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Tatsumi had seen the hickies littering Hiiro’s neck—HiMERU had been careful, but Amagi, apparently, had not; typical—had asked him what had happened, and Hiiro had replied cheerfully, “I had sex with HiMERU-san!”
And now Tatsumi is at HiMERU’s door, wearing a frown and looking more reproving than HiMERU has ever seen him. What a fucking hypocrite.
“Can HiMERU help you?” he asks in his most bored tone of voice, already angling the door steadily shut, little by little. Tatsumi has been here for five seconds, and HiMERU is already ready for him to leave.
Tatsumi is also, unfortunately, standing in such a way that his foot is wedged in the door frame so HiMERU can’t close it. He knows this because he tries, and even when he makes earnest attempts, going so far as to shut the door on Tatsumi’s toes, the foot doesn’t budge.
“Ow. HiMERU-san, may we speak privately?”
HiMERU bites back an impatient sigh and grits out, “Please, come in.”
Tatsumi’s frown deepens, and his forehead furrows like he’s struggling to find the words to say. “I noticed that Hiiro-san was injured today.”
And did you mistake me for a doctor? is right on the top of his tongue, but HiMERU manages to swallow it down. He does… like Hiiro, after a fashion.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m assuming you got him to a doctor?”
The wheels in his head are turning now, and Amagi is going to be unbearable if his younger brother is injured. He’s not sure Crazy:B will weather another incident.
Tatsumi shakes his head, frustrated with his own delicate speech.
“Not that kind of injury. HiMERU-san,” he says clearly. “Hiiro-san has, ah, love bites all over his neck, and I’m told they’re from you.”
Oh. Well.
This is both better and worse. HiMERU is relieved to hear that no harm had befallen Hiiro, but this is not a conversation he wants to have with Tatsumi, of all people. Although it’s a little delicious, isn’t it? To have defiled Tatsumi’s cute little kohai and to have him so clearly disturbed by it. Some part of him wants to drag this out, just a little, but his care for Hiiro and distaste for being in Tatsumi’s presence win out.
HiMERU crosses his arms. “It’s really none of your business, is it?”
Tatsumi’s frown deepens. “Hiiro-san is my kouhai and my friend. It’s only natural that I make sure that no harm comes to him.”
“HiMERU didn’t harm Amagi’s younger brother, he assures you. What transpired was completely consensual. If you want more details, HiMERU suggests you talk to Hiiro-san yourself.” Or better yet, butt out entirely.
“Yes, I… suppose you’re right.” Tatsumi shifts uncomfortably.
Well, that was easier than HiMERU thought. Is that a blush on Tatsumi’s face? He still looks troubled, not that HiMERU cares.
“If there’s nothing else…?” HiMERU says, brow quirked in Tatsumi’s direction. He walks the short distance to the door and opens it again, holding it in a clear invitation for Tatsumi to leave.
“Yes, actually… There was one more thing.” Tatsumi loses the sheepish, embarrassed expression and squares his shoulders. Oh, lord, he’s playing the hero, how disgusting. “What are your intentions with Hiiro-san?”
“That is also none of your business,” HiMERU says, deadpan, and this time he does slam the door in Tatsumi’s face.
It’s very satisfying.
That could have gone worse, all things considered. HiMERU could have told him about the incest.
* * *
He doesn’t mean to bring it up to Amagi Rinne, he really doesn’t. This is, by any stretch of the imagination, not his concern. Still, their next practice finds them alone in the practice room, the last ones left after Shiina and Oukawa head off in the direction of the cafeteria, leaving HiMERU to pack up their music as their unit leader scrolls through his phone, frowning.
Little dings like the sound of pachinko machines blare tinny from the speakers, and HiMERU looks up, brows raised.
“Can’t you leave that alone for one second?”
Rinne waves a hand in his direction, holding a finger up. A few more taps on his screen and he tucks his phone back into the pocket of his practice sweats, a relieved, easy smile slicking over his face like an addict who’s gotten his fix. Which is what he is, so.
“What’s up, Merumeru? Did you need something from your nii-chan?”
HiMERU’s face twists in disgust. “Don’t call yourself that. Kazehaya paid HiMERU a visit today to talk about Amagi’s younger brother.”
“Oh?” Rinne hangs off HiMERU’s shoulders, draping himself over HiMERU’s back. It’s uncomfortable in the warm practice room—too hot, especially when they’re both still sweaty from practice. HiMERU tries to shrug Rinne off, but Rinne hangs on, undaunted, slipping his arms around HiMERU’s neck to get a better grip, and HiMERU gives up fighting it. “And how’s my cute little brother doing?”
HiMERU turns toward Rinne, putting their faces so close together that he can smell the chemical, berry tang of Rinne’s energy drink. His eyes look very blue from here.
“He wanted to know why Hiiro-san’s neck was all marked up like a wild animal got to him,” HiMERU says flatly. “You ought to be more careful.”
