Work Text:
Akane didn’t know when he’d ended up with the sort of a friendship with Nene. Didn’t know when she had gone from just Ao-chan’s best friend to one of his as well.
He’d been friends with Nene for years, and he’d still been surprised the first time she’d plopped down in the seat next to his and started talking his ear off about whatever hot guy she’d been obsessed with at the time.
Now though, he was so used to it he didn’t even flinch when she appeared out of nowhere and immediately started talking about Minamoto’s perfect jawline.
It would have been disturbing, hearing her talk about the president , of all people, like that , if he wasn’t long desensitized to it. Nene was nothing if not tricked by a pretty face, and Minamoto’s face was more than pretty enough for her to completely overlook the bastard’s terrible personality.
Much of what she said were things Akane had heard a million times before, whether from Nene or from any of the other many girls who simped over the idea of Minamoto. It was never anything real, always something surface level like how tall he was, or pretty, or smart. The most it got into how he was as a person was that he was kind , which was frankly laughable if you knew him in the slightest. Minamoto was many things; he was ruthless, was brave and loyal and selfless to an extent that bordered on suicidal, but he was not kind.
Akane zoned back in to the sight of Nene looking at him expectantly, clearly waiting for the answer to a question Akane had not heard.
“Sorry, could you repeat the question?”
Akane felt bad for zoning out and practically ignoring her (no matter how boring the subject matter, she was still his friend and he owed her his attention), but she didn’t seem to mind all that much.
“Don’t you think Minamoto’s lips look soft?” And how was he even supposed to answer that? He didn’t exactly spend his time looking at the guy’s lips. But Nene was still looking at him expectantly, so he had to answer in some capacity.
“I-uh, sure.” Nene’s eyes brightened and she nodded, as if he had added anything meaningful to the conversation.
“I bet he’s such a good kisser, too…” Nene sighed dreamily, “don’t you think so?”
“Totally,” Akane responded. He felt a little sick.
“I mean, it makes sense, right? With so many girls after him, he’s bound to have plenty of experience.” Somehow, the thought of Minamoto kissing some girl felt wrong to Akane. He pushed the feeling down as best he could.
He stumbled his way awkwardly through the rest of the conversation with Yashiro, but far past its half-hearted continuance, he found himself pondering her words.
Because, though she’d brushed it off as Minamoto having a lot of kissing experience just because lots of people wanted to kiss him, Akane wasn’t so sure that was the case.
It wasn’t that Minamoto wasn’t cute. Hell, his attractiveness was undeniable, even to Akane’s (very uninterested) eyes. He was tall, with soft fluffy-looking blond hair and eyes that were almost supernaturally blue (and Akane was pretty sure they glowed, though he knew most people couldn’t see that). To top it all off, the bastard’s features were all perfectly proportioned.
Akane was sure that if the guy asked, he could kiss most anyone in the school, but he was just too damn hard to get close to. Everyone at the school seemed to view him like some sort of celebrity, someone to be pined over but never actually pursued, because the near impenetrable walls on his psyche kept everyone outside of a few choice people from seeing past his polite facade. So far as Akane knew, he and Ao-chan were the only people besides Minamoto’s own siblings who passed that qualification. Akane sure wasn’t kissing Minamoto (his face determinedly did not heat up at the thought), and Ao-chan wasn’t either. Or at least, Akane was pretty sure she wasn’t.
Akane groaned and threw himself from his bed. God, he wished he could just shut his damned brain off so he could stop thinking about Minamoto’s love life . Why the hell did he even care how good a kisser he was, or how soft his lips were.
He wandered over to his desk, plopping down in his chair as if being at his desk would make his thoughts sort themselves out. After a moment, in which his thoughts refused to untangle themselves from the knot they had formed in his head, he sighed, bringing out his math homework mechanically.
Maybe he was just happy to have possibly found something Minamoto wasn’t the best at. Wasn’t good at at all , if Akane’s theory held true.
While Akane wouldn’t call himself he most experienced kisser, he had kissed before; when they were in middle school, he and Lemon, in that particularly mortifying fashion only middle schoolers are able to achieve, had decided to practice kissing together so that if they ever dated anyone they would seem experienced (Akane had been extremely determined to not disappoint Ao-chan were they to ever kiss). Mortifying nature of the thing aside, that meant that Akane was most definitely a better kisser than Minamoto. The thought made him feel warm, a vicious grin overtaking his face.
