Ryusei's eyes were striking.

They were drowned out somewhat by the general vibrancy of his person, but they were by no means subtle. Neon pink that glowed when he got excited, with slitted pupils like a cat's; you understood why people called him a 'demon,' because it didn't seem right for a mere mortal to look so unique.

Now, those slit pupils are gone, completely blown so that there was only a thin ring of pink around them. He’s staring at you intently, only breaking his gaze for the occasional slow blink of his thick blond lashes.

You sigh, closing your book. "What is it?"

"What's what?"

"You're staring at me. And your eyes look weird. It's a little freaky." You lean towards him, trying to get a better look. Ryusei doesn’t so much as flinch at your abrupt movement, instead tilting his head closer so your noses touched. "Your pupils are huge. Are you on drugs?"

"Drugged on you, baby~"

You shove him away with a palm to his mouth, grimacing a bit as he licks your hand. Your attempt to silence him only encourages him. "You're like an aphrodisiac to me, sweetheart!" He sang. “Your pheromones are—”

For your own sanity, you cut him off by tackling him to the ground. After a few minutes of half-hearted wrestling, he pins you to the ground with ease, lying flopped on top of your body like the world’s horniest weighted blanket. Ryusei’s dopy grin and black-eclipsed eyes haven’t changed, only now they’re accompanied by a flush of rose brushed across his cheekbones.

You let out a deep sigh, expelling all the air in your body like a deflating balloon and letting your head gently thunk onto the floor. One of your hands comes up to stroke over his hair, petting over the spikes in a way that makes him purr. In turn, he grasps your waist, squeezing, intermittently tightening and loosening his grip like you were his stress toy.

The two of you lay there, in peace for a moment, soaking up the physical touch. You were not nearly as touchy as your boyfriend was, but you had acclimated to his particular form of affection well. So well, in fact, you began to automatically seek it out on your own and feel antsy when you couldn’t get your daily dose of contact. (Not that it happened often…if touch and affection was what you wanted, Ryusei spoiled you rotten with it.)

The thought causes you to smile a little, unconsciously. As bombastic as your boyfriend was, he really was sweet to you. And the way he snuggled up to you reminded you a bit of a fluffy pet.

Wait.

You sit up abruptly. Ryusei groans as his head slides down from your chest, until his chin is resting on your stomach. He looks up at you, eyebrows furrowed and lips beginning to form a pout. Before he can say anything, you grab his face with two hands, squashing his cheeks between your palms.

“You’re just a cat, aren’t you?” you say seriously.  

He blinks up at you, nonplussed.

“You like pets. You basically purr when I give you attention. You do the little tongue bleps. And the whole dilated eyes and slow blinks is how cats show they like you.” You pause. “At least, I think. Also, you try to get my attention by knocking things over sometimes. That’s cat behavior.”

Ryusei gapes at you for a moment, before he starts to cackle. Full-body, deep laughs, so strong he pulls away from your lap and into a pill bug position as he wheezes.

“Whatever,” you huff. Before you can get up and walk away, you’re snatched up by strong arms and pulled into an embrace.

“I dunno, I’m just being me,” he says, muffling his voice in the crook of your neck as you halfheartedly try to squirm away from him. “But I can be your cat if you want~”

You shudder a bit at the suggestive edge to his words. You should be desensitized to his particular lecherous method of flirting by now, but his arms were strong, and his chest was warm, and his voice was deep…and you were weak for him.

“Could I put you in cat ears, then?” you ask, playing along. “A collar? A leash? It might help keep you in check.” You run a finger down the smooth line of his neck, ghosting over his Adam’s apple as it bobs with his audible swallow.  

“Mmmm…sounds kinky, babe, I’m in~” He starts to mouth kisses along your throat. You tilt your head to give him more access, eyes flickering shut. “You could be my owner, hehe…or you could be my little mouse…my cute little snack—” At this, he opens his mouth wide, and bites down on the nape of your neck.

You let out a squeak. The heat from his mouth and from the residual throb of the bitemark melts down the line of your spine deliciously.  

He cackles. “Such an adorable mouse sound! You play the part so well.”

You use the split-second of his loosened grip to break free and flip your position, straddling him. “Bad kitty,” you scold, winding your fingers through his hair and pulling.

Ryusei lets out a lewd noise, arching his back just a little into the pain. “Oh~” he lets out a shaky breath. “Gonna punish me, hm?”

He’s staring up at you, grinning. He’s all sharp teeth (just waiting to sink into your skin again), dark, dark eyes, messy hair, and arousal-flushed cheeks. You don’t know whether you want to eat him, or if you want him to eat you.

“Maybe…or maybe I’ll give you a treat, if you’re good for me,” you purr.

“No promises~” You give another tug to his hair, before leaning in to shut him up with a proper kiss.

Dating Sakura Haruka was like a dream come true for you. Finally, you were able to lavish him with the affection you were constantly holding back before in fear of revealing your feelings (and possibly ruining your friendship with him). Every time you held his hand, or ran a hand through his hair, or pressed a quick kiss to his lips, you felt a soft warmth flush through you. And, in complete contrast to how he acted years ago when you first met him, he no longer hissed and spat like a feral cat when any sort of kindness was shown to him. Now, though he still huffed and blushed at physical contact, he also reveled in it. Haruka leaned into every single one of your affections, even if they embarrassed him; and, in private, he would return them in his own shy way.

In short, you had grown comfortable expressing your adoration for him through physical touches, which is why you felt comfortable enough to do what you were about to do without thinking anything of it.

-

Haruka, though he was a bit dense, was well aware of how much he blushed. As much as it annoyed the shit out of him, he could never control the way he quickly turned from pale to pink to red at any nicety. Even though years around Furin and the affectionate weirdos who were a part of it, he would still flush often. It became worse again once he started dating you.

He couldn’t admit it (especially to the likes of Suo and Umemiya…nosy bastards…) but he adored when you were sweet with him. Before the two of you got together, you were always nice to him, complimenting him on everything from his fighting to his eyes to his kindness. But it was like the floodgates had opened after he confessed to you; now you expressed your love through both touch and words (a dangerous combination for Haruka’s heart). He liked that you were so comfortable touching him, even when he struggled to return the same actions expect in private. He liked it when you hugged him and kissed him and treated him like something precious. He avoided dwelling on his past as much as possible, but he couldn’t help but remember how a few years ago he could not have even fathomed being loved at all, much less in the all-encompassing way you loved him.

