Chapter Text
- Ah...- Haruaki tugs at the door again - and then once more. It opens just a couple of centimeters before something blocks it from the outside. Haruaki suddenly realizes what caused that knocking sound a few minutes ago: the door is being propped shut by the mop he had left right by the closet entrance.
- Why are you stuck in there? - A disgruntled voice calls out from behind, and Haruaki freezes. The full extent of the disaster washes over him: him, a dark, cramped closet, and... Sano-kun, who certainly isn't going to praise him for this.
- What now? - God of misfortune squeezes past Haruaki toward the door and tugs at the handle himself.
The result is the same.
For a moment, the small room falls silent. They could hear the din of students on the floors below - classes had ended, and everyone was rushing home or back to their dorms.
- So you... - Mikoto hasn't even turned around yet, but Haruaki flinches and snaps to attention upon hearing that familiar icy tone. - You just locked us in here, is that it?
His voice is calm, and that unnerves Haruaki far more than if Sano-kun was shouting at him now.
- Forgive me, Sano-ku-u-u-un! - Haruaki instantly bursts into tears, and Sano barely restrains himself from punching him.
Instead, he decides to try kicking the door down and takes a step back to do so - or rather, he tries to, because the very next second he slams backward into Haruaki.
Perhaps if Seimei hadn't been getting underfoot, Mikoto might have succeeded, but...
Sighing in irritation, Mikoto surveys the space where he - and another idiot - will have to spend an indeterminate amount of time.
This closet looks more like a locker than a proper room. It’s barely two meters long, if that. In the corner sit a couple of buckets and some bottles of chemicals; the width is just enough for two people to stand shoulder-to-shoulder - at least, two ordinary people.
And Haruaki Abe is anything but ordinary.
Sano’s head is practically brushing against the top shelf - and Haruaki's position much less comfortable due to his height. To stand reasonably upright, the teacher has to brace one hand against the opposite wall just above Sano’s shoulder, forcing to lean down so low that he’s practically touching the top of his student's head.
- Waa, Sano-kun, your shampoo smells so nice... - a voice murmurs right by Mikoto’s ear, and he barely manages to stifle a yelp.
- Don't sniff me, you pervert! - Mikoto growls under his breath, realizing there’s absolutely nowhere to back away to - he can’t even punch Seimei properly! Mikoto shifts around, trying to adjust his position, but only makes things worse.
Now he is bracing both hands against the wall behind Haruaki, his face mere inches from Haruaki’s chest.
- Do you think you're in any position to be pissing me off right now?
Even in the darkness of the small room, Haruaki can see the gleam that has ignited in the Mikoto's eyes.
They both know this isn't going to end well for Seimei.
- N-no, I...- Haruaki quickly holds out both hands, hoping to somehow stave off the inevitable. - I was joking, Sano-kun, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...!
Haruaki presses his palms against Mikoto’s chest to hold him back, but Mikoto moves even closer. His student's lips are practically brushing against Haruaki’s neck, and the teacher feels that searingly hot breath on his skin.
Haruaki barely supresses a sob.
- What is it? - Mikoto whispers mockingly, and Haruaki feels how every word sink into his skin, sending shivers racing across his body.
- It-it tickles, Sano-kun...! - Haruaki shakes his head frantically, trying to get rid of the unbearable sensation. The poor teacher doesn't even realize that he has just signed his own death warrant with these careless words.
God of misfortune pulls away for a moment, and Haruaki exhales in relief, naively assuming that Sano-kun will stop there.
But he’s sorely mistaken.
- Is that so..? - Mikoto deliberately draws out the words; the tone is so mocking and sinister that a cold sweat instantly breaks out over Haruaki.
- Eek! - The very next moment, Haruaki feels hands on his waist. - S-S-Sano-kun...?
Haruaki yelps, his whole body jerking as Mikoto's hands suddenly grip his sides. The teacher scrambles to push him off, but the space is too cramped - there's no escape.
- W-Wait! I'll do anything! Just don't..!
His sentence cuts off with a choked-off gasp as Sano's fingers start moving against.
- N-no...! I'm sorry! - Haruaki still desperately tries to to prevent the execution, but even light touches already make him giggle.
Sano, of course, notices. He smirks cruelly - and Haruaki thinks that it's probably the last thing he'll see in his life.
Without another word, Mikoto digs his fingers right into Haruaki’s sides.
- KYAHH!
The moment tickling starts, Haruaki loses all control. A burst of uncontrollable giggles erupts from him - high-pitched laughter that echoes off the tiny supply closet walls.
- P-plea-aha-ahAH..! - Haruaki tries to twist away, but the closet is too small - he can't even stumble without slamming into Sano or the shelves. He thrashes wildly in the tiny space, ahoge whips around chaotically as Haruaki gasps for air between shrieks of laughter. - Sano-kuhuhuhn...!
Tears prickle at the corners of his red eyes as he struggles to breathe between fits of giggles.
