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"Yamada-kun!"
Ichiro turned and looked down the hall to find his homeroom teacher sticking her head out from their classroom, flapping one hand to flag him down. "Yeah?"
"Tie."
Tie?
Ichiro blinked down at himself, his uniform. "I'm wearing it…?"
"Not yours. Aohitsugi-kun's!"
Ah.
"Okay, just a sec."
Ichiro had three folding chairs under each arm; a girl from a neighboring class had asked him to grab a few more for them, since they were just a bit short for Parents' Day. Ichiro dropped those off, and accepted a box of strawberry milk as thanks, before heading back to his own class.
It was kind of funny, and kind of something he took pride in. That all the teachers knew to take it up with him if they had a problem with the way Samatoki was dressed.
Samatoki was always violating the dress code in this or that way. It was never anything too egregious, and their school was fairly lax about these things anyway, so he rarely ever got into any real trouble for not wearing his tie or having a few too many buttons of his shirt popped open.
But all his teachers had quickly learned that giving him a stern talking-to would only get them one hell of an attitude in return.
They also learned, almost just as quickly, that taking their grievances straight to Yamada Ichiro was much more likely to get them a desirable result.
Ichiro had childhood friend privileges, after all. (And, though their teachers didn't know this part, he had more recently acquired boyfriend privileges too.)
He stopped by his desk and grabbed the extra tie he kept there, before pulling his chair over to Samatoki's desk just a few seats away. They still had a few minutes left of break before their next class, during which their grade's parents were due to arrive.
Samatoki was spending those last few minutes slumped over his desk, eyes closed, head pillowed on one arm, other arm stretched out, long fingers dangling prettily over the edge—just like a cat basking in a beam of sunlight.
Ichiro caught Samatoki's free hand and tangled their fingers together as he slid down to sit in front of him. "Samatoki. Lift your head for me real quick?"
Samatoki grumbled something unintelligible into the crook of his arm, but obligingly rose at the sound of Ichiro's voice.
"Kiss?" he mumbled blearily.
Ichiro had to bite back a fiercely enamored grin. "We're in class. I need to put on your tie."
Samatoki gave another little huff of discontentment, but didn't protest or fight it when Ichiro slid the tie around his neck to knot it for him. He even held still once Ichiro finished and started to fuss with his hair instead.
"What's the special occasion?" Samatoki asked, finally sounding a bit more awake after cracking a wide yawn.
"Parents' Day," Ichiro reminded.
Samatoki snorted. "That's all? Not like ours are coming."
Ichiro's face fell just a little; Samatoki was right, of course. They were both used to not having their parents there for Parents' Day, both used to seeing the day as nothing special at all.
But their teachers cared, about appearances. Some of their peers cared, too.
And…
"I know," Ichiro said, sliding his hands back to the knot of Samatoki's tie and loosening it a bit, 'fixing' it to sit ever-so-slightly crooked. "But I think you look extra cute like this."
And maybe it was a wholly selfish thing for Ichiro. Maybe he was always eager to get Samatoki into his tie when asked, because this look? Samatoki, in a loose-fitting cardigan—Ichiro's cardigan—and a tie that sat just a little askew?
Ichiro could never get enough of this look.
"Cute?" Samatoki echoed, with a scrunch of his nose that only made him look cuter.
"Gorgeous," Ichiro corrected. "Hot. Sexy. Irresistible."
Samatoki hummed, then, seemingly placated. Though after a moment, he did add, "If I'm so irresistible, where's my kiss?"
Ichiro breathed a laugh. He leaned in and brushed a kiss to Samatoki's forehead, but already knew that wouldn't be enough. Before Samatoki could complain, Ichiro unwrapped the straw of the box of strawberry milk he'd gotten, stuck it in, and took a sip.
Then held it up, for Samatoki to kiss.