You were absolutely perfect to him, and you had given him the gift of falling in love and having that love reciprocated. That being said, sometimes you were fucking weird.

The two of you were snuggling on the couch, and you were stroking his hair and telling him how pretty he looked when he was relaxed. Haruka was slowly turning the shade of Kiryu’s hair, even as he melted into the scratch of your fingers against his scalp.

And then you leaned forward, and his eyes fluttered shut, anticipating a kiss. Instead of the soft feeling of your lips, however, he felt something sharp clamp down on one of his pink cheeks.

-

There were plenty of times when you looked at your boyfriend and thought “wow, he’s cute enough to eat.” The urge to take a bite out of Haruka ebbed and flowed like the tide; but it had reached dangerous flood levels since you started dating. According to Tsubaki, this was because of ‘cuteness aggression’, the same feeling that made you want to squish adorable baby animals like they were stress balls.

You never thought you’d act on the desire, but you had clearly gotten too used to inflicting upon Haruka your devotion through touch; therefore, you did not think this through.

He just looked so pretty sitting there, leaning his head into your hand, so relaxed he was almost purring with contentedness. His rosy face reminded you of his namesake, and the only coherent thought you had was “his cheeks look like sakura mochi” before you were leaning in.

The gentle clamp of your teeth over his soft flesh was just as satisfying as you dreamed, although you only got to experience it for a second before you let go at the screech your boyfriend let out. It took him a second to register what you did before he leapt away from the couch like a cat.

“THE HELL WAS THAT!?” Haruka yelped, scrubbing at the faint mark on his face with his hand. “ARE YOU A CANNIBAL OR SOMETHIN’?!”

You felt a surge of embarrassment, but luckily you were much better at hiding it than he was at hiding his. “No. That was just a love bite, baby.”

“A what?”

“A love bite! Because you were so cute it made me want to bite you. Affectionately.” You let a small wince surface on your face, despite your confident tone.

He squinted at you, confused. You could almost see the gears turning in his head, as if he was trying to remember if this was normal or not. “I don’t get it,” he admitted, cautiously sitting back down next to you. You almost joked that you wouldn’t bite, as if you hadn’t proven that false just seconds before.

You moved his hand out of the way so you could rub your thumb over his abused cheek, before pressing a soft kiss to it. Haruka tensed up a little, but he let out a small sigh and collapsed when he felt your lips instead of your teeth.

You felt a little bit bad, even though you enjoyed getting your teeth on him immensely. “I shouldn’t have done it to you out of the blue like that. I’m sorry.”

“’S fine, I just don’t understand,” he said gruffly.

“It’s called cuteness aggression…you know when something is so cute you just want to squeeze it or bite it or something like that?”

Haruka still seemed confused, but he gave a slow nod.

“That’s what I feel about you sometimes. I just like you so much I want to bite you. You’re sweet enough to eat, Haruka,” you murmured, punctuating it with a small kiss to the tip of his nose.

He made a sort of unintelligible sound, flushing again. After you gave him a minute to reboot, he said, “Well…I didn’t hate it, y’know. Ya just startled me, ‘s all…” he trailed off, avoiding meeting your eyes.

You recognized this behavior, and it made your eyes light up. “Awww, did you like it?”

“Shut up!” he squawked. A pause. Then, in a quieter voice, “I dunno. It was too fast, jus’ startled me. Didn’t even really know what was happenin’.”

“Want me to bite you again?”

He turned away. “Do whatever you want.” Tellingly, however, he had twisted in a way so that his cheek and his neck were fully exposed to you.

“Okay,” you said softly. “I’m going to bite you again. Tell me if you like it or not, okay?”

This time, when you leaned in, you bit into the long, creamy stretch of his exposed neck. It felt different than his cheek did under your teeth, but it felt just as good, if not better.

Haruka stiffened for a second, like a scared prey animal in the maw of a predator, before he shuddered and went limp with a small whine.  

You released him after a few seconds, and admired the red mark left behind. You met your boyfriend’s gaze, taking in his glazed eyes and slightly open mouth.

“Yeah, I think I like it,” he whispered.

When you smiled, his eyes were drawn to your teeth.

You thought nothing of barging into your best friend’s room; after all, he gave you a spare key for a reason. “Takashi!” you called excitedly. “They let me off work early today! Do you wanna maybe go out and do something? I heard there was a new—”

You were cut off before you could even finish. “I’m sorry,” Takashi said, not even bothering to raise his eyes from the patterns in front of him. “I really need to finish this today.”

“Oh,” you said, deflating slightly. “Well, I could just hang around here if you want some company. I can help too!”

Still, you received barely any acknowledgement. “I’ve got it, I just need to focus. I’ll see you later, though.”

Your smile felt brittle. “Okay, sounds good. I’ll go see Yuzuha then. Don’t forget to show me your new design when you’re done.”

The door clicked shut softly behind you.

Later, you heard from Yuzuha that Takashi went out to the arcade with Hakkai that same day. You were hurt, but you wanted to think the best. Takashi probably just finished early and assumed you were busy. It was nothing.

Except it wasn’t.

-

Ever since the two of you met in middle school, you had never gone more than a few days without hanging out. Throughout high school you basically lived at his house, becoming almost like another sibling to his sisters. Even once you both graduated and got different jobs, the two of you spent most of your free time together. (Enough time together for you to develop a horrible infatuation with him, at the very least.)

And yet, for two weeks straight Takashi had been completely blowing you off.

He was always busy with last minute designs, or he had to take his sisters to something, or he already had plans with Draken or Hakkai or the old Toman members. Normally, he would ask you to tag along, but he barely talked to you other than to let you know he couldn’t see you or spend time with you.

You never said anything, keeping a nonchalant tone around him. But god, did it hurt. You didn’t know what you did wrong to deserve this treatment; you couldn’t remember anything. Maybe he had just finally gotten tired of you and was trying to let you down easy.

You did your best to ignore those thoughts. It’s Takashi, you thought. If there was something wrong, he would communicate with you. It was probably nothing. (You needed to tell yourself that to keep from breaking down.)

-

Even though your relationship with Takashi was at a standstill, you still talked to his sisters.

