Chapter Text
they were friends. teammates. nothing more, nothing less. and yuno had never questioned that—not even once.
they had been through life and death, quite literally. had fought head-to-head against monsters and stood side by side to defeat devils. had rested on each other’s shoulders when exhaustion took over after long missions. had been there for each other’s birthdays, celebratory dinners, and even feuding games.
all completely platonic.
until—
“yuno,” mimosa called his name, her voice delicate as if she wasn’t about to ruin his entire night. “can you help me with something?”
he glanced up from his book, his eyes flickering to her reflection in the bedroom mirror. her back was turned to him.
mimosa was wearing a dress.
not just any dress, but a green one. one that looked too alluring on her. had he mentioned before that she looked amazing in green? and it hugged her in a way that made him stare a second too long before he forced himself to look away.
yuno wasn’t sure if that was a good thing—or an entirely different matter altogether.
so, he focused on the reflection of her face instead.
another mistake.
because, gods, she looked too gorgeous.
it was that time of the year again. the annual star awards festival had taken place earlier. the golden dawn had once again secured the title of top squad, earning the most stars that year. and, unsurprisingly, yuno had once again received the highest number of stars within the squad. another honor, another achievement. this year, however, king julius had bestowed upon him the title of grand magic knight—the youngest to ever reach that rank.
but in this moment, none of that seemed to matter.
because here he was, sitting in mimosa’s room, waiting for her to get ready for the exclusive afterparty. was this his reward? no. this was certainly just the beginning.
he could not believe he was getting a vip view of such an intimate moment in her room. a scene just for him, to be etched into his stupid, stupid brain. a front-row seat to a sight so rare, so fleeting, that only the luckiest of men could ever dream of experiencing it.
yuno almost felt sorry for her. here she was, trusting a perverted man (all thanks to the unholy thoughts that reeled into his mind the instant he looked up at her goddess-like figure) to help her with the dress. she must have trusted him enough to ask, like a dear friend or something.
he should be in hell.
“my zipper is stuck,” she said, shifting her golden curls over one shoulder. she was too enticing for her own good, and yuno officially declared himself the most blessed man alive. then, she met his gaze through the mirror, and he realized—she had the most bewitching eyes he had ever seen.
“would you mind?”
he continued to stare.
and, really, he should have said no.
not because it was inappropriate for a man to zip up a woman’s dress. not because it was strange for a male friend to do this for his female friend. not because it was taboo to be alone in a room with a lady and be asked to assist her with her stuck dress as a goddamn gentleman. but because something deep in his chest—something instinctual, something dangerous—warned him that if he got too close, if he let himself touch her, even just a little… something in him would break.
yet he couldn’t help it. not when she looked at him like that. like she trusted him. like she saw him as her teammate, her friend, and nothing more.
damn it to hell.
yuno swallowed whatever he was feeling and stood up to assist her—like a good friend should.
suddenly, that title tasted like acid in his throat.
the air between them shifted the moment he stepped behind her. his fingers hovered over the fabric at the base of her back, hesitating. he wasn’t sure, but did mimosa just go completely still? maybe.
“i’ll try to get it,” yuno murmured, his voice lower than he intended. she only hummed in response, a clear indication that she was comfortable with this. that nothing was weird about it.
but then, when his fingertips brushed against her bare skin just below her spine—she shivered.
yuno tried his best to swallow a gulp.
he needed to get this over with. to fix the zipper, step away, and then return to being strictly platonic. a hundred percent platonic (he didn’t even know if they could go back to it after whatever this abomination of a thing was). so he gave it a careful tug—only for it to resist.
the zipper was stuck. definitely stuck.
mimosa let out a nervous little laugh. “i swear, this wasn’t this difficult before when i tried to fit it—”
yuno braced a hand on her waist to steady her.
she tensed.
and suddenly, he was too aware of her.
too aware of the way the delicate curve of her spine disappeared beneath the fabric, of how the tight dress accentuated her figure. too aware of the scent of her perfume—light, floral, something so-mimosa that it made his head spiral like falling leaves in spring. too aware of the way her breath hitched when his fingers brushed against her skin by accident.
oh no. he shouldn’t.
his touch should remain only on her stubborn zipper and that fucking dress. for the nth time, he reminded himself.
so he focused. focused on her request, on the zipper, on literally anything but her.
another tug. still stuck.
then another. nothing.
yuno let out a groan. “there must be a spell to undo stuck zippers,” he muttered, the thought of stepping back to a much safer distance from her sounding like paradise at this point, but the look mimosa gave him through the mirror was enough to pull his attention back to the dress.
and so he tried to tug again. no luck.
“mimosa, we should really just use magic for this.”
“it’ll ruin the dress!”
“it’ll do you more of a favor—”
“but then i won’t have anything to wear for the night.”
“then i’ll help you find another one—”
“we won’t have enough time.”
“well, we also don’t have time to fix this zipper—“
“please, yuno? just try once more.”
…as if he could resist her.
so he did.
another tug. then another—the zipper gave way all at once.
neither of them expected it.
mimosa gasped. yuno gaped.
and before he could stop it, his knuckles—fuck his knuckles, having a mind of their own—grazed along her back, trailing from the small of her spine to the nape of her neck.
mimosa audibly gasped.
and yuno froze. she shivered before that, but he was too caught up in his own frustrating realization to truly notice.
this wasn’t entirely platonic anymore, was it?
mimosa turned slightly, just enough to look at him over her shoulder. now, he could see her face clearly, even under the dim lights of her room.
she was blushing. hard.
and he didn’t want to check the mirror to confirm that his was worse.
“…ahm, thank you,” she half-whispered, stepping away from his touch as if she was electrocuted as he was, as if what he had done was something too unacceptable for the relationship they had carefully maintained for the past few years.
and yuno let his hand drop, stepping back before he did something truly insane. something that would prove, once and for all that this had never been platonic to begin with.
and he knew that it never again would be.