Chapter Text
The soft clatter of silver lunchboxes and the low hum of conversation filled the classroom, where sunlight filtered lazily through the tall windows. At the back of the room, where the students of higher status often gathered out of unspoken agreement, Nagi sat hunched over his phone, thumbs tapping against the screen with practiced indifference. His uniform was slightly rumpled—expensive, tailored, but worn like it didn’t matter. Because to Nagi, most things didn’t.
That didn’t stop people from hovering.
Clusters of well-groomed classmates lingered nearby, casting furtive glances his way while pretending to talk about stocks, foreign policy, or whatever topic sounded impressive enough to catch his attention. A few bold ones had even tried to approach, offering rare sweets or subtly name-dropping relatives with government connections. One boy nervously brought up his father’s law firm, while a girl from another class laughed too loudly at something Nagi didn’t even say.
They all wanted something. A favor. An in. Proximity to the heir of a family with silent influence threaded through ministries and multinational corporations.
And every time, Nagi ignored them all.
He didn’t look up or acknowledge them. He just kept playing his game, letting their presence roll off him like rain on marble. It wasn’t arrogance—it was apathy. Nothing ever seemed worth his attention.
Except maybe the boss level he was currently fighting.
Or the lavender-haired boy about to make a dramatic entrance, as always.
"Seishiro~!" came the bright, unmistakable voice from across the room—musical, sweet, and full of dangerous intent.
Nagi’s fingers paused, just for a second. That exact tone? That was Reo asking for a favor mode. He knew it too well. A sigh threatened to form in his throat.
In that split moment of distraction, his HP dropped to critical. His character took a hit.
He quickly resumed playing like nothing had happened, expression flat, posture lazy. But even without looking up, he could feel the ripple of tension shifting around him.
The group of students who’d been hovering—the ones carefully posturing for favor, for acknowledgment, for any sliver of attention—had gone quiet. They exchanged quick glances and then began to step aside one by one, as if instinctively recognizing their efforts had just become pointless. Some moved away entirely, slipping back to their desks with strained smiles. Others lingered just long enough to see how this would play out, but they didn’t block the path.
Because when Reo wanted something from Nagi, everyone else might as well not exist.
From behind the thinning crowd, Reo strolled forward like he owned the entire classroom—because, in a way, he kind of did. Designer loafers, pressed uniform, blazer sleeves pushed up in calculated casualness. His hair gleamed in the light, and he carried an air of indulgence, like someone who knew they could have anything if they asked with the right smile.
“Seishiro,” Reo drawled, practically sliding into the empty seat beside Nagi like a cat slinking onto a sunlit windowsill, “There’s this auction happening next week. Super exclusive. Private collectors only.”
Nagi kept tapping. “Then go.”
“I can’t,” Reo huffed, flopping back dramatically in his seat. “Daddy said those kinds of events are beneath me. ‘Only criminals and oil barons go to underground auctions,’ he said. ‘What if someone photographs you next to a gangster?’” He mimicked his father’s voice with exaggerated flair. “Ugh, he’s so dramatic.”
“You’re dramatic.”
Reo gasped again—hands to his chest this time like he’d been stabbed. “Excuse me? I am simply… expressive.”
“You whined for twenty minutes yesterday because the chauffeur brought the wrong brand of mineral water.”
“It was tap. Tap, Nagi. From a faucet.”
“Water’s water.”
Reo looked genuinely offended. “That is so classless.”
Nagi didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. He knew exactly where this was going. Reo always asked for things like it was a game. Or a performance. Or both.
Reo scooted closer, pressing their knees together under the desk. “Can you get me a ticket?” His voice softened, sugary sweet. “Just a teensy little pass. You know you could make one call and boom—I’m in.”
Nagi was quiet. Too quiet.
Reo blinked, realizing he wasn’t being properly acknowledged. He peeked over Nagi’s shoulder—still gaming. Barely a flicker of reaction. Reo pouted, puffing his cheeks like a child being ignored in a candy shop.
Without warning, he plucked the game from Nagi’s hands.
“Hey,” Nagi said, blandly.
“If you’re not gonna pay attention to me,” Reo said sweetly, “I’ll make you.” And then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he climbed right onto Nagi’s lap.
He adjusted himself until he was seated comfortably, legs on either side, perfectly balanced. His fingers found Nagi’s hands and guided them around his slim waist. “There. Better.”