Today, you had come over to make the girls lunch before they left to go hang out with their friends. Takashi hadn’t come out from his room when you called.

[“It’s fine,” you said, “I know he’s busy.”

The girls gave each other a look when they thought you weren’t paying attention. At least these Mitsuyas noticed something was up, you thought bitterly.]

They were long gone, after thanking you for the food and each giving you an awkward teenager hug on the way out. You have the rest of the day free, so you take your time cleaning the dishes, in the pathetic hope that Takashi will come out and you two will go back to normal.

You think that your prayers are answered when you see him come down the stairs. He seems a little surprised to see you still there, and he gives you a small, distracted smile. Your heart flutters as you smile back.

You think he’s coming towards you, but he walks right by the kitchen and heads towards the door instead. “Thanks for making lunch for the girls. I’m sure it was great,” he says, lingering for a moment. “You can leave the rest of the dishes; I’ll get them when I come back.”

“Oh. Where are you going?” you ask. You can hear a nearly imperceptible buzzing in your ears. You wonder if you’re angry or just sad; it’s hard to tell sometimes.

“Just out with Draken. I’ll see you later, yeah?” He’s already opening the door to leave.

You try to keep your composure, but the way you slam the plate as you set it on the counter is telling. “Yeah. See you later, I guess.” You wince. Even to your own ears, you sound bitchy. And you were doing so well in keeping it straight...  

There is a second of hesitation, and then the door closes. You busy yourself with drying the remaining dishes, not bothering to look up. Takashi probably left already.

But then you hear his footsteps as he comes into the kitchen. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks.

You still don’t look at him. You hate how concerned he sounds. Because of course he noticed how snotty you sounded; it wasn’t subtle. And Takashi was nothing if not a mediator, so he would obviously want to talk it out. But now, even after praying for the barest scrap of his attention back, you want nothing more than for him to leave you alone. You aren’t ready for whatever sort of conversation this is going to be.

On one hand, you are still hurt by how he treated you, how he hung out with you less and less as he replaced you with Draken and Hakkai. On the other hand, you feel like you’re being nothing but a spoiled brat. Takashi doesn’t owe you anything; he’s nice, so this is probably his own way of letting you know that you were too clingy and that he needed space while trying to spare your feelings. You just don’t want to hear that out loud.

At this point, you can feel yourself getting worked up. Your own thoughts buzz in your head like a swarm of angry locusts, rattling to the ever-quickening beat of your heart in your ears. You don’t quite know if you want to cry or scream.

He’s right in front of you now; you can see his shoes sidle up next to your slipper-clad feet on the kitchen floor as you valiantly avoid eye contact.

“C’mon, talk to me,” he says, voice softening even more. Because of course he can tell you are getting more upset.

“Just go,” you say. You sound muffled in your own ears. “Go hang out with Draken, or Hakkai, or your other gang friends. I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s up.”

“Oh, now that I want you to leave me alone, you won’t.”

“Hey, what is that supposed to mean?” He sounds a little offended now, and that just makes you angrier.

You spin around to face him for the first time. You can see how his eyebrows furrow, purple eyes glistening with concern as they take in your expression.

You lose your grip on your emotions. “Oh, what does that mean? I mean you’ve been ditching me for weeks now! Every time I come around, you’re too busy, or you already have plans with someone else!” You take a deep breath, trying to rein yourself in. “Look, if you don’t want to be around me anymore, just say something. Not any of this ‘hinting’ bullshit. Just…just say something…because I honestly don’t know what’s going on, Takashi.”

Your anger burnt through you quickly, like a flashfire, and you can feel your eyes starting to water.

Takashi looks stricken. One of his hands comes up to grip yours, using it to pull you into a tight hug. It only takes one murmur of your name, spoken gently into your hair as he tucks your head underneath his chin, for you to fully break.

There are tears streaming down your face now. You start to babble. “You’re my best friend, Takashi,” you say, pitifully. “I miss you.”

You feel his arms tighten around you, until you can almost feel your bones grinding together. It kind of hurts, but you are just happy to be held. His grip loosens soon enough, and he pulls back so he can look you in the eyes.

“I fucked up.” He smiles sadly at you. “I never wanted to make you feel like that. You’re my best friend too…but I couldn’t stay like that, and I didn’t know what to do about it.”

You feel your heart drop; you don’t understand. “What’re you trying to say?”

He lets out a sigh, and then reaches to clasp both your hands in his. His eyes dart around the room, nervously, before settling back onto yours. There is a quiet intensity in them that he only has when things are serious. “I want to be more than friends. I like you…romantically. I realized it a few weeks ago…you were always so special to me, and I didn’t understand why until Draken pointed it out to me.”

He let out a light chuckle. “I treated you differently than I did everyone else because I had—have—a crush on you. I didn’t know what to do about it, so I started avoiding you. I thought I would blurt out something that would ruin our friendship. I didn’t think about how it would affect you. I’m so sorry.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. It seems so inconceivable that he would return your feelings. You don’t even know what to say, so you focus on the end of his short speech. “So much for being the emotionally intelligent one, huh?” you say, tone lighter than it has been this whole time.

He lets out a self-deprecating laugh, tilting his head down. “Yeah, yeah. Guess I’m better with other people’s problems than my own. But cut me some slack, this is the first time I’ve been in love with someone before.”

You freeze. “Love?”

He already told you he had a crush on you, but this brings your thoughts to a halt. Love is a much more serious claim than a simple crush.

Takashi seems to think so as well. His face shutters. It’s clear he didn’t mean to say that much, but he doesn’t back down. “Yeah. Love. But it’s okay you don’t feel the same way. I’m good with just being friends. Or whatever makes you comfortable. Um. I owe you that much after being such a shithead, huh?” He looks uncomfortable, like he is just waiting for you to reject him. Like it’s inevitable.

You give him a sharp flick on the nose. “Idiot. Who says I don’t feel the same way.”

“…You do?”

You let out a snort, fighting to keep a grin off your face. “Like I wasn’t pining after you for years. God, Takashi, I follow you like a lovesick puppy, and you didn’t catch a hint?”

You open your mouth to say something else, but you’re swept back into his arms before you can. The two of you are face to face now; from here, you get the full force of his blinding grin. He’s smiling so wide that his eyes are nothing more than crescents of purple, his pretty eyelashes nearly brushing his cheeks. He looks breathtaking.