Mikoto meanwhile just keeps up his relentless attack, fingers dancing mercilessly over Haruaki’s sensitive spots. With expression which is a mix of cold satisfaction and quiet amusement, he leans closer so Haruaki could hear him through his own desperate laughter:
- You'd better think twice before dragging me in this kind of situations, don't you think?
Haruaki couldn't even make a proper word between squeaks and giggles to answer. He just nods frantically, hoping that God of misfortune had satisfied his sadistic urges already and is ready to forgive his poor teacher, but --
Mikoto doesn't let up. The tormenting only gets worse - now his fingers crawl a little higher - to Haruaki's ribs.
The teacher's entire body jerks like he's been electrocuted, and for a second, he forgets how to even form words.
- N-NOT THERE..! - Was the last coherent phrase Haruaki could make before bursting into almost hysterical laughter.
Mikoto suddenly thinks that maybe it's even better than just punching Seimei... For a change, of course, - definitely not because he finds Haruaki's laughter adorable or something like that..! Mikoto's ears feel hotter somehow, and blaming Haruaki for this, he redoubles his efforts.
Haruaki lets out a shriek - half-laugh, half-yelp - as Sano’s fingers find the most sensitive spot just below his ribs. Haruaki desperately tries to squirm away, only succeeding in pressing them both closer together.
Mikoto pauses for half a second - just long enough to see the pitiful state of his homeroom teacher. Seimei looks pathetic in the best way possible: face all flushed, eyes tearful, lips trembling as he tries to make something besides wheezy giggles - there's even a thin track of drool trickling down his chin... Mikoto feels how something deep inside him makes a strange flip - a sensation that is simultaneously pleasant and frightening.
Before this strange feeling would reach his mind, Mikoto immediately resumes with even more vigor. This is just a payback, nothing more - or so Mikoto tries to convince at least himself.
Haruaki, who for this second believed that his suffering was over, screeches with laughter as Mikoto's fingers finds his ribs again. His knees buckle slightly, forcing him to slump further involuntarily - now Haruaki's hands were gripping Mikoto's back of uniform, face buried in his student's shoulder, probably soaking the cloth with his tears and saliva. But even this doesn't stop Mikoto - although a clean-freak like him ought to have instantly recoiled in disgust.
None of them was able to pay attention to this fact - Haruaki was too busy trying not to die from laughing too much, Mikoto was too busy exploring his homeroom teacher's adorable weakness.
While wandering through his victim's sensitive spots, Mikoto’s fingers accidentally - or not so - graze Haruaki’s waist, just below the hem of his shirt. But the second Mikoto touches there...
- Ah ---...! - Though Haruaki's noises were muffled by fabric of Mikoto's uniform, they still effected like a slap.
God of misfortune freezes mid-tickle attack, realizing where his hands had ended up.That spot - and that sound - was... different from all the others.
Haruaki gasps greedily for air, not understanding yet why the tickling had stopped - but right now that didn't matter at all. He's still trembling, occasional giggles still burst out of him, but at least he's not being tormented anymore. Taking a deep breath - and being grateful that he is able to do it again - Haruaki catches a familiar scent - Sano-kun's shampoo. A cruel reminder of how it all started.
While Haruaki was still trying to catch his breath, Mikoto felt as if the fog in his head had gone. And now there they are - almost hugging each other, Mikoto's hands are gripping his homeroom teacher's waist, while the teacher himself is all red and breathless. The last thing they need right now is...
The supply closet's door suddenly slides open with a loud "thud", flooding the cramped space of the supply closet with bright light. In the doorway stands Nyudo, blinking at them with a wide eye.
- Um...
The heavy silence fell in the classroom. Neither Sano nor Haruaki was sure whether they could move.
Nyudo was trying his hardest to come up with a decent excuse for them, but, judging by his skeptical look, without a hint of success.
The fact that both of their faces were bright red could have been attributed to the stuffiness of the cramped room, but one glance at Seimei was enough to understand that they clearly weren't just sitting there.
Haruaki was barely standing, his hair was more tousled than usual, and tears glistened in the corners of his eyes; his shirt, usually neatly tucked into his pants, now was all crumped.
- I-Im sorry...? - Nyudo takes a careful step back, without taking his eye off them. - Mame asked me to look for Sano still his classroom duty took too long, and... Well... I won't tell anyone, so...
- It's not like that!
Mikoto jumps away from Haruaki, successfully smacking his had against a shelf above his head. He hisses, rubbing his temple, and that delay was enough for Nyudo to run out of the classroom, closing the door behind him.
Mikoto remains standing in the middle of the classroom with his hand outstretched.
The silence is deafening.
His eyes dart to Haruaki who hasn’t said a single word since they were caught. He was just standing there with an empty look, not quite recovered from the torture, - he probably didn't even realise that someone has seen them.
- That... - Mikoto glares at Haruaki, crossing his arms. - That didn't happen.
It comes out more like a plea than an assertion