He wished there were a way to tell, definitively, but the only way to properly check would be to kiss Minamoto himself, which-
Akane cut the thought off before it could complete itself, face aflame. He did not want to think about Minamoto’s love life, and he most certainly did not want to think about kissing Minamoto .
He forced himself back to his math homework with a vengeance, determined to ignore any thoughts of Minamoto. He didn’t sleep the rest of the night.
- - -
Akane couldn’t bring himself to regret joining the student council, even if it had done nothing towards his initial goal of using the status to woo Ao-chan.
He liked the extra work, liked that it kept him occupied and challenged him. He liked having control over things in the school, working together with his schoolmates to make sure things ran smoothly. Hell, he even liked working with Minamoto.
He had no way of knowing for sure, knew he would still know Minamoto and have had a part in working to reverse the severance, by the nature of his contract with the clock keepers. But if he weren’t on the student council, Minamoto would likely be just a vague oppressive force in his life, ensuring that he didn’t step out of line or go on a supernatural rampage or whatever else. If he’d never joined the student council, he wouldn’t have a begrudging friendship with the guy, wouldn’t know just how much he cared , how little regard he had for his own safety when it came to the people he cared about.
Akane couldn’t bring himself to regret any of that, but that didn’t mean he wanted to sit through every boring obsolete meeting. Even Suzuki was nodding off, and he had a stick so far up his ass Akane was surprised it didn’t come out the top of his head. Hell, the only person who seemed unbothered by all this was Minamoto, who was wearing the default smile Akane knew had withstood him getting impaled.
When it was over, the other members of the council vanished from the room before Akane could even try to make them help with the rest of the paperwork. Bastards.
Akane sighed, tore his longing gaze from the door, and turned to face Minamoto. “Those damn bastards, leaving us to do the work all ourselves again.”
“Well,” Minamoto’s lips curved up into a smile, and Akane found his eyes catching on the movement, “I suppose we’ve been left to the work yet again. We might as well get started.”
There was something dancing in Minamoto’s eyes, something far too happy for someone who had just been doomed to spend the afternoon doing paperwork, but before Akane could even begin to figure out what that was about, Minamoto was already turning and retaking his seat.
Figuring it wasn’t worth fighting it, Akane sat back down as well. It wasn’t like staying after school for work with Minamoto was unusual, but they usually didn’t have to do the other members’ work too. Still, with Minamoto there working with him, the time passed quickly, and before Akane knew it they were done.
Minamoto let out a yawn and stretched, bringing his arms back in the motion. Akane found his eyes dipping to where someone's shirt would usually ride up, but Minamoto had his tucked in as usual. Akane had the sick feeling that the reason Minamoto kept it tucked was to cover scarring. It made sense, with the guy’s insane life and utter lack of self preservation. Akane tore his eyes away and back to meet Minamoto’s gaze.
There was something teasing in his eyes, something amused in the turn of his mouth, and Akane felt ensnared against his will. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the gentle curve of Minamoto’s lips, so much smaller than the smile he usually wore and yet so much more real feeling. They sure looked soft, and Akane found himself wondering if Nene had been right.
His face flushed at the thought, and he forcibly turned his whole head away since his eyes refused to comply, scowl newly in place.
He was startled back into looking at Minamoto when he heard a quiet thunk next to him. Minamoto had his head resting face-first in his crossed arms, whole body slumped into it.
“…What are you doing.”
Minamoto tilted his head up just enough to peer up at Akane through his bangs. Akane could see the smile in his eyes when he spoke; “What, am I not allowed to take a break, now?”
The late afternoon sun shone in through the windows in beams, illuminating each soft golden lock on Minamoto’s head, and the shadow over his eyes only served to highlight the way they seemed to glow . Akane’s heart rate picked up at the sight, at the happy, teasing note in Minamoto’s eyes as he stared up at Akane.
Akane desperately clung to the thread of conversation, tried to dredge up his irritation as a way to void this sudden attraction, because he would not be dealing with that; “You’re the one who never takes breaks!”
“What,” Minamoto shifted, raised his head from his arms with a smirk clear on his lips, “Would you rather I don’t take a break? You’re the one who’s always insisting that I need to.”
The words would have been inflammatory, were this conversation taking place a few months ago. Now, though, there was a levity to Minamoto’s tone, a note of teasing that lacked the cruel edge Akane had so hated. Akane’s mouth ran dry.
“I didn’t… say that.” Akane did not know how to deal with this. Fuck, dealing with the guy’s tormenting had been easier. At least then it had been expected.