You break out into your own smile, unable to keep the happiness off your face. You feel so light, lighter than you have in a long time. The knowledge that Takashi loves you is like a shot of dopamine straight to your brain; you feel nearly delirious from the sudden rush of happiness.

“I love you,” he says. He sounds so tender when he says it, you can’t help but tilt your head up to press a kiss to his lips. It’s nothing more than a peck, but the touch of his soft mouth against yours sends sparks through your body.

“I love you too,” you say.

He looks at you in awe, before he leans down to steal another kiss from your lips, this one longer, and deeper.

You never want to leave; you would happily spend forever standing in the middle of his kitchen, trading heartfelt kisses and basking in the warmth of your love with Takashi.

-

(Draken wonders what happened to Mitsuya; he missed their hangout without so much as a “can’t make it” text. He can only hope the other boy finally got the balls to confess his feelings to you. He loves his sworn brother, but he’s getting tired of seeing Mitsuya avoid you. And he is definitely getting tired of hearing his lovesick ramblings. Well, if the two of you haven’t gotten together by now, Draken supposes he could always go with Yuzuha’s plan to lock the both of you in a closet until you worked things out.)

“What are you wearing?”

Kazutora startles from where he is lounging on the couch, nearly slipping off of it before he catches himself. “You’re home early!” He gives you a boyish smile, full of teeth.

He’s past the stage in your relationship where he tries to act ‘cool’ around you, so now you’re constantly hit with the full, clingy force of his genuine affection. (And as much as you like to tease him for once acting all nonchalant and aloof, you were well aware of his past, and the trust he had in you now to be so candid. And you cherished that trust every day, doing your best to give him the affection he craved, even when it was only by silently leaning into his embrace.)

“You still haven’t answered my question, baby,” you say.

He looks down at himself, as if he could have possible forgotten what he was wearing. “Oh, this? I lost a bet. Now I have to wear this all day.” Kazutora stands up, with all the grace of a tired housecat, to reveal the full outfit.

He is dressed in an oversized, fuzzy tiger onesie, a kigurumi. The hood is adorned with large, furry black ears, and you catch sight of a fabric tail hanging limply behind him. There are even paw-shaped pockets stitched to the front, designed so that if Tora shoves his hands into them, it will look like his hands were furry tiger feet. Even the zipper in the front was shaped like a cat’s paw. Overall, the costume has done an incredible job at turning your lanky boyfriend into something emulating the shape and fluffiness of a plushie.

“Lost against Baji, and he had Mitsuya make this for me,” Kazutora continues, before giving a little spin, causing the tail to fly out behind him. “Jokes on them, cause I kinda like it actually. It’s comfy. And it’s a tiger!”

You step forward, until you can wrap your arms around him. He’s exactly as snuggly as he looks; the onesie gives him an extra layer of softness that you melt into. You cling closer to Kazutora, shoving your head into the hood with his, nuzzling between the plush fabric and your boyfriend’s warm neck. You let out a deep sigh, all the worries and struggles of the day evaporating as Tora wraps his arms around you and pulls you even deeper into the embrace.

You lose track of how long the two of you stand there, holding each other. You’ve started to unconsciously press gentle kisses to Kazutora’s tattoo, and he tilts his head to give you more access, earring jingling with his movement.

“Do you like it?” he murmurs.

“Yup. ‘S cozy,” you whisper. “Want to stay like this forever.”

He giggles, bright and airy. “You’re so cute.”

You give his neck a light nip, causing him to yelp. “Says the boy who looks like a stuffed animal.”

“I feel like a stuffed animal,” he agrees. “It’s comfy in here. Feels like I’m wrapped in clouds and rainbows and fluffy kittens an’ shit.”

Kazutora pauses.

Then, he states, “I just had the best idea.”

“Oh no,” you say, on instinct.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, sweetheart,” you soothe, “What’s your idea?”

“Well—”

-

Chifuyu lets out a heavy sigh once he walks into the living room.

“Why do you guys have to be like this. In a public space.”

You and Kazutora stick your tongues out at him, in unison. “It’s not public. It’s our apartment,” Tora protests.

By ‘like this’, Chifuyu is referring to Kazutora’s brilliant idea: apparently, the onesie was just baggy enough for you to be able to slip inside of it with him. Now, the two of you were lying on the couch together, snuggled into the same onesie like two content garter snakes wrapped around each other, both of your heads poking out into the oversized hood. You had to admit, as stupid as it feels, you’ve never felt as warm and snug.

Chifuyu does not find it as wonderful as you and your boyfriend do, according to his wrinkled nose and judgmental stare. “We need to update the apartment rules, then.”

“He’s just mad cause he’s not getting laid,” whispers Kazutora. Loudly.

Chifuyu’s reaction is to throw a pillow at the both of you. It collides with a thump, causing you and your boyfriend to let out harmonious squawks. “You weirdos deserve each other!” he hisses, before stomping off to his room.

“Aww, that was sweet of him. We do deserve each other, Tora,” you coo, before pressing a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.

Kazutora tilts his head so he can catch you in a proper kiss. You can feel him smiling against your lips. “Well, I sure hope so.”

Choji’s eyes were luminous in the twilight. It seemed as if they were lit by a spark inside of them, rather than the faint reflected glow of the streetlights and scattered stars. His eyes were the first things you saw when you awoke, and they took your breath away. (They were bright in a way they hadn’t been in a long time.)

The three of you had moved in your sleep; you were lying wedged between a still slumbering Jo’s arm and his body as he snored into your hair, and Choji had migrated until he was lying on top of you like a weighted blanket. Unlike Jo, he was already awake, his chin resting on your chest as he blinked up at you with a soft expression.

“Good morning,” he said.

“It’s night.”

“Good night, then!” He took a deep breath, and let it out in a great big sigh, melting even further into you. Choji always was a tactile person; you hadn’t indulged in it fully in a long time. (It was a combined product of Choji getting ‘bored’ with you and Jo, and Jo keeping this newer, more callous Choji away in case he hurt you.)  But now, it was as if Umemiya had lifted his ‘curse’, and Choji was back to burrowing his small, warm body into yours like a clingy pet.

You’re determined to soak all of his affection in; basking in it like a cat in the sunlight. You knew your back would protest your sleeping position later, but you’re not moving until Choji does, and he seemed perfectly content to use you as a body pillow.