Now Nagi looked. Reo was settled right on him, eyes wide and glittering, pink lips pushed into a pout.
Reo leaned in, nuzzling into the crook of Nagi’s neck, warm breath ghosting over skin. “Please, Sei… pretty please? You know I’ll owe you forever,” he whispered sweetly, voice like silk spun with sugar.
“You’re acting spoiled again,” Nagi murmured.
Reo pulled back just enough to beam up at him. “Is that a yes?”
Nagi sighed. He wasn’t going to win this round.
“…Fine.”
Reo squealed and hugged him, practically bouncing in his lap. “You’re the best, Seishiro! I’ll make it up to you, I swear!”
“Don’t,” Nagi said, reaching lazily over to retrieve his phone. “Just don’t touch my game next time.”
Reo giggled, still clinging to him. “No promises.”
And like that, Nagi went back to tapping his screen—now with Reo comfortably curled up in his lap, still whispering plans about what to wear and what to bid on.
Spoiled or not, he was kind of cute like this. Not that Nagi would say that out loud.
________________________
Too much of a hassle.
That’s what Nagi told himself when he made the call to secure Reo a ticket to the auction. It was simple enough—he had the connections. But as he sat on his bed that night, phone still in his hand, something itched at him.
The thought of Reo going to some shadowy underground auction by himself—surrounded by collectors, opportunists, old money creeps with too much free time and too little shame—rubbed him the wrong way.
It wasn’t like Reo couldn’t take care of himself. But still.
“Annoying,” Nagi mumbled under his breath as he made another call.
He didn’t bother with the auction anymore. He just bought the items outright. Had it sent directly to Reo’s family estate. That way, Reo wouldn’t have to go anywhere. Wouldn’t have to do anything.
Less of a hassle. Kind of.
Mostly, it just felt better this way.
__________________________
The next day at school, Nagi was once again slouched at his desk, eyes on his phone, drifting through a puzzle game that didn’t require too much thought. The usual buzz of conversation filled the classroom, but it all dulled when Reo came bouncing in.
“Seishiro!”
The singsong voice was back. Sweet and familiar. Dangerous.
Before Nagi could react, Reo was already draping himself over Nagi’s desk, chin resting on his folded arms, eyes sparkling with mischief. He leaned in with a smile so sweet it could rot teeth. “Where’s my ticket? You said you’d get it for me, remember~?”
Nagi stared at him for a second, then glanced back at his game screen.
He didn’t say anything.
Reo blinked, the smile faltering just a touch. “Hey,” he poked Nagi’s shoulder. “Hey. Don’t ignore me. You promised!” His voice pitched up, turning petulant.
When Nagi still didn’t answer, Reo puffed up like a cat about to throw a fit. “You liar,” he accused, throwing himself against Nagi’s chest like a rejected lover in a period drama. “You lied to me, Sei. You said you’d get it and now you’re being mean and quiet and—and—”
He sniffled, dramatically.
And then the fake tears started.
“I won’t ever talk to you again!” Reo wailed, voice muffled as he pressed his face into Nagi’s uniform.
“Ever!”
Nagi blinked, unfazed.
Even without looking, he could tell it was all fake. The slight pause between sobs. The way Reo peeked up at him through his lashes. The over-the-top pout curling his lips.
Still, he sighed softly, sliding his hand into Reo’s hair and petting it gently. His other arm curled around Reo’s back, rubbing slow circles as Reo pretended to cry harder.
“It’s not good for you to go to an auction alone,” Nagi murmured finally.
Reo paused. Froze. Then shoved Nagi’s hand off his head and looked up at him with an aggrieved little glare. His pout deepened.
“Liar.”
Nagi stared at him for a beat, then tugged him closer by the waist until Reo was nuzzled into his chest again, right where he belonged.
“I sent what you wanted to your house,” he said quietly, fingers stroking down Reo’s spine.
Reo blinked.
Then blinked again.
He pulled back just far enough to look up at Nagi, eyes wide and hopeful. “Really?”
Nagi nodded, reaching up to gently wipe at the fake tear tracks on Reo’s cheeks. “Yeah.”
Reo beamed.
“Thank you, Sei~” he chirped, all sunshine again. Then, without warning, he leaned up and gave Nagi a soft, fluttery kiss on the cheek.
Nagi blinked, slow.
Reo giggled. “You love me.”
“Didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to,” Reo sang, snuggling back into him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Nagi sighed.
Such a hassle.