#hcs.

it’s rare for both the brothers to be at their old childhood home at the same time, they never really get vacations that overlap enough to visit their parents together—and it’s never really been a priority for either of them with such an…estranged relationship. but this year’s a rare stroke of luck, and sae’s mother insists he brings you along with him for the ‘full family effect.’

except he rarely leaves the room if not to go for his jog or the gym—and you’re tired of being cooped up indoors all day. so when he opts for staying in to rewatch a match when you practically beg him to go to the convenience store around the corner with you, and rin so graciously offers to walk with you to grab a few things himself—how could you decline?

“i wasn’t being grumpy,” he says bitterly, “i was busy. it’s different.”

“well, me and rin had a blast,” you tease, pointing at the pictures on his phone, “as you can see.”

“shut up,” he scowls, locking his phone and crossing his arms. it’s cute to see him like this—slightly jealous and petulant as he tries to shrug it off like he doesn’t care. you giggle, leaning to peck his cheek.

“so? how does it feel to have your brother steal the love of your life?”

“i don’t know,” he rolls his eyes, “seems to me like you came crawling right back to me in the end.”

“not taking it well, huh,” you say amused—and finally, he wraps a loose arm around your figure as you sprawl yourself on his chest, leaning up to kiss his jaw. “you know how you can win me back over? taking me to the store next time i ask.”

“oh trust me,” he says with a sour look on his face, making you snort as you poke his nose, “you’re not walking past that door without me next time.”

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。MIKAGE REO.

reo is distraught.

“look at these comments,” he cries, shoving his phone in your face.

“reo,” you try to fight back a giggle, reaching over to ruffle his hair affectionately as you try to soothe his crisis, “it’ll blow over, don’t worry. me and nagi were just getting snacks.”

“yeah but they’re completely trashing me,” he whines, eyes all but popping out of his sockets as he reads the comments on the twitter post, “‘you know you’re lame when even your money isn’t enough to keep someone?’ what does that even mean?”

“it means you’re losing your charm,” you tease, cackling when he throws you a soft glare from his spot on the couch. he’s scooches away from you, sitting on the opposite end as he holds up a hand.

“you stay on your half,” he huffs, “i don’t want to sit with a cheater.”

“i didn’t cheat!” you snort, “we went to get snacks for you too—”

“yeah and you forgot them,” he glares.

“i said sorry!”

“well, it doesn’t help,” he pouts as he turns back to his phone, glaring at his screen as he reads the way some of the comments are now claiming you and nagi are a cute couple. it makes his brows furrow as a vein all but pops in his forehead, making you bite your lip so as not to laugh and hurt your boyfriend’s already painfully bruised ego.

“baby, you know you’re the only guy for me,” you grin, shuffling over to his side of the couch, giggling as you cling to him while he tries to (gently) shove you off.

“i don’t know,” he grumbles, “clearly i’m not since you haven’t even defended me in these comments.”

“i’ll make sure to tell them your money still has all the appeal,” you grin, earning a sharp look from him as you throw your head back and laugh. “i’m kidding.”

“you’re not,” he mumbles, crossing his arms. he looks cute like this—makes your heart soar as you lean closer and cup his cheeks and press soft kisses along his face. and even as he tries to fight it, he can’t help but smile a little and lean into your touch.

“i’ll make sure to defend your honor in the comments,” you murmur, biting his cheek playfully. he turns, leans in for a peck to the lips as he sighs.

“you better,” he mutters, “these people are ruthless.”

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。SHIDOU RYUSEI.

shidou is a nightmare if you’ve ever met one—makes your life increasingly difficult because how dare someone write an article that hints that what’s his could be anyone else’s?

“what do you want for dinner?” you ask, sighing as he shrugs.

“oh, i don’t know,” he grins condescendingly, “why don’t you let your other boyfriend decide?”

“ryusei—”

“if i see him, he’s gonna be one with the concrete, i’ll tell you that.”

“don’t even think about getting into trouble. that’s your teammate,” you pinch your nose, trying to be the one and only voice of reason there evidently is, “we just saw each other at the store and said hi—”

“why did he need to say hi?” he growls, crossing his arms as he stares at his screen again, eyeing the title of the article that’s single handedly spoiled your afternoon with a moody boyfriend in your hands. “i should teach him a lesson—”

“you should do no such thing—”

“you know what? i don’t even care,” he says suddenly, and there’s too much of a wicked grin on his face for you to feel at ease about his sudden turn of mood.

“ryusei.” your voice comes out as a warning, but he pays it mind.

“yeah, babe?” he says sweetly, scrolling through his phone and making your stomach churn as you walk over.

“what are you—” and then there’s a buzz of your phone, cutting you off as you hesitantly glance at it in your hand, noticing the mention you have from him. “what did you do?” you narrow your eyes.

“nothing,” he shrugs, “just cleared the air.”

and if you were unsettled before, you’re certainly concerned now because shidou ryusei taking matters into his own hands can only mean a headache for you and serious damage control for his team. you groan, rubbing your temple as you prepare yourself for the worst case scenario.

“what could you possibly—are you kidding me, ryusei? are you out of your mind?” you stare at the picture he’s posted, one of him practically sucking your face off in the middle of god knows where—when did he even get this picture? and who took it? but as quickly as the questions pop into your head, you decide just as fast that you don’t even want to know.

“that’ll teach ‘em,” he grins darkly, and he has the audacity to look proud of himself, earning himself a harsh glare from you. he only snickers, grabs you by the wrist and tugs you onto his lap on the couch. “wanna recreate the picture?” he grins widely.

“no i want to delete the picture,” you grumble.

“not an option,” he says smugly, and then his lips are on yours—and even if he’s shaved ten years off your life, you think it’s at least a good thing that he’s back to his usual self.