“You look better,” Choji said, completely out of the blue. You blinked at him.

“What do you mean?”

“You seem happier,” he stated. He was looking at you, but it almost felt as if he was looking through you. His eyes were still bright, but they held a seriousness you never would have seen from Choji a few years ago.

You’re saved from trying to think up a response when a sleep-thick voice from behind you interjects.

“He’s right, you know,” Jo said lackadaisically, a small, self-satisfied smirk beginning to form on his face. He twisted so his face was next to yours. “You look prettier when you’re happy.”

The blatant flirting caused your brain to short-circuit. You knew things had…changed between the two of you last night, but you didn’t expect this sort of overtness, especially in front of Choji. You didn’t even know what sort of dynamic this would create between the three of you; and part of you was worried it would cause another rift when all you wanted was to pull them both close to you. Despite your worries, you still felt giddy butterflies swirling in your stomach when Jo called you pretty.

Choji let out a squawk.

Your heart shot into your throat.

“Kame!” he cried; his face was set into a pout as he glared at Jo. He pushed himself up on his hands and stuck his face even closer to yours; so close you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes and the faint white scar on his nose. You could feel your skin heating from the proximity of both of their faces. (You were suddenly overcome with a pang of sympathy for what Sakura must go through.)

“Don’t worry,” Choji stated, staring at you intensely, but earnestly. “You were always pretty! Don’t listen to Kame, he’s being silly.”

You let out a strangled squeak.

“Tsh.” Jo reached around you to flick Choji on the nose. “I said prettier, idiot. You don’t listen.”

Another squawk out of Choji. He reached over, likely to try and start play-wrestling with Jo, but you stopped him by wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him to you in a hug.

“It’s okay, bunny,” you cooed, breaking out the old childhood nickname for Choji you hadn’t used in ages. “Thank you for trying to defend my honor from the big, mean kame.” You squeezed him as tight as you could, but he didn’t do anything other than giggle. 

“So crueeell,” Jo moaned, thunking his forehead onto your shoulder as he went limp. “Those cute faces just hide your evilness, both of you.”

You detached one arm from Choji so you could ruffle Jo’s shaggy hair. It was a frizzy, loose bedhead, but it was still soft when you ran your fingers through it. “Don’t worry Jo, we still love you, right Choji?”

“Of course!” Choji leaned forward, getting close enough to press a peck to the top of Jo’s head, making an exaggerated ‘mwah’ sound as he did so. The sight caused a burst of warm affection to shoot through you.

Jo didn’t answer, but you could feel him laughing into the crook of your neck as he nuzzled closer.

There was a moment of silence; you weren’t sure how long it lasted, but while it lasted, it was just the three of you, clinging to each other under the mixed lights of the city and the stars.

-

Choji’s voice was the one to break the peace. “I’m really sorry, y’know?”

He paused, turning so he could fix you and Jo with the full force of his wide, shining eyes. That seriousness was back, the giggling, joking Choji of a few minutes ago wiped away once more. It made him look older, and your heart briefly ached for the time you lost to Choji’s darkness. How much had he grown, while he was hidden by the shadows?

“I said sorry to Kame, but I need to tell you, too,” he said, holding your surprised gaze for a moment.

“Cho, you don’t need to—”

“Yes,” he interrupted. The force in his voice made your mouth snap shut. He sighed at this, deflating slightly, before continuing in a softer voice. “I’m so sorry. I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. Both of you look so happy now…and it made me think about how just…miserable we all were. And it was all my fault. So I’m sorry.”

He inhaled, voice shuddering. His eyes had gone glossy, and you realized that he was about to cry. “’M sorry! I mean it, I really do love you guys—” his voice cracked.

Jo reacted first, pulling Choji into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t help you.”

You could hear him sob into Jo’s shoulder, and you moved until you were plastered to Choji’s back. “And I’m sorry too, that I didn’t protect you both,” you murmured, before pressing your mouth to his temple in a firm kiss.

“We’re not mad,” Jo started.

“Well, I’m a bit mad at myself that I couldn’t help you,” you said, grimacing.

“Hush, pretty, y’know it’s not your fault,” Jo insisted.

You avoided his gaze, instead burying your face in Choji’s wild blond mane. “Either way, we don’t blame you, Choji. We just wanna be here for you.”

“And we love you too.”

“Mhmm. More than anything. Our little bunny,” you said, clutching at Jo’s shirt so you could effectively squash Choji between you both. “You’re not getting rid of us. We’re gonna right here with you. Always.”

The two of you held him until his tears stop pouring, and his breaths are even, instead of the jagged sobs of before. He pulled back from Jo’s now damp shoulder, so he could look at you both. His face was flushed and spotty, shining and slick with tears and other fluids. His eyes were puffy, but as he blinked the last of his tears away, you could see the genuine happiness reflected in them. You thought they never looked quite so beautiful.

You couldn’t resist smooching him on his cheek; it was salty, with dried tears, but just as soft as it looked. Jo, just as weak as you were, pressed a kiss to his other cheek. Not to be outdone, you gave Choji another peck, causing Jo to give one as well. It escalated until the both of you were pressing rapid-fire kisses all over Choji’s face; your antics caused him to giggle relentlessly, a sound of pure joy that made you feel giddy.

Eventually, you both slowed, kisses becoming more languid, simple brushes of both of your lips over his skin.

“What now?” you asked. The position you were slumped in was uncomfortable, but you felt secure in it.

“We take care of each other,” Jo murmured.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” said Choji, linking one of his pinkies with yours, and the other with Jo’s.

“Okay,” you breathed. “Sounds perfect.”

-

“Hey, Choji?”

“Yeah, Kame?”

“Did you know someone here got a little jealous of you and Umemiya?” he drawled.

You shot him a look, as if to say, ‘don’t you dare.’

“Why?” Choji asked, oblivious to the silent eye conversation you and Jo were having.

Jo gave you a slow, lazy smile. “It’s cause you bit him. And maybe a certain someone wanted to feel your teeth too—”

“TOGAME JO I SWEAR TO GOD!”

“—Just a little lovebite—”

Before you could try to throttle the smirking man, Choji grabbed your arm. “I’ll bite you if you want! It wasn’t a lovebite with Ume-chan, of course, but cause I love you, it would be one with you!”