Rinne chuckles softly, burying his face in HiMERU’s neck in a way that makes HiMERU tense before forcing himself to relax by deep breathing and slow degrees. “Whoops.”
HiMERU suppresses the shiver that wants to run through him at the feeling of Rinne’s face breath tickling his neck.
“So what’d you tell him?”
It takes him a few seconds to pry his mind away from the sensation of the words gusting over his skin, and when he realizes it, he’s annoyed and shoves Rinne off.
“That it was none of his business.”
Rinne snorts at that.
“He assumed it was HiMERU’s fault, of course.”
“Oh? Is there some dark, sordid past with Tatsumi-kun that I should know about?” Rinne props his head on his chin. “Some kind of insider information? You know when we got it on, you never so much as put your mouth—”
“Leave it alone,” HiMERU says sharply.
Maybe there’s something in his voice or more likely something in his face—his cheeks feel tight and hot, and his performance of himself no longer feels as flawless as it could be.
Whatever it is, it has Amagi Rinne holding up both of his long-fingered hands in surrender. “Sorry,” he says, tugging on the hair at the back of his neck. It’s an awkward gesture on him. Apology doesn’t suit Rinne.
HiMERU ignores him and gathers the rest of his things. They walk out together and go their separate ways in the hallway.
“Hey.” Rinne stops him, and HiMERU waits. “Thanks,” Rinne says. “For not outing me, or whatever.”
“HiMERU didn’t do it for you.”
Rinne laughs. “Well, whatever.”
“You’re welcome,” HiMERU says belatedly, and Rinne waves a hand without turning around, already heading off to who knows where.
* * *
HiMERU doesn’t believe in God. It has nothing to do with Tatsumi and more to do with the fact that an elegant creator surely wouldn’t have made the epic clusterfuck that is his life. Still, sometimes it’s hard to think that there isn’t someone up there who finds all of this shit very, very funny.
Hiiro’s unit is… odd. The walking abomination that is Kazehaya Tatsumi aside, the rest of them are rejects that have been scraped from the bottom of the barrel somewhere, or in Ayase’s case, dragged up from some dark and lightless underworld like a mushroom.
The fact that he’s currently in HiMERU’s walls does nothing to disabuse HiMERU of this notion.
It’s sometime on the wrong side of midnight, long after HiMERU had gone to sleep. The rest of his roommates are snoring softly in their beds, the room cool and dark except for the occasional blink of some electronic device. HiMERU waits, sweat prickling all over his body, and the scuttling noise that had clearly woken him up comes again.
The light reflects off a pair of eyes in his ceiling that disappear with a high-pitched hii~! when HiMERU sees them.
“What the fuck,” he says out loud, shrinking down instinctively into his bed.
Arashi stirs in her sleep across the room, and HiMERU stays very still, hoping that whatever this is will stop. The scuttling starts back up again, and HiMERU is tired and annoyed on top of feeling very, very creeped out. He gets out of bed as quietly as he can, finding his shoes and tugging his practice jacket over the sleep clothes he’s already wearing.
Arashi turns over, reaching blearily for her glasses. “Nngh? What is it, HiMERU-chan?”
“Nothing,” HiMERU whispers. “Go back to bed.”
She mutters something unintelligible and rolls over again, leaving HiMERU to tiptoe around Tetora’s bed and quickly slip out the door into the hall, letting as little light in as possible.
He stands blearily blinking in the hall, glaring up at the ceiling, reaching up and thumping his fist against the upper portion of the hallway wall in the general direction of what he assumes are Ayase’s whereabouts.
He does it once, twice, smacking the plaster with the flat of his hand. He pauses, listening for the telltale sound of scuttling, but there’s nothing. He thinks about doing it again but then thinks better of it. The ES dorms are well-built, but his roommates are still sleeping on the other side of the wall. There’s no reason to disturb them too.
He sighs, running a tired hand through his hair and staring down the empty corridor.
At least there’s no one around to see him behaving this way at this hour of the night. He doesn’t even know what time it is. The usual low level of background noise in the dorms has quieted, and there’s nothing but the low hum of the heater, the thin buzz of the electric lights.
He should go back to bed. He should, and yet the idea of someone peering at him while he sleeps fills him with a shivering kind of revolting dread. He… can’t sleep in there. This is very fucking annoying, and he knows exactly whose problem he can make it.
HiMERU stands in the hallway pounding on Tatsumi’s door, forgetting who exactly Tatsumi rooms with and not particularly caring either way.
He hears a loud, frustrated growl from inside and then a low, murmuring voice. Another voice, sharper and more frustrated, and it’s only another minute before Tatsumi is opening the door, looking rumpled and tired.
“HiMERU-san?”
“Your creepy unit-mate was peering at HiMERU through the ceiling. Can’t you control your pets?”
Tatsumi’s frown deepens and twists. “Please don’t talk about Mayoi-san like that.”
HiMERU stares at him. “But you’re not denying he was in my walls.”
Tatsumi looks down, a vague blush coloring his cheeks as he runs a hand through hair that’s honestly freakishly neat for this time of night. He doesn’t ask if HiMERU is sure, and honestly that kind of just pisses him off more. “I’m very sorry he disturbed you. I’ll talk to him about it.”
“Do you have to do this right now?” a voice hisses from further in the room—Oogami with a pillow shoved over his head, flicking his middle finger in their general direction.
Tatsumi winces. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”
“Don’t,” HiMERU says. “Just fix it.” He fixes Tatsumi with a serious glare. “And make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Tatsumi nods, tired, tired. HiMERU has the frustrated urge to yank the door out of his hand and slam it shut, but he doesn’t, and Tatsumi lowers it back into place gently. The door to their room locks with a subtle click, and HiMERU is left out in the hallway, eyes dry and irritated, staring at Tatsumi’s locked door.
There’s another mumbled exchange behind it, and HiMERU thinks about pounding on it again just to make sure Tatsumi can’t sleep. He’d wanted some kind of resolution, imagined Tatsumi would fix this somehow. How is it fair that he’s the only one who can’t sleep?
He finds himself outside Rinne’s door, somehow. He has to pound on it a lot longer before he can even hear the sound of shuffling inside, long enough that he’s probably becoming a nuisance to Rinne’s neighbors. He’s behaving so horribly today.
“Oya?” Rinne says when he answers the door, long red hair mussed, sticking in every which direction. He yawns so wide that his jaw pops and tears spring to the corner of his eyes. “Merumeru, what are you doing here? Did I—” yawn “—sleep through rehearsal again?”
HiMERU considers simply pushing his way past Rinne, but Rinne is obnoxiously tall and blocking the door.
“Your younger brother’s unit-mates are terrorizing HiMERU. You should let HiMERU stay here since it’s all your fault.” He looks up at Rinne through bleary, red-rimmed eyes. “I’m tired.”
It sounds huffy even as he says it, but really, it can’t be helped.
Rinne is just looking at him through eyes that are still only half-open, face still blank and slack and open with sleep. He’s not saying anything and nor is he moving, and this was just. A very stupid idea, wasn’t it?
“Forget it,” HiMERU says, already turning away, unable to bear the slack-jawed scrutiny, asking Rinne for something in the hall in the middle of the night. He’s regrettably far too awake for this and yet still living in that funhouse mirror space on the wrong side of early and late when nothing feels quite real, and that’s a feeling that he struggles with at the best of times, so.
“Hey, no.”
Rinne’s hand is warm when it wraps around his arm. He can feel Rinne’s heat even through his jacket.
“Come in, come in. S’fine. It’s only me in here tonight anyway.” He swings the door wide and steps back so HiMERU can come in, already yawning again.
HiMERU still has no idea what time it is. There’s a digital clock on the dresser beside Rinne’s bed, but the wad of clothing draped over it obscures everything but the last two glowing numbers. Rinne’s room is quiet and warm and dark, and it smells like him.
HiMERU hasn’t gotten as far as wondering where he could possibly sleep—the floor, probably, if he manages to think it through—but Rinne is smacking his lips sleepily and tugging HiMERU into his bed that’s soft and still warm from his body heat, pulling him close and wrapping an arm around HiMERU like this is something they do every day.
The smell of Rinne intensifies once his blankets are wrapped around HiMERU, warm and masculine and a little spicy. It smells like Rinne’s body wash and cologne, like cigarettes and the lingering burn of alcohol. It feels, HiMERU is unsettled to discover, almost shockingly familiar.
One of Rinne’s strong legs brushes against his, tangling against him under the covers, and it feels, somehow, almost overwhelmingly intimate. He feels hot all over, overdressed and buried in Rinne’s massive pile of comforters, trapped next to the furnace of Rinne’s body heat. He refuses to strip his jacket off.
“Go to sleep, Merumeru,” Rinne mumbles in the dark. “I can feel you looking at me. Whatever it is, we’ll fix it tomorrow.”
HiMERU grumbles under his breath, and Rinne laughs. This close, he can feel it, the vibrations from Rinne’s chest traveling through the space where their bodies are pressed together, into HiMERU’s ribcage, into his heart. He turns around—the feeling of having Rinne’s face so close to his own is too unsettling, especially when he can feel his warm breath brushing across his lips.
HiMERU shifts and resettles, and Rinne takes it as an invitation to spoon him, slinging a heavy arm across HiMERU and dragging him close, until they’re pressed together from HiMERU’s back down to his toes. Rinne’s feet are cold beneath the covers. HiMERU doesn’t know why he finds the fact oddly cute.
The room is dark, and there’s no one here to watch him. Every so often, the digital clock ticks softly as another minute goes by. A faucet is dripping somewhere in the bathroom, steady plink-plink-plinks like a lullaby. HiMERU lets out a heavy sigh. He falls asleep to the feeling of Rinne’s arm snugged tight around his chest, Rinne’s nose buried in the top of his head, ruffling his hair softly as he snores.