Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a well-known fact to all that knew him that Saiki Kusuo, pink-haired genius and (probably) the most powerful psychic in the world, absolutely hated attention. 

He despised it, even. Attention always brought its best friend, disaster, and its distant cousin, humiliation, to the cesspool that was his life. It also had a tendency to involve the circus clowns that followed him around and called themselves his ‘friends’ and left behind a massive mess for him to clean up.  

So no, he did not thrive off of attention. If he did, he and Teruhashi might be able to stay in the same room for more than a single minute. Or maybe he’d even be semi-willing to be spotted with any of his rainbow-colored idiots, and endure the stares of other, normal people who had normal friends. (Not that said idiots were his friends, quit assuming things.)

On the flip side, he loved being invisible. Heck, it was even one of his powers, one that had been born after Kusuke attempted to call attention to his antennas soon after he’d been ‘gifted’ them. He was a pro at skirting other people’s gazes, and even better at ensuring that there would be no need to stare at all! 

Ergo, he should have been thrilled as Kuboyasu turned away from him to talk to Kaido. Now that his most observant leech was looking away, he could easily slip away and go hide in his room. He could practically hear his comforter urging him to curl up under it and eat the coffee jelly in the fridge he’d been fantasizing about all afternoon. 

And he  was  thrilled, definitely. He was very thrilled. He was so pleased, in fact, he would be running for the hills any second now. 

Yup, just as soon as the squirming, irritated feeling in his stomach dissipated he’d be gone. And just as soon as Kuboyasu stopped talking to Kaido so the punk could say goodbye, he would pack up his stuff and skedaddle.

This was normal, obviously. They were best friends. Of course, Kaido would want to talk to Kuboyasu and monopolize the former delinquent's attention even though Kusuo had been talking to him first. Yeah, it’s not like he had been responding or anything, but- shut up, okay? The point of the matter is, Kusuo was very glad that he was no longer being spoken to! He didn’t fault Kaido because Kuboyasu was very tolerable, and he was reasonable and strong. It made sense to want to befriend someone like that.

Good grief, this was pathetic. 

No more loitering. Kusuo was right when he said now was the best time to leave. He began shoving his things in his school bag, ready to walk home without any of his clown posse’s accompaniment. 

Of course, Kuboyasu decided now was the time to turn his dumb, bespectacled eyes back on Kusuo and open up his stupid mouth. “Goin’ home, Saiki? Wait for us, we’ll walk with ya.”

Kusuo did not pout or scowl or anything of the like, despite what Kuboyasu’s and Kaido’s minds claimed. He wore a masterful poker face and rarely expressed any emotions, besides disdain (which the others chose to ignore). He simply packed up faster in response, hoping to get a headstart.

With everything together, he got up, steadfastly ignoring the pair near his desk, and tried to leave the classroom. Unfortunately, he was intercepted by a large and heavy hand suddenly settling on his shoulder. He leaped around a foot in the air, which was more reasonable than his first instinct to jump through the ceiling. Kusuo fought to calm his suddenly racing heart as Nendo’s gruff voice boomed behind him, “Oh hey! Let’s walk home together, pal!” 

And as always, the leader of the circus would be here to put a stop to any of his peace-seeking plans. He hadn’t even made it out the door, good grief.

 He huffed out a sigh, accepting his fate with an air of learned helplessness as the other two finished gathering their things and met them at the door. Kuboyasu glanced down and flashed him a crooked grin. Kusuo felt his stomach squirm in a very different way. He just couldn’t win, huh?

Like clockwork, Nendo turned back to face them all. His face shone with the simple-minded excitement of a particularly dopey (and lovable) dog. “Let’s go out for ramen! I know this really good place, my friend’s uncle’s daughter’s boyfriend knows this really good place, their noodles are super yummy!”

“Yeah, I guess I could go for some.” Shun hummed, also following routine. He acted like they didn’t eat it almost every day after school. The inane normality of it made Aren smile. At one point it would have made him blanch, the thought of getting into such a monotonous and harmless routine. Now that he had cleaned up his act, he found it easy to cherish these relaxed and (mostly) tranquil moments. He wasn’t entirely used to it yet, but he was getting there. Normie life was more stressful in ways he’d never even imagined, but there were a lot more small comforts to relish. 

Speaking of small comforts, he glanced over at his shorter, silent homeboy. Saiki’s company, like always, was solid and reliable. His characteristic blank-faced expression was in top form and his posture was as refined as ever. Aren valued his evasive homie's steadiness greatly. Amidst the chaos of their friend group, Saiki was, despite somehow always managing to be at the center of it, their tether to reality. Aren prided himself on making quick and competent decisions, but he wasn’t exactly immune to the other’s shenanigans. What could he say? He got carried away occasionally, so sue him.

Aren felt his smile widen. “Yeah, me too,” he chimed in. “Saiki, you comin’ dude?” 

Aren hoped he was. He truly did enjoy being with the other boy. He wouldn’t mind getting to know him better, actually. It felt like he knew so little. Especially because he sometimes felt like Saiki could see right through him.

The boy in question just gave him an unimpressed side-eye and said nothing, also as per usual. But he stayed in the center of their little pack next to Shun. Aren snorted. So that was a yes.

It was strange though. Nothing was visibly off about him, but Aren got the weirdest sense that he'd flustered Saiki.

“Stop it, you big oaf! Before I unleash my black beat on your sorry ass!” Shun yelled, giving a weak smack to Nendo’s hand as the brute reached for the other’s drink. 

“You haven’t drank it even once! And I wanna try it!” 

“Because I’m eating right now! Would you drink something while you were still chewing!?”

Nendo gave the chuunibyou a blank-eyed stare. “Why would I do that? That sounds gross.”

“You-!” 

Eating out with these guys guaranteed a meal and a show. And what a show it was, Aren mused, watching Shun make a throttling motion towards Nendo. He chuckled before turning to gauge Saiki's opinion. 

Annnnd…he wasn’t even looking at their free entertainment. No, instead he was making big, imploring eyes at another table. With anyone else, Aren would have been tempted to brush it off as a teenage boy brandishing their weapon of choice: raging hormones. This was Saiki though, who he was pretty sure he’d seen climb a tree to hide from Teruhashi, so he craned his neck to get a look.

Aren followed his eye line and caught sight of a red velvet cake being shared between a group of girls seated across the room. He tossed his head back and cackled, adding to the racket. It would never not be hilariously endearing to him that the most composed and dour boy he knew always lit up at the mere sight of something sweet.

“Hungry for dessert Saiki?” He chuckled, his laughter slowly dying down. The said boy tore his gaze from the object of his desire and turned back to look at him. 

The expression on his homeboy's face straight-up sucker-punched him in the gut. 

His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and his plump lips were pursed together into a soft pout. It softened his face, letting Aren pay full attention for once instead of feeling his gaze slide right by. All of a sudden, so many things about the boy in front of him were trying to get his attention: his pale, dewy skin, the sharp slant of his jaw and cheekbones, the pleasing shape of his nose; most of all, the sweet pink of his lips kept pulling his gaze down, and if Aren looked close enough he swore he saw a bit of drool in the corner of it.

Saiki was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen. Teruhashi was indescribably beautiful, of course, but Saiki practically ripped the title of 'cutest being' out of her dainty hands. How the ever-loving fuck had he missed this now glaringly obvious fact? 

His heart had absolutely melted, something he didn’t even think was possible for a man of his nature. “Uh-” his voice cracked humiliatingly, something he was pretty sure he'd outgrown recently. He cleared his throat as best he could, trying not to blink too much. “Give me a sec, ‘kay?” He tried for a confident grin before scrambling to grab a menu from the other's side and calling over a server to order. Throughout the interaction, Saiki never lost his huge puppy-dog eyes. It made Aren’s body light up with an almost sizzling warmth.

Sometime later, Shun and Nendo were still going at it like two rabid dogs, but he ignored them in favor of thanking the server. He’d have to tip her well for putting up with all of their- uh, everything. 

For now, though, he slid the cake over to his unusually expressive friend. “Here, sweet thing,” he cooed teasingly, trying to regain control of himself despite his palpitating heart. “All for you, yeah?”

Thanks to his height advantage, he could just barely make out the rosy furl of Saiki’s long lashes from under his green lenses. They fluttered once, twice, before he responded with a soft and honeyed, “Thank you, Kuboyasu.”

Oh hell. Oh hell. 

His attempt at a joke had fallen about as flat Shun's shitty ass pancakes. The nickname was just a slip of the tongue, but the delicate, baby-pink flush splayed over the other’s cheeks as he dug in had him reevaluating its originally assumed accuracy.

Good fucking grief. Stupid Kuboyasu.

Kusuo jabbed his fork into the pork chops his mom had lovingly prepared for him. It was as delicious as always. He tried his best to focus on how tasty it was, but his thoughts kept getting yanked back to earlier.

Stupid Kuboyasu and his stupid, rumbling voice. All he’d done was buy him a slice of cake, which Kusuo was almost certain he deserved anyway for allowing himself to be dragged along with the others. Heck, it was the bare minimum compensation for his time and energy. It took a great deal of effort to be polite after all. Especially when instead of listening to their petty squabbles, he could be curling up with some obscure paperback while eating humanity’s most astounding creation (coffee jelly, of course).

Sweet thing.

Kusuo forced himself to swallow even as his stomach filled with fluttering. He'd thought he was over that, but reminiscing brought the feeling back in full force. 

Kuboyasu had been giving him a lot of indigestion recently. No, he’d never gotten indigestion before, but what else could it be? Maybe he’d somehow teamed up with Kusuke behind his back to mildly inconvenience him or something. That made sense, right?

(If they were trying to do so, they’d be better off figuring something else out. This new feeling wasn’t terrible, Kusuo supposed. No, it often brought pleasing feelings with it, actually, something he was steadfastly ignoring. 

He used to be very skilled at that, he swears.)

That wasn’t the issue though. The issue was, it wasn’t the stupid nickname, or the gravel of Kuboyasu’s voice, or the frankly amazing desert, or even the fact that it had been free that had Kusuo obsessing over what was otherwise their usual routine. 

All for you, yeah?

Yes.

After all, it's not like Kusuo didn’t deserve it. He put up with a lot of headaches, and not just from his own little pocket of reality. He was dealing with a volcano that threatened the existence of his country. It was safe to say that this was a bit out of his way, even if it would, he supposed, inadvertently affect him in a way. 

He also aided the others very often. Heck, even his parents. He redirected them from their mindless arguments and cleaned up messes of their own makings. He’d earned a reward. Many in fact, and they were pretty overdue too.

And truthfully, at the end of the day, Kusuo really was the absolute best thing this world had to offer. Even Teruhashi, despite being God’s favorite, was in second place compared to him. This planet’s biggest achievement was housing him, Saiki Kusuo. 

He was the only person who stood above the rest. He was the best of the best, in fact. So it followed that he would get the best of the best too, no?

He popped another piece of his meal into his mouth. Was it egotistical if it was true? He wasn’t bragging, per se. He was just stating a fact! He really was deserving of these things, like free cake and Kuboyasu’s undivided attention. He was way too extraordinary for this world's shitty reality; it would do everyone some good to remember that.

His dad gave a sudden laugh at something his mom said, and Kusuo felt himself being pulled abruptly back down to earth.

What had he been thinking? Of course, he didn’t automatically deserve everything he wanted just because he was himself. He received more responsibilities because he was himself, not praise and adoration. 

Being extraordinary wasn't a good thing. It didn't make him admirable or lovable. It made him a freak. 

He didn’t even want to be spoiled. He could fulfill any possible desire with just a thought. If he wasn’t doing it himself, that meant he didn’t want it. It was that simple. Inconveniencing others was on the same level as receiving attention: he hated it. Just because some stupid, human boy had bought him some cake and had called him an even stupider nickname didn’t mean anything. Even if it had made his stomach feel like it was doing Olympics-level gymnastics. 

It didn’t mean anything because Kusuo was choosing to ignore it, so there! Take that, foreign feeling!

He let himself hold onto a smug grin to celebrate his masterful emotional repression-ing. It disappeared pretty quickly as his dad noticed and became terrified of some unforeseen (but probably deserving) karma coming his way. 

He smoothed out his face, placing his usual placid mask right back where it belonged. No need to make someone fear retribution when there had been no (major) slight against him. Nope, Kusuo was as just and impartial as they came. 

“Damn, jealousy’s a bitch, huh?” One Aiura Mikoto said in wonder the next day, watching as Tortisuka effortlessly made an absolute fool of himself in that special way only he could. It truly was a skill, in Kusuo’s honest opinion. Not many people could label themselves this sad and pathetic in so many people’s eyes so quickly. 

“Ah! I’d argue that the presence of the emotion is more of a reflection on the person feeling it rather than the feeling itself!” Self-proclaimed childhood bestie chimed in. Good grief, Akechi was evidently in peak form today, to the detriment of Kusuo’s poor ears. 

“It’s generally linked to a lack of security in relationships, though its presence does not inherently mean that the relationship is weak or fragile. Perhaps the person experiencing said emotion has had previous poor relationships and has developed jealous tendencies because of it. Of course, this is not an excuse for reactionary measures and should instead be properly discussed in a non-judgmenta-”

“You said it, Tou-zumi. Like, a bunch, actually,” Aiura cut in, not taking her eyes off of the germ they were trash-talking. Kusuo had managed to catch that her irises were star-shaped today in between x-ray resets. Were those contacts comfortable? The tiny objects had always made him anxious. The thought of putting something so easily tampered with on such a vulnerable spot made him feel sick and flighty.

Aiura wasn't done though, because she gave Akechi a sideways glance and squinted her eyes. “What 'bout right now, babe? How would you describe alla this?” She questioned, motioning at the whole scene with a single, dazzlingly-manicured finger.

Akechi took a breath and Kusuo braced himself. 

“He-who-shall-not-be-named has, in his dilusioned head, fabricated a romantic relationship with the poor girl we are currently observing now. He has attempted to engage her in conversation twice now and has been blown off both times. He is now experiencing what is known as reactionary jealousy, which stems from seeing a presumed threat to a relationship. This differs from suspicious jealousy, which originates from an imagined threat to a relationship. Of course, in this circumstance, the relationship was imagined rather than actually existing. I do not imagine that he-who-shall-not-be-named  actually  believed he was in a relationship with the unlucky girl, but rather had his hopes up for one. Now what we are seeing is an irrational reaction to a likely competitor on a relationship that never existed, despite his desperate wishes.”

Kusuo fought back a shiver as a sense of foreboding rippled through him. Why did it feel like he was in the middle of a literary device?

“Once he is done experiencing this brief heartbreak, he-who-shall-not-be-named will move on to the next pretty girl who catches his fancy, as he very rarely holds any true romantic feelings towards these unfortunate girls. Perhaps this is a reaction to heavy and frequent implications of sexual desire in reference to himself as an incredibly young child, leading to a distorted perception of sexuality as a concept. Regardless of the reason, the three of us will be there to ensure nothing goes too far, as we, in particular Kusuo, have taken on the role of a parent-like handler for he-who-shall-not-be-named.” 

Yes, this was true. Ignoring the mention of being parental, Kusuo  was the responsible one who looked after Toritsuka to keep his actions PG-13. It would be out of character for him of all people to get jealous. Not that he even had anyone to get jealous over. 

And he wasn’t insecure.

He wasn’t!

Maybe he was too secure- er, confident. It sure seemed that way when he remembered his high and mighty thoughts from last night. No, he wasn’t jealous in any of his relationships, imagined or otherwise.

He thought about a lopsided smirk and scowled. 

He was a bit confused though. Hypothetically speaking, if he was feeling jealous, it’d be towards someone he didn’t want hanging around the object of his interest, right? But he didn’t mind it if Kaido hung around Kuboyasu. They hung out all the time because they were best friends. And Kusuo really was fine with that. But when Kuboyasu had been focused on him and him alone, Kaido coming up to distract the former punk had really pissed him off. 

All of this was theoretical, by the way. Assigning names and faces was more to help make sure it could be easily understood, not a sign that Kusuo was reflecting on past events. Reflecting sucked, and he made an effort to avoid it as much as his emotions. 

He peeked over at Akechi, trying to guess how much he’d be judged for asking something. He didn’t expect to get judged by these two, of course not. They were disgustingly patient with him. 

It used to make him very uncomfortable. Now it only made him kinda uncomfortable, something Akechi had taken to calling progress.

He was more so attempting to feel for his level of self-hatred today. It didn’t seem particularly high, so he forced himself to take the plunge. “Is it always jealousy?” 

He almost backed down when he received twin blinks of surprise. He refused to chicken out, though. He had a feeling this would just continue otherwise. 

“Feeling upset when someone is taking up another person’s attention.” He explained. He stalwartly kept his face blank, lest they begin to wonder if the question came from beyond a general inquisitiveness on the workings of normal humans.

Aiura continued giving him a suspicious look, but Akechi was kind enough to move on and answer his question. “I suppose not?” He said, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand. “It might be something more similar to offense, perhaps, if you feel that you should be receiving more attention than you are. Thinking about it now, it could possibly is a mixture of the two emotions that a person may feel upon seeing the object of their affection interacting with someone else.”

Good grief. That was so much worse than it just being jealousy. That was so much worse. Now it just seemed like he was some bratty princess who got fussy whenever he wasn’t receiving his dues. 

Which he wasn’t.

Sensing weakness, Aiura leaned forward, a smug cat-like grin taking over her features. Her elbows propped on the table to frame her chest in a motion that was probably more habit than actual flirting by now. She folded her hands over each other, resting her chin on them and sort of mirroring Akechi’s posture. She held on to that stupid grin the entire time and leered at him, seemingly waiting for something. 

Kusuo just raised a brow in response. He was a master at stonewalling. Even determined, soothsayer gyarus wouldn’t get a single thing out of him. Especially since there wasn’t anything to get. 

She batted her eyes at him. Kusuo mimicked her without thinking, then scowled. 

If there was one thing Kusuo had over this girl though, it was patience. Right on cue, Aiura cracked. “C'mon, Ku Baby!" Ew, don't use his mom's nickname for him. That was for her only.

"N-E par-ti-cu-lar reason you're curious, sweet kitten o’ mine?” She continued to lean forward with each word of her convoluted nickname. Kusuo endeavored to maintain the space between them, but there was only so much merging he could do with their booth without exposing his psychic powers.

“No.” Ha! Masterful parry Kusuo. 

“Sure?” And she continued to push! He gave his best glare in response, the kind that makes weak men (Toristuka, his dad, to name a few) fall apart and stronger ones (He couldn't really think of any outside of a certain punk who he was pretending didn't exist) start to sweat. Aiura was in a class of her own, as she didn’t even blink. No, she simply giggled, her heart frozen solid and empathy non-existent as went in for the kill. “Like, no hella handsome or  super hunky or moderately gentlemanly guys to sigh about?” He gave her a flat stare at that last descriptor and she shrugged. "Teenage boy, hon. Bar isn't that high up. Maybe give him, like, a couple years."

He refused to dignify that little statement with a response. 

“Oh!” Akechi, the fake-ass bestie, darted in for a sneak attack. “Yes, he is rather attractive isn’t he? I wouldn’t mind being in a romantic entanglement with Kubo-”

He slammed down his hands and stood up. He didn’t have to put up with this. If they were going to just hold this over his head, he held no guilt over leaving. 

“Ah, that’s a shame, Kusuo,” Akechi called out. “Especially after I had already ordered dessert for you and everything…”

Perhaps he was a bit rash. He was just and unbiased, remember? Reasonable, too. Yes, it would do to hear these two out, especially because they were more on the tolerable side. He sat back down, kindly ignoring Aiura’s snicker because he was just so forgiving like that. 

She was not as sweet and kind as he was because she continued to talk about his current major annoyance. “Speaking deadass, it's okay for you to have feelings, honey. It’s not the end of the world for you to like someone."

Yes, it was. 

“Even if you just like someone instead of like-liking them. It's totally normal for people to want to seek out others, and that includes you, y'know."

Haha, she misspoke. Kusuo was not a part of 'people'. 

“You deserve to have someone that will take care of you, babe. This hunk of a man would obvi 100% do just that. I know you know it, babe!”

Back to this argument? He'd already established that everyone was less efficient than he was and thus any help offered was just an inconvenience he couldn't politely turn down.

“Stop pouting, Kusuo.” 

Uh oh, real name. He finally looked up at them. They were staring at him with that weird tired fondness that they gained when they thought Kusuo was being (in Aiura’s words) a ‘stubborn brat’. Which, rude. They should try being nice and forgiving like Kusuo every once in a while.

“Oh are we talking about Satou?” Some weirdo he’d never met in his life asked, sporting a new red spot in the shape of a hand on his cheek. 

“Kuboyasu Aren, actually!” Akechi chirped, responding to the purple-headed stranger for some odd reason. Then his brain caught up to the other’s words.

He could die, he could die, that goddamn chatterbox wasn’t supposed to say his name out loud. There was a prickling heat spreading over his entire goddamn face even as his body went frigid with mortification. He felt like imploding, then maybe exploding for funsies. 

Random person laughed. It grated on Kusuo’s ears. “I get it. I’m more of a ladies' man, but goddamn, wouldn’t mind climbing that absolute tree of a man.”

Ew, ew, ew. The thought of this walking trash standing within a five-foot radius of his guy made him want to puke. 

And how dare he talk so vulgarly and flippantly about him in front of Kusuo! Had his invisibility kicked in or something? Was he dead? Or maybe this stupid, fake-ass monk had a death wish. Kusuo would make it slow, just for him.

Toritsuka was, as stated before, a weak man. He fell apart like wet cardboard in the face of Kusuo’s look. “It was a joke! I wouldn’t try anything!” He whined.

He flat-out refused to answer, instead choosing to let it go in favor of facing forward and waiting eagerly. Their server was coming back with Kusuo’s sweets and he refused to let the sight of the pervy monk spoil this happy occasion. 

Aiura sighed, finally leaning back to give Kusuo his much-desired personal space. “Whatevs, I guess. Just wanted to let you know that we’re all totes here for you, babe. Even if you're, like, a complete tsundere about it, I know you want reassurance too.”

Moving on from that heartfelt comment (didn’t she know he was allergic to those? Seriously, good grief.), the cake Akechi had ordered for him was finally here. 

Akechi began to prattle about the merits of friendship and its necessity for the healthy growth and development of human beings. Basically, everything Kusuo hated hearing about, so he focused more on his bribe and took a bite, feeling a smile settle on his lips in delight. 

Still though, even though it had been free too, the cake somehow didn't taste as good as the one Kuboyasu had bought him. Kusuo couldn't quite put his finger on why. 

Chapter Text

Something had shifted in Saiki. Aren couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he was feeling its effects. 

Case in point. He could feel himself being stared at as their little group made their way to school. That, surprisingly, wasn't the weird part. Saiki was prone to staring, as Aren had come to realize. He stared at Shun, he stared at Nendo, he stared at Hairo, Yumehara, Mera, and of course, himself. Aren was pretty sure nobody else had picked up on this fact, solely because some of them (Kaido and Yumehara) would get flustered while others (Nendo and Hairo) would be even more clingy than they already were. (He got the feeling Mera wouldn't give a shit if she did notice.) 

Their resident grump was a people watcher, something Aren had come to accept and even take comfort in. No, the real difference was that Saiki was walking with them to school. Aren was almost certain he avoided them in the mornings and would also avoid them in the afternoons if he could get away fast enough. But he was here this morning, in the center of their little pack. 

Shun and Nendo were very obviously thrilled, at least. Shun was talking his ear off about the coming war between Dark Reunion and the Jet Black Wing's righteous army, while Nendo was, to put it nicely, being Nendo. 

Saiki didn't seem to be paying attention, which would appear normal. It really wasn't. To eyes duller than his, those whose survival hadn't hinged on drinking in every micro-twitch of a person's being, Saiki always seemed off in his own world. Aren knew better. Usually, despite the far-off glaze in his eyes, he was listening intently. 

(Or maybe because of it? There was that funny feeling again. It was the one he got when he felt like he was being monitored, even when his eyes told him he was alone. Somehow, it felt like Saiki's distant stare came from paying too much attention to too much at once rather than not at all.

His train of thought became fuzzy and slipped away. He shook his head to clear out the fog.)

Now though, he knew Saiki wasn't listening for once. Instead, there was intent in his stare. And it was focused entirely on him. 

That action was, in his language, a threat. But, coming from Saiki, willingly spending time with them was a sign of friendliness. The contrast was irritating. Being caught unaware could result in his brain splattered on the pavement. That was how his world worked. 

The contrast was also endearing because everything about Saiki was a contradiction. He grouched and scowled when invited but always ended up tagging along anyways. He scored smack dab in the middle of 181 students, but Shun (number 51, to be exact) always came to him for help with homework. 

He got the sense that Saiki tried not to stand out, but people gravitated towards him anyways. Maybe it had something to do with what he had seen just a week ago. There was something so endearing about the Saiki he'd managed to glimpse. It was something inexplicably human, different from the stone-faced wall he pretended he was. Aren wanted to coax that Saiki back out and get to know him better. That Saiki seemed happier, at least.