You buried your face in your hands. You couldn’t take the sincere look in his eyes. Over the blood rushing in your ears, you could hear Jo laughing at you both, deep chuckles that don’t make you any less flustered.

They were lucky you loved them, you thought, as Jo gave you a gentle, apologetic kiss to the lips, and Choji, loathe to be left out, gave each of you a firm peck (with a little bit of a bite to it).

(Truly, you were lucky they loved you too.)

The city lights filtering through the raindrop-slick window reminded you of an abstract painting, all rounded smears and bubbles of color. The soft, dreamlike quality of the view only cast the sight of your girlfriend sitting across from you in even starker relief. Your sleep-heavy gaze brightened as you focused on her.  

Rumi was still in her hero costume, fresh off patrol when she met you at your favorite diner. She was a little late, because she ran into some trouble that day; evidence of which was present on her face in the form of small butterfly stitches running across her split eyebrow. When she had bounded into the restaurant, twenty minutes late and damp with the night’s first traces of rain, you had taken care to press a gentle kiss to the wound. Even though you knew she was impossibly strong, you still felt the constant itch to comfort and care for her every miniscule injury. (She had laughed when you doted over her after she simply stubbed a toe, but she didn’t push you away. She didn’t need your care, yet she basked in it all the same.)

 Her tardiness worked in her favor somewhat, anyways. By the time she slid onto the bench across from you, there was already a fresh plate of waffles sitting on the table, ready for her to devour. Your own food was sitting in front of you, untouched, until Rumi arrived. (When you told her you were waiting, she let out a small huff and then insisted on feeding you the first forkful, as a sort of wordless apology, though you hardly were starving in the time she was absent.)

Now, she was happily plowing through her food, blueberry syrup smeared across her lips in a sticky purple gloss. Rumi tried hard to swallow before she spoke, a rare instance of politeness, but sometimes she forgot in her haste to tell you about her day. (You were a little disgusted with yourself that you found her garbled speech endearing.) You listened intently, chin in your hands and elbows propped up on the table, your own empty plate pushed to the side. You had already offered up your own meagre tales from the day, but you were tired, and the prospect of listening to your girlfriend was infinitely more appealing than talking yourself.

After the last forkful of waffles disappeared into her mouth, Rumi made to wipe her face with a napkin. You reached out a hand to stop her.

“C’mere,” you said, voice a little slower and softer than normal. Rather than leaning across the table, she got up and joined you on your bench, sliding close enough that your thighs were pressed warmly together. She was uncharacteristically quiet, and her ruby eyes watched you curiously.

You didn’t give her a verbal reply, instead closing the distance between you two and pressing your lips together.

Rumi’s lips were tacky with sugary berries, and she tasted like them, too. As you melted into her, you thought that the kiss would have been sweet without them, anyways.

It wasn’t an efficient way of cleaning her face; in fact, you really just made more of a mess. But she giggled at your antics, when you broke apart, and snatched her napkin to gently wipe your own face clean. So, it was more than worth it.

“Did you miss me today, sugar?” Rumi purred, teasing.

You tsked. “You’re more of a ‘sugar’, with your sweet tooth,” you replied.

“Ah, you see, that is precisely the reason why I picked you. Because you’re so sweet.”

“Says the sweet talker. You sure you’re not tasting your own honey, bunny?”

You both blinked at each other for a moment, before bursting into simultaneous laughter.

“That was all so cheesy,” you wheezed.

She was no better, cackling so loudly it echoed in the bare diner. “We’re both so tired, aren’t we? Our minds have gone loopy!”

The both of you continued to break out into scattered giggling fits, leaning on each other for support as you steadied your breaths and rode out the waves of amusement. Eventually, the true tiredness won, and Rumi’s head began to rest more heavily on your shoulder.

You reached one arm around so you could run your fingers through her hair, as her carmine eyes fluttered shut. A soft teeth-grinding noise drifted from her, something she once told you was a rabbit’s way of showing contentedness. You smiled at it, shifting so you could press your mouth to the crown of her head, a subtle kiss.

You knew that soon, you would have to dart your way through the still pouring rain, back to your apartment. You would have to peel off soaking clothes, then take a warm shower together that you would both be too tired to make heated, before you could finally stumble to bed.

You didn’t dwell on any of that, however; you savored the moment, holding your love close to you as the dreamlike patterns of lights outside flickered across the rain-frosted glass.

At the end of the day, Shidou Ryusei becomes nothing.

During the day, lit by the radiance of the sun, he was something. He was in control of his own destiny, a daredevil chasing the high of the next explosion. Whether that explosion came from kicking a soccer ball or kicking some slime’s face in was irrelevant; it was the rush of endorphins it gave him that was important. He was in peak form, the predator at the top of the food chain, devouring the opportunities the world had gifted him, glutting himself on whatever adrenaline high presented itself. But it never lasted; the explosive energy he had faded to nothing at the end of the day, pleasure slipping through his fingers like smoke in the wind, escaping him with the escaping daylight. After sunset, he was left empty, void of any sort of vitality; like a combustion engine with no fuel to light, he was left stiff, and cold, and useless. Forgotten.

He didn't even bother trying to stay up much past sunset, most days. Even with the sun’s lingering warmth rising from the earth during the night, it was always too cold for him, without the light shining on him. He was a photosynthetic organism, relying on sunlight to create his own sustenance in the form of his explosions.

Ryusei liked to think that the faster he went to sleep, the faster he would see the sun again.

It even worked, sometimes.

But sometimes it didn't. Sometimes he lay there for hours, too tired to do anything, and too tired to sleep. It was a bone-deep exhaustion, one that made his joints ache dully, and his eyes stay stuck open, as tears dripped freely down from them onto the thin and faded material of his pillowcase. Those nights, he desperately waited for the sun to return, so he could come back to life. So he could go back to seeking some way to make himself feel. And maybe he would be lucky enough to somehow make his mark on the world, so he would no longer fade from it every night like a mirage.

But he hadn’t made a mark on the world yet. He had yet to make something of himself.

So, at night, Shidou Ryusei would cry as he became nothing.

-

You were both a particular brand of lonely.

Something in the both of you had noticed each other; like calling to like. You were too close for people who had known each other for such a short period of time; it would be concerning, if either of you cared. But you didn’t, so you spent your days attached at the hip. Gorging yourselves on the attention of the other, desperate creatures starved for the acknowledgement and understanding that you had only ever found in each other.

It wasn’t an understanding borne of explicit conversation; the two of you had discussed almost everything under the sun and moon, but you both excelled at skirting the razor’s edge of baring your issues fully. Whether it was because neither of you understood your own mind yourself, or because some sort of animal instinct in you just understood each other without having to spill the gore of your worst feelings, it was unclear. It didn’t really matter, anyways. You were two sides of the same corroded coin, two pieces of a defective puzzle that could only ever fit together.

-

It was past midnight, and you were exhausted. The noise from the television was nothing more than the canned background hum to Ryusei's presence. The true focus of the scene was his flickering gaze and the hot press of his thighs against yours. You were sitting so close you could nearly count every single one of his numerous blond lashes. The shadows they cast on his cheeks were hypnotizing to you, and you found yourself leaning into him, with a combination of your own sleepiness and the dizzy, floaty sensation you always felt when you were this close to him casting you off balance. You could not help yourself from leaning further in, until you were falling into him. Your cheek landed pressed onto the warmth of his exposed collarbone, where his oversized shirt collar had slipped down to reveal tanned skin. You let out a heavy sigh, nuzzling into him, as he wrapped his arms around you to pull you ever closer to his heated body.

“Tired, babes?” he asked, the uncharacteristic deep, slow tone to his voice betraying his own sleepiness.  

“Mhmm hmm,” you mumbled. “Too tired to go home. I’m staying here tonight.”

With anyone else, you wouldn’t have been so bold as to invite yourself to stay the night for the first time. But everything was different with Ryusei. You could be as bold as you wanted, take what you wanted, without fear of ridicule or rejection or anger. He would just give you a particular feral grin, when you asserted yourself, that made you feel confident and on top of the world.

It’s only because you’re so close that you felt the slight hitch in his breath. He covered it nearly seamlessly with his usual attitude. “Of course! I’d love to have you spend the night with me, sexy~”

You nipped lightly at his collar bone, chastising. “Just sleeping, Ryu, no innuendo intended.”

“Aww, how can you say that, after putting your teeth on me,” he whined, teasing. “You know that gets me going, sugar…”

“I want you to get going. To sleep,” you retorted. “I’m tiredddd.” You let your voice trail into a childish whine.

“Can’t have that, can we?” Ryusei shifted, sliding one arm underneath your thighs and one behind your back to lift you up into a bridal carry. “Do I have Your Highness’s permission to take you to bed? I promise not to have my wicked way with you there. Knight’s honor.”

“Ah, why would I not trust my most loyal knight? Take me away, good sir.”

Ryusei grinned wide enough to show gums, before carrying you out of the living room with surprising gentleness.

(Though it wasn’t entirely surprising, to you.)

-

The room was dark, aside from the weak, silvered light of the moon and stars that leaked from Ryusei’s uncovered window. It was just bright enough for you to see the faintest details of his face.

He looked softer, hair down, kohl washed away, venomous pink eyes half-lidded; a sort of physical representation of how he bared himself to you. You were compelled to pull him closer to you, until you could bury your face into his product-free hair. You let out a contented hum at feeling the abnormal silkiness of it.

You were so comfortable; you felt like you were melting into the mattress. It had been forever since you had gone to sleep feeling so relaxed (and safe, and not alone); you couldn’t be blamed for nearly drifting off the second you laid down with Ryusei in your arms.

You were almost gone, slipping into dreamland by the pull of the gentle hands of Morpheus, when you felt Ryusei begin to tremble in your arms.

It was like a switch had been flipped, removing sleep from the edges of your mind like the swipe of an eraser on a chalkboard. You were immediately focused on him.

“Ryusei? Are you okay?” you whispered, a sliver of panic slipping into your voice.

You could feel him shaking slightly in your hold, arms wrapped in a vice grip around you, face pressed tightly into your neck, hiding his expression from you. You felt a drip of wetness fall onto your skin and slip down.

He was crying.

“Baby,” you murmured, hugging his lax body even closer to yours, like you could tuck him away into your ribcage, safe and sound. “Ryu, darling, what’s wrong?” You felt off-balance, perhaps for the first time since you had met. Your understanding did not extend to this, not when he had so carefully pirouetted around any true pain he felt when you talked.

He gripped you tighter for a moment, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, before he relaxed his hold. “Nothin’s wrong.” He lifted his head to look at you.

The tear trails on his face were lit up like liquid drips of mercury in the moonlight. But he didn’t look devastated, as you expected; instead, he had the smallest, softest smile you had ever seen him wear. Even in the half-light, his gaze was soaked in so much affection, he looked love-drunk. It rendered you speechless.

“Y’know,” he laughed wetly, “I usually cry, at night. When I become nothing.” He took a deep, shuddering breath.

You lifted one hand to his face, wiping away the fresh flow of tears that leaked from his glittering eyes. Your eyebrows were creased, a pang going through your heart at his words.

But he wasn’t done, pausing only to nuzzle his cheek further into your hand, like a housecat. “Still cryin’, tonight, but I’m not sad. Y’see babes? I’m not sad. I don’t feel like nothing, I feel happy. Happy tears, sweetheart, just cause tonight I’m with you.” He giggled, hiccupping slightly as his laughter caught on the tears still welling up.

You gaped at Ryusei for a moment, before you yanked him into a kiss. It wasn’t the best kiss ever, still wet with his tears, barely more than a firm press of mouths together before you release him.

He grinned at you for a moment, before dropping back down onto you, boneless. “I feel drunk. Like I’m high. Crossfaded. On you, babe!~” he blabbered, sing-song. “It’s not an explosion, it’s a bonfire inside of me! Shit, this might be better than playing. Or fighting. I might even be a little horny right now, I can’t tell.”

“God, you’re so weird, Ryu.” You punctuated your statement with a firm kiss to his forehead, making an exaggerated ‘mwah’ sound that drew a giggle from the man on top of you. “I love you. I’m gonna be with you forever. I’ll move in, and we’ll sleep together every night, you’ll never feel like nothing again.”

“Maybe I AM horny…horny off of love…emotionally horny?” he rambled. “Fuck, I don’t know, babe, but I love you too, and I’m never gonna let your pretty ass go now, y’hear?”

“Perfect. We’ll become one organism. Symbiosis. Like lichen,” you breathed.

Ryusei let out a lovesick sigh. “Love it when you talk sexy to me.”

You felt one of his hands drift down to squeeze one of your ass cheeks.

You let out an exasperated, but fond sigh. “Ryusei. Go to sleep.”

“Okay honey~” he said, letting out a little giggle into your collarbone.

(And for the first time in years, neither of you fell asleep feeling empty, or lonely; and you would wake up to find joy in the sunrise together.)

You sighed into the night air, relaxing as the late breeze cooled your heated face. Office parties sucked. You were glad you were able to sneak away from you drunk, overly friendly coworkers, and find yourself some peace.

Your jaw had just finished unclenching when the door behind you clicked open, bringing with it a rush of sound from the party inside before it swung back shut.

So much for your peace.

“Didn’ know anyone else was out here. Hope ya don’t mind me intrudin’,” said the newcomer.

“’S fine,” you said, even if you wanted to scream a little.

You recognized the voice; Karasu Tabito, who worked on the floor above you as part of the company’s legal department. You never really interacted with him, aside from including him in a few email chains; if you didn’t know he was friends with Otoya Eita, you wouldn’t have an opinion on the man at all. However, considering you did know Otoya (both by his reputation for dating or hooking up with half of the office and cheating on at least an unlucky third of them, and because he tried to hit on you during your first joint meeting), your opinion on Karasu leaned towards the negative. Still, you didn’t need any more rumors of your snappishness circulating, so you didn’t kick up a fuss at sharing the balcony with him. You would be making your excuses to leave soon anyways; you had been there for over an hour, which was enough to say you had socialized.

Ignoring the man who had sidled up beside you, you blinked up at the sky. The city didn’t have the greatest clarity, but letting your eyes adjust for a moment revealed a splattering of the brightest stars, visible against the deep purple of the heavens. You wished you were in the countryside, where it was so pitch-dark that you could see all the constellations, and the pale, cloudy arm of the milky way as it stretched above you. Where the air was clear, and you were away from the nagging voices of your coworkers and the ambient, unsleeping, anxious hum of the city. But instead, you were stuck at a shit job you were overqualified for, with officemates you barely tolerated most days, just because you were too apathetic to try for anything better.

You slumped against the railing. You should’ve stayed home.

“Hey,” came the deep voice once more. “Ya okay over there?”

You turned to look at him, your cheek pillowed in the crook of your arm as you squinted up at him. His expression was fairly flat, but his eyes seemed honest enough, so you replied. Albeit sarcastically. “I’m doing awesome, man. I love it here.”

He snorted, lip twitching up into a small smirk. “I can see that. Yer jus’ the life of the party, huh?”

“Yup.” You turned away from him, your gaze returning to the stars.

“I woulda thought otherwise, what with how ya were staring up at the sky like ya were prayin’ for aliens ta come and abduct you.”

A sharp bark of laughter escaped you. “Where did you pull that from? Big alien believer yourself?”

“Not any more than’s logical.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued. “And how much is logical?”

He moved closer, leaning against the railing so he could more easily catch your eyes. The indigo of his irises caught the light, and, for a second, you thought he was rather pretty. “I mean, it stands ta reason, statistically, that we’re not alone out there.”

“Don’t you think we would have some evidence of alien life, if there was any?” you asked, sardonically. “Statistics aren’t always accurate, or comprehensive.”

Karasu doesn’t seem off put by your tone, smirking right back at you without a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “Have ya ever heard of the Fermi Paradox?”

“Of course. I’m quite partial to the great filter theory, myself.”

“Do ya think the filter is behind us or ahead of us?”

You stared up at the sky with a frown on your face. “Ahead. I hope civilization hits a wall soon. I’m tired.”

He let out a laugh like a raven’s cackle. “Well aren’tcha a bright spot of sunshine? Personally, I think they’re out there, jus’ watchin’ us.”

“Why?”

“’T’s what I woulda done.”

“Ooh, alien civilization observer Karasu. You’d need a better title than that though, right now it sounds a bit voyeuristic.”

“Tabito.”

You turned back to look at him. “Huh?”

“Ya can call me Tabito.”

You studied him for a moment. The strangely gelled shape of his hair reflected the starshine like an oil slick, and the light seemed to drip down his face and settle into the amused wrinkles at the corners of his bright eyes. He was overly familiar with you, accent and tone breaking down any sort of professional distance, but you found that you, oddly enough, didn’t mind. It was refreshing to talk to someone so frank, who didn’t take your bluntness for an attack. Instead, he seemed…amused by you. (Charmed, even, if you were being wistful.)

“Sure. Tabito,” you said, before offering up your own name in return. You ignored the little flicker of something in your chest at hearing it repeated back at you in his deep voice.

“So, what was that about voyeurism?...”

You glanced away, a little flustered but unwilling to surrender. “I stand by it. Secretly observing a different intelligent species sounds weird as fuck, actually. I don’t want to think about it.”

“Aw, wouldn’t ya want ta observe me if I was ‘n intelligent species? No? ‘M hurt, truly.”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to say, ‘Maybe I would if you were an intelligent species.’ But something in you held back from using one of your typical snappish replies. Instead, you said, “Well. Perhaps I would make an exception. For you. Maybe.”

His smile was so big that it caused his eyes to form crescents. “Aw, that’s so sweet of ya, little storm cloud.”

Your nose crinkled. “Storm cloud? I thought I just gave you name privileges.”

“Ya just reminded me of one, tha’s all. Gloomy. And fluffy.”

“Fluffy?”

“On the inside.”

“Sure, Tabito.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, soaking in the relative peace of the little balcony you’ve found yourselves on. The stars continued to glitter overhead, with more and more peeking through the gloom of the night sky as time ticked past.

“Do ya need someone ta walk ya home?” he asked.

You didn’t. “Sure.”

-

Unlike his friend, Tabito was the perfect gentleman when he brought you home, leaving with nothing more than a good night and a cheeky salute. You wouldn’t have invited him in, not on a first meeting. But. You had a feeling that you might not be so unwilling after getting to know him better.

The next morning, there was a book sitting on your desk. With it, a note: “For my little storm cloud, to borrow. Tell me your opinion on it, I’m sure it’ll be interesting ;)” Hell. Maybe you didn’t want to believe the great filter was ahead; maybe life should continue on. It wasn’t all bad.