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    Summary

    "Th'fuck?" Shouta slurred. And then, seeming to notice the slur. "Th'FUCK? D'jou fuckn drug me, Zashi?"

    The blonde slunk up his best friend's body like a jungle cat, eyes radioactive as they drank in the expression on Shouta's face. He was trying so hard, eyes drooping, mouth drawn down in a drastic frown, looking excited and betrayed and a little like he'd had a stroke because he couldn't seem to control half the muscles in his gorgeously pissed off face.

    Hizashi leaned in close until their faces were less than an inch apart, and smiled darkly.

    "Turnabout is a bitch, huh? Don't worry though. I'll leave you a few clues to help you piece together what happened in the morning."

     

    [Or: Shouta and Hizashi are best-friends-with-benefits, and pieces of shit to boot, but sometimes Hizashi likes to remind Shouta who taught him how to be a piece of shit in the first place.]

    Language:
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