Saiki suddenly broke through the pack, speed walking ahead. "Pal, you wanna race?" Nendo called out. "Bet I could smoke ya!" 

Nendo's pal did not turn around. 

The big lug just let out a wild laugh, scooping up a screeching Shun and barreling forward. Even to his experienced and battle-worn heart, it was a mildly terrifying sight. Apparently, Saiki thought so, too. He sprung up and away in fright. Aren half expected him to start bristling and hissing. 

He received a stony glare in response. The sight would usually make him sweat, but the image of a startled cat had been burned into his eyes. He would be safe from nightmares of lethal death stares tonight, thankfully. 

Saiki continued to glare. He crossed his arms and turned to face him fully, then cocked his head slightly as he pursed his lips.

He was expecting something. Aren knew it in his fucking gut. 

The glare finally began to make him sweat. Pretty girls were terrifying. Aren would bet the wheels on his bike that pretty guys were the same. He was, admittedly, kinda damn afraid that this cute little thing would shank him as soon as he approached. You would think it'd be harder to hide weapons on slighter bodies. You would think.

You haven't felt fear until you've watched a chick pull out a pocket knife from the top of her stockings, hidden under her skirt. 

…Saiki in stockings.

Aren swore that Saiki turned the color of his hair as soon as the thought crossed his mind, but when he blinked, it turned out to be just a very pissed-off-looking Saiki. Mildly disappointing, as he would have liked to see him embarrassed and shy. It also confirmed his working theory that Kaido was right and Saiki was omnipresent. Aren was about to be struck down by the Jet Black Wing's righteous army for his sinful, earthly thoughts, and his death would be told as a tale to children not to be horrendously down bad. Or something.   

The boy in front of him scowled, looking downright murderous as Aren continued to fear for his life. Finally, Saiki huffed and rolled his eyes, ensuring he had made his displeasure known, before spinning on his heel and storming off. 

…Damn. That shit had made Aren mad hor- nervous, nervous!

There was another thing Kusuo absolutely hated, one he neglected to mention earlier. Teenage boys.

They were just so aggressive and brash and unthinking of Kusuo's desires. They themselves desired a little too much, and it was something Kusuo couldn't give. Even thinking about it was somehow making his mood even worse. The nerve of some people, honestly. 

…He liked when Kuboyasu thought about him. This, while embarrassing, was relatively easy to accept after a sort. What was more confusing was that he also liked when Kuboyasu looked at him. He liked that this past week, he'd caught the former punk's eyes studying his face several times and felt his gaze on his wrists and hands as he wrote. Him staring at his legs was-

Weird. Kusuo didn't want to approach even the thought of physical intimacy with a 30-foot stick. Yet, Kusuo didn't entirely mind Kuboyasu's roving eyes? What sense did that make? 

No, the attention just made Kusuo preen. It made him feel admired in a way different from Kusuke's weird worship/abhorrence. And yes, though he had little understanding of the concept beyond what he caught from the kids around him, it also made him feel…pretty. Desirable, maybe, in a way that made Kuboyasu want to be with him. 

The smug coil in his chest from the attention always left feelings of embarrassment in its wake. He was better than this. One of his key character traits was that he avoided attention at all costs. This- this was Teruhashi behavior! He was acting like her when Kusuo gave her the time of day. 

Oh, God. This was so humiliating. How dare that punk do this to him, an all-powerful psychic! Didn't he know the kind of revenge he had brought upon people for more minor offenses? 

Oh, yes. This would be good. Kuboyasu would be sorry he'd ever bewitched Kusuo with his protective, rugged nature and boyish smile and heavily defined muscles. He hadn't ever given a single flying crap about appearances. He had the world's most perfect, pretty girl obsessed with wooing him. So why was he suddenly getting flustered thinking about being wrapped up in a specific pair of sturdy arms?

No matter. He'd get back at Kuboyasu with his most carefully refined technique: a sub-zero, frozen-solid shoulder. 

Yes, Kusuo decided as he very carefully did not slam the door to the classroom open. That would be a fitting punishment for completely ruining their moment alone. Kusuo had been so nice. He had even made it as evident as possible that he wanted Kuboyasu to continue walking with him to school, maybe talk to him about the weather or something. And what did the other take from it? 

He assumed Kusuo wanted to stab him. 

Stab him? That was such a lowly form of assault. He was above that and would stick with summoning crackling orbs of pure energy, thank you. 

When he got to his seat, he realized that something else would ruin his mood. Or rather, someone else.

"Hey, babe! Looking madz cute today!" Aiura giggled, sitting at his desk. She laid herself over the top of it, splaying her arms over the edge like it was hers. "Here kinda late, no? I usually get here after you because you leave supes early like you don't want to be with any of your amazing, totes bodacious besties!" 

It was too early to try and translate girly pop into Japanese. Kusuo narrowed his eyes. Actually, it was too early to play this cat-and-mouse game in which he would inevitably gave up in the end. He just wanted her out now. 

"Kit kat, I'm doing you a massive favor. Look," she pointed at her actual desk further down the row. "You'll be closer to your favorite problem!" she made a 'v' with her fingers and held it near her face, winking and beaming ear to ear like she was sooo proud of herself. 

She was foiling his plans to isolate himself ahead of schedule. It wasn't even 9 am. He'd typically be circumventing her efforts around lunch. 

He really wasn't in the mood to argue or even talk. Kusuo desperately wished he could just say no flat out for once. But, he was a creature of habit and not really in the mood to combat years of learned behavior. So, he defaulted to his usual and chose to comply with as much irritation and passive aggressiveness as he could muster this early. He crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, making sure Aiura had seen before he (very carefully) stomped over to the desk that had been forced upon him. 

Sitting near Kuboyasu would just make things worse. The former punk had been sweating at the sight of him earlier. Kusuo suddenly sitting behind him, blocked from his field of view, was sure to irritate his finely-tuned instincts. 

Then again, maybe it was just Kuboyasu being a teenager: i.e., being afraid of interacting with someone he was crushing on. Even if he hadn't realized it.

…No. He really needed to stop this. This little thing, whatever it was, wouldn't go anywhere. Kusuo was on a separate level from the rest of humanity. That statement wasn't just a flare-up of his pride. Being inhuman wasn't a positive thing. It was-

Well. It was a lot of things. Almost all of them bad. His powers came in handy and helped people out of situations, but that just made people lazy. His powers made him lazy. It was evident by the fact that he could barely keep himself from jumping through the ceiling when he had his germanium ring on or when there was a bug or a Nendo around. 

He was paying the price for that relaxation now that Kusuke had created the canceller. He had to constantly be on guard with him because he couldn't sense him anymore. 

Now his powers were making him greedy. He could quite literally hear Kuboyasu's budding desire, and instead of doing the responsible thing and quashing it by showing him how bad of a match they were, he wanted to nurture it. He wanted to watch it bloom. He wanted the former punk to keep admiring him, to look at him with a special warmth in his eyes saved only for Kusuo. He wanted Kuboyasu to buy him sweets and call him stupid little nicknames that made his heart beat faster. He wanted him to get flustered and embarrassed around Kusuo because that's how he made Kusuo feel. 

He just wanted. Oh, how he wanted. 

But. 

He inhaled sharply and slowly let it out between his teeth. He wasn't allowed to have things like that. It was irresponsible to both him and the hypothetical partner. If something were to happen, if they were to split, Kusuo would either be stuck living every day in fear of being outed or find a way to ensure their silence. The thought made him feel sick. 

On the other hand, he would never subject a potential partner to a life with something like him. His own dad struggled with him showing love towards him, and the man was under obligation to at least hold a modicum of care for his son. 

As much as he despised his brother, at the end of the day, he was right. People hated and feared the unknown. Asking someone to love him, maybe even to entertain the thought of spending their lives together, went against human nature. It was too tall of an order. And Kusuo wasn't in the practice of asking things of others. 

He shut his eyes and rested his chin on his hand, trying to think. 

It just didn't make sense. Ignoring the desires of others had always been easy. Despite his hypnosis, stubborn silence, and resting grouch face, people still insisted on finding him attractive. It was annoying and had never been anything beyond that. Perhaps occasionally, he may have felt a slight interest in a very tiny few, those with a rare heart of gold and a genuine desire to do good in the world. Aiura fit the bill. If forced to, he wouldn't terribly mind being stuck with her for the rest of his life. Maybe even Teruhashi, if she stopped trying to corner him and also found a way to avoid attracting attention every time she so much as blinked. 

The way he felt about Kuboyasu was different. Kusuo wanted to do all the weird things, like spend time together, talk about their future, and grow old by each other's side.

He had used to be just as good at ignoring his own desires. Maybe this newfound selfishness wasn't entirely his power's fault. Maybe it was the group of idiots that had somehow skipped past his defenses. They hadn't even tried to sneak their way into a friendship with him or anything. It started with Nendo battering ram-ing his way into his life, and it just never stopped. Kusuo was a weak-willed coward who couldn't just end all of the fake relationships. And now it seemed like he wanted even more. 

Good grief. He really was a cold jerk, huh?

Kusuo opened his eyes as the cause of all this trouble walked into the room. Any annoyance he had felt towards Kuboyasu had pretty much dissipated. To be painfully honest with himself, he'd really just been embarrassed at his poor attempt at socializing. 

But! But, whenever Yumehara had made plans to interject herself into her crush-of-the-week's life, there had always been a few tactics she always fell back on. Putting the guy in a situation where he was socially obligated to walk with her was a classic. Heck, it would have worked on Kusuo if he hadn't changed the weather. 

So what sense did it make for Kuboyasu to assume he would assault him!? Was it just because he was a punk at heart? Was Kusuo really that off-putting? Or, or-

Or maybe he didn't actually see Kusuo that way? Maybe those thoughts about him being pretty really were just Kuboyasu being hormonal. People just thought things like that sometimes. He was pretty sure he'd caught a stray thought about it from Takahashi. 

Maybe Kuboyasu didn't think about literally continuing to walk with him, just alone now, because they weren't actually friends? Not that he saw Kuboyasu as a friend, of course not, but he was under the impression that the other did. But maybe he only stuck around because Kaido stuck like velcro on Kusuo. Maybe Kuboyasu was crushing on Kaido like people assumed. Maybe he wasn't even attracted to guys. Maybe he knew that Kusuo was a monstrous freak deep down. Maybe-

"Saiki, you good bro?" 

Kusuo had lept about halfway out of his seat before being met with resistance. Then, instinct kicked in, and his body softened and went with the hands on his shoulders rather than completely blowing past them. 

He couldn't help the shudder that went through him as his body tried to dispel the adrenaline suddenly coursing through its system. While his heart slowed, he shot Kuboyasu a glare. 

He'd been glaring at him a lot recently, huh? 

Kuboyasu lifted his hands and splayed them in a placating manner. “Sorry, sorry, homie. Didn't mean to startle you or nothin'. But you looked kinda distressed? So-" he coughed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Ya know, just checking up, seeing how we're doing. And alla that. Yeah." 

With a small sigh, Kusuo decided to take pity and dropped the stormy stare. Sitting back at Aiura's desk, he finally began unpacking his things and getting ready for class. Kuboyasu blinked at him. "You're sitting here for the day?" 

No, he was just putting all his school stuff here for fun. He'd be using his own. He gave Kuboyasu his best' use your critical thinking skills' face. It was a work in progress for his dad. Evidently, it worked very well on Kuboyasu because Kusuo received a sheepish smile. "Yeah, okay, that was a little stupid," his expression suddenly shifted, looking half nervous, half suspicious. "You- uh, moved here because...?"

Good grief. Kusuo could pull the 'it's none of your business card' because it wasn't, and Kuboyasu would be tactful enough to back off, at least for a little bit. But Kuboyasu's predictions of his future stabbing had just died down, and Kusuo could see them already trying to wriggle their way up again. So really, he had an excuse. Even if it was a pretty poor one. He functioned on excuses, okay? It was the only reason he hadn't yet gone insane.

He took a breath and began to speak. "Do…" 

Hng, this really sucked. He forced himself to look at Kuboyasu's face. He was giving Kusuo his full attention, his eyes wide and curious. Kusuo wondered if he realized how harmless and puppy-like the expression made him look. 

Come on, Kusuo. Stop being a big baby and just suck it up. It's just some dumb boy!

"Take me to a cafe."

FUCK. Go back to being a big baby. Kusuo was right to be a coward and want to bail. Why, oh why, was he so bad at this? 

He swore he saw Aiura drop her head in her hands. Kusuo felt the same. He'd already established that he wasn't a brat who expected to always get his way, and then he went off and made an unreliable narrator of himself. He could cry. He could shed actual tears right now. 

Kuboyasu raised an eyebrow, anxiety rapidly turning into an odd excitement. Oh?

"Oho, demanding, aren't we?" He gave Kusuo that stupid ass grin that kept making his heart pound in his ears. Then, his voice lowered, and he leaned in slightly, looming over Kusuo. He strained to hear the other under the sound of the classroom chatter. "After my wallet now, sweetheart ?" 

Oh wow. 

Kusuo refused to blush or do anything humiliating, though. Two could play that game, bastard. "Small price to be with me , though, no?" Fuck it, he decided to lean in, too. He peeked at Kuboyasu from under his lashes, the same look that had kept popping in Kuboyasu's head for a week now. Kusuo pouted, actually meaning to for once. "And here I thought you liked me." 

Kuboyasu sucked in a breath, and pride sparked in Kusuo's chest. Then he sputtered and began choking, to Kusuo's immediate horror. People started looking over, so he stuck his placid mask back on and stared apathetically as Kuboyasu desperately beat his chest, trying to stop coughing. 

" You son of a - oh, Aren, are you okay?" Kaido asked as he and Nendo finally made it to class, somehow last even though they had both a headstart and Nendo's unusual stride. From the sound of Mr. Matsuzaki yelling down the hall, the chuunibyou had been freed with the teacher's intervention. Kusuo couldn't help the way his jaw clenched as Kaido rushed over, putting a gentle hand on Kuboyasu's shoulder and checking on him with a soft voice. 

Kusuo could have done that. Jerk.

"YeAH," Kuboyasu gave one last cough, clearing his throat loudly. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good, Shun. Saiki just wanted to go out to a cafe." 

The instant regret on Kuboyasu's face as the last sentence slipped out was kinda funny. Even more amusing was his attempt to hide it by slapping a smile on his face. It was so funny, in fact, that he didn't even try to beat the shit out of Kuboyasu right after he completely exposed Kusuo's attempt at inviting him — and only him — out. Wow, Kusuo sure knew how to pick them, huh? Mildly amusing and able to satiate some of Kusuo's deeply repressed blood lust! It almost made up for his being a complete and utter idiot! 

"Saiki wants to hang out?" The sparkles in this kid's eyes hurt Kusuo's own. He squinted against the sudden assault of pure, unadulterated joy and scowled. 

No, Saiki did not want to hang out. What Saiki wanted was to go home. Saiki wanted to try and build up his emotional walls once more so something like this never happened again. Because this? Was just plain, good old-fashioned terrible. 

Hooray.

He was prepared to absolutely demolish Kaido's dreams and bury the remains. He really was. But then the boy turned to fully look at Kusuo, and he just… seemed so happy to be invited to go out with someone who didn't actually care about him. 

Because he didn't care. He couldn't. He'd seen how it turned out. 

Except that one had found him again, hadn't he? 

...Maybe he wasn't a good person. But, he could pretend for a bit. For Kaido. 

He gave the chuunibyou a brief nod and fought back a smile at the resulting elated fist pump. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kuboyasu's shaky smile turn into something softer and real. Oddly enough, the spark of something the expression lit in him also made him feel hollow. 

He couldn't do the same for Kuboyasu. It wasn't fair to pretend, not with his heart on the line. The boy was serious about love. Kusuo wasn't that cold-hearted.

'Sorry honey, you'll get 'em next time, totes!' Aiura thought towards him. Resentment boiled in him for a split second before it all seeped out just as quickly. Of course, he could blame her for trying to make this work, but at the end of the day, it was really his fault for being so immature, huh? It's not like he didn't want it after all.

The bell rang. Everyone shuffled to their seats, and Kuboyasu sat down, front and diagonal to Kusuo. He fought to keep his eyes off Kuboyasu's arms and back as the former punk rested his elbows on the desk. 

Good grief. He felt awful. This was gonna be a long day, huh?

Kaido, lollygagging near Kusuo's (Aiura's) desk, gave him a weird look. "Saiki, why are you sitting here?"

Good fucking grief, he needed some caffeine.

Now, normally being invited out to a cafe was a peaceful gesture. 

Of course, this was Saiki Kusuo they were talking about, a known recluse with the dourest demeanor he'd ever seen on a person. So really, this could all be an elaborate setup to complete his master plan to stab Aren. Maybe he'd drug Saiki out one too many times, or he'd seen too much last week, Aren speculated as he sat down to eat. Truthfully, he should have said no if he valued his life in any capacity. 

But- 

The kid had looked at him, blinked up at him from under his lashes, and acted like he was doing Aren a favor by offering to hang out. Based on the pretty pout he'd been given, Saiki knew exactly what he was doing. The little minx.

Crazy, though, man. He shook his head to himself. If someone had talked to him like at his old school? The guy wouldn't be talkin' for a good while, guaranteed. 

Nah, that wasn't it. Aren would still pummel someone into the ground for tossing out orders like that. When Kusuo did it, though, it was different. The kid wasn't a poser trying to engage in a pissing contest. Instead, to Aren's resounding surprise, the vibe he got off this kid? 

Kusuo was a spoilt princess. Plain and simple. Wasn't trying to be the top dog or nothin'. Why would he? He already had those people fussing over him. Aren, despite his (very) mild shame, counted himself in those ranks. 

And there were others too. Granted, they were people who wouldn't have been the head of anything in the gang world. But in the normie world? Things worked differently. Teruhashi, for example, had probably never lifted a finger to defend herself. Yet, at the tiniest sign of distress, she had an entire army fighting over who got the first hit in. 

It didn't take Aren long to realize that there was just as much, if not more, fighting going down in his new life. And after he got over the initial heart-stopping shock of being in her presence, he realized that Teruhashi was the most adept at it. This was her school, and a single, certain boy had been placed under her protection. 

"Hey boys, do you mind if we sit here?" The queen herself asked. The 'we' in question was her and Yumehara, who had locked on Shun the moment she got within 10 feet of him. Aren fought back a shiver. He knew some gangs that would love to have a chick with her tracking skills in their ranks. 

""Oh wow!"" Nendo and Shun called out, dazzled by her natural luminescence. Aren couldn't help the pleased sigh that escaped him. Something was niggling at him, telling him that being in her radius was dangerous. But how could it be? Teruhashi was just so beautiful and kind. Nothing bad could possibly happen around her. 

Something slammed down next to him. Aren jumped, suddenly snapped out of his trance, and whipped around. 

…It was just Saiki. He'd set down his cup rather forcefully and was giving Teruhashi, the hottest girl Aren had ever seen, his usual unaffected, blank stare. Somehow, though, Saiki successfully gave off a general vibe of irritation without really changing anything. 

Aren shook his head as the other two rushed to welcome the pair. This kid really was insane. It had taken him a good while, but he got it now: Teruhashi was crushing on the adorable sweets fiend next to him. And by the looks of it, the boy wanted nothing to do with her. 

Maybe he wasn't into chicks? Or not into anybody at all? The latter thought made something in him droop disappointedly.

He gritted his teeth. What the hell, man? It wasn't Aren's place to be throwing shade about which way his homie swung. Even if he didn't at all. It's not like Saiki's interests affected him, anyways. 

Aren watched as Saiki wrapped long, elegant fingers around his drink and brought it back to his lips, staring at the newcomers with a not-quite glare. His mouth was very pink, and also very shiny. Aren swallowed. 

It didn't affect him.

Right?

"So, how have your days been?" Teruhashi questioned. Damn. Even small talk from this girl seemed like the most interesting thing of the century. 

Saiki shot him a look so disgusted that Aren almost felt his eyelashes curl from the repulsed heat of it. Aren jolted as he registered it, but not even a second later, Saiki was opening up his packet of jelly, albeit a tad bit aggressively. Said jelly was, sadly, not coffee flavored.

That was okay, though, because Aren had only been half-joking earlier about Saiki being after his money. He had been planning to buy Saiki something anyway. Even if the kid just wanted free sweets, Aren couldn't find it in himself to care. If it got him another of those honey-glazed looks, then-

...Fellas, was it gay to want one of your homeboys to make doe eyes at you after you buy them something for the sole purpose of receiving said look? Wait, actually, he didn't want to have this crisis right now. 

Putting that aside, as of now, Aren planned to buy Saiki two coffee jellies, with one acting as an apology for his big mouth. The thing was, he fucking adored Shun, okay? Once you took about five seconds to look past the whole 'Jet Black Wings' shtick, it was easy to see that he was genuinely caring and rather emotionally intelligent. And the fantasy thing, while Aren was pretty sure that it had once been a form of escape for the kid, eased up a lot when you got to know him better. And then it got more fun to mess around and play pretend with. It was something Aren had never gotten to do as a kid, and Shun was often the one giving him those experiences. 

So yeah. That was his homeboy. But Aren wasn't the only one who liked Shun. Saiki showed it weirdly, but he had a huge ass soft spot for the little guy. It was why he'd folded so quickly when Shun had asked if they were going to hang out. Even though he wouldn't admit it on pain of death, Saiki adored him. 

But, Saiki also hadn't asked Shun to go out. He'd asked Aren. Technically, he hadn't done anything wrong by blabbering to Shun about their potential plans. But, the way Aren was thinking about it, it was like bringing someone new to meet a stray cat you'd befriended; it didn't matter how friendly he'd been just the other day. There was a new variable, so you're back on square one with the cat until he's comfortable again. 

And, Aren thought as he chanced a glance over at Saiki, it could take a lot of coaxing to make a nervous stray trust you again.

When Aren tuned back into the conversation around him, he was met with Teruhashi staring him dead in the eye. He fought to keep himself from being submerged in her spell and tried to focus on the words being said. 

"Kuboyasu?" She tilted her head, sapphire blue eyes big and imploring. "Are you alright? You seem a little distracted."

Oh hell. Aren kept himself from rubbing the back of his neck, but just barely. "Yeah, I'm good. Just a lil' off from staring at my notes all day, ya know how it is."

Teruhashi giggled. It sounded like church bells ringing or some other religious metaphor. "Of course! I try my best to study often, so I definitely understand dealing with side effects." 

"Oh, you're sick, new kid?" Nendo asked, finally done gaping at Teruhashi. "You're still going to that cafe with partner, chibi, and I right? Right?"

Oh no. 

Yumehara gasped. "Kaido, you're going to a cafe? And you didn't invite me?" 

Shun tilted his head. Oh, buddy. Aren felt a little like laughing and maybe punching Nendo. 

"Chiyo, come on, they don't have to invite us. It's alright." Teruhashi swept in. There was an odd something on her face, centered on Nendo and Kaido. It reminded him of Saiki this morning; she was expecting something.

"Oh, I-I mean, you guys can," Shun shrugged, looking nervously excited. "It would be cool, if you did. But, Saiki, are you okay with it?" He leaned over to look at Saiki, who had dug his spoon into his jelly and was now just kind of playing with it morosely. 

Saik looked up at the two girls in front of him. Then, after a brief moment, he dropped his gaze back down to the desert and dipped his head in brief agreement. 

"Oh, in that case, we'd love to hang out with you guys!" Teruhashi beamed, her radiance seeming to shine even brighter. Everyone else seemed to think so, too, because a sudden chorus of gasps rang through the cafeteria, including from Nendo and Kaido.  

Aren would have been included in those numbers had he not been busy trying to analyze his silent friend. The sounds echoing around the room made Saiki's shoulders hunch ever so slightly like he was trying to curl up into himself. And the way his eyes tightened with tightly leashed stress and frustration didn't just tug on Aren's heartstrings; it tied them into a fucking knot. 

Jeez, this poor kid.

Saiki suddenly snapped up his head, giving Aren a look that further stamped his heart into the ground before scooping up his things. 

"Saiki?" "Partner?" 

"Bathroom." Saiki answered, the first word he'd spoken since he completely threw Aren for a loop. Then, not waiting for an answer, he slunk out of the room, somehow disappearing easily into the crowd. 

Sorry, did he say two coffee jellies? He meant three. He'd be buying Saiki three, because damn, this poor kid.

Chapter Text

By the end of the day, Kusuo’s exhaustion had seeped down to his marrow, now pressing heavily on his chest. Even just walking to the damn cafe was hell. His strange sensitivity made each step a drudging chore, made every voice around him feel like a spike piercing his brain. 

He wanted to shut his eyes, cover his ears, do something to soothe the ache racking through his entire body. Rationally though, he knew how little it would help. A good portion of the stress came from the rattle of others’ thoughts, and even from the onslaught of color assaulting his eyes. 

But, you know, maybe the crowd of people that had decided to invite themselves to catch a glimpse of Teruhashi wasn’t helping very much. 

