?”
“And,” Denki repeats softly, pausing to peek at Eijirou from the corner of his eye. He falls quiet, suddenly. Calculating.
Eijirou’s gut lurches with butterflies. His instincts tell him he will either love or hate whatever comes out of Denki’s mouth next.
“He adores all things manly,” Denki whispers. Eijirou’s heart skips. “He has the coolest red hair. He always, always wears a smile.
“He’s my best friend.”
(The look on Denki’s face is impossibly tender. As it turns out, Eijirou’s instincts are right.)
He wiggles onto his stomach to press his side against Denki’s. Before Denki can react, he throws an arm around Denki’s waist, nuzzling closer.
“Kiri!” Denki yelps.
“Kami, you’re wrong,” Eijirou says bluntly. “How could anyone be out of your league?
“You’re the most gorgeous,” Eijirou asserts, punctuating the confession with another nuzzle. “The funniest!” he exclaims, tightening the arm slung around Denki’s waist. “The manliest!”
Eijirou can’t help but giggle, so giddy as he pulls back to look at Denki’s face, which has gone slack with wonder. “I like you, too, Kami. I like you a lot.”
Denki gapes for another two seconds before huffing and burying his face in the pillow. “You’re so much,” he mumbles. Eijirou pouts, and has half a mind to shake him when Denki very carefully flips onto his back.
“Come here,” Denki murmurs, face completely red now. His smile is small and shy. “Kiss me.”
Eijirou’s cheeks hurt with the force of his happiness. “Yes, sir,” he chirps.
(And he does.)