Archive of Our Own ^beta

At first, it was all cute and funny to see the two absolute dorks falling and pining for each other and being the only ones having absolutely no clue about it. It used to be a fun little game for the rest of the 78th to bet and see when the twosome will finally move on from bros to boyfriends, and it was hilarious to see the awkwardness from both sides whenever the class staged an intervention for possible love confessions (preferably cheesiest as can be) and totally-not-dates. But now—

"Kyoudai!" The unmistakable voice of Ishimaru Kiyotaka echoed along the hall as he speed-walked ("Speed-walking!" The prefect would correct sourly every time someone called him out on it. "Not running. I merely walk twice as fast!") towards the chatting pair, who paused their conversation to look. Chihiro and Oowada Mondo turned around to spot the prefect, his normally rigid back a little slouched, his normally pristine uniform littered with small wrinkles, and a small cloth-bound package in his hands. He stood still for a moment once he was in front of the two, hands on his knees as he breathed deeply and caught his breath.

"You—ah, you forgot something, kyoudai." He managed to breathe out through his pants, straightening his back and stretching out his arms for Oowada to take the said item. Oowada's brain seemed to buffer a little at the notion, as he merely stared at the offering for a few moments, a slight pink tinge threatening to invade his cheeks when he finally moved and slowly took the package from the bowing man.

"Aw, ya didn' hafta, ya nerd," Oowada grouched affectionately (how was that even possible??), letting out a bated, but happy sigh as he straightened Ishimaru's unusually not-pristine uniform, who in turn looked especially unimpressed at the biker's actions. "Now look, your uniform's all wrinkled n' shit from your "speed-walking" around." Ishimaru crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Oowada with his bottom lip sticking out to a.... pout? 

"Language. And, well," Ishimaru started crossly and coughed into his hand pointedly. He straightened up, tilting his head upwards and gave the other man a playful glare. "I wasn't the one who forgot their lunch after someone had made it especially just for them."

At the drastic change in the white-clad man's demeanor, Oowada blinked, before barking out loud laughter and ruffled the ruffled Ishimaru's hair for good measure. "Hah, well, 'm sorry, then, Kiyo," the biker grinned. He smiled down at the normally stoic and rigid man, his arms snaking towards Ishimaru's shoulder before pulling him straight towards his chest. Ishimaru yelped in surprise, cheeks reddening at the proximity as his mouth opened to stutter out his protests.

Any flustered retorts or complaints by the hall monitor were promptly silenced, however, by a swift and chaste kiss (a purely "PLATONIC" kiss, Mondo would surely argue later) to his forehead, which made Ishimaru's face significantly redder than before. "Thanks, bro," the biker had said cheekily, grin widening at the sight of the flailing Ishimaru in his arms, "you really are the best."

"Kyoudai! That is extremely inappropriate in the school grounds!" Ishimaru squeaked out once he did manage to flail his way out of the chuckling biker's death grip. He jabbed an accusing finger on Oowada's chest with his right hand, the other fishing for his detention slips in his bag. "You know what I'll have to do about that!"

When Ishimaru finally did manage to find it, he scribbled out Oowada's name on the front-most slip, babbling all the while that "even though they might be quote—the absolute best of bros—unquote, public displays of affection is nowhere near acceptable within the school walls". Ishimaru ripped the slip off the rest neatly before pushing it against Oowada's chest, frowning at him all the while, though the pink tinge in his cheeks drastically took away any venom he might have been trying to portray. "I am very sorry, but you gave me no choice." 

Oowada groaned at the sight of the little slip of paper, but he didn't seem to particularly mind nevertheless. "Eh, fuck the rules," the biker grumbled with a roll of his eyes as he snatched the paper off the prefect's hand, much to Ishimaru's annoyance. The biker pointedly ignored the way Ishimaru's scowl was deepening at his reply, scanning the paper boredly before finally sighing in defeat.

"Well, whatever," He grinned instead, reaching over to sling his arm towards Ishimaru again, who spluttered and avoided Oowada's attack to no avail, "means more time to spend with ya, right?" Oowada laughed and mussed up Ishimaru's hair again despite the latter's very much voiced complaints. 

This time, the Ultimate Moral Compass managed to get out of Oowada's hug fairly quicker than the last one. He paused suddenly, ruby eyes finding the programmer's, as though he finally just realized that Chihiro was just awkwardly standing there, too. Ishimaru blinked for a moment and perked up at the sight of the programmer. "Good morning, Fujisaki-san!" He greeted warmly, bowing a little. "I apologize for not greeting you earlier, I did not notice you there! I was too busy talking to my bro!"

Wow. Chihiro knew they had it bad, but really? That felt kind of like a slap on the face. Chihiro smiled— or tried to, for a more appropriate wording, as it felt like more of a grimace than what one would call a smile. "Good morning to you too, Ishimaru-kun. It's fine, I noticed."

Ishimaru looked a little guilty for that, but after a little half-hearted coaxing from Chihiro he went back to his normal mood. He straightened up after a few more bows towards Chihiro (which they repeatedly and awkwardly told him to stop), smoothing his uniform from any more wrinkles before giving programmer his familiar salute.

"I'm afraid I have to take my leave now. Duty calls!" He said, giving the programmer a small smile. He swiveled and turned to face Oowada once more, salute still in place.

"As for you, kyoudai!" He proclaimed loudly, bringing his hand down to rest on the biker's shoulder. He also gave the biker a smile, but it was warmer and bigger and far softer and seemed to hold much more emotion than what he gave Chihiro. "I believe we have something to work out on later. Don't be late!" His "friendly" pat lingered for moment too long, as did his absolutely "platonic" look of love at Oowada's eyes before finally marching off to god-knows where.

Oowada grinned after him. "Seeya later, you nerd!" He shouted, waving at Ishimaru and laughing when the latter yelled "no shouting in the halls!" in reply. Oowada stared longingly after Ishimaru's retreating back, a small smile worming slowly on his face. 

He finally took his eyes off Ishimaru's fucking ass after the Ultimate Moral Compass turned a corner and shook his head fondly, an unnatural soft smile on his face. "Man, that guy," he chuckled to himself, bringing his hands to his pink-tinged face and sighing fucking dreamily.

Chihiro just can't take this anymore. They swiveled towards the still love-struck biker, grabbing his jacket with both of their little hands and shook the other man with all the force their tiny frame could possibly offer. "Please, Oowada-kun," the programmer said, already near tears. "Just ask him out already. Make out in the lockers. Just please, please tell him you're in love with him."

"Wh—what?!" Eyes widening to a dinner plate, Oowada spluttered and choked over his words, dark crimson quickly taking over his tan complexion. His eyes shifted and twitched as he tried to regain the composure he's never had in the first place (and failing miserably). "O-oi! Where in the fuck did you get that shit idea from?! That fucking idiot Leon— he's fucking dead!"

Chihiro just closed their eyes and screamed internally, wondering just what they did to deserve this kind of punishment.