He couldn’t give in to any of his urges, though. No matter how much he wanted to clamp his hands over his ears or eyes or curl up and rock back and forth, he refused to give in. Because then the leeches caging him in would become worried. They’d start to fuss, asking him questions and trying to touch him. 

Kusuo honestly didn’t know how he’d react, with him so overwhelmed. Everything hurt, and so everything was a potential threat. 

So he sucked it up as best he could, trying to keep his expression neutral so he didn’t expose his current state. But, of course, one particular nuisance was more observant than most. Kuboyasu was a sharp and perceptive jerk and kept shooting him concerned glances on the sly. If Kusuo thought about it for more than 10 seconds, the concern was sweet and made him feel oddly shy. But, because he wasn’t in the mood to think, he focused solely on the urge to punch something. Maybe a certain former punk.

That wouldn’t do, though, because Kusuo didn’t use his hands to hit people. He was a good boy, and his mom would be disappointed if he knocked somebody’s head off without fixing it. So, the only option he had left was to ignore Kuboyasu’s worried eyes and keep trudging forward. 

Deciding to take matters into his own hand, Kusuo adjusted his heart rate to match the tempo of his steps. A bit of the tension unwinded as he began to focus on the pattern, so he started counting his breaths too. 

Everything would be okay. He would be okay. Kusuo was always okay. There wasn’t any actual danger, not now. He just had to get through this, stay just long enough to be socially acceptable, and then he could bail. 

“Oi, partner!” Nendo called out, slapping a hand on his shoulder. His progress towards self-soothing unraveled almost comically quickly. He tried not to rip off the offending hand, but the touch was so unwelcome it seemed to burn at the point of contact.

He hated this. He hated this. He hated this. 

Good grief, he needed to be in his room. His room was safe and predictable, and everything was muted and familiar and didn’t hurt his head. There were only two points of entry to his room, the window and the door, and his bed allowed him to fully see both. It was nothing like this, where there were too many colors and sounds assaulting his senses, where there were too many bodies to be alert against. 

But it was fine because Kusuo was impervious to it all. He just needed to get through this. 

(There were so many people staring. Because, of course, Teruhashi decides she wants to go out with them too. And she gets whatever she wants, always, always, always-)

Kusuo squeezed the strap of his bag until his knuckles turned white. He could clutch his bag to his heart’s content. As long as he didn’t pull, it wouldn’t snap. 

Kusuo had gotten good at figuring out ways to navigate the world, especially considering that every move he made could potentially end it.

At least they were going to Cafe Mami. The little cafe was familiar, which would soothe at least a bit of the anxiety flaring under his skin. 

…But the fact that they were going to Cafe Mami was also a bit upsetting because it felt like his place, and this group of his was stampeding over that sanctuary willy-nilly. Which was silly because it was not only open to the public, but most of his self-imposed friends were quite aware that he frequented there. 

(Maybe it was because he got to come here and indulge so rarely, so coming here was his treat to himself. Maybe, maybe, maybe.)

Their group finally made it to the cafe, and after some bickering, Kuboyasu won the right to hold the door open. Kusuo trailed behind as everyone filtered in, trying to convince himself to follow. 

Kusuo huffed sardonically. He was the one who had even broached the subject of coming here in the first place. He could think of this as punishment even, to ensure he never tried something so stupid again. 

It wasn’t his place to ask for more, or even to want more. He wasn’t sure when he’d forgotten that. Maybe it had weakened without Kusuke at home to remind him hourly. The thing that had finally snapped that resolve had to have been these pushy idiots nipping at his heels day after day. 

Jerks.

“Saiki?” Kuboyasu rumbled out. He’d lowered his voice into something heavy and graveled, and Kusuo was horribly embarrassed to admit it easily caught his attention. It soothed the strain in his head and eased some of the tension thrumming through his body, which was an admittedly welcome change from the somehow painful stimuli from earlier. Kusuo blinked up at him in curiosity.

Kuboyasu cocked his head and continued, “Everything alright, homie?”

If by ‘alright,’ he meant ‘close to tears and/or violence,’ then yeah, Kusuo was alright. 

He nodded in affirmation. The punk’s brows furrowed slightly in response. His attentive blue eyes, sharp and observant, were fixed entirely on Kusuo’s face. 

He resisted the urge to fidget.

Was this how those who knew about his powers felt when he stared at them?

It had to be, because Kusuo felt uncomfortably exposed at that moment. It felt like Kuboyasu could see right down to his core and was trying to piece together what he saw.

Would Kusuo be found wanting, if Kuboyasu knew what he really was?

Even without reading his mind, Kusuo knew that the punk didn’t believe him. That was fine, though. Kusuo didn’t need to be believed; he needed to be left alone, which would be much easier if certain, presumptuous people cared less. He stared right back at Kuboyasu, refusing to let any of his trepidation show on his face. 

It took a bit, but Kuboyasu gave in first, dropping his gaze with a sigh. “Sure. Okay. Just…let me know, bro.”

Sure, will do.

Kusuo was finally about to walk in-

-when a hand latched onto the other side of the doorframe. Kuboyasu’s arm blocked the way, the boy once again using his height advantage to loom over Kusuo. He gave a shark grin, something dangerous and private, entirely for Kusuo alone. 

Kusuo’s breath audibly hitched as the other leaned in, similar to this morning. Only this didn’t feel like lighthearted teasing. He was sure Kuboyasu had heard the way he’d gasped because the guy let out a dark chuckle after. 

The punk was close enough for Kusuo to see the way his throat moved when he swallowed. His stomach jolted as Kuboyasu began to speak. “I’m not playin’, Saiki. You’ll let me know if you need anything, got that?” 

He was using his delinquent voice, like that would somehow sway Kusuo into listening.

...Still, it was easier to just agree. Heart pounding and stomach fluttering, he nodded once more.

“Hm,” Kuboyasu gave him a once over, eyebrow raised as he gauged the honesty of Kusuo’s response. 

“Alright, then,” he conceded, finally drawing back. He continued giving Kusuo that soul-piercing stare, and he tossed out one final order. “Grab a menu, doll. I’m payin’ for ya.”

Alright. Sure, yeah, that was reasonable. Yeah, he was good, okay, sure. Yup, Kusuo would be doing just that right now, actually. He was just an ordinary, hapless boy who had been pinned in by a muscled, terrifying former punk who was now forcing free sweets on him. 

Good grief, this was just like Yumehara’s fanfictions. This day would probably end with Kusuo being carried bridal-style off into the sunset, where a priest would be waiting to officiate their wedding. 

You know, if he didn’t have a panic attack first. He wasn’t holding his breath, though.

The others had chosen a booth near the center of the cafe. Kusuo tried not to frown too visibly at the sight. They were too exposed to cameras, which would have been okay if they had sacrificed that hiding spot for easy access to an exit. But, of course, they hadn’t. Instead, they had just picked a place where they would have neither. 

It was…fine. There were too many of Teruhashi’s admirers for it to matter anyways. He shuffled over to sit at the end, next to Nendo. And he’d be exposed to the aisle, ugh…

It was fine. This was all fine. It really was. He just had to get through this one outing. Then he could leave and be alone and safe in his bed. 

Directly across from him, Teruhashi gave him a dazzlingly sweet smile. Kusuo tried not to tuck his knees into his chest under the weight of everybody’s resulting glares. 

Good GRIEF, Kusuo was just so fine! Everything was a-okay! He was so ordinary and could handle being out and exposed in front of so many chattering people because that’s what normal people could do. And Kusuo could do anything a regular human could do ten times better. 

Kuboyasu strolled over and glanced over their seating arrangements. Yumerhara had somehow successfully gotten Kaido to sit with her, and she was between him and Teruhashi. Kusuo was, of course, sitting next to Nendo. And that meant-

“Hope you don’t mind me sitting with you homie.” Kuboyasu smiled again, but it looked softer this time. Less like he was going to tear Kusuo to pieces with just his teeth and more like he genuinely enjoyed the prospect of getting to sit with him. He slid in, tossing an arm around the back of the booth, behind Kusuo.

He tried not to let his enjoyment of the gesture show on his face, choosing instead to lean away pointedly. Kuboyasu just laughed at the gesture, so Kusuo gave him an eye roll before pouring over the menu. 

He couldn’t encourage Kuboyasu’s attraction. It wasn’t right. 

But he was pretty glad the punk was sitting next to him.

Kusuo was safer like this. Kuboyasu was in front of the aisle now, and Nendo was guarding the window. So if someone were to try anything, those two could help Kusuo fight them off. 

Not that Kusuo needed protection. Or even wanted it. But, you know, ordinary people needed it. And Kusuo was very good at pretending to be normal, so, of course, he could pretend to want this too.

“What’s everybody going to order?” Teruhashi asked. She was peeking at a menu Yumehara was holding, who was pointedly telling Kaido what she wanted to order. Of course, the chuunibyou was about as dull as a hammer when it came to romance, so he just smiled in response, blissfully unaware. 

Kuboyasu chuckled. The sound made Kusuo’s stomach flip. “Well, I’m paying for Mr. Grumpy over here, so I hope it’s somethin’ within budget,” he turned to look down at Kusuo, tone teasing. “Not that it’ll affect you, ‘course. You’re getting whatever you want. But I was hoping to get a few things for myself, too.”

Teruhashi, much to Kusuo’s reemerging irritation, saw her opportunity and lunged. “Oh, Kuboyasu, if you need, I don’t mind covering his order.” She tilted her head sweetly, batting her deep blue lashes. 

Kusuo tried not to glare or scowl or any of the above, but it was definitely a close shave. He would not give in and gasp over Teruhashi. He flat-out refused. Her stupid games made him feel sick and trapped, like he was playing with his brother. He hated being hunted, he hated being something to conquer, and he hated being stared at with jealousy and contempt. 

After she gave her offer, Kusuo gave Kuboyasu a quick glance.

Now, he wasn’t too keen on the whole ‘hoping’ thing, because oftentimes, he would simply end up disappointed. Because that’s how people were. 

But, Kuboyasu wasn’t just 'people.’ He had shown impressive developing resistance to Teruhashi’s powerful charms. So, maybe…maybe he wouldn’t give in?

His sweets just tasted better when Kuboyasu bought them. That was all. 

Kuboyasu blinked the stars out of his eyes, seemingly dazed, before he smiled again. “Thanks, but I wouldn’t dream of making you pay. ’S not right, y’know?” 

Teruhashi’s aura flickered in shock for a split second before it returned. “It’s really no problem.” She pushed, glow brightening further.

Taking note of the hesitance blooming in his mind, Kusuo kicked Kuboyasu under the table. The guy jumped slightly, seemingly snapping out of Teruhashi’s spell once more. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck with a slight blush. Kusuo finally gave in and scowled. 

Towards Teruhashi, of course.

“It’s real sweet of you to offer,” Kuboyasu rebuffed gently. “But I got a duty. I promised I’d buy some treats for Saiki if he came out, and real men don’t cheat on their word.” 

Teruhashi finally seemed to take note of the casual arm slung behind Kusuo. Her eyes widened the tiniest bit, and Kusuo tried not to wince as connections began forming in her head. 

Damnit. Kusuo let his eyes slip shut. 

She really was too observant for her own good, huh?

And she was as skillful as ever. Teruhashi didn’t even miss a beat, replying with a cheery, “Okay then, just let me know,” as if she wasn’t already forming schemes to get Kuboyasu away from Kusuo and into her own arms. 

Kusuo had won the battle, but judging by the determination blooming alongside the sparkles in her eyes, he was about to lose the war.   

Fine. There wasn’t anything he could do about it now. Kusuo would just have to be extra vigilant and keep an eye out for her future plans. 

He picked at the edge of his glove under the table, unwilling to let Kuboyasu see and potentially nag him about his fidgeting. He wasn’t doing it because he was stressed or anything. It just felt nice, okay? 

Taking Kuboyasu’s earlier teasing into account, though, Kusuo should take advantage and definitely order the most pricey thing on the menu. That would scare the guy off, right? He could make the punk think Kusuo was too high maintenance and give up on him. It wasn’t like it wasn’t true, after all. It was just...in a different way, that was all.

“I wanna order ramen! What about you, buddy?” Nendo nudged Kusuo, and Kusuo did his best not to tear off the brute’s arm. 

Sorry, he was usually more passive-aggressive than violent. But the touch clawed at his senses and the noise seemed to screech and all of the stupid stares felt like pinpricks, so he thought he could be excused for being a bit fussy.

“Nendo, they don’t serve that here!” Kaido hissed. Yumehara huffed as his attention slipped away, and Teruhashi smiled and patted her sympathetically. 

“What? Why not? It’d sell crazy good,” Nendo hummed, looking up blankly at the ceiling in wonder. Then, he suddenly looked back down at Kusuo and Kuboyasu. “Hey, are we ordering or somethin'?”

Teruhashi giggled. “Oh! Yes, we should, shouldn’t we?” She glanced around, pretending to not notice the exaggerated presence of the Kokomins. “Should we call a server over? I don’t want to be rude, but it’s been a bit, hasn’t it?”

That would be because all of the workers had been arguing about who got to talk to her. And upon hearing her words, they only got louder. 

Good grief. Everyone was just so-

The Kokomins jumped in, some offering to take her order in place of the actual workers. They were getting closer to the table, and Kusuo’s shoulders just tightened in response. 

It’s so-

And Nendo and Kaido had just gone back to arguing, and it was too loud, it was too much, and people were too close and Kusuo wasn’t safe, he was trapped, and everything just hurt. 

Everyone always looked at Kusuo with seething jealousy in their eyes, even his own father and brother. Especially them. 

“Saiki?” Kuboyasu murmured, eyebrows pinching in worry. “What’s up, homie?”

Was it any wonder he’d fallen so hard for someone who looked at Kusuo with such affection?

Because he had, of course. Kusuo’s weak attempt at denials held little to no meaning, just as they always did. Only this time, his refutations weren’t being ignored or steamrolled over by other people. 

No. This time, it was his own fault. How childish. 

He…

He couldn’t fucking do this. 

Finally, his emotions suddenly snuffed out, letting him think clearly. It was a relief. This was how Kusuo preferred to be, with everything gray and distant. 

“Restroom.” He deadpanned to Kuboyasu, motioning to the boy to move.

It would be okay. Kusuo would be fine. He just needed a minute alone, away from all of these annoyances. 

He would be fine.

“Oh- yeah, okay,” Kuboyasu stood up, letting Kusuo out of the booth. “Hey, hold on. What do you need-”

Kusuo clicked his tongue, sending the punk the most irritated face he could muster at the moment, letting him know just how welcome his meddling was.

Kusuo was fucking fine, okay? Just because Kuboyasu felt pity towards the freak didn’t mean he had to act on those emotions. It wasn’t welcome. He would just ruin the control Kusuo had barely managed to wrangle over himself. 

He turned to leave so he wouldn’t have to look at the blooming hurt in Kuboyasu’s eyes, striding past the forming crowd and making a break to the bathroom, the one place he could actually be alone.

He would be fine, of course, because Kusuo was always fine. He was unfeeling and inhumane, so far removed from the actions of real people that it was impossible for them to ever affect him. 

He flicked the lock to the bathroom closed and moved to stand in front of the mirror. 

Kusuo was fine. It was fine. Fine. Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine.

He watched, feeling oddly detached and lightheaded, as his reflection began to tremble. 

Oof. 

So, Aren was feeling just a little bit miffed, to put it lightly. 

And yeah, his neck was sore from all the whiplash. 

One moment he was cheering internally over the way Saiki had totally loosened up when Aren had sat next to him. Then he was kicking himself (and being actually kicked) over almost falling prey to Teruhashi’s charms. 

Now he was trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. And, trying to work through the anger currently fighting to overtake his mind. 

Because as much as Aren’s hindbrain was puffing up in offense, he was capable of critical thought. He had to be; back with the Espers, the lives of his boys hinged on him not being a dumbass. 

Because they had put their trust in him, which was a gift Aren sought to protect. And even if he hadn’t said it outright, Saiki had given him his trust. To interact with the boy, the real him, the genuine, caring grump under the blank façade, Aren had to whip out the full extent of his observational arsenal. 

But it was worth it. Because he wanted to decode this puzzle of a guy. Because the kid trusted him, and Aren would always try to do right by his boys. And that also meant he would be patient and understanding, even when Saiki clawed and snapped.

Especially when he did. 

On top of that, the memory of the empty void of Saiki’s lidded eyes was pretty damn effective at extinguishing any festering rage, even after the guy had essentially told him to fuck off with a single look. 

Thankfully, most everyone was preoccupied with wooing Teruhashi. Not only that, but their own table was as chaotic as ever, so it was child’s play for Aren to slip away, even if he’d never exactly been known for his stealth.

When he tried the bathroom door, it was, to everybody’s absolute and utter shock, locked. He resisted the urge to simply rip the handle off, instead taking a cooling breath and trying to gather his bearings. 

Goody-goodies dealt with delicate situations constantly. Of course, he had to as a punk, too. He didn’t fuck around when it came to the well-being of his gang, and sometimes that meant having to wade through emotional and mental issues. And there was a lot. Real thugs, not some damn posers, didn’t just wake up one day and decide to go rogue.

But, outbursts of his new homies seemed more volatile than the ones he’d guided his old ones through. Aren suspected it had something to do with their proclivity towards repressing the shit out of their feelings, but he’d yet to figure out whether that was a universal normie thing or not. 

He’d seen some shit and been through some shit himself, and maybe that was why he had such hare-trigger anger. But the reason behind it didn’t matter right now. He could not, under any circumstances, screw this up. Because Saiki, for all of his sturdiness, was also very skittish. 

Another one of those contradictions that intrigued Aren so much. 

So, he broke neither the door nor the handle and instead rapped his knuckles on the wood. 

“Saiki?” he called out, trying not to yell accidently, lest he summon the others. Thankfully, if he did, it would blend in well at the moment.

Aren strained his ears, trying to catch any sound he could under the ruckus of the crowd. He swore he heard ragged breathing beyond the door, but it was hard to tell whether his anxiety was messing with him or not.

He knocked again. “Saiki.” 

There was some shuffling and murmuring. Aren couldn’t pick out any words.

Should he keep pressing? He honestly didn’t know Saiki that well, and definitely not enough to want to barge into the guy’s personal problems. 

Maybe Aren should take the hint and piss off?

He stood there for a moment, debating whether or not to join the slowly diminishing crowd, when he heard a soft click. 

His heart leaped. For Saiki, that was pretty much a cry for help. 

Aren pushed open the door. Stepping into the bathroom, he was greeted with a Saiki standing in front of the sink, bordering on hyperventilation. His body shook, palms clenched so tightly over his ears he could see his fingers digging into his skull. 

Ah. Wow. Okay.

This was not what he entirely expected. Saiki wasn’t usually so…expressive. But, Aren could work with this. He knew how to help. 

Flicking the lock again to ensure their privacy, he slowly made his way over to the boy, ensuring his footsteps were loud enough to hear. Saiki whipped around, hands still clamped around his ears, and gave him a wide-eyed look like he was shocked Aren was in there. His chest kept jumping, the movement jerky and looking painful. The image inexplicably called to mind a wounded rabbit, whose instinct to survive hadn’t been worn down just yet.

Sharply contrasting that, the sink in front of Saiki was cracked, each one stemming from the finger-shaped craters in the marble. The detail caught the attention of at least one part of his brain, but that wasn’t nearly as important as calming down the kid in front of him. 

He raised his hands carefully, splaying them in a placating manner. “Hey, ’s just me,” he tried, lowering his voice into the timbre he saved for guiding people through breathing. He’d been told it was helpful. Hopefully, Saiki would think so too. “You know where you are?”

Saiki continued to stare. Aren was about to start worrying that he hadn’t heard his words, when he received a nod. 

It wasn’t verbal, and it was stiff and slow, but it was a response. That boded well. 

“That’s good. You’re okay, I ain’t gonna let anything happen to you,” he smiled as best he could. Saiki was still watching him, expression almost wary. But the tension in his body had unraveled ever so slightly, so Aren gingerly took a few steps closer. “C’mon, do you wanna sit down?” 

Saiki seemed to struggle to process for a moment, his eyes glazed and distant. But eventually, Aren’s words seemed to click, and he glanced down at the floor. 

He slowly began shifting to sit down. Aren followed right behind him, making sure he wouldn’t stumble. 

Once on the floor, the boy clutched his knees to his chest, ducking his head between them to continue fighting for breath. The sound made Aren’s chest ache in sympathy. 

Saiki could, despite his physical height, be immense in his presence. Granted, most of the time, he wasn’t. He had a knack for blending in. Hell, he practically disappeared from time to time. 

Other times, though, it was different. Sometimes the way he carried himself made Aren snap to attention. Not out of fear, but out of respect for the being that had suddenly awoken. 

Despite his original misconceptions, Aren knew when someone was the real deal. To see someone so sturdy and above it all, curled up and tiny on the floor? And one of his friends at that? 

That shit was heartbreaking. No joke.  

He crouched down next to him, keeping his voice low. “Here, sweet thing,” he murmured, the endearment slipping out without his thinking. “Breathe with me. C’mon, you can do it, just like that.” 

He exaggerated his own breathing, taking slow and deep breaths. His arms ached to hold and stroke and comfort, but he kept them stubbornly at his side. Even though Aren himself tended to be real physically affectionate, he knew Saiki was the opposite. The guy always looked ready to tear off any unwanted, presumptuous hands, and just because Aren had been getting a pass lately didn’t mean now was the time to abuse it. 

After what seemed like a long while, Saiki began to mimic him, his chest starting to rise and fall at a more reasonable pace. His shoulders still jumped occasionally, echoes of his earlier almost-tears, but his hands had relaxed from their former death grip on his ears and hair.

Ever so slowly, he began to uncurl from his protective posture. Then, after a moment, he peeked up at Aren through his bangs with red and miserable eyes. 

Aren tried for a smile again, hoping it didn’t look as despondent as he felt. “Hey, Saiki. You with me?”

Saiki’s pale and aching visage continued to just absolutely wreck Aren’s heart. Still, the boy gave a slight nod, and Aren let out a sigh of relief. Saiki may not be talking, but he wasn’t much of one to begin with. 

He’d done it. Aren had helped. 

“Okay, you’re doing great, doll. Lemme take you home, okay?”

Aren pushed himself up and held out a hand for Saiki to take. 

Saiki just kept staring. His eyes were no longer empty voids; now, there was an entire world unfolding in them. The sight was, despite the situation, almost fantastical in nature. It took Aren’s breath away, watching how the emotions bloomed and danced across his shaded eyes. There was a change happening, a choice being made in his boy’s head. 

This was important. This wasn’t just Saiki deciding to let Aren help him for a bit. That had happened when he’d unlocked the door. 

He could leave now, could thank Aren and go lick his wounds at his house, in private. They could never speak about this again, and Aren would let it happen because he knew how much Saiki valued the persona he projected.

Saiki could also let Aren walk him home, let him take care of him, let him in. He’d allowed Aren to see him like this, with his barriers crumbling apart like the wax of Icarus’s wings. It would be something different to permit him to watch as he built himself up again. Because this time, he’d have to mold the walls around Aren’s presence, instead of keeping him out.

The thought was desirous enough to make his heart pound. 

He hardly dared to breathe as Saiki finally, finally, reached up, placing a soft palm on Aren’s worn and calloused one. Saiki very gently slid his hand into Aren’s, like he was afraid he would hurt him. 

Despite the timidity of the grip, the hand was real and in his grasp, and Aren couldn’t help but clutch it in wonder-filled adoration. 

They needed to figure out a way to slip away without getting asked too many questions. They needed to navigate carefully so they wouldn’t attract any well-meaning tagalongs. Preferably, they would have to try and do this in a way to give Saiki as much privacy as possible, so he wouldn’t be reminded of this tomorrow. 

But that was for Aren to worry about and try and solve. Saiki didn’t need to do anything beyond preparing himself to step back out. 

Still holding the other’s hand(!), Aren coaxed him to the door, unlocking it and pushing it open. The bathrooms were tucked away into a hallway, so unless somebody came by, they wouldn’t be able to see him and Saiki. 

If Aren stayed close enough to the wall, though, he could see them. From what he could glean, the crowd had dispersed for the most part, which he was very thankful for. He could just barely see Shun and the girls beginning to throw glances in their direction. 

He peeked back at Saiki. The boy was staring up at the corner, looking dead-on at a security camera Aren had noted a bit ago. 

How to handle this? Saiki seemed calm enough for now, but Aren had to figure out what had set him off to make sure he could protect him from it.

A table nearby burst out laughing, and Saiki’s entire body tensed like a compressed spring. 

Fuck, was it the noise? 

Regretfully, that answer made sense. Saiki had already looked stressed out with their friends, who weren’t quite known for their cute little peace-filled outings. And Saiki was shy; a whole crowd of people, of strangers, descending and calling out, all focused entirely on their general vicinity? Forget it. That sounded irritating as hell to Aren, much less someone who had never invited any of their actual friends out before. 

Except him. And then he’d gone and exposed the kid.

He pushed down the sudden rush of guilt, instead refocusing on his distressed friend. “Hey, it’s okay,” Aren soothed, instinctually trying to shield Saiki from the threat with his bulk. “We can figure this out.”