Minamoto laughed, and it was a clear, happy sound, one that had Akane’s lips twitching up at the corners. “You suck,” he said, but couldn’t bring himself to put any vitriol into it. Minamoto seemed to recognize this, because he only laughed harder. Akane couldn’t grudge him for it.
By the time they walked home, it was already getting dark, but it didn’t feel like the loss of an afternoon it should have.
- - -
Lips moved against Akane’s, simple and warm and soft , sending shivers down his spine with every motion. The smooth skin of Minamoto’s jaw was cold against his calloused fingers. He couldn’t stop his fingers from trailing along it, didn’t even try to.
Minamoto’s hands tangled in his hair and Akane gasped, reaching forward to drag Minamoto ever closer-
And he jolted awake, alone in his bedroom, face flushed and sweating in shame. “Fuck,” he said, emphatically, and it was the only sound to break the otherwise silent night.
- - -
The next day was… awkward. Where Akane usually didn’t hesitate to meet Minamoto’s gaze with a challenge, now he couldn’t even bring himself to look Minamoto in the eyes, because every time his eyes alighted on those lips, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way they had felt against his own, in the dream. Couldn’t stop wondering whether his lips really were that soft, whether kissing him would feel like it had.
It consumed his every waking thought, and Akane hated it. He almost wished he could just go back to hating Minamoto. That had been a hell of a lot simpler than wanting to kiss the shit out of him.
Avoiding actively seeing Minamoto was easy enough until the student council meeting (Akane had no such luck with thinking about Minamoto). Akane spent the whole time trying to find as many different places to look that weren’t at Minamoto , but it was becoming increasingly apparent that Akane stared at Minamoto all the damned time , because he had no idea where else to look.
Instead of dealing with that bombshell, Akane threw himself into his duties, listening intently to the whole of the dull thing and participating far more than his usual amount. He got strange looks from a couple of the members, but hey! It was worth not having to think about Minamoto! Wait, shit.
Akane had never been more relieved to hear that there would be no paperwork they would have to do, and he was just about ready to escape, practically throwing himself towards the door. Then, though, a hand grabbed the back of his shirt, and he heard a suspiciously Minamoto-sounding voice, “Aoi, I’d actually like to talk to you, if that’s alright.”
Akane would like nothing less, because that certainly wasn’t alright, but he knew Minamoto well enough to know that that was in no way a question, and he would be staying behind to talk with Minamoto whether he liked it or not.
Once everyone else had disappeared from the room, so too did Minamoto’s grip on the back of Akane’s collar, and Akane whirled around to face him.
Minamoto’s mouth was tilted downward ever so slightly, so small that most people wouldn’t even consider it a frown. His eyes had a coldness to them that Akane had not been subject to in a while. “What the fuck is up with you? You’ve been moody all day, you barely helped with the meeting, and you can’t even look me in the eye.” Minamoto’s words were cold, his voice colder.
Akane forced his eyes to Minamoto’s, fully ready to argue back, to make his words as cutting and severe as possible so Minamoto would leave him alone and maybe the damned feelings would go away. When he met Minamoto’s eyes, he stopped. Because underneath the coldness, unnoticeable if he hadn’t known Minamoto as well as he did, was an underlying current of hurt. Of pain that Akane had caused. The idea hit Akane, hurting far more than it should. Just months ago, he would’ve been delighted to see that his words could have an effect on the guy, but now the sight was like a punch to the gut.
Akane snapped his mouth shut, turned his head sharply to the side. He didn’t want to deal with this right now. Would much prefer to bury his newfound feelings under denial and vitriol and forget his obsession with Minamoto’s lips.
“So that’s how it’s going to be, then.” Minamoto’s voice sounded somehow colder, any remaining concern turned frigid and buried beneath it.
“Minamoto-“ Akane found his gaze once again found his gaze enraptured by those lips, even as they were blankly set. They still looked damned soft.
“No. You’ve made your stance perfectly-“
Akane didn’t let him finish. He stepped forward almost on autopilot, hands coming up to cup Minamoto’s jaw and pull him down so Akane could kiss him. Minamoto’s skin was as cold as ever, and his jaw fit nicely against Akane’s hands. He expected to be pushed away. Of course he would be pushed away, he had just randomly kissed the guy .
But then, after a moment of shock, instead of hands roughly shoving Akane away they came up to grasp at the back of his shirt. Akane deepened the kiss just slightly, and Minamoto let out a quiet gasp against his lips.
They would need to talk about this later. To sort out the tangled mess of their feelings for each other. But for now, Akane was just content to stand in an empty classroom and kiss a beautiful boy and his soft lips.