Saiki’s jaw clenched. Now that the other was back in his right mind and able to think clearly, Aren could see a red blush beginning to dot his cheeks, eyes tight with embarrassment. 

And Aren understood. He really did.

Aren liked to be the one looking after his gang. He wanted to be the one protecting and comforting. He was pretty sure Saiki and he were the same in that regard, both of them placing the burden of protecting their friends on themselves. Aren had been on the other side of this situation before, when things just got overwhelming, and he lost it. 

It wasn’t the fact that Aren needed help. Everyone did from time to time, and even his macho bullshit had to cede to that fact. 

The humiliation came from not being in control of himself. It came from having such a big reaction to something that seemed so stupid because that meant Aren was stupid and emotional, and he needed to get a fucking grip. Because if he didn’t, who would be looking out for the others?

His old gang, those close enough to know him more as a friend than a leader, had done their best to hammer the fact that it wasn’t true into his thick skull. And it wasn’t. Especially not when talking about the silent, pink-haired enigma who’d placed his trust in him. 

Aren fucking refused to screw this up. 

“Want me to carry you?” He offered.

His heart was pounding, but he fought to remain chill and nonchalant. He couldn’t make a big deal out of this because that would scare Saiki off, which was a considerable impediment to all of his ‘get closer to Saiki’ goals. “I’ll tell the others you ain’t feeling so hot and that I’ll take you home,” he continued, firmly ignoring the other’s reaction. He just had to treat this as something both normal to suggest and okay to accept. 

At his offer, Saiki had turned even redder. He looked almost sick with embarrassment, mouth twisted into a displeased pucker and shoulders hunched around his ears. Aren kept himself relaxed and open, trying as best he could to show his lack of judgment for the other’s supposed weakness. 

There was a clanking of dishes, and Saiki’s other fist tightened. His lip quivered, and finally, he shut his eyes and huffed before stepping closer and tossing a semi-awkward arm around Aren’s neck. 

God, despite the frankly depressing circumstances, there was still something so precious about this. Saiki was very capable of preventing himself from being known. He could sneak up on Aren, for fuck’s sake. If Saiki didn’t want to be seen or heard, everybody would be getting exactly zilch from him. The fact that Aren was seeing Saiki so sick and tired and humiliated, and would even get to hold him?

It made his stomach flutter even as his heart continued cracking into thirds and fourths. 

Aren slid an arm under Saiki’s legs, wrapping the other around his shoulders and hoisting him up. Aren very carefully did not give into the strange urge to coo or nuzzle the boy’s hair in response to the soft surprised noise that escaped the other’s throat. Instead, he readjusted his grip to ensure that there was absolutely no chance whatsoever of Saiki falling. 

For his part, despite his obvious misery and humiliation, Saiki still took the comfort Aren was offering, tucking himself into Aren’s neck. He let out a shuddering breath, the one that came after the tears had dried, and squeezed his eyes shut. 

The occasional rise of noise still made the kid’s teeth grit, but like this, Saiki could cover his ears and keep his eyes closed to try and stave off the worst of it. 

Aren just clutched him tighter as he started to walk to their table. He would be taking care of Saiki for now, no questions asked.  

Chapter Text

The battles Aren was fighting these days were such a stark difference from those of his punk days; it gave him almost as much whiplash as Saiki’s attitude did. For instance, around this time of day, he’d probably be cracking some heads with his fists alone, with the taste of copper sizzling his lips and adrenaline tearing through him. 

Now, he was carrying his near-mute pretty boy crush like a damsel in distress while trying to figure out how to be polite about skedaddling, hopefully without any tag-a-longs. 

Time sure was fucky, wasn’t it?

Shun’s eyes, large and expressive, were centered entirely on the precious bundle in Aren’s arms. “Aren? What’s wrong with Saiki?”

Now, here’s the thing: Aren used to be a pretty shit liar. He’d had little to no practice with it. In his frank opinion, a real man rarely needed to lie. It would do him no good, not against the brutal honesty of black eyes and busted lips or the bold-faced truth of lost teeth and bleeding knuckles. 

But everything was different now. Lies surrounded his day-to-day life. The smaller, white lies of polite conversation or minding your own business were easy. Despite his reputation, Aren wasn’t entirely socially inept. 

No, it was the big ones, like hiding his history, that tripped him up. Life was harder now because a foe today could have been a friend yesterday. Because social circles kept themselves strong by booting the weakest link. Because preppy rich kids didn’t know how to fight, but damn did they know how to throw someone under the bus and toss their remains to the wolves. 

People could say whatever the hell they wanted about delinquents. Having lived in both worlds, Aren could say without a doubt that these people had more of a dog-eat-dog mentality than his boys ever did. 

Aren had been getting his practice in, especially with those outside of their rag-tag group. As shameful as it was, he’d learned to grin and bear it so he could survive here. 

Still, though. That didn’t mean that he could look straight into his little homie’s guileless eyes and bullshit him. 

So instead of looking at the kid in front of him, he looked at the one clutched in his arms. Saiki’s hands had gone back to his ears. He had also fully tucked his face in Aren’s collar, probably trying to hide from their friend’s searching looks.  

Curled into him like this, Aren could feel Saiki’s rabbiting heart against his chest. If he were more of a dreamer, he’d let himself imagine that his presence affected Kusuo the way his did Aren.

Alas, he relied too much on his senses to give them up to daydreaming. Realistically, Saiki was just anxious and stressed.

Aren allowed himself to rub small circles into the boy’s shoulder. Continuing to stare at Saiki so he wouldn’t have to look at Shun, he responded, “He isn’t feeling well. Think he’s got a migraine.”

“Oh no, that’s terrible!” Yumehara cried out. Aren tried to keep his face neutral as Saiki tightened his grip at the noise. People were looking, both from Teruhashi and the curious sight the two of them made. He would bet a large portion of them were from P.K., too. As bad as the attention already was, he didn’t want to make it worse for either of them. 

He just said Saiki had a migraine. Keep up and keep the voice down, bro. Aren didn’t wanna lose his cool, especially with someone he was on friendly terms with.

Nendo seemed confused, but he still shifted closer to them. “Oh, partner’s sick?” His voice was lowered. It suddenly reminded Aren that the big guy was really a gentle giant. 

Teruhashi tilted her head. It did little to distract Aren from the sweep of her eyes as she studied his stance and his expression. “That’s terrible,” she frowned sadly, her voice also quiet. “Should we take him home?”

Ohh, boy, here we go. It was time for his least favorite aspect of social etiquette: the sidestepping and parrying. Aren would have to try and shake his and Saiki’s potential tails without outright telling them to piss off. 

Ugh. The things he put up with to be a normal civilian. 

“No, it’s cool,” he reassured, smiling without his teeth to ensure it wouldn’t look like a snarl. “Ain’t any sense in all of us going, after all. You guys just stay and enjoy yourselves, ‘aight?”

“But I don’t wanna eat without partner…” Nendo complained sadly. His genuine disappointment sent a spike of pity through Aren’s chest. This guy was the exception to the whole lying aspect of being a goody-goody. He probably the most unabashedly honest person he’d ever met, thug or otherwise. 

But he wouldn’t be bested so easily! This one was easy to sidestep. “Aw, bud. It’s okay, Saiki will be able to eat with us soon.” 

Okay, so yeah, he wanted to comfort the big lug a little bit first, so sue him. 

“But he’ll get better faster if we let him rest, okay?”

Nendo nodded glumly. Then Shun piped up, “Shouldn’t we make sure he gets home okay?” His face was pinched with worry, and his fingers toyed with the ends of his bandages. 

“I got it handled, Shun. I need someone to walk the girls home, though,” he offered. 

Shun bit his lip, considering, but then gave a soft agreement. The sight made his smile more genuine. God, this kid really did care about Saiki, huh?

Saiki had a soft spot for him, too, Aren knew. 

“Kuboyasu?” 

Ah. Aren shifted his weight, needing to burn off some of the energy. Here was the final boss. If he could get her to stay, the rest would likely follow. 

He cleared his throat and responded, “What’s up, Teruhashi?”

Her sweet eyes were even more swaying than Shun’s. She pursed her lips softly, and her concern tightened her brows. “Are you sure we should stay? I don’t mind leaving, and I don’t think anyone else does, either.” 

Her lashes fluttered. Those sapphire strands sparkled in the light, and she tucked a bit of it back behind her ear, exposing her angelic face even more. Aren should have felt blessed to be receiving direct attention from this goddess. Her worry should have had him tripping over himself to invite her to make everything better with her presence alone. 

Everything about her, from her alluring eyes to her straight hair to her long lashes, called to mind the expanse of the sky and the sway of the sea: powerful and all-encompassing, a cool-toned beauty to be dreamed and sighed about. 

But, somehow, Aren had found himself more partial to pink lately. 

Pink, like a pair of full lips, pulled into a delicate, playful pout. Or maybe a rosy flush that colored soft, ivory skin. 

Or the fan of lashes framing those regal eyes. Darker even than his hot pink head of hair.  

Looking at Teruhashi now — now that she no longer took up his full attention when she came around, now that her slanted brows just reminded him of Saiki’s own on the bathroom floor…

She was just his friend. The most attractive girl he’d ever seen, absolutely. That was indisputable.

But she was also just a girl. An equal. His age and trying to make it through high school in one piece.

“I’m sure. I think any extra noise would just hurt him,” Aren reminded softly. “I’ll be taking care of him for today.”

Her expression didn’t shift, but Aren’s instincts told him he’d just proved certain notions of hers correct. She didn’t respond right away either, but that was fine because Aren really needed to take the opportunity showing itself and skedaddle. 

He tossed his head in an acknowledging gesture before blurting out quickly, “Alright then, see you all tomorrow!” 

He let himself sigh in relief as he turned on his heel and sped-walked to the exit. He pushed past a few customers, ignoring their nosy stares to the best of his ability. 

Haha, whoo, boy. That had been stressful. Was this how Saiki felt all the time?

The thought made him pause momentarily. A beat later, though, he had pushed it aside and continued onto the door. 

Saiki first, then Aren could have a quick little freakout and work through everything he’d seen and heard. And holy shit, that had been a lot. 

Momentarily shifting Saiki to a single arm, he pushed open the cafe door and into the light. It was still pretty bright outside because they had only been at the damn place for maybe 20 minutes. 

Shit, really? Only 20 minutes?

Watching Saiki’s chest heave had felt like an eternity. Every moment he shuddered and shook had been a moment too long.

He felt more than saw a bit of the tension leave Saiki as Aren stepped out. His hands loosened from their tight clamp around his ears, and he pulled back a bit from Aren’s shirt, seeming to relax now that they weren’t confined in a place with a literal crowd of people. 

Something warm and gooey bloomed in his stomach as Saiki blinked up softly at him. Aren smiled and the boy looked away embarrassedly. The sight filled his head with pink, fuzzy adoration of the guy. 

Suddenly, Saiki’s ears pinkened, and he began to squirm unhappily. His eyes, no longer lidded from exhaustion, glared mildly at Aren, whose grin widened in response. 

With such a stunning guy in his arms, why would he even think about putting him down?

Saiki’s glare sharpened, and Aren couldn’t help but laugh. 

Fuck, he could be so cute when he wasn’t getting what he wanted. Aren could kick himself for missing this absolutely crucial detail. Saiki was a goddamn brat, something that brought boundless joy to remember.

When it was something small (like, hypothetically, being put down), he acted like a spoiled princess, expecting his desires to be fulfilled as quickly as humanly possible. And the thing was, people didn’t just brush him aside; they listened. They followed behind him like imprinted ducklings, wanting to appease and indulge Saiki so he would deign to grace them with his presence.

They were all a little infatuated with him. And Saiki knew it too.

And Aren knew that, behind all of the shy meekness, Saiki was a domineering little thing. One that knew he was abso-fucking-lutely adorable, at that.

To be fair, he hid it well. Both his cuteness and his endearing, bratty tendencies. He didn’t use it very often. He never entertained their notions. Saiki stayed silent and distant, and yet they all scrambled to include him in everything they did. 

Or, well, he usually stayed silent. For Aren, he’d been all candied looks and coy words, like he knew that Aren would make a fool of himself to get whatever this boy wanted. 

Aren wanted to keep Saiki in his arms, so he could watch the way Saiki reacted. Maybe if he got really lucky, Saiki would give in and make those pleading eyes and use that sugary voice to ask sweetly. And he would do so knowing that his request would be filled the moment it left his mouth.  

Saiki kicked out his leg insistently, and Aren was abruptly pulled out of his daydreams. 

So much for not being a dreamer, huh? Here he was, fantasizing about his homie who’d just had a panic attack. So much for being a real man. Now, he knew Saiki wasn’t exactly a chick in a skirt-

(He’d look good in one thou- focus Aren.)

-but that didn’t mean jack shit. He was still another human being. He deserved to at least not be objectified by Aren’s teenage brain for ten goddamn seconds. 

Saiki put a gentle hand on his chest, looking up with gentle admonition like he could hear Aren’s self-flagellation and didn’t appreciate it. More likely, though, Saiki just wanted Aren to stop being a dumbass and put him down. So, Aren finally relented and let the guy stand on his own two feet. 

Saiki straightened up and began straightening his clothes out. Aren hadn’t noticed anything about them, but who was he to question the princess? 

Then the door chimed behind them. 

Aren’s gotta say, flustered shyness and simmering tension was a weird cocktail to swallow, especially for him. But if his sudden obsession with Saiki wasn’t just his raging hormones latching onto an attractive person and instead breached the realm of crush, well. 

Aren knew he was looking at his rival. The queen herself, Kokomi Teruhashi, stepped outside. It closed behind her, and the people that had followed her were stuck: they couldn’t open the door without pushing it into her, which they would probably all rather die than do.

He swallowed. The thought of going against someone so skilled in the domain of love- 

Aren always knew a losing battle when he saw one. He’d never been one for romance, but now he wished he’d at least watched a Hallmark movie or two. 

“Hey, Teruhashi,” he smiled, surprisingly genuine.

Aren had never backed down from a fight before, no matter how hopeless. No way would he do so now. Not with a pretty boy to impress! 

(And hopefully, to coax back into his arms.)

For a moment, Teruhashi’s radiance turned untouchable, something distant and otherworldly. She was above everything, a goddess walking among mere mortals, blessing those who came into contact with her. The world was hers; Aren was beneath her, and he would enjoy every moment of it. 

Then, her blinding blue eyes shifted over to Saiki, and all of her transcendence bled away until Aren once again remembered that he was just looking at a girl. Like this, softened to her humanity, it was blood that flowed through her veins, not ichor.

“Saiki,” she said, intelligent eyes boring into the kid.

Saiki turned to face her fully. He had reapplied his usual mask and was now as serene and calm as ever. 

She took a soft breath, reading what she could from the expression, and continued. “Are you okay?”

Aren knew Saiki would answer. He was very good at playing nice. 

It was the line of his shoulders, seeming tense to Aren now that he knew what Saiki looked like relaxed. It was the slight narrow of his eyes, empty and dead compared to the universe teeming with life Aren had been shown before. It all made him wonder how honest his answer would be.

Saiki seemed to be sizing her up, trying to see how dangerous the truth of his current well-being would be in her hands. After a moment, the air around him changed, and he just shrugged. “I will be,” he responded quietly, shooting a look at Aren so quickly he thought he had imagined it. 

Teruhashi bowed her head slightly, biting her lip. “Alright then.” 

She looked — tired. It did nothing to diminish her beauty, but she suddenly looked as exhausted as Saiki. 

Was it weird to feel flattered that she let Aren see her like this?

Saiki wavered, almost imperceivably to those less observant than Aren and Teruhashi. There was that conflict in his eyes, one that Aren noticed frequently; the fight between Saiki’s innate urge to nurture and comfort and his odd tendency to play at apathy. He glanced at Aren, a request somehow written across his blank face, and he began to walk away — leaving Aren alone with the girl.

Damnit, Saiki! What was he supposed to say here? They were (maybe) love rivals, remember?!

“You should go after him.”

Hah!? 

Aren whipped around from staring at Saiki to looking at Teruhashi. Then he tried to calm down and actually take her in. There was a sincerity in her eyes that shook him to the core. She was making herself vulnerable. He had to show her he understood the severity of this by doing his job and paying attention. 

He tried to think. He knew little about her, but being around her was like experiencing a bad case of deja vu. Actually, reflecting on it for once, he was pretty sure he knew why

She was a good person, Aren felt. But she wasn’t a real one. 

The thing giving him deja vu? Her similarity to Saiki.

There was something fabricated about her. There was something manufactured about Saiki. Everything about them seemed calculated — from the way that they spoke and integrated (or didn’t, in Saiki’s case) with others, all the way they dressed and even walked. 

The main thing was, Saiki slunk away as Teruhashi shone. 

And the harsh truth was that Aren didn’t like it.

Genuineness was essential to survival. Because what use was a gang if you couldn’t safely turn your back to them? If you couldn’t say with certainty whether they would guard it or stick a knife in it?

But he’d also gotten better at lying for a reason. His old world had been tougher and more painful, but it’d also been simpler to a degree. The language of battle was an easy one to become fluent in, and there was only so much hiding one could do when spitting out teeth. 

Here though, people were taught to bite their tongues and stay silent when necessary. Hierarchies were hidden at first glance, and you couldn’t tell the strength of a person just by sizing them up. Interactions were a necessity, as Teruhashi knew.

But they were also a danger, as Saiki likely knew.

Here, you either blended in or stayed away — whether by misleading or manipulating, or by cutting away everything that could possibly make you visible. It would have repulsed his fourteen-year-old self, and maybe still did a bit today. 

But he couldn’t brush it aside as easily now. Civilian life wasn’t black and white, no matter the airs so-called ‘polite society’ liked to put on.

So he’d stopped faulting Teruhashi for her- well, everything. And he’d stopped faulting Saiki for his everything. They were smart and knew how to survive here; that meant they were selective with who they let actually see them. 

So, maybe it wasn’t weird to be flattered. He understood the momentousness of Teruhashi’s genuinity. 

And he also understood that she was letting him win this round. 

She gave him a wry smile, nothing like her usual one, and somehow all the more gorgeous for it. “Take care of him, Kuboyasu.”

Well, what else could someone do except agree? You don’t mess with the queen, after all. He returned the smile and gave a sloppy salute. “Yes ma’am!”

Her mouth twitched in amusement. After a moment, her eyes shut, and Aren felt in his gut how weary she was of it all. Then, she plastered on her usual smile and turned to go back inside to her adoring fans. 

After she left, Aren couldn’t help but stare at the door for a moment longer. The tang of admiration was better than the almost sickly sweetness of blind worship. He wondered if she felt the same.

It was yet another thing he’d have to push off working through until later, though. Aren had another mystery to unravel, and one who was walking away quite quickly at that. 

He turned to jog after Saiki, who was a few stores down already. “Saiki, c’mon,” he laughed as he caught up. “Don’t be like that~”

Predictably, Saiki didn’t spare him a glance. That was fine, though, because it let Aren pick out how the shorter boy was feeling. 

From what he could see? Not good. Saiki looked exhausted. Even with the colored shades, Aren could still take note of the worryingly-dull glaze of his half-lidded eyes. His usual distinguished poise was a bit tousled now. His posture, too; to most, it would still be perfect. But anything less than straight-as-a-goddamn-board was slouching for Saiki. Fatigue pulled at his shoulders, dragging them down right along with his gaze. 

The sight made his heart squeeze. Saiki really had been put through the wringer today. It was alright, though. Because Aren had taken it upon himself to make sure he’d get back home and make sure he was safe and comfortable enough to rest, and that was exactly what he was gonna do.

So, he leaned into his usual role of ‘scary attack dog’ and glowered at others who came too close to shoulder-checking them or cutting them off. Saiki didn’t say anything, but Aren couldn’t help but feel that the boy had relaxed at the increased distance from others, just a tiny bit. 

It was a good thing they made it closer to the suburbs before the crowds really started to gather. Saiki was doing better now, but there was only so much Aren could do about rush hour. Aren assumed he would be walking the other to his house, maybe letting his parents know to take care of him if Saiki wasn’t up to speaking. So he was pretty surprised when they turned onto his street, Saiki’s house in view, and the boy stopped in his tracks. 

Saiki turned around. He was trying valiantly to push through the fatigue and seemed to have regained a good deal of his usual unaffected vibe. 

“You don’t have to walk me all the way back, Aren. I know you actually wanted to go eat, so…” He trailed off, then shrugged after a moment, looking embarrassed. “Thanks, by the way, I guess. For helping. Me-” 

Saiki forced in a breath, and Aren tried his best to be patient and wait for him to finish. No use jumping down his throat when he spoke so little, after all. “I didn’t mean to burden you with…that. But thanks for-” 

Saiki grit his teeth. The sight of him struggling with thanking Aren was honestly hilarious, but he forced himself to clamp down on his laughter. They were having a serious talk, so no laughing, Aren! 

The whole ‘burden’ comment helped with that, actually.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” Saiki finally managed to force out. “You did more than you needed to, but that’s just the kind of guy you are.” 

He muttered that last part to himself, turning the side as his humiliated flush re-surged. Saiki carefully didn’t look at Aren as he added on, “You don’t have to stick around. I can go on my own from here.”

Aren cocked his head and tried to think once more. He was getting better at understanding this odd double-speak, and Aren was pretty sure he knew what this was. 

This was an out. 

Saiki was giving him a free pass out of this, with no strings attached. For all his averageness in grades, Aren knew intrinsically that Saiki was sharp. Quick. He was slow and deliberate, and sometimes that made him seem indecisive or even lazy. Hell, Aren had even taken him to be a weak-willed goody-two-shoes when he’d originally decided to stick around. 

But, these past years- no, these past months, had painted a very different picture of the person Kusuo Saiki was. And right now, that picture didn’t look very happy. 

No one hid so succinctly and obsessively out of mere shyness. No kid had the ability to go so cool and blank-faced at a moment’s notice, or kept their natural urge to connect with others hidden under lock and key, like an embarrassing secret. 

No, Aren reaffirmed to himself as his heart turned sore. This would not be a happy story. He would not enjoy getting to read through these chapters, the pillars of what made Saiki the person he was today. 

Because it wouldn’t be happy. It would be unfair and heartbreaking, and there was nothing Aren could do to change the past, no matter how badly he would want to. 

But.

Aren was no fucking coward. No, he was a man, one with honor and loyalty. He would be sticking with this, and would force himself to put together the entire puzzle that was Saiki Kusuo. Because it was about damn time somebody did. 

“Nah, you know I don’t mind, homie,” Aren forced his voice into a casual cadence, shoving his hands into his pockets and flashing Saiki a bright grin. “‘Sides, I’m not one to just throw out words, y’know? I said I’d help and that’s what I’m gonna do.” He pressed his fist into his chest, speaking with a bravado he didn’t really feel. “On my honor as a man, I ain’t leaving until I know for sure you’re good.”

Saiki didn’t respond. But he looked up to stare at him with that stone-cold, distant face. When Aren looked close enough, he noticed the gathering tension in his shoulders. 

Aren’s heart began to beat faster. His instincts were warning him that Saiki was gearing up for something. There was that odd, niggling fear again, telling him, in no uncertain terms, that Aren was out of his league. 

He swallowed. Screw it. In for a penny and all that, yeah?

“Look. I dunno if you think that seeing you like that was gonna scare me off or whatever, but you better listen to me when I tell you this, because I want it to get through that pretty head of yours.”

He strode over to Saiki, looking him dead in his bespeckled eyes. The boy’s eyebrows went up ever so slightly, like he was surprised at Aren’s ballsiness. 

Yeah, better get used to it, sweetheart. 

“You’re stuck with me, Saiki. And I,” he hit his chest again while giving the other a shit-eating grin. “Refuse to let one of my boys suffer under my care. You feel me?”

A breath. Two breaths. Saiki didn’t back down, continuing to stare at Aren. Something odd entered his eyes, a sheen that Aren just barely caught.

Finally, he responded, “Okay.” 

Okay. 

Haha, yes! Okay! 

Aren did his best not to fist pump and to just act natural. “Sweet, cool. Okay!” He had to play it cool, so he didn’t scare off Saiki. Instead of tossing an arm around the boy’s shoulders like he wanted to, he shot him a thumbs up, aware that it would likely not be welcomed in his state. “Let’s get you inside, then.”

He turned to walk away before he could lose his nerve or Kusuo could change his mind. 

He had to keep moving, lest his actions catch up to his brain and he had a meltdown over his emotional wall-scaling. Or, before the exhausted docility of Saiki evaporated and Aren was killed for infiltrating said walls. 

Thankfully, Kusuo continued on with him. Aren opened the house’s gate with a flourish and bowed. His stomach bubbled with a pleased warmth as he caught a small twitch in the corner of Saiki’s mouth. 

At the door, Saiki pulled out his keys and shot Aren one last warning look, like he was telling him to gather himself up for a full-out war. Then, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. 

“I’m home,” he called out, gentle voice somehow carrying throughout the entryway and beyond. “I brought…a friend.”

And try as he might, Aren couldn’t quite keep off the satisfied beam that stretched across his face at the words. 

Chapter Text

Kusuo knew that somehow, someway, this idiot would be the death of him. Everything the punk did gave him heart palpitations, whether it was a casual display of his musculature, or that sharp, elated grin of his, or the puppyish looks of concern Kusuo had been receiving for about an hour now.  

(Kuboyasu’s eyebrows raised when he was worried. It widened his attentive eyes, and the sweet look of them coupled with a small head tilt made Kusuo’s normally cold exterior melt. It wasn’t fair. A guy who could send others scrambling with just a crack of his knuckles  really  shouldn’t be able to look so precious.)

There was another thing adding to his lethality though. Once Kusuo had noticed it, he was hard-pressed to remain unaffected:

Kuboyasu got along very well with his mom. 

And his mom seemed to like Kuboyasu. A lot. 

To be fair, her favor wasn’t hard-won. His mom adored every one of Kusuo’s self-proclaimed friends simply because they invited him (read: forced him) out of the house. 

This felt different though. It was somehow more important than any of the introductions Kusuo’s leeches and his mom had. Seeing them get along made some of the anxiety in his belly dissipate. 

Was it odd to feel giddily relieved that his mom liked his-  this  boy?

Good grief, probably. 

The topic began to annoy him, so he pushed it to the recesses of his mind where he could easily deny its existence. Instead, Kusuo tried to blame the sudden solace on something else. For example, it was easier to claim he was glad he was no longer being fussed over. 

It was such a weird concept: the idea that Kusuo, with all of his godly abilities and detachment from humanity, needed someone to baby him. And of course, Kuboyasu, with his burning need to serve and protect others, had swooped in to coddle him. Kusuo had been scooped up and tucked into his chest, carried like a princess by a boy who looked at him with soft eyes.

Kusuo feeling small and protected? Treasured and safe? 

He placed a hand on his opposite arm and felt his odd happiness turn slightly bittersweet. 

Good grief, give him a break. 

(He felt…cold.) 

Actually, while they were on the subject, Kusuo should probably clarify something. When Kuboyasu was trying to check on him, Kusuo hadn’t meant to unlock the door. Sure, some minuscule part of him had  wanted  to. But Kusuo was very good at denying himself the things he wanted, and he had starved that greedy creature in him for too long to willingly nurture it now. 

Except, it hadn’t happened willingly. Had Kusuo been behaving as he should, he would have let Kuboyasu come to his own conclusions and go back to that table of people who actually cared about him. 

But. 

He’d just felt so  terrible , and he hadn’t been able to breathe beyond the pain of  too much  and  danger . Kuboyasu had been offering the drugs of comfort and affection, and it had only taken being cuddled close once for Kusuo to become addicted.

It had been a fluke. Letting Kuboyasu in hadn’t meant anything. But it didn’t reverse the damage done.

That needy thing inside of him shivered and clawed at him, begging for the one thing Kusuo could not give. It had taken years to finally choke out the last of those urges, and now because of one mistake, all of his growth had been unraveled. It pissed Kusuo off more than words could describe, the indisputable proof of how weak his resolve was. 

‘Kuboyasu smelled nice,’  the pathetic part of him reminded. Kusuo tried to push it aside, like he did with everything else, and instead the memory of being cuddled to a warm body intensified. 

Good grief, indeed. 

His- 

His brother was right, wasn’t he? When it came down to it, Kusuo was a coward. 

He’d managed to remain isolated all these years because of the walls he had built up. He chased people away with an asshole demeanor because he knew he wouldn’t be strong enough to make them leave if they stayed. He  knew  how quickly he would fold if he was given the chance to not be alone.

What was the word his dad used to describe him sometimes?

Kusuo’s throat tightened as it came readily to mind. 

Selfish .

The descriptor settled into his being and Kusuo tried his best to breathe around its jagged edges, forcing himself to make room for it. 

It used to reside there easily. He wasn’t sure when it had left. 

His mom’s laughter yanked him back to the present. Kuboyasu wore a soft grin, and she readily returned it with her own sunny smile. “I’m glad you and my Ku Baby are friends. You seem good for him.”

Kuboyasu’s mind bloomed with joy at the words. To his private embarrassment, Kusuo’s did too. This was  way  too many different emotions in too little time. It made him feel faint.

His mom had been so excited to see him not only willingly bring someone over, but also refer to them as a friend, that she had spent a full five minutes cooing and crying over them in the doorway. Kusuo hadn’t been certain he could regain the dignity he’d lost in the cafe bathroom, but his mom had swooped in to ensure the answer was a firm  no .

Kusuo let himself give a heaving sigh, and Kuboyasu turned that warm expression onto him. The pleased warmth that had taken residence inside of Kusuo tried its best to spread to his face. With the other so close, he couldn’t rely on cyrokinesis to keep his face cool.

Because he was  blushing . Like some lovesick teenager.

Good grief, best to ignore that. 

They were all sitting down, Kusuo and Kuboyasu on the couch and his mom on the loveseat next to them. When she’d invited them into the living room, Kuboyasu hesitated at first, survival instincts demanding he remain alert. But once Kusuo sat, his loyalty had won out. 

He wouldn’t deny it: Kusuo was glad he was seated. For one, while his mom wouldn’t see it as  rude , she might comment on it. He really didn’t want to see Kuboyasu fumble his way through an explanation.

For another, despite Kusuo’s attempts at keeping his preferred emotional distance, Kuboyasu’s presence was still soothing on his frayed nerves. 

Kusuo’s telepathy was on the fritz, probably a side effect of its overexertion and the lack of sugar to keep it chugging along. For now, tangible thoughts were out of reach. Until he could rest up, Kusuo would be stuck with only picking up others' emotions, something that was incredibly…taxing. 

The lack of security was making him nervous. His anxiety coiled tightly in his stomach like a spring, ready to launch him up if any danger were to appear.

Then, Kuboyasu had slung an arm behind him onto the back of the couch, and Kusuo became breathless for an entirely different reason as his face turned scalding. 

Oh, come  on . This boy  had  to know what he was doing, right? He had to know that he made Kusuo’s entire being light up with a humiliating shimmer, because he had been exploiting it mercilessly for about an hour. Everytime Kuboyasu saw his cool-faced facade crumble, he felt a rush of excitement and joy. He had to be doing it on purpose.

Yeah that made sense. He was doing it to tease Kusuo, not because he was crushing on him. That meant Kusuo had to give up  his  crush! Right?  Right!?

Kuboyasu’s hand gently rested on his shoulder. Kusuo closed his eyes and tried not to cry again. The former punk looked at him expectantly, probably curious as to when he would tell his mom what had happened. When Kusuo stayed stubbornly silent, he decided to take the lead. 

“So, ma’am,” Kuboyasu started, now firmly in his responsible, good-boy persona. Kusuo felt his stomach tighten again in renewed worry, but he still said nothing. 

He never told his mom these kinds of things. It felt weird to do so. He knew she was his mom, but-

He took care of  her . The few times he had attempted to convey any types of distress had only been exacerbated by her reaction. It had led him to downplay practically everything he told her, until it was a problem so tiny, Kusuo couldn’t believe he had ever been upset in the first place. 

It was an awful thing to admit, but his mom, despite her attempts, would just make things worse if he involved her. So that’s why he stuck to taking care of her problems and never brought up his own.

But, Kuboyasu was sensible. Competent, even. Maybe he could help soften the ensuing freakout…? 

Before Kuboyasu could continue (and Kusuo could continue to get his hopes up), the front door began to unlock. Kusuo let his eyes slip closed as heavy resignation filled him. 

Good grief, not this guy. 

“I’m back, dear!” The voice of Kuniharu Saiki rang out. Kuboyasu straightened up, cocking his head curiously to try and get a look at the new participant. The action called to mind a puppy yet again. The comparison was so awfully cute that Kusuo almost immediately regretted forming the connection. 

“Hi honey! Ohh, you’ll never guess what happened!” His mom crooned happily as she got up to greet her husband.

“Kusuo’s out with his friends?” 

“Close!” She came into view, tugging her husband’s hand as she brought him out of the entryway and into the living room. “He’s here, but he brought a friend!”

His dad gaped for a split second before his mouth broke into a wide grin. “No way,” he laughed astonishedly, gawking down at Kusuo and Kuboyasu. “I don’t believe it! I don’t even think I’ve ever seen this one! Kusuo, you have  another  friend?”

Kuboyasu, the trained-polite boy that he was, rose to shake his dad’s hand. “Aren Kuboyasu,” he greeted, hiding his sharp canines behind a closed smile. “A pleasure.”

Kusuo fought back a smile, remembering the same greeting being given to Hairo. If it ain’t broke, and all of that, huh?

His dad seemed taken aback at the offered hand but accepted it easily. “Kuniharu Saiki, Kusuo’s dad! But, you already know that…” 

Kuboyasu’s mind hummed with amusement. He moved to sit back down, both him and Kusuo swallowing down their laughter as his dad subtly shook out his hand. 

His mom easily matched her husband's excitement once more. “Oh, Kuboyasu, I’m just so excited to have you over! Thank you for being friends with my grumpy little Ku. He must like you a lot if he invited you,” she giggled. 

Kuboyasu preened slightly at the validation while Kusuo scowled. Good grief,  mom , now the punk was going to think he experienced things like emotions!

Which he didn’t, thank you very much. That little meltdown in the bathroom didn’t count because he said so, so  there .

“It’s about time he did,” his dad chuckled. “Those kids are all too good to you for the way you treat them. It’s a wonder they continue to stick around you when you act the way you do!”

Oof. Okay, his dad was in one of those moods, then. 

He clenched his jaw but refused to react beyond that. Yeah, it was true. Kusuo was — to put it bluntly — an asshole. 

But did he have to say it in front of Kuboyasu?

The punk’s eyebrows twitched slightly before he slid his gaze over to his mom. 

Kusuo tried not to fidget, or squirm, or do anything that would expose the slow sinking of his heart. 

Damnit.  Damnit . 

Now, Kuboyasu was going to hear the truth about how little Kusuo deserved his friendship. Because he was a cold-hearted jerk who took way too much effort to even spend time with. 

And Kusuo didn’t even consider his idiots his friend. No, all those efforts should be aimed at someone who could appreciate them properly, someone who didn’t have a tantrum just because he was forced to spend time with them. 

And it was all coming from his  dad , someone whose view of Kusuo should have been rose-tinted from parental affection. If his dad didn’t even think he was a good person, how could Kuboyasu possibly ever believe that? Kusuo was just some freak of nature crushing pitifully on the first person to show him a lick of the attention he craved, way deep down where nobody could possibly see it. 

But Kuboyasu had. And now he was stuck. Kusuo had thought about it before, and his opinion still hadn’t changed; this was  humiliating . 

But, he’d just- 

Wanted it so  badly . And now he was going to get it taken away.

This would have to be fine, though. It wasn’t fair to lie to Kuboyasu. He’d approached Kusuo under false assumptions, and Kusuo had never corrected him, even despite knowing that he was the thing the punk probably despised most.

Even if the very thought of it cut deeply, Kuboyasu deserved the chance to cut ties with him.

His parents sat down as Kuboyasu’s eyes continued to bore into them. Kusuo tried not to look like he was watching his reactions while still trying to soak in everything he could. 

Eventually, Kuboyasu spoke again. “We stick around ‘cause we like him. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less.” His voice had deepened once more, but it wasn’t anything like the soothing timbre of earlier. Kusuo could hear the brief beginnings of a growl building in it, a promise of danger. His insides quivered as he wondered if it was aimed towards him. 

“Aw, all of you kids are so sweet,” his dad smiled languidly. “But you don’t have to worry. We wouldn’t hold it against any of you guys if you needed a break from him.”

Kuboyasu’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t think you’ll need to worry ‘bout that.”

His mom took the opportunity to jump in. “Ohh, I’m so glad Kusuo has such great friends,” she said cheerfully. “He stays inside all day, laying in bed and only coming out of his room to eat or run errands for us. He needs people who will take him outside and make him do things with them.”

Kuboyasu’s mind flared with unease. “He-” He blinked harshly, his expressive face readily showing his trepidation. “He stays in bed all day? Does he do it all the time?”

His dad raised his brows in surprise. “Yeah, you didn’t know? He’s a pretty lazy kid.” He shook his head and wrapped an arm around his wife. “He never wants to do anything, not even help out his dad or his friends. Sometimes he watches TV or reads, but other times he’s just…staring at the ceiling. Most teenagers love going out, but my son’s always been a weirdo.”

Kusuo kept his face blank as his dad laughed and his mom remained blissfully elated. It was silent for a moment. Finally, Kuboyasu responded, “...I see.”

Kusuo’s attempt to remain aloof to the situation crumbled at the words, and his already exhausted tear-ducts prickled painfully. He forced it back, though, refusing to give any of them an inch. It wasn’t safe to break down here. 

Or ever. 

He’d thought, stupid and silly and hopeful, that Kuboyasu was safe to be with. And he  was , to people who deserved it. But Kuboyasu was a guy of honor and loyalty.   It was the exact opposite of Kusuo, who was a selfish liar that couldn’t even face his own goddamn issues. Kuboyasu would want nothing to do with him. In fact, Kusuo would be lucky if he got out of this without the other attempting to beat him into the ground.  

And maybe he’d deserve it. 

(Maybe he’d let him.)

His mom’s gentle eyes widened alarmedly. “Oh, I promise he’s a good boy. Even if he can be a little avoidant sometimes.” Suddenly, that worried look slowly began to sharpen into something demonic. Just as it always had, the dark warning forming made Kusuo want to shy away and behave. “He  is  being nice to you all, right?”

Kuboyasu jolted, before sputtering out, “No, no, of course!” He held up his hands placatingly. Kusuo feld bad for him, truthfully. He was sure Kuboyasu’s survival instincts were screaming. “He’s a great guy. He doesn’t have to do me any favors, and I’m sure the others feel the same.”

“Really? I’m so relieved!” She changed instantly, clapping her hands together with a smile. “Sometimes he can be…”

His dad perked up and snapped his fingers. “A jerk!” He suggested, like that wasn’t his default descriptor for Kusuo. He glanced up and continued to marvel at the situation. “It’s just so crazy to me! I mean, he’s been like this for years. I can’t believe people haven’t gotten tired of him by now.”

It wasn’t a lie. Kusuo had thought the same thing before.

‘So why…?’

Kuboyasu’s hands finally dropped down. They trembled almost imperceptibly as he folded them in his lap. 

‘Why does it always hurt so much to hear?’

Kuboyasu’s mind  dripped  in the blackened tar of rage. The formerly-comforting arm behind him was now a prominent threat. It was all Kusuo could focus on. His neck tingled warningly and he resisted the urge to protect it. That would be weird, and he was abnormal enough already. 

It would be fine. Kuboyasu was scarily strong, but he wouldn’t be able to hurt Kusuo if his muscles were tense.

(An old memory surfaced, one of Kusuke wrapping a belt around the vulnerable column of his throat. His brother had managed to sneak up on him and surprise him. 

Kusuo didn’t have the healing factor he’d given the rest of humanity; he had bruises for a week after. Kusuke must have known that that attempt wouldn’t have worked once Kusuo had gotten his wits back. But he didn’t think that was the point of the attack. 

No, Kusuo was certain that Kusuke just wanted him to remember that he would never be safe. Especially not in his own house.)

His heart jumped at the memory, and he thinks his body did too because Kuboyasu glanced at him with a dark, unreadable expression, before focusing back on his parents. 

For a few seconds, Kuboyasu said nothing. He just sat there with an aura so vengeful, so craving of violence, that Kusuo felt like he was suffocating in it. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was scared.

Finally, the fakest smile Kusuo had ever seen, on anyone  ever , bloomed across Kuboyasu’s lips. The punk’s jaw was clenched so tight Kusuo knew it had to hurt. It was to keep himself from baring his teeth and terrifying the pair in front of them, Kusuo assumed. 

“Well,” he finally said. It came out as a growl, so he cleared his throat before continuing. “I always enjoy learning more about my friends.”

He stood up, brushing himself off briskly, then crossed his arms. “I think Saiki and I are gonna go upstairs. Thank you  so much  for having me.” 

He turned around to face Kusuo, his back now towards the couple. “Come on, Kusuo!” He invited, voice cheery. His mouth finally split open around his smile, and the flash of teeth perfectly complemented the searing rage in his eyes. Kusuo couldn’t help but shrink back, cold fear and resignation running through his veins. Kuboyasu kept his attention fully on Kusuo as he tilted his head. “Can you lead me to your room?”

Truth be told, Kusuo really didn’t want to. He would have given anything to be away from his parents just 5 minutes ago, but now Kuboyasu was standing over him. Kusuo knew what people did when they were angry. Especially former punks who grew up with it.

As soon as they were out of sight, the other would hit him. And Kusuo would have to try and remain relaxed so Kuboyasu didn’t shatter his hand when he did.

He didn’t want to be alone with Kuboyasu. 

But his mom would get mad at him if he said no. She’d make him do it anyway, and Kusuo would be in trouble with not just Kuboyasu, but his mom too. And he was sure his dad would comment on it. He would take it as proof that everything he believed about his son was true. 

Kusuo wasn’t getting out of this. He was  trapped .

Kusuo nodded stiffly, peeling himself up from the couch and beginning to lead the punk upstairs. Kuboyasu followed him closely, his steps heavy and expressing the anger Kusuo could sense in him. 

When they got there, Kuboyasu opened the door for him. Kusuo padded in reluctantly, trying to ignore the way his own were shaking. He hoped the other wouldn’t notice, but it was a lofty wish. Kuboyasu noticed  everything ; it’s what got them into this mess. 

And now he was going to leave Kusuo alone. 

He felt his stomach drop as the thought crossed his mind. 

It was true, though. Kuboyasu was going to leave. He was going to walk out and just abandon Kusuo because he was  bad  and  wrong . Kuboyasu was going to walk out and Kusuo would be alone, and Kusuke and his dad would be right when they said that nobody could  possibly  like Kusuo, because Kusuo despite all of his power was  nothing . He was  nothing,  he was  terrible  and a  monster  and he had to be alone because he hurt people who got close, even though being alone hurt  so bad,  he couldn’t take it anymore ,  he was so tired, please,  please-

“Shh, baby, it’s okay, it’s okay-”

“No…” Kusuo shuddered, feeling like his insides had just been torn asunder. “I don’t know what to  do -”

“Follow my breathing, Saiki, just-”

“ Wrong , I’m so  wrong ,” he groaned, curling up to protect his vitals. “I don’t know how to fix it-”

“Don’t say-”

Kusuo lashed out a hand to grip Kuboyasu’s collar and tugged him in close. Kusuo felt the other jump, throwing up his hands defensively, but he just couldn’t bring himself to  care . He let himself collapse against his chest before bringing his other hand to clutch desperately at the only life preserver he’d ever been granted. “Please, I promise I can change, I can do  anything . I’ll let  you  do anything, just don’t leave, don’t  leave -”

Suddenly, a pair of hands wrapped around his jaw, and Kusuo choked on his tears in terror. He was so  tired , this was his second tantrum of the day and it just never seemed to stop or end. 

Kuboyasu wrenched his face up to look him square in the eyes. Kusuo hiccupped and tried to convince himself this was for the best. This is what he wanted. He wanted Kuboyasu to leave, so Kusuo could stop toying with his heart.

It didn’t feel right, though. It felt pretty damn awful, actually. But then, Kuboyasu’s thumbs started to stroke his cheeks, and Kusuo melted into the affection yet again.

Kusuo’s breathing began to slow as he was forced to take in the little details pervading his senses. Kuboyasu’s palms were warm and calloused. His eyes were no longer angry, and he was leaning over Kusuo, squatting down on the floor. Even his voice was no longer a threat, and he was saying something that Kusuo couldn’t quite make out. 

He knew his mouth was hanging open stupidly, but it was hard to do anything about it when his body kept trying to make those pathetic whimpering noises. Kuboyasu began wiping away the worst of the wetness on his cheeks and the noises turned into soft sobs.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, he managed to stop the flow of tears, choking down the suffocating fear of abandonment. 

He wasn’t afraid or miserable or angry at the world anymore. 

He was just- 

Just tired. 

He sunk further into Kuboyasu’s hold with a shuddering sigh. God, he was so  tired . 

“There we are,” Kuboyasu murmured. His voice was back in that pitch that made some part of Kusuo unravel. “Just like that, doin’ perfect.”

Kuboyasu’s hands were shaking. Kusuo flinched away. 

The other’s hands retracted like he had been burned. Kuboyasu clutched his hands into his chest while he checked over Kusuo desperately, like he was worried he’d hurt him. 

It was hard to focus, but eventually, Kusuo dragged himself up into a kneeling position. The world felt gray. Everything was muffled and distant, like this wasn’t  really  happening. Even his movement felt choppy, like he was actually swimming through the thick molasses that had pervaded his mind. 

Neither of them spoke for a while. The only sound was both of their harsh breath, and his occasional sniffle. But the sight of Kuboyasu’s sad, guilty eyes made Kusuo open his mouth and break the silence. “I…” 

He shook his head, trying to get it working. He tried once more to speak. “I don’t understand. You were so upset, but not at me…?” 

He trailed off as Aren’s expression slowly morphed into one of disbelief. His mouth and eyes fell wide open, the expression almost comical.  

Aha, whoopsie. That was a misstep.

“Saiki,” Kuboyasu said haltingly, staring at Kusuo in distress. “You- you do understand who I’m angry at, right? Who was in the wrong here?”

It took Kusuo a bit to find the nerve to respond as he tried to work through what he was hearing. “They were just telling the truth,” he insisted. He sounded quieter than he meant to, trembling and weak. “What part of that was a lie?”

The other’s expression sickened with grief. “Holy shit. Oh my- Saiki, please tell me you don’t  believe  all of that…”

“You don’t?” Kusuo whispered. He knew he was staring at Kuboyasu in bafflement, but he couldn't  stop . 

The evident care and worry confused him. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Kuboyasu should  hate  him.

Heck, Kusuo hated himself. It was just how it was supposed to be. If anything,  he  was the monster here; he was the one who hurt his dad, the one who was keeping his mom from having friends, and the one who made Kusuke turn out like-  that . 

And after hearing everything, Kuboyasu just looked close to tears. Or a rampage. Or both. 

He shook his head slowly as he continued to stare fixedly on Kusuo. “It’s  never  been a chore for us to care about you. Everything they said was wrong. It was wrong for them to tell you those things, and it’s fucked up that you’ve heard it enough to believe it.”

Kusuo couldn’t stand it. He looked away and tried to regain his bearings, to word this in a way that would be able to get the truth across. “It’s different…for me. I know you don’t agree, but-”

“But nothing, Saiki,” Kuboyasu cut off. His voice was beginning to tighten in anger. “D’you really think I’d just fucking  get tired of you  or whatever bullshit he said?”

‘Yes,’  Kusuo wanted to say.  ‘I need to think that so it doesn’t hurt when I finally chase you away.’

This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have today, on the heels of two of his strongest tantrums in a very long time. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have  ever , actually.  

As he solidified the thought, his emotions snuffed out once more. This was what he should have done in the cafe. This cool detachment had always aided him well whenever his brother’s games went too far, or his dad just wouldn’t  shut up . Nothing could dig its claws into him when he was so distant and apathetic.

He let the hurt and exhaustion seep out of his expression before turning back to face the other. “No, Kuboyasu. I don’t think that,” he said monotonously. “Thank you for everything. You can head out, now.”

Kuboyasu’s face twitched, emotions fluttering rapidly across his face. He opened his mouth, closed it, before just settling on frowning. He stared at Kusuo with those earnest eyes for a while, just searching for something. 

When he found absolutely nothing, he spoke up. “Just like that, huh?”

Kusuo stared blankly. What had he expected? It’s not like he was ever willingly sensitive and vulnerable; if Kuboyasu wanted someone that badly, he could go to Kaido. The thought made his stomach sour, but it was kept distant by the fog suffusing him. 

He didn’t move as Kuboyasu just looked at him. His voice was tight when he got out, “‘Aight. I know when to fuck off.” 

He pushed himself off the floor and gave Kusuo a strained smile. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Saiki.”

The punk hesitated, waiting for a response. When he received none, he just shook his head and walked out. Kusuo watched him go, resisting the urge to reach out and ask him to stay, if only to get the memory of his heartbroken expression out of his head. 

Chapter Text

Aren's head was spinning. It was going topsy-turvy, sliding to the left, the right, then taking it back with everything he had seen today crammed into it. 

After the emotional rollercoaster he'd rode in Saiki's room, Aren's brain had gone pretty mushy and fuzzy. He'd felt shivery and confused, like someone had torn out a rug from under him, only to reveal there hadn't been a floor to begin with.

His odd, murky awareness had successfully distracted him from his original feelings of fury. Unfortunately, his rage was easily remembered as he ran into the couple of the hour while shuffling out. 

"Oh, are you leaving already?" Mrs. Saiki asked, cupping her face with a hand. Her head tilted, and at that moment, Aren couldn't help but notice how similar she looked to her son. It was enough to temper some of Aren's anger and remind him to keep his cool.

He could keep his head.

For Saiki. 

"Aha, yeah," he laughed awkwardly, hoping he was masking as well as he thought. "I only walked Saiki home because he wasn't feeling well."

Mrs. Saiki's curious expression morphed into one of worry. "Oh dear, little Ku didn't tell me that…" She pressed her knuckles over her mouth, looking up the stairs to where her youngest was.

Some of Aren's grudge softened at the sight of the unadulterated, maternal care in her gaze. Don't get him wrong, he was still pissed off as all hell for his homie. But-

Mrs. Saiki seemed like she was genuinely trying. She didn't seem to have any of the sharp cunning he saw in Saiki's eyes. He usually wouldn't dream of holding that against her, but, respectfully, Saiki's happiness was a higher priority to him than anything to do with her. 

She didn't seem to know anything was off, but she had good intentions. That was good, Aren decided. It meant she would be willing to learn and adapt for her kid. That was more than some parents could say. 

"Ah, he'll be fine." Mr. Saiki waved his hand carelessly. "He always is!"

Wait, fuck that. This guy didn't deserve a respectful title inside Aren's goddamn head. 

Kuniharu gave his wife a comforting smile, then turned back to look at Aren. "Sorry about that, kiddo. I know he probably wasn't a very good host."

The asshole right in front of him was the issue. The kind of guy who said those things about his kid? Instantly on Aren's shit list. Especially when Aren knew said kid. 

Saiki may believe it, but Aren for sure didn't. His boy deserved to have people around him that cared for him, no matter what his dad had to say. 

And he was pretty sure this guy was the reason Mrs. Saiki turned the other way when it came to her son's suffering. Or at least part of the reason. 

Aren forced away the fantasies of feeding Kuniharu his own goddamn teeth and responded, "He was fine. Actually-"

This was probably a bad idea. Aren wasn't even sure the guy liked him. 

But he was also blindly loyal. Aren refused to back down in this crucial moment.

"-we're going to start walking to school together," he smiled thinly. "Wanna keep him company, after all."

Even if this had the potential to turn out sour, it was all worth it to see the utter shock on the fucker's face. 

Kusuo almost wanted to skip school. 

He hadn't eaten dinner last night. Under the forced calm, his emotions had broiled, bubbling under his skin, and he had known he wouldn't be able to keep himself from erupting if something rubbed him the wrong way. So he'd retreated to his room, feeling the ugly tar rush through his veins.

If Kusuo somehow bled, would it come up too? Maybe the blackened oil of his feelings would drain out, burning the skin behind it. Then, people would see and know that he had to be emptied out in order to obtain a mimicry of normalcy. They would stare at him, knowing what had happened, but they would also know it was for the best. Kusuo could be happy only if he was torn apart and put back together, correctly this time.

Maybe then his dad would love him as much as he loved Mom. 

As much as he loved Kusuke. 

Kusuo clenched the bedsheets briefly, trying to figure out what was wrong with him today. He couldn't blame it on his powers because as much as he wanted to make this insignificant, he was too familiar with how despair felt to brush it aside.

He used to know it better, though. Back in junior high, it had clung to him, day after day. It had held him when no one else would, dragged him in with its suffocating and unerring presence, letting him know that Kusuo would never be without it. 

It had gotten better these past years. Even with the volcano and the time resets. Some days Kusuo could almost forget the aching weight he dragged with him. And as much as he pretended otherwise, he knew his burden had become lighter thanks to the people who called themselves his friends. 

And deep down, this is what Kusuo had been afraid of. He knew it was only a matter of time before his desolation claimed him once more. It hurt worse now that he knew what breathing freely felt like. 

 He would always inevitably end up back here, tied down to his bed by his own goddamn mind. 

Kusuo huffed a sigh and flipped over onto his tummy. Good grief, he was feeling melodramatic, wasn't he? That stupid boy had to be to blame. Kusuo used to be able to keep his distance, but here he was, bemoaning his pathetic feelings. 

People were sad all the time. It didn't make them this lazy. 

It would seem abnormal, and maybe his idiots would stress and fuss over him tomorrow, but that was a problem for later. Later, when Kusuo could drag himself out of the murky bog he was currently stuck in. When he could face them and put on a convincing facade. 

His dad would complain, and his mom would hover, but he decided that was future Kusuo's issue. So, he grabbed his comforter and tugged it more securely around himself. Kusuo would be safe under his blanket and tucked away in his bed, where the world could pass him by while he remained stationary. 

Perhaps to anyone else, the thought would have been frightening. But to Kusuo, getting to be still and unchanging, despite the chaos, was what he craved. 

Kusuo's dad would probably come here soon, wondering why he was still in bed. And no matter how Kusuo answered, the man would grin and laugh at him. Then he'd beg Kusuo to take him to work, and when Kusuo inevitably ignored him, his dad would call him a name before rushing off. 

Then it would just be him and his mom. He'd eat something to assuage her worries, then disappear to his room to sleep his mood away. 

Or, that would be the plan if the doorbell didn't ring. 

Kusuo was yanked out of his pity party with an unpleasant jolt. His mom's sing-songy voice rang out, and a deep, overwhelming sense of dread welled up in Kusuo as he registered who was there.

Kusuo crossed his eyes, hoping and praying that he was somehow wrong.

Good fucking grief. Good fucking-

"Hello, Mrs. Saiki," Kuboyasu smiled politely. 

"Kuboyasu! Oh, I'm so happy you came!" His mom gushed. "Baby Ku is in his room still. You're welcome to go up and see him."

-grief. No, Kuboyasu was not welcome to come up and see him. Kuboyasu shouldn't be welcome here at all. Kusuo couldn't-

He wouldn't be able to handle seeing him. 

Kusuo uncrossed his eyes, then pulled his comforter up over his ears. It was definitely childish, but he felt safer in his bed, curled up in some place secure and warm. 

Even if it sometimes felt like a prison.

Now that Kusuo was actually paying attention to his surroundings, he could tell Kuboyasu was getting closer. There was a feeling of determination suffusing his thoughts that worried Kusuo. He crossed his eyes once more and saw the former punk standing outside his door.

Kusuo almost wanted to make a joke and say something about him feeling creeped out. Maybe he could turn this into something else to reduce Kuboyasu to one of his idiots that he picked apart verbally on the daily. 

But Kusuo couldn't run away from this. He couldn't even get out of bed. 

Kuboyasu took a breath, shifted nervously, then rapped his knuckles on the wood. 

Kusuo uncrossed his eyes and stayed silent and still, unwilling to decide whether to let Kuboyasu in. 

“Saiki-” Kuboyasu called out. He hesitated momentarily, then said, "I'm coming in. So if you don't want me in there, just- throw something at me or hit the door."

Kusuo's lip twitched slightly at that despite himself. Then the door opened, and his anxiety rushed back in full force. 

Kusuo sat up to stare at Kuboyasu, who was standing dumbfounded in the doorway as if he was surprised Kusuo hadn't fled. 

For a moment, it was silent as they sized each other up. Then, Kuboyasu broke it. "Hey," he greeted, voice slightly breathless. Kusuo just narrowed his eyes. 

Kuboyasu cleared his throat. "How are you doing?"

Kusuo let his gaze slide away before shrugging and tugging his blanket closer around himself. 

"...Do you plan on getting up?"

Kusuo, instead of answering, scowled and flopped over on his side. Maybe Kuboyasu would take the hint this time and leave him alone. 

Kuboyasu went silent beside him. His mind whirled with hesitance for a moment, and Kusuo could almost believe that Kuboyasu really would leave him alone. 

But the former punk wasn't prone to creeping along carefully. "Saiki, get up."

Kusuo just huffed in response, curling up tighter. A second later, despite knowing full well what Kuboyasu was planning on doing, Kusuo still grunted in displeasure as his comforter was yanked back. 

"Saiki-"

Kusuo growled and dragged himself up onto an arm. “No, you listen, Kuboyasu. I'm sick of you barging into my life like you know everything. You don't get a free pass to pull this kind of shit just because you saw me upset once." 

Behind him, something hurt and wary pierced through Kuboyasu. Kusuo told himself that he was glad this idiot was going to leave. After that, Kusuo could deal with his mood on his own. 

However, a second later, that hurt transformed into something Kuboyasu was more comfortable with.

Anger sprouted in his expression rapidly. Kusuo was honestly surprised it had taken this long to get to this point. "I ain't saying I know everything, holmes. But you can't honestly sit there and say that shit, expecting I'll believe I really don't know jack shit."

"Don't be so arrogant," Kusuo snapped back. "What makes you think I even want you here? Just leave already. You left just fine yesterday."

Kuboyasu flinched slightly, and Kusuo's heart throbbed unhappily. For a moment, Kuboyasu was looking at Kusuo with that kicked puppy expression, sad and betrayed. Kusuo couldn't stand to look at it, so he turned to face his wall. 

A moment later, however, Kusuo was squawking in unpleasant shock as he was lifted up. "You- you goddamn punk! What the hell?" He cried out as Kuboyasu heaved him up. Then he was yelping yet again as he was dumped unceremoniously onto the floor. 

Kusuo looked up at Kuboyasu, who had his arms crossed and a none-too-happy expression. "Look, you can use that against me all you like," he growled, making the hairs on Kusuo's neck stand up. "I'll let it happen. But you ain't nowhere near as smart as I thought if you think I'll let you rot in bed all day alone."

Kusuo stared in astonishment and not an insignificant amount of fear. It made him feel sick and anxious, which in turn made him angry. "Fuck off! You're nothing to me! All of you are just leeches, how dare-"

The door swung open with a bang, and both Kusuo and Kuboyasu jolted in shock. Kuboyasu's mouth split open around a snarl, whipping around to give the intruder a run for their money.

Unfortunately, the intruder just turned out to be Kusuo's dad. The man jumped away himself, fearful of Kuboyasu's blatant aggression. "Jeez, kid, just checking on you both!"

Kuboyasu tensed and straightened up from his stance. "Haha, sorry about that," he ground out. "People usually knock in my house."

Kusuo nudged Kuboyasu's foot with his own, sending him a dirty look at his snipping before pushing himself up. "We're fine, Dad."

"Oh, okay, your mom had just heard a thunk so she got worried and-"

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Kusuo snapped out, crossing his arms unhappily. 

"Oh jeeze, Kusuomon, can-"

At Kusuo's warning look, his dad backtracked. "I'll head out now, then." He smiled nervously before fumbling for the doorknob clumsily. Eventually, he managed, and the door was closed. 

Kuboyasu gave Kusuo a bewildered look as Kusuo heaved a sigh. Both of their anger had been extinguished by the suddenness of the encounter. Kusuo re-noted his exhaustion and padded over to sink down on his bed.

"Look, Saiki, I'm-"

"Don't, Kuboyasu. Just…” Kusuo dropped his head into his hands, letting his fingers tangle into his hair. "I'm the one who should apologize. What I said was rude, especially after you put up with me yesterday."

"Hey," Kuboyasu frowned, crouching down in front of Kusuo. "I told you yesterday, I don't put up with you. We're friends, whether you want to admit it or not."

Kusuo looked up at the other. Kuboyasu's expression was still ticked off, but it was tempered by the care visible in it. It made Kusuo's chest ache to see. "I…" Kusuo tried. "I don't think I could handle going to school today," he confessed, hiding his face in his hands once more to avoid seeing Kuboyasu's reaction. 

"... That's okay," Kuboyasu rumbled. Like magic, Kusuo's stomach settled at the sound of it. "I kinda figured you wouldn't be. I-"

He huffed out a breath. Curiosity pricked in Kusuo as he detected the nervousness infused in it. "I brought a change of clothes. Like, everyday ones. I was thinking, well, y'know…"

Kusuo finally peeked up at Kuboyasu. The boy's hand was rubbing his neck, his cheeks dusted red. "I know you wanted to hang out yesterday. So we can do that today. Just the two of us…?" He trailed off uncertainly. 

Kusuo's heart thudded stupidly at the sight of the former punk making a fool of himself. And as much as he wanted to tease him about it, Kusuo feared he would be doing the same if he said anything convoluted.

Despite himself, Kusuo felt the word "Okay," slip out from his telepathy, and he was instantly cursing himself for his agreement and weak will.

Good grief, Kusuo had just told himself he would handle this alone, and now he was doing this? Skipping school to hang out with a boy who he just got into an argument with? This was stupid, he needed to backtrack and-

A sweet, joyous laugh interrupted his spiraling, and Kusuo was treated to the full impact of Kuboyasu's blinding, eager smile. Any thoughts of bailing out slipped through Kusuo's grasp like sand. 

The pure affection shining in Kuboyasu's eyes was enough to soothe the worst of Kusuo's self-loathing. Instead, it warmed his body, and his lips curled up in a hesitant smile.

Frankly, Aren hadn't been expecting Saiki to agree. 

He'd hoped, definitely. From the second Aren had lied straight out to Kuniharu's face, he had been praying that Saiki wouldn't instantly vaporize him with his patented rueful glare as soon as Aren knocked on the door. 

He had expected to be greeted by Mrs. Saiki, but being told to talk to Saiki upstairs had made his stomach ache with anxiety. It was so bad that Aren had almost considered bailing when he stood outside Saiki's door. 

But Aren wasn't a quitter, no sir. So he'd made himself knock. 

And he was glad he did because Saiki had looked so small and tired in his bed. Something defeated in the other's gaze made Aren's heart crack and his determination flare up. He knew, under any circumstances, he couldn't leave Saiki here to lay in bed, knowing that his parents took their little boy's moodiness at face value. 

As much as Aren tried to remain fair, he just couldn't fathom how Saiki's parents couldn't notice his misery. It seemed so obvious to Aren, who had seen the ugly, empty helplessness so many times in just two days. 

That didn't matter right now, though, because Aren had to see to it that Saiki would be free of that pain, if only for a few hours. 

Aren wanted to see this boy smile more. Saiki was usually so purposefully blank-faced that Aren was always swept away by how sweet his smile looked. 

That little smile Saiki had given Aren, well. 

That would definitely be gracing his dreams from time to time. 

For now, though, Aren waited in Saiki's bedroom as said boy changed in the restroom. Aren had offered to step out, but Saiki had just shaken his head and informed him that he didn't change in his room. 

That was…weird…but Aren had seen stranger. It didn't bug him. 

What was bugging him, however, was the niggling sense of being watched. It was making Aren's neck prickle uncomfortably and activating his instincts. 

He wanted to respect Saiki's privacy, he really did, but he just couldn't keep himself from scanning the room. Aren sat on the bed, stiff and uncomfortable, flittering his gaze around to try and soothe his paranoia.

Or, he would have assumed it was paranoia had Aren not spotted the telling glint of a camera lens. 

Maybe they were security, Aren reasoned to himself. There wasn't a reason for his gut to warn him against doing anything that would expose vulnerability. 

But then he spotted another. And another. And those were just the ones Aren could spot from his position on the bed.

'Security cameras' his ass. Something here was fucked up.

The door opened slowly to reveal Saiki, who was hovering nervously outside. Normally, the mere sight of the kid would have been enough to garner a smile from him. But Aren's mind was still stuck on the chilling implications of his observation.

"Saiki," Aren started. The guy in question tilted his head attentively.

...Aren shouldn't ask. Not now. He was pushing too much. Despite Saiki's posturing, Aren knew he had gained some of the guy's trust. If anyone else had tried to pull what Aren just had, they probably wouldn't have even received a response. 

But that didn't mean Saiki would tolerate anything else. Not in the mood he was in. And it wasn't Aren's job to pry, not right now. He was supposed to help keep Saiki out of the house and out of his own head. And something told Aren that this would be a can of worms he couldn't close, not for a while. 

He wasn't even sure if Saiki was safe right now. It was better to wait. Aren would snoop when he could ensure his homie was entirely under his protection, but not before. 

He refused to risk Saiki like that. 

"...make sure you grab anything you need, okay?" Aren smiled. 

Saiki gave him a flat, unimpressed look, and Aren had the impression that the other knew his relaxed tone was a farce. But Saiki didn't call him out on it, so Aren considered himself lucky. 

"I'll do that," Saiki finally responded. But then, his expression morphed into something softer, hinting at his odd brand of shyness and making Aren's stomach flutter. Saiki turned his head away, his ears tinting pink. "You should get breakfast from my mom. I'll be down there in a bit."

"You sure?" Aren asked, but he was already picking himself up off the bed. Kusuo just nodded and stared as Aren walked out.

Well, Aren would eat breakfast if they wanted him to. But it would also allow him to learn more about Mrs. Saiki, so he would take the opportunity readily. 

"I'll see you boys later!" Mrs. Saiki called out from the doorway. Aren smiled back, and he didn't miss the warm look Saiki gave his mom, either.

She was different from his own Ma, but that wasn't a bad thing. The more Aren talked to her, the more evidence he gathered of her undying affection for her family. 

It was sweet. And Saiki obviously adored her. 

"Hey, Saiki, do Shun and Nendo walk by here?" Aren asked, slinging his bag casually over his shoulder. 

Saiki tucked his bag to his side, posture perfect and elegant, and shook his head no. "They usually come by a bit earlier. And I leave even earlier than that."

Aren felt a spark of amusement go through him. "Did you memorize their schedules to avoid them?"

Saiki's eyes went wide, and his cheeks pinked in embarrassment. "I-" He swallowed and scowled. "Shut up."

Aren let himself laugh, and to his delight, he could see another of those little smiles tugging at Saiki's lips. "Hey homie, it's cool. You need your time away, don't you?"

Saiki's eyebrows raised slightly. "Yeah," he responded, giving Aren a curious look. "I do."

"Except with me!" Aren sang, beaming at the way Saiki's cheeks got even pinker.

"You're not that special, punk," The boy shot back, pouting, placing a hand on his cheek. "I tolerate you."

"Yeah?" Aren crooned.

Saiki sniffed indignantly. "Yes."

The banter seemed to be helping, Aren noted. It made Saiki seem more alive and present and made Aren's chest swell with pride. 

Smiling, Aren drifted closer to bump Saiki's shoulder. "Tolerate me for a few more hours?" He asked, unable to stop the hope from infusing his voice.

"Good grief," Saiki huffed. A cat-smug tilt to his lips exposed how pleased he was with Aren's request. "If you want to hang out that bad, I suppose it would be cruel to deny you."

Aren laughed and poked playfully at Saiki's cheek. It was warm from his blush, giving Aren a happy, bubbly sensation to know he was the reason for it. "Brat," he teased.

At that, Saiki gave him that look that had pervaded his dreams for days, the precious glance under those pretty, pretty lashes. He didn’t look so defeated now. That dominating regalness that Aren had come to adore shone enchantingly. "You love it," he said, cocky and sure.

It was true. Aren did love it. 

Chapter Text

Aren wasn't always the most sensitive guy, but somehow, it didn't seem very tactful to take Saiki back to the cafe he'd had a panic attack at just the other day.

It was why he had spent a lot of last night, after he got done freaking the fuck out over the dump truck of Saiki's emotions and home life, searching for the perfect place to take him. 

Aren had really been hoping, okay? The rational part of him had kept reminding him that this plan probably wouldn't come to fruition, even if Saiki decided he still liked him. He couldn't blame the poor kid for not wanting to skip school or anything, especially when it seemed like Saiki did everything in his power to fly under the radar. 

But Aren still owed Saiki a coffee jelly. Several, actually. And Aren didn't like breaking his promises. 

But there had been too many options. Aren liked keeping his choice range small because he ran the risk of getting overwhelmed and taking too long. 

Taking too long used to end in pain for him. And even though Aren didn't live that life anymore, he still felt the familiar hum of tension in his shoulders, making him hyper-aware of his surroundings. 

Just in case.

All he had really narrowed the decision down to was a goddamn cafe that sold coffee jelly. But there were quite a few in Hidariwakibari, and Aren started feeling his eyes glaze over ten minutes into looking. 

It hadn't been working. Aren didn't really do things like research, at least not the type online. He had begun to think that he should ask his old homies, or even just expose himself and ask Saiki straight out, when an idea had hit him. 

It had seemed perfect at the time, but now that they were standing in front of the building, he was beginning to realize the connotations of this little outing.

Was it weird to bring your friend to a cat cafe? Of course not. People hung out at them all the time. After all, what was better than being with your homies? 

Being with them  and  a bunch of kitty cats, obviously.

It was normal to go out with someone like this. It didn't mean anything.

Aren felt his palms begin to sweat.

Oh, screw this. He needed to get over himself. After all, Saiki seemed fine, right?

Aren looked at the smaller boy to confirm his beliefs and had to bite back a laugh. A pretty, short-haired tortoiseshell was staring straight at Saiki, who was looking right back with a cannily similar expression. 

The cat gave a slow blink. Saiki gave one back.

"Do you like cats, Saiki?" Aren asked. 

"Not particularly. I don't mind them."

…Right. Maybe Aren had just imagined the little exchange of kitty kisses. "I hope you're okay with them being with us while we eat," he said. Aren probably should have checked beforehand, ugh.

"I already told you," Saiki responded, turning back to face him with that piercing expression. "I don't mind."

Aren's head jabbered uselessly about intense, pink-haired pretty boys and cafe dates. Thankfully, he was pretty sure his face didn't change, and his voice didn't crack when he said, "Alright! Great."

Saiki blinked slowly with lidded eyes. Aren's heart pounded. 

"Are we gonna…" Saiki asked awkwardly, motioning to the entrance. 

"Oh. Shit! Yes, yes, let's do that," Aren agreed rapidly, pulling the door and holding it open for the boy. 

Saiki's expression didn't change much, but the look in his eyes softened slightly before he walked in. A few cats padded up to greet them, some with their tails straight up and other's curled at the tips. 

"Hi, welcome!" The cashier called. A cat echoed her with a loud meow, and Aren couldn't fight his smile. 

"You go change, okay? I'll order for us." Aren told Saiki, already pulling out his wallet. 

Saiki said nothing but went in the direction of the restrooms anyways, aided by the sign with some little paw prints on them. A large, fluffy white kitty followed him, making curious chirps all the while. 

Looks like someone decided they liked Saiki. 

Same little buddy, same.

Stepping carefully around the little felines eyeing him curiously, Aren made his way over to the worker and smiled politely. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she smiled back. "What can I get you?"

Aren rattled off his planned order, courtesy of their online menu, and stood by the register to wait. 

There weren't many other people here, just a professional-looking woman nursing a coffee and a man watching over two small children, who were playing with a group of cats and giggling. The sound of their laughter made his chest feel warm and fuzzy, the way it always did whenever he saw little kids getting to be- well, little kids. 

Aren wanted that. He wanted to protect their innocence and help them grow, no matter how cliche it might seem. 

He received his order and thanked the worker before turning away to find an area to sit. The sound of the white cat's happy noises returned, the only indication that Saiki had finished. 

Aren grinned and turned, ready to gift him the sweet treats-

And stopped short.

Saiki stood in front of him, also silent. He turned his head to the side and fiddled nervously, obviously nervous, with one of the straps on his shoulder.

Some distant part of Aren felt bad because he knew he was staring, but he couldn't- it just- 

How could someone be so fucking  cute!?

Saiki was wearing overalls, which was adorable in of itself, but they were a charming, pastel purple. They complimented his hot pink hair and made Aren think of sugar and strawberries, not helping his thoughts about Saiki looking sweet enough to eat.

Aren was used to losing his cool, but not over something like- like this. 

Evidently, Saiki had finally had enough of his ogling because he crossed his arms and faced Aren head-on. His mouth twisted into a displeased pucker, and he glared into Aren's eyes with knitted brows. "What? What's wrong?"

How did one put into words the desire to pick someone up and swing them around and maybe squeeze them close without seeming like a creep? Was this cute aggression? Was that what this was?

Saiki's face bloomed pink in that attractive blush. He had been doing that a lot lately, hadn't he?

Aren couldn't say he minded, though. Not one bit. 

"Aha," he finally chuckled nervously. "Nothing! I- you know, just-"

Okay, maybe it was time to bail. Aren was only human, after all.

"I got our stuff, so you can pick a table while I change out of my uniform," Aren babbled. "You can pick a table, and just-"

Saiki was wearing pink platform shoes, and Aren knew they were platforms because his forehead was the perfect height for him to plant a kiss on, and  wow , was it hot in here? It felt very hot all of a sudden. He should change now because it felt like his collar was choking him for some reason.

"I'm just gonna go change," Aren finally sighed, handing the bag of confectionaries to the boy and slinking away with mild shame.

Haha,  hoooo boy , Aren wouldn't be forgetting that reaction for a while.

The restroom was small with a single toilet, so Aren could lock the door and simply wallow in peace without someone coming in. Which was good because he  really  needed to wallow for a moment. 

He gripped the sink and folded himself over it slightly before letting a quiet groan slip through his mouth. 

Aren didn't know why he was reacting this way. Sure, Saiki was the cutest thing he'd ever fucking seen, and he wanted to squish his cheeks and ruffle his hair, and maybe sometimes his face got hot around the boy, but-

He'd never lost his head when it came to romance or sex. Thankfully, the latter still rang true, but the former?

Yikes. 

Aren had it  bad . 

He finally straightened up, took off his glasses, and turned the water to cold to splash his burning face.

Aren took Saiki out to make him feel better, to get him out of the house and into the world. That didn't include flirting, or staring, or daydreaming, or any of the other things he wanted to do. 

Aren had to keep his head. It should be easy, and yet, it wasn't. 

Argh, he needed to change. Aren would stop thinking about it for now, at least. 

He was halfway through pulling on his shirt when he realized he was probably missing Saiki eating his beloved coffee jelly. 

Needless to say, his resolve to not moon over Saiki was obviously quickly broken, and a thread or two was torn in Aren's sudden haste to get dressed. 

When Aren stepped out, it took a minute to find Saiki, but it made total sense when he finally pinpointed him. Saiki had retreated to a small lounge area that had a number of soft cushions that the cats were lying on. The table was close to the floor, so Saiki was kneeling, looking attentively at the white cat as though he was listening to them speak. 

Saiki looked so comfy and cozy, especially in his cute fit. Aren felt another rush of that overwhelming affection that made him want to clutch his chest.

It was made even better by the sparkles and happy smile on Saiki's face as he turned away from the cat and slid his spoonful of jelly into his mouth. 

Aren walked up slowly so he didn't scare either Saiki or the kitties and plopped himself across from the boy. "Enjoying yourself?" He teased.

Saiki hummed happily and nodded, taking another bite. He swallowed and looked up, the shine evident in his eyes as he said, "Thank you, Kuboyasu."

Oh hell, Aren was never going to get over this fucking crush. Not when those words  still  made his heart skip. 

For a while, Aren got to sip his coffee and watch as Saiki devoured his gifts, trying not to obsess over how pink Saiki's lips were or how plump they looked sliding over the spoon. 

Saiki licked his lips, and Aren tried not to spontaneously combust. 

Eventually, the jelly was consumed, and Aren was finally freed from the hypnotic spell of Saiki's unadulterated joy. With his attention freed up, Saiki was finally free to pay attention to his little friend, who was beginning to nose at Saiki's knee. 

Saiki stared at them as the fluffy beast made a small  mrrp  and headbutted Saiki's thigh. They nuzzled at his leg for a moment longer before flopping over dramatically, settling on their back to stretch out their tummy. 

"I wanna poke it," Aren admitted, scooting over and peeking down at the forbidden expanse of the cat's belly. 

"Do not poke it," Saiki replied.

"I'm gonna poke it," Aren affirmed. Saiki shook his head with a quiet "good grief," but Aren was a man on a mission. He moved slowly, readying a single finger to touch the soft fluff.

This might end with him getting scratched to shit, but that didn't matter. Aren had scars from far less noble causes than the one calling to him right now. 

The cat stared at him with big eyes, going back and forth between looking at Aren's face and the descending digit. Finally, Aren got close enough to give a gentle poke to their tummy. 

Haha, squishy! 

Despite having watched Aren the entire time, their eyes still went somehow wider in shock. Maybe over Aren's sheer ballsiness. Whatever the case, they flipped themselves over and gave Saiki a look of disbelief, clearly asking, 'Can you believe this guy?'

A quiet noise escaped Saiki. Aren turned, concern budding on his tongue, but he found himself stopping short. 

Saiki was clutching one of the free cushions to himself, hiding half his face. His shoulders shook, and he ducked away at Aren's prying gaze, but he wasn't fast enough to hide the crinkle in the corner of his eyes.

Saiki's shoulders continued to jump even as his ears turned pink, and Aren's heart must have melted because there was a warm, gooey sensation pooling in his stomach. 

Saiki was laughing. And it was the most beautiful thing Aren had ever seen. 

After a few euphoric seconds, Saiki's laughter died down, and he turned forward again, lowering the cushion so Aren could see his whole face. "Good grief, I must be pretty tired if I'm laughing in public," he sighed, his lips still curled up at the corners. 

Oh? That was curious. "You don't like laughing in public?" Aren asked.

"Ah, well," Saiki trailed off. It was fascinating, the things Aren had learned to read in the kid's expression. Right now, there was an edge of embarrassment in it. "I don't like my smile," he admitted. 

“I do,” Aren blurted out. 

Ah. Well, that was embarrassing. 

Aren felt the emotion swell in him, making his body prickle with hot flashes that were surely making themselves known on his face. He was sure Saiki would say something, that he would crack a dry joke about his apathy towards Aren's opinion. Then Aren could laugh it off and pretend his brain wasn't jittering at the thought of being shut down so quickly by the other. 

…

Oh God, this was worse. Saiki wasn't saying  anything . 

Haha, that was fine. Aren would just fucking explode, and everything would be alright!

With a swallow, Aren gathered up his courage and forced himself to look over at Saiki. 

'Oh,'  he blinked and swallowed again.  'Oh wow.'

Even despite the shy duck of his head, Saiki was looking at him with shimmering, hopeful stars in his eyes, rivaling those he'd had eating his favorite food just a moment ago.

It looked like he couldn't believe Aren, despite how badly he wanted to. 

Well, that just wouldn't do, now would it?

"I'd like to see it more often, even," Aren added, tilting his head to try and catch Saiki's eye. 

From what he could see, Saiki was chewing on his lip, and another of those blessed blushes was forming on his cheeks. He curled into himself more under Aren's stare before he finally ducked under the table. Saiki's arms reached down, and the kitty padded into them, letting him scoop them up and tuck them close to his chest. 

It was a simply adorable sight, watching Saiki cuddle the fluffy, white mass so he could hide his face in the fur. The cat was rumbling loudly, obviously having picked a favorite between Aren and Saiki. The boy buried his face to where Aren could only make out the pink tips of his ears, and Aren felt like he might keel over and pass away at the sight. 

"Thanks," Saiki finally mumbled, stroking the cat despite the awkward position. 

Aren couldn't help it; he laughed, feeling his heart swell in adoration for the boy next to him. Saiki, finally pulling his face away from the kitty, pouted at him. He still knocked his knee against Aren, though, and that was all Aren needed to know that Saiki was content. 

"Let me walk you home?" Kuboyasu asked as Kusuo was saying goodbye to his little white shadow.

(Her name was Lily, apparently short for 'Lily of the Valley,' of all things. People name cats such weird things.)

Good grief, this guy's face was so swaying. Whenever he asked something of Kusuo, those eager eyes and that little hopeful smile dug right into his greatest weakness: saying no to people.

Especially when they made these little selfless requests. Kusuo almost couldn't stand it. 

"Fine," he responded, choosing to look at the kitty purring at him rather than Kuboyasu and his stupid puppy dog eyes. 

'Is that your mate?'  Lily asked, instantly lowering his opinion of her.

'No,'  Kusuo responded.

'Oh. Lots of people come here with their mates.'  She looked at him with lidded eyes, relaxed and sleepy.  'He looks at you the same way they look at each other.'

Kusuo just scowled. Lily continued to purr, placing her dainty little paws on his knees, and he sighed and stroked down her back.  'Yeah, well, your friends seem to like him, too.'  He shot back.

Three cats were cuddling up to him, all of their thoughts humming happily about his warmth. Kusuo flushed as he realized he could confirm the validity of their opinion.

Kuboyasu  was  very warm.

'I like you,'  Lily responded easily, in that simple way usually only animals could; they were free of things like social norms like that.  'I like humans who talk to me.'

Kusuo had found this to be the norm, actually. Animals tended to enjoy being talked to, just the same as humans. 

And him. 

Spending time with Kuboyasu made him feel good. It had made some of his misery fade, and it was easier to breathe with a purring cat nuzzling close to him and the taste of coffee still residing on his tongue. 

He couldn't stay here forever, though. Besides, school would be out soon, and Kusuo didn't want to endure the sudden influx of people. 

'I have to go,'  Kusuo told Lily.

'Hmm, okay. Bye-bye,'  she responded, used to people coming and leaving, definitely from living at a cafe.

Kuboyasu was gently lifting the cats off of him, who were all disappointed at the loss of their comfy heater. They were politer than Amp, though, Kusuo noted with a spark of amusement. 

Kuboyasu held open the door for him yet again, reminding Kusuo of Aiura's comment about his almost-gentleman status. 

That girl…

In the privacy of his own mind, maybe Kusuo could appreciate her. He was feeling soft and vulnerable right now, but it somehow wasn't a horrible feeling.

Usually, Kusuo was annoyed during his walks home. After a loud day at school, the last thing he was looking forward to was time with his nuisances, who were hyped up and eager to hang out after a day of sitting in a chair. 

But Kusuo was feeling as relaxed and sleepy as those cats had been. It was harder to feel paranoid with Kuboyasu at his side because he knew how capable the reformed punk was and knew that Kuboyasu would protect him. 

It wasn't a feeling Kusuo thought he could ever get used to. But it soothed some of chronic hyper-vigilance, a feat in itself. 

Being around Kuboyasu wasn't so bad. And he didn't even mind when the other spoke to him because he didn't expect Kusuo to respond. He seemed to know that Kusuo was listening and knew he couldn't keep up his energy the same way others could. 

Kusuo had been surprised when Kuboyasu had pointed it out, but it was true: Kusuo needed his time away.

People never seemed to understand that. Not even his parents.

Especially not them.

Kusuo closed his eyes, pushing away the cold hurt unfurling his stomach. 

He didn't want to think about that, not right now. 

Thankfully, Kuboyasu's steady voice provided a suitable distraction from his emotions. There was more to read into, like why Kusuo's stomach unknotted when he listened to Kuboyasu speak, but that would probably have an embarrassing answer. So, he wouldn't think about that either. 

It was soothing to let his mind empty of the majority of his anxieties. Like this, Kusuo could pretend he was an ordinary boy, one who was walking home in the company of a friend he liked being around. 

Good grief, how Kusuo wished he could just stay like this, safely tucked away from his overwhelming sadness. 

But it had to end sometime. Kusuo couldn't cling to Kuboyasu forever. 

He wouldn't do that to him.

The sight of his house didn't fill him with the relief it usually did. Instead, it made anxiety flare in his stomach, an abrupt departure from the content haze Kusuo had unknowingly slipped into. 

"Ah, crap," Kuboyasu groaned, smacking his forehead. It worsened the knots in Kusuo's stomach, and he turned to the punk to see what was wrong.

Hopefully, his worry didn't show on Kusuo's face too much.

 "It's nothin' Saiki, I just realized you didn't change back," Kuboyasu frowned. "Will your folks freak out or anythin'?"

"They'd find out anyways when Mr. Matsuzaki called," Kusuo sighed. "It's alright, I-"

Kuboyasu tilted his head attentively. Kusuo forced himself to continue. "I had a lot of fun today. Thank you."

A pleased flush rose on Kuboyasu's cheeks, with a growing smile to match it. "Of course. I care a lot about you, Saiki."

Oh, wow. 

Kusuo's stomach fluttered happily even as his head reeled at the words. He had known that Kuboyasu cared because his thoughts were rife with attentiveness for all his friends. 

But it was different to hear it out loud.

Kusuo didn't think hearing that someone cared for him would make him so giddy and light. 

Kusuo looked down, unsure how to respond. Finally, Kuboyasu took pity on him and placed a warm hand on his shoulder. For once, Kusuo didn't feel the desire to flinch away.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Kuboyasu said, looking at him tenderly.

What had Lily said about the way Kuboyasu looked at him?

Kusuo nodded, telepathy strangely out of his grasp. He felt very…floaty and bubbly right now. It made him feel giggly like he wanted to do something stupid like hug Kuboyasu.

He wouldn't, though. It was just a stray thought. 

Kuboyasu let him go and watched carefully as Kusuo made his way to the front door. Kusuo gave him one last glance, smiling softly at the wave he received, before unlocking the door.

"I'm home," Kusuo called, closing it behind him and bending down to untie his laces. 

Kuboyasu didn't have to worry. His dad might complain about his skipping school, but Kusuo was pretty sure his mom would be thrilled. Of course, he wouldn't push his luck with trying it tomorrow, but Kusuo would most likely be off the hook for the day.

How…nice. As much as he would never admit it out loud, this had been one of the most pleasant days he's had in a very long time. It was rare that he got to relax and just enjoy life. It was especially crazy that something so peaceful wouldn't end on a sour note. 

He should have known it was too good to be true. 

"Mom?" Kusuo called again. "...Dad?" 

Why weren't they answering? They were here, Kusuo could hear them. Were they ignoring him? Why would they do that?

"Oh, hi, Ku-baby! We're upstairs!" His mom called down. 

Oh, well, at least Kusuo wasn't being ignored. But why were they upstairs? His mom, at least, was always-

Kusuo went still and felt his heart drop as he registered what his mom and dad were thinking.

No, no, no, no, no,  no-

Not him. Not  this  guy.

Kusuo couldn't wait. He teleported up to his parents, praying he was somehow wrong, that he wasn't really  here-

"Kusuoooo~" Kusuke cooed, grinning slyly. He was seated on the guest bed in front of their parents, who had turned to look at him in startlement at Kusuo's sudden entrance. He couldn't bring himself to care because his brother was here, and his head was reeling, his chest ached, and his stomach twisted like he was going to throw up. "How is my darling baby brother? Did you miss your big brother?"

What a fucking  pain .

Chapter Text

Good grief, Kusuo couldn't just have  one  day, could he?

There was an almost childish anger building in his chest. Usually, Kusuo tried to at least pretend as though he was above such feelings, but right now, he was hard-pressed to try and be mature. The thought made him feel so spoiled, but-

"Thank you, Mom," Kusuke smiled, taking the offered plate. His voice had taken on that simpering, innocent tone he always used with their parents. Kusuo looked down at his own plate and clenched his jaw.

It just wasn't fair. 

Kusuo already knows how this will go. There's a peculiar script that Kusuke's visits never fail to follow. Kusuo isn't sure why exactly. He just knows that it does, and the familiarity offers comfort in an otherwise awful situation. 

Kusuo suspects that part of it is due to his brother's meddling, but he has to admit that his own stupid softness shares the blame too. He can already feel himself slipping into the first role. 

It's a chink in Kusuo's armor, one that makes his usual steadfast apathy crumble apart. Seeing his brother interact with his parents, Kusuo can feel the weakness blooming in him. It tempers some of his irritation and morphs it into the worst possible thing it could be.

Hope. As weary as he feels, hope rises readily in Kusuo's chest.

It's so stupid, but that tiny part of Kusuo reprimands him for his coldness. It tells him he's being unfair to Kusuke by assuming the worst, that maybe,  just maybe, his brother isn't here out of some ulterior motive for once.

Good grief, he could be such a sentimental idiot. Four years didn't change any of Kusuke's goals. Obviously, a couple of months wouldn't either.

"I'm so glad you visited, Big Ku," His mom hummed happily. She set down another plate for her husband and began fixing one for herself. "It's always so nice to have all of my boys together."  

Kusuo fiddled uncomfortably with his fork, twirling it between his fingers. 

On a base level, he knew Kusuke was watching practically his every move. Almost nothing he did wouldn't have his brother's eyes on them, and Kusuo compensated by ensuring he was as hidden from nearby cameras as possible.

Kusuo would let the invasions of his privacies slide, but that didn't mean he would make it easy for his brother.

Or, he usually didn't make it easy for Kusuke. Kusuo had done a frankly awful job of keeping himself sequestered away at the cafe. Worse still, he'd had a second breakdown that same day, in his bedroom, of all places. 

As much as Kusuo thought of his room as his sanctuary, seeing Kusuke face-to-face hammered in the fact that it truly wasn't. Not really. His brother's cameras had a perfect view of every nook and cranny. There was nowhere that Kusuo could go, nowhere he could hide, that Kusuke wouldn't be able to see.

Part of the awfulness of Kusuke's visits stemmed from this fact. Seeing his brother really set in the fact that he knew. He knew everything that had been going on in Kusuo's life and could weaponize any of it. 

And, Kusuo noted with a growing sense of dread, there was a lot to pick from.

Something weak and plaintive shook in his chest. Kusuke was going to be so mad. There was no way he wouldn't be. Kusuo knew how enraged his brother could get when he stepped outside the boundaries he'd forced upon him.

Kusuo cut into his steak with bit too much aggression. Thankfully, nothing broke, so he simply popped his steak into his mouth and easily tore through it. 

So what if Kusuke got mad? It wasn't his good griefing life! Kusuo could do as he pleased! He was the most powerful being in existence! Above everyone and everything! He-

"Oh? Ku Baby, your school is calling me!"

…He probably wouldn't get in trouble with his mom for skipping school.

Fingers crossed and all of that.

Aren has experienced a lot of things in his time. But, you know-

"Where were you today, Aren?" Shun asked, homework temporarily set aside to give Aren those big, curious eyes of his.

Feeling like a giddy schoolgirl wasn't exactly one of them. 

But it's exactly how Aren was currently feeling. Whenever Aren thought back to his earlier outing, shimmering bubbles welled up in him, making him feel off-kilter in the best way possible. He gets why lovestruck girls in movies are always shown kicking their feet and giggling thoughtlessly now. Aren kinda wanted to do that, too.

Points to them because this feeling was hitting him like a goddamn semi-truck. Aren couldn't imagine having to wade through this overflow of emotions with more than one guy. 

"Aren?" Shun asked again. Now he wasn't even pretending to do his work. He sat up, baby face full of worry, and questioned more insistently, "Everything's okay, right?"

"Yeah, Homeslice," Aren reassured, giving the small boy his best cocky grin. "Everything's perfect."

And somehow, it felt like it was. 

It was funny. Just last night, Aren hadn't been able to sleep, too stressed about whether Saiki would want to see him ever again. Now, he's riding cloud fucking nine, mooning over how delectable his crush had looked, over how much Aren had made him smile and relax.

Okay, sure. It hadn't been a date. Aren knows that, okay?

But in the privacy of his own head, Aren would pretend. Just to get more of those fluffy, elated clouds that filled his head and made him grin.

"Aren," Shun frowned accusingly. "You're not telling the truth."

"I am!" Aren insisted, straightening up from his slouch on the floor. 

"Well, not the whole truth, then!" Shun huffed. He hit his bedspread, then flopped over with a dramatic sigh. "Just…" 

Aren waited as patiently as he could for Shun to continue. "It's not anything I did, right?" The smaller boy asked.

Aren felt his heart squeeze at the quiet insecurity in his best friend's voice. "Ah, geez, Shun, of course not. It's just that-" 

He hesitated for a moment, suddenly unsure of his words. Saiki was so private; would he really want his business aired out like this?

One look at Shun's anxious expression and his mind was quickly made up. Aren's little homie was practically vibrating from stress, and he knew the chuunibiyou would keep quiet about this. 

And besides, Aren needed to gush about this, or else he might start vibrating from the sheer stress of it. 

Aren groaned and pushed his face into his hands. It was hot to the touch, and he couldn't bite back his smile at the realization. "Shit, man," he laughed breathlessly. He ran his hands through his hair and leaned back with a blissful sigh. "You can't tell anyone, okay?"

Shun nodded, face becoming serious. "Okay, Aren."

"Okay. I was out with Saiki."

Silence. Then, tentatively, Shun said, "Okay...?" His eyes flickered around confusedly before they settled back on Aren. "...You know you'll always be my left-hand man, and I trust your judgment above practically everyone else's, but I'm not sure why you were freaking out over that."

"First, I wasn't freaking out, okay?" Aren huffed playfully. "And secondly, we went to a cat cafe."

"...Cute. Alright."

"Me and Saiki."

"Mhm."

"Alone. Together."

"Aren-"

"He wore a cute outfit. I paid for him. We skipped school to hang out and go to a cafe. We spent hours there."

Aren could see the gears turning in Shun's head, as rusty as they were. After a moment, Shun gave him a piercing stare, trying to dissect him on sight alone. Aren tried not to groan. As Saiki might say, good grief. This guy wouldn't recognize romance if it jumped him in an alleyway while wearing a nametag.

Finally, Shun said, "Geez, dude. You make it sound like a date."

Ding ding ding!

Ah, there they were. Aren burned fire-hydrant red and rubbed his neck shyly.

"OH MY GOD?"  Shun screamed. 

"Why did you skip school, honey?" Kusuo's mom asked, eyes soft and concerned. 

Against his expectations, his dad didn't seem particularly upset. "Maybe he's getting teased?" He offered, taking another bite of his steak. 

Kusuo pushed his lips together and thought. Maybe he wouldn't have to tell them why he was out after all. Reflecting on it now, it was honestly kinda embarrassing to skip school to hang out with a guy. 

But, he reminded himself, his parents didn't know about his little interest in Kuboyasu. Heteronormativity would work in his favor here; even if this was the one person in years Kusuo had outwardly shown a desire to hang out with, they would just be seen as very good and close friends. 

Good grief, it was a relief Kusuo hadn't done something like this with Aiura. He'd have never heard the end of it, especially not from his dad. There were only so many references to her bust size that Kusuo could take before he threw something at the man.

Before Kusuo could say anything, though, Kusuke jumped in to control the conversation. "Maybe he went out with someone?" He suggested blandly, giving Kusuo a glance with his soulless eyes. 

Trepidation coiled in Kusuo's stomach. What was his brother after?

His dad barked out a laugh, and Kusuo forced down all of his ugly thoughts that rose up in response. "Do you really think someone would wanna hang out with him all day?"

Kusuke didn't seem bothered by their dad's reaction. Instead, he just looked over expectantly. "I don't know. Kusuo?" His brother asked pointedly. 

Appealing to his pettiness, huh? Definitely a viable plan. Kusuo would admire it if he didn't hate this guy. Still, it never did any harm to weigh his options.

Kusuke already seemed to know about Kuboyasu, as well as his parents. What was the harm in admitting this? His parents likely wouldn't pick up on any connotations, and he was sure that Kusuke had already been foaming at the mouth at the sight of their little rendevous. The damage had already been done.

Besides, Kusuo really was very petty. He always got a kick out of proving his dad wrong.

"I did go out with someone, actually."

His dad, who had just begun to sip his drink, choked. His mom squealed over her husband's coughing. "Oh, Little Ku, that's so wonderful! Was it little Kaido? Ooh, or Nendo?"

Kusuo looked shyly down at his food while trying to pretend he wasn't feeling shy, just disinterested. "The boy that came by this morning. Kuboyasu," he answered as coolly as possible.

He looked up just in time to catch his mom's beaming smile melting into something gentler and full of pride. It made Kusuo want to preen. "I'm so happy that you're making new friends, Ku," she whispered, her voice choking up from sheer joy.

Friends…

"Yeah," Kusuo admitted softly, feeling his chest warm.

His mom returned to her meal, and Kusuo was ready to do so too, when he caught his brother's eye.

The contentedness he'd felt for all of a few seconds was rapidly fizzing away as he looked at his brother. Shock had widened Kusuke's eyes, but it was rapidly being replaced with a steely fury that made the hair on Kusuo's neck rise.

The second act of Kusuke's visits was about to commence then.

After riding out the resulting Sora explosion from Shun's screeching, he and Aren had made the executive decision to evacuate the house. Now, they were stuck walking around the neighborhood, trying to figure out what to do next.

Being outside was a pretty good thing, actually. Shun felt like he'd just gone on an amusement park ride, one of those that went upside down and stayed that way for several loop-de-loops; there was a thrilling feeling of joy coursing through him, but he still felt a bit faint. Fresh air would do him some good. 

And it apparently did Aren some good, too, as his face only lost its red glow once they'd stepped outside.

Personally, Shun didn't think red and purple went together particularly well. But hopefully, Saiki did. 

His initial shock aside, the more Shun thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Saiki and Aren were the strongest leaders in his righteous army. Together they'd be unstoppable!

Also, there was the fact that from what Shun could tell, they suited each other well. Saiki was careful and trepidatious, while Aren was quick and occasionally rash. They'd balance each other out nicely. Maybe Aren would even be able to bring Saiki out of his shell.

That'd be nice. Shun wouldn't mind seeing Saiki smile more.

Determination ignited, he cleared his throat, looking up at his left-hand man. "Soooo," he broke the silence, making Aren twitch. "Do you have any plans?"

"Plans?" Aren asked. Since they'd left Shun's bedroom, his expression had changed from a sweet, puppy-love-struck one to that of a scowling delinquent. Thankfully, Shun knew intimately — from lots and lots of experience — that Aren's 'scary face' usually just meant he was experiencing an emotion he couldn't quite handle. 

Which happened pretty frequently, but hey. Shun was sure that there wasn't much lovey-dovey behavior happening as a gang leader. He'd cut his best friend some slack. 

"Yeah. You know, you already went on one date, didn't you?" Shun tried to lead. He wasn't sure how successful he was based on Aren's non-reaction. "What's next?"

"It wasn't a date."

Skrrrt. 

Hold on. Let's take a step back.

Shun gave an empty smile. "What." When Aren just kinda flailed his hands in response, the smaller boy released a groan. "Aren, that sounded like a date. When has Saiki ever skipped school?"

"When that gyaru transferred," Aren offered readily. 

Shun blinked. "Okayyy, ignoring the fact that you knew that off the top of your head, that should tell you something, right?"

"Look, Shun," Aren sighed. "I know I was making it sound like a date but that's just 'cause I was excited. Besides," he frowned. "I don't think Saiki is into that kind of thing."

…Oh my God. "Aren, he dressed up. When, in the literal years we've known him, has Saiki ever done that?"

Aren made an odd sight right now. That pants-wetting, terrifying glower on Aren's face, coupled with him poking his index fingers together, was sending some pretty significantly mixed signals. "I'm not sure…?" He trailed off.

Shun felt his eye twitch. Before he could get after his left-hand more, Aren suddenly blurted out, "This won't go anywhere, Shun! It didn't mean anything. Besides, I'm 100% sure that Teruhashi herself is trying to woo him, so what chance do I stand?"

There was silence for a moment. Aren's palm hit his forehead, and Shun's resulting yowl scared the nearby birds off their perches. 

Kusuke was trying his best to keep his bubbling rage from showing on his face. Based on his parent's current unconcerned behavior, he was doing a successful job.

Hard to say, though. Those two were both always so far away from reality that Kusuke was sure he could be poking fun at Kusuo directly, and they wouldn't even notice.

No, the only one who seemed to know Kusuke was angry was his darling baby brother. Which worked out quite well in his favor, actually! Letting Kusuo stew in his anxiety — which he definitely had, regardless of whether he would admit it — often made him even more pliable to Kusuke's prodding. 

The boy knew he'd done something wrong. And regardless of whether Kusuo knew what he'd done, he was probably driving himself crazy trying to figure out what Big Brother would do in response. 

Good. Kusuo wasn't supposed to admit to having friends. That wasn't like him. He was supposed to be unselfish enough to know that letting people get close was akin to signing their death warrants. 

It had to be that damned mutt's fault. In just two days, he'd managed to reverse some of the lock and key Kusuke held his sweet brother under. Kusuo had let the boy hold him, had allowed him to throw him around, and had even lured him into skipping school to go out. Alone.

Kusuke knew Aren Kuboyasu didn't have pure intentions with his innocent little brother. 

It was revolting. What was worse was that Kusuo wasn't discouraging it. In fact, he was adding fuel to the fire, what with the way the boy had clung to Kuboyasu like some cheap whore, pressing into him, nuzzling at him-

Kusuke could feel his fork bending slightly under his grasp. He relaxed his grip and tried to focus on finishing his meal. 

It didn't work. He was fixated on the issue at hand almost immediately once more, picking at it like a long-dried scab.

Kusuo didn't cry. No matter what Kusuke did to him, Kusuo had never cried for him. The fact that he did so in front of this conniving vermin? Twice?

Kusuke had never been so livid. The only reason he'd kept his cool and hadn't immediately concocted plans to eviscerate the animal was because of how adorable his baby brother had looked with damp cheeks flushed from crying. 

He'd saved the image and stared at it for a long time, contemplating what to do next.

Obviously, Kusuo's new pet dog would only be causing more and more issues the longer he stuck around. So, the obvious solution was that Kusuke needed to be the responsible older brother and put him down. 

It was for the best, really. Kusuo would growl and snap, but in the end, he would give in. Deep down, his brother knew he wasn't responsible enough to make these kinds of decisions for himself. He was too emotional, too fragile, and too susceptible to the slightest of nudges to be smart about it.

He was such a pushover. It worked in Kusuke's favor most of the time, but it was putting everything he'd instilled in Kusuo at risk now. 

His poor baby brother. It was a good thing he was so cute because otherwise, his idiocy would piss Kusuke off. Now he just cooed over Kusuo's ditziness and took care of all the important things.

Maybe, if Kusuke was really lucky, he'd get to see how pretty Kusuo's eyes looked when he cried, up close and in person. A thrill went through him at the idea.

Kusuo's nervous energy grew as they all began to finish dinner. Kusuke could see it in the way he glanced at their mom more, likely unknowingly to himself. It was a pitiful sight, really; a little boy asking for help from the one person who had never scorned him. 

How laughable. Kusuke loved his mom, but they both knew she'd never be able to help Kusuo. She wouldn't be able to understand the complexity of their relationship, of how deeply Kusuke revered his brother. 

Nobody could understand that. 

Kusuo told his parents goodnight, and Kusuke watched as he hesitated before their mom. Evidently, habit won out because he was pulling away and slinking upstairs. 

That was his cue then, wasn't it?

"I'm gonna head to bed. Goodnight mom, night dad," he smiled. He pressed a kiss to his mom's cheek and headed upstairs, walking past his room for the night and instead venturing to his little brother's.

The door creaked open, and Kusuo was sitting obediently on his bed, waiting for his big brother. 

Kusuke couldn't help but smile. He really was such a good boy, wasn't he?

"Would that really work?" Aren wondered out loud. They had wandered their way to a park, and now he was sitting next to his little homie, watching as he scribbled something onto a sheet of notebook paper. 

"Why wouldn't it?" Shun asked. He tilted his head, and his hair fell over his eyes. It made him look like a scruffy little dog, and Aren couldn't resist the urge to ruffle his messy locks. Shun made a yip-like sound, and Aren laughed in delight. 

All of his emotions from earlier, as pleasant as they were, had been overwhelming him. It was like standing in a rushing river on a hot day; as enjoyable as it felt, it still threatened to knock him off his feet. 

Talking with Shun had helped wrangle it down into something manageable. His pink airy feelings no longer threatened to lift him off the ground. The smaller boy was also very good at working things out logically.

Well, once you got his mind back down to earth, that is.

"I hope you're right, Holmes," Aren sighed, smiling down at the written plan. It was silly and childish, even complete with two stick figures holding hands at the bottom. Both of them had giggled stupidly as Shun drew them.

It was stupid, but seeing a path to Saiki's heart written out in the blue pen Shun had found in his pocket gave Aren hope. 

"He's already let you take him out once, Aren!" Shun reminded him happily. "During school, no less! Has Teruhahsi gotten to do that yet?"

"No," Aren replied, feeling his confidence blooming. "She hasn't."

"Exactly. I'll admit, I was a little worried when you said Terhuhashi was also vying for Saiki's locked away heart," Shun explained dramatically, pressing his fingers into his skull and tilting his head back. "As formidable an opponent as you are on the battlefield, her ability to charm holds no bounds."

Aren rolled his eyes fondly. "Tell me about it."

"But!" Shun exclaimed, tossing out his hand and pointing at Aren. "You, my dear companion, are a knight in shining armor who has already softened the prince's heart! With you continued chivalry, soon you will sweep him off of his feet and confess your feelings under the moonlight!"

"He's more like a princess than anythin'," Aren snorted. Shun gave him a pout.

"Don't be mean, Aren."

"I'm not! It's not an insult, I swear. Well, kind of, but it's not for the reasons you think."

"Ugh, whatever," Shun groaned, obviously disinterested now. "Main point is, this is something that could actually happen."

"Don't sound too confident there, Shun," Aren chuckled, tilting his head back to look up at the setting sun. It was already getting dark; he needed to walk the kid back. 

"You know what I mean, dude," Shun huffed. "Come on, Mom will kill me if I stay out any later."

True that. But even the imminent threat of Mrs. Kaido's scolding wasn't enough to pull Aren off of the high he was on. Aren would try to get on a first-name basis with Saiki first. And amazingly enough, the idea didn't seem so lofty and outlandish. 

Aren shoved his hands into his pockets and grinned.

Hope was blooming in his chest. And what a beautiful feeling it was.

"So," Kusuke said as he shut the door behind him. Kusuo tried to quell the sudden nausea that rose at the click. "Your little ants have finally breached friend territory. My congratulations."

God, Kusuo suddenly felt so small. It was like a switch had been flipped. He was all high and mighty until Kusuke crept in to remind him of the truth.

Kusuo was a monster. Not something that should be appreciated. 

"When did that happen?" His brother questioned. His voice was bland, and the question was polite, but his eyes pierced through Kusuo like daggers. 

He wasn't sure if that question was meant to be rhetorical or not. Kusuo decided to take his chances and stayed silent. 

It ended up being the right option because Kusuke was on a roll, hissing venom at Kusuo. "It's that stupid dog of yours fault, isn't it? I saw as you bawled into his arms like a little child. Were you feeling greedy these past few days? You know very well he wouldn't give you a shoulder to cry on if you told him what you could do for him."

Normally, Kusuo could distance himself from these conversations. He could turn the world gray and watery, listening but not registering the things his brother was spitting at him until it was safer. The anger would come later, but Kusuo would always shut down at the moment like he wasn't capable of sending Kusuke flying with a flick of his hand. 

Not this time. This time, Kusuke is digging at a part of him that is so raw and aching that it keeps forcibly dragging him to the present. The topic of the boy feels like exposed nerves whenever Kusuo even thinks about it, and right now, Kusuke's words are dragging sandpaper over them. 

Kusuo couldn't stop the denial that slips out, saying, "He wouldn't do that."

Kusuke's eyes slid over to his, swampy green and suffused with rage. "Oh? How are you so sure? I saw him push you around. I saw you letting him."

"It wasn't like that," Kusuo snapped back, but his telepathy clamped shut as his brother snarled. 

"I always forget how much of an  idiot  you can be. You let dad push you around like that, you know. Because you know you deserve it. And what happens if you tell Kuboyasu about your powers, hm?" 

Kusuke grinned, looking deranged and sadistic. "He'll start demanding things from you, too. And then what? I know you, Kusuo. You won't give this mutt the same patience you give dad. You'll snap and have a temper tantrum, and then where will you be? All the way back to third grade."

Kusuo stared at his brother, hardly breathing, and Kusuke leaned down to get at eye level with him. Some distant part of Kusuo yelled at him to move back, to get away from this creep, but he couldn't.

Kusuo just couldn't move. 

"Back to me," Kusuke smiled. "And as much as I love my baby brother, I think I want to spare the inconvenience of cleaning up your mess. You'd even have to move from those friends of yours, wouldn't you?"

Kusuo couldn't move; why was he just sitting there?

"Well, Kusuo?" Kusuke prodded. "Wouldn't you?"

This wasn't a rhetorical question. 

Kusuo forced himself to look Kusuke in the eye and ground out, "Yes."

Kusuke smiled approvingly and patted Kusuo on the head. Kusuo tried not to do anything like gagging or recoiling or snapping his fucking arm. "You're such a good boy, Kusuo. I knew you'd understand."

He drew back, sighing happily. "Oh, and Kusuo?"

Kusuo dragged his eyes up to look at his brother. He didn't seem very happy.

"Stay away from that dog," Kusuke gritted out through his smiling mouth. "Or I'll speed things along and reveal your secret to him. Okay?"

Kusuke didn't need an answer. He was strolling out of Kusuo's room, leaving him seated on the bed to breathe out of fear of hyperventilating. 

A while later found Kusuo curled up in his bed, comforted tucked to his nose. Exhaustion swirled in him from his near meltdown, and of course, now his brain decided to detach him from reality.  

There was act two then, Kusuo noted apathetically, distantly noting how wet his breath sounded. 

The dashing of Kusuo's hopes.

Chapter Text

It took Kusuo a very long time to get out of bed after that.

He had been curled up under his comforter for almost an hour. In his bed, Kusuo was warm and safe. Outside his room lurked people that would instantly sense his weakness and dig their fingers into his newly-exposed soft spots. But in here, Kusuo was alone. He could sleep. Even if it wasn’t restful, and his dreams were plagued with premonitions and the anxieties of others and himself, it was still a respite from the constant motion and chaos of his day-to-day life.

But the thought of going to bed without going through his nightly routine made disgust coil sharply in his stomach. He’d be forgoing a shower, not brushing his teeth, flossing, or even using mouthwash. He would keep his gloves from the day before on, even though they were dirty. 

Germs didn’t tend to fester on him very well, even before he lit them up with his pyrokinesis. But still, he’d be dirty if he didn’t clean himself up. He’d be filthy. 

Giving up on his routine, all because Kusuke decided to show his face, felt like a loss in itself. Kusuo refused to let anything else be taken from him. He allowed his brother to dictate so many other aspects of his life and just took the treatment lying down. He didn’t want this to be something else Kusuke had a say in.

Good grief, he was so fucking pathetic. 

Finally, Kusuo dragged himself out of bed, gathering his clothes mechanically before zombie-ing over to the bathroom.

Kusuo clicked the lock and turned the knob on the shower before standing in front of the mirror. Sure of his isolation, including any prying cameras, Kusuo released a shaky sigh and let himself remove his glasses. 

And it was just…him. As always, it was weird to see his unobstructed face. Right now, though, it was even harder to try and work through his usual disconnect from himself. Kusuo placed a hand on his jaw and idly traced down the line of it, marveling at the fact that he could not only feel the rubbery texture of his fingertips, but that he looked so human.

Except for, of course…

He blinked, watching as his lashes fluttered. His purple eyes, unnatural and freakish, bore back into him. Without his glasses, it was even easier to see how soulless they looked. Dead. Inhuman.

Kuboyasu thought this was attractive. 

Kusuo tilted his face, fascinated with the way the skin reflected the light. He tapped at his cheek with a fingertip, and it dipped in response to the pressure. 

Astonishing, really, how fragile and mortal he seemed at first glance. Weak and pliable. 

Maybe he was those last two, actually.

Kusuo almost didn’t realize he was stripping until the clothes hit the floor. Now, he could analyze his whole form, from the shape of his eyes and the bow of his lips to the slight dip of his waist and the shift of his chest as he exhaled.

Attractive, huh?

Kusuo continued to stare and stare and stare. He stared for quite a long time, but it certainly didn’t feel like it. It felt like short breaths and looks of repulsion, of raised voices and restrictions and constant surveillance, of “Where would you be? Back to me” and helplessness and suffocation that- 

That in what seemed like just a moment, the mirror had fogged up, obscuring his appearance from his scrutiny. 

Kusuo couldn’t understand their attraction. All he felt when he looked at himself was a deep well of disgust, and perhaps if Kusuo was human, it would bubble up through the cracks on his skin and split him apart until it didn’t matter what he thought anymore. 

So, remember the whole walking to school together thing? Yeah, it wasn't just an excuse to take Saiki out; Aren hadn't planned on that being a one-time thing. He hadn't worded it that way to Kuniharu and would shamelessly take full advantage of this fact and continue indulging himself.

And Aren would actually take him to school today, too.

When he knocked on the front door, Aren expected Mrs. Saiki to open it. He'd braced himself for an impending scolding for taking her little boy out and infringing on him with his delinquent ways. 

Perhaps he was a bit too used to Mrs. Kaido, actually.

To Aren's surprise, though, what he got was Saiki himself practically ripping the door open. Automatically, Aren's heart skipped a beat at the sight of his pretty boy crush, and his mouth instantly formed a smile. But, it was quickly falling away as he took note of the broiling irritation shading Saiki's face.

No, that wasn't quite right, actually. That wasn't what Saiki's irritated face looked like. Aren had never seen this expression on the guy before, but if he wasn't mistaken, it seemed more like-

"What's got you in such a hurry, Kusuo?" A lilting voice called out. Aren's neck crawled with instinctive dread. 

Defensiveness?

Saiki scowled. Aren blinked. The boy wasn't even wearing his uniform, yet he was downstairs answering the door. Aren doesn't think he'd ever seen Saiki willingly open the door for anyone, much less when busy. 

Looking as though he'd swallowed a lemon, Saiki opened the door wider. "Come in. Make yourself at home," he gritted out. His body was stiff and unwelcoming, starkly contrasting his words. 

"I hadn't realized we had guests over," the same grating voice said as Aren stepped in. It belonged to a tall blonde man wearing something similar to Saiki's hairpins, almost like a tiara. Aren could see, despite the very different coloring, the readily apparent similarities between the two. He walked up close to Saiki and looked Aren up and down before straightening up and offering his hand. "Kusuke Saiki."

Aren gave the hand a distrusting look but still took it. "Aren Kuboyasu."

He wasn't sure if it was a pleasure to meet this guy. 

Aren's Saiki shifted closer to him, near enough to wear they were almost chest to chest. The act startled him because Saiki was close to him , close enough to where Aren could wrap an arm around him and feel his warmth at his front if he wanted to. 

His heart would have been pounding with an exhilarating joy had Aren not sensed the pure discomfort emanating from Saiki. Instead, his heartbeat was beginning to tick up for a different reason entirely.

“Kuboyasu,” his Saiki said. "You can wait-"

He hesitated momentarily. It was really just for the briefest second, but the minuscule pause was still enough to raise alarm bells in Aren's head. "Upstairs. In my room."

"Should you two be up there alone?" The other asked, his tone bordering on mocking. Saiki gave the man a bone-chilling glare, piercing ice emanating from the depths of his eyes. Even though it wasn't aimed toward him, a shudder still ran down Aren's back.

Huh, yet another look Aren had never seen on the boy. He'd foolishly believed that the glares he'd received once or twice before were the full extent of Saiki's expression of loathing. Now, Aren knew better. He would count himself lucky, then, because he was pretty sure he would be eviscerated under its direct, murderous wrath.

Saiki shoved past the obnoxious family member, taking Aren along for the ride. Only as they were climbing the stairs did Aren register the implications of the blonde Saiki's teasing. 

Oh, oh hell. 

Aren had always assumed that his Saiki wasn't into chicks, what with his whole escape artist schtick when it came to the prettiest girl in the world, but he'd never- He'd kinda just assumed but-

Did that mean Saiki was into guys?! This was definitely something he should have confirmed before he went head over heels for the boy, but Aren frankly would have rather fucking died. The fact that there was an even greater chance of winning Saiki's heart? That was amazing. 

Aren couldn't help but grin at the stiff wall of Saiki's back. That was just another sign that Aren should continue to fight for this, right?

His bubble of joy burst when they reached the guy's room, and Saiki turned around. His eyes were tight around the corners with stress, and if Aren looked close enough, he could see a smudge of exhaustion under his eyes, even through his funky sunglasses. Saiki gave him a look, one full of an emotion Aren couldn't decipher, before he sighed and opened the door. 

"I woke up late," he said, his voice flat as a lake. "So I still have to change."

"Are you changing in the bathroom again, holmes?" Aren asked, stepping into the room after the other boy. Unlike last time, the feeling of being watched wasn't present, which was a huge relief. "Sorry, I feel like I keep fucking up your morning schedule."

"You are," Saiki responded readily. Aren felt his heart drop to his stomach, and he was about to apologize (read: beg for forgiveness with maybe a few tears) when the smaller boy crossed his arms and looked to the side. "Don't freak out. I don't care." 

Oho? Doth Aren's eyes deceive him, or was that a pretty, pink blush staining his crush's cheek? Saiki didn't care? Sure, baby. Aren definitely believed that. 

"And to answer your question, no. I'm changing here."

Hm? Sorry, Aren must have misheard over all the sparking the wires in his brain were doing. "In here?" He asked. His voice cracked humiliatingly, and Aren knew that his face had to be as red as it felt. "I thought you didn't change in your room?" He squeaked out.

Saiki blinked at him. If Aren didn't know better, he'd say he looked guilty. Saiki's gaze slid away to the floor, heavy with something Aren couldn't name.

Saiki eventually pressed his lips together. "Stay. It's just for now. I don't want my brother messing with you." He wandered over to his wardrobe and rummaged in it before returning with his uniform. "Just turn around."

Yeah, Aren could do that. Back in his punk days, he'd helped people get dressed when they were in casts and needed help doing it themselves, or were in too much pain to do much at all. Hell, he'd even helped bathe people. Granted, they were often people in shock who were absolutely soaked with blood, but the point of the matter is-

Urgh, it was fine. Aren was making a big deal out of nothing. Saiki changed around him almost every day in the locker, and he didn't freak out then. 

Aren heard the shift of clothes on skin, and his mind filled with the extraordinarily brief glimpses he's caught before. Fuck, Saiki really was so breathtakingly gorgeous, wasn't he? Aren wanted the right to hold and cuddle and love every inch of that boy, wanted to see up close the way the sun highlighted his high cheekbones or how his eyes sparkled with constellations when encountering food he adored. Aren wanted to be the reason Saiki looked like that so badly that he daydreamed about the sight constantly. It-

"Kuboyasu," Saiki's voice, startlingly close, yanked Aren out of his rumination. He jumped and swore, spinning around to see the small teen standing almost directly behind him.

The corners of Saiki's lips quirked up amusedly. There was something so teasing and pleased about the expression that Aren couldn't help but return the smile. 

He liked seeing Saiki act like this, all playful mischief and self-satisfied looks. Aren almost wished he did it more often. It felt more authentic than the blank-faced, empty-eyed wall he made himself out to be. 

"Are you hungry?" Saiki asked, tilting his head. 

His bangs swept over his forehead, and Aren's fingertips buzzed with the urge to brush them back. Instead, because he really didn't want to get pierced with one of those pants-shitting looks, he kept his hands to himself and shook his head. "Why? Are you?" 

Saiki didn't respond, seemingly done with verbal communication. Instead, he went to collect his bag and opened his door, giving Aren an expectant look. As they both headed down the stairs, Aren was struck with a sudden intense feeling of curiosity.

Was Saiki really that worried about his brother messing with Aren? He knew how thick Aren's skin was. Was that really all the boy was concerned about?

"Oh, Kuboyasu! Hello, dear," Mrs. Saiki greeted from the kitchen, smiling sunnily. "Did my little Kusuo let you in? I'm so glad he seems to like you so much."

Aren laughed softly, feeling all too pleased at the words. Yes, he was doing a fan-fucking-tastic job of winning Saiki's affection, wasn't he? Thank you so much for noticing! "Me too," he agreed, delighted that it appeared to be true. 

Saiki really did seem to like him. 

“Oh, and I’ll actually be taking him to school today,” Aren tacked on guilty, giving the woman his best apologetic smile.

"Okay, hon! From what I can tell, you two had fun yesterday. I don’t mind when people get my little boy out of the house. Just try not to do it too much!” Mrs. Saiki smiled warmly. “Have you met my other baby?" Mrs. Saiki asked, reaching out a hand to beckon the blonde from earlier to her. "This is Kusuke! He's staying with us for the time being. He's little Ku's big brother!"

"Yeah?" Aren asked, trying to continue the conversation. This would be an easy way to get information, even if it would definitely be biased by motherly love. 

"My work transferred over here recently, and since I bought the house and everything, it only makes sense that I would stay here for a while," the man, apparently the big bro, said. His fucking voice was really pissing Aren off, truth be told. "And besides, I'll take any opportunity to see my family. Especially my cute baby brother!"

Uh…huh. 

Hm. 

Was it weird that Aren was getting some interesting vibes from this guy? 

The older brother suddenly smiled slyly and lifted a hand out towards Aren's Saiki. Aren felt his heart thunk in dread as the younger boy tensed without flinching away, his teeth peeling back into the beginning of a snarl and his eyes suddenly shining with the panic of a cornered animal.

No, Aren definitely didn't fucking like this. 

Praying his arm wouldn't be ripped off, Aren wrapped one firmly around his Saiki's shoulders and squeezed softly, hoping the boy would take it as the comfort Aren was aiming for. 

"Sorry," Aren smiled, knowing it was surely more teeth than considered polite. "But we really should be getting going." 

When he looked down at the boy under his arm, Aren felt his heart begin to pound for an entirely different reason. Shock was widening Saiki's eyes and parting his plump lips. Aren bit the inside of his cheek at the sight, feeling almost lightheaded with the urge to swoop down and plant a kiss anywhere he could reach. 

But Aren couldn't afford to get distracted just yet. There was still an enemy on the periphery. "C'mon, Saiki, let's go, okay?"

Saiki blinked at him and then nodded slowly. They said goodbye to his mom before Aren quickly led them out of the house, still starstruck by the fact that his arm was still attached to his body and wrapped around his pretty little homeboy. 

Out of instinct, Aren tugged open the door and let Saiki through first. Something in his gut, though, urged him to look back. He'd turned his back on a potential threat, a huge breaking of his ingrained rules.

Indulging himself, Aren turned to meet the eye of the older Saiki brother and felt his danger sense itch at the sight of the unrestrained vitriol in his sickly green orb.

Aren nodded at him with his chin and gave him a lovely view of his sharp canines. 

It must sting that Saiki let Aren touch him and not his older brother, huh? 

'Suck on that, fucking punk,' he thought smugly as he slammed the door closed.

Aren smiled at the sight of his Saiki waiting for him just down the steps. "Hey, sorry about that," Aren laughed nervously, rubbing his neck. "You seemed uncomfortable, so I just wanted to get you out of there."

Saiki raised his chin and looked off to the side. It appeared to be an action born from his usual imperial indifference, but something told Aren that his homeboy was really feeling shy. "It's whatever," he responded, voice carefully flat and quiet. Aren smiled and moved to meet him. 

And guess what? Saiki even let Aren carry his bag for him. 

"You can't stay mad forever, kit kat."

Yes, Kusuo very much could. He was so good at holding grudges, especially against certain somebodies who lied and said that letting Kuboyasu take him to that fucking cafe would end well for him.

"C'mon, babes, don't be like that~."

No, no, no. Head scratches would not work on Kusuo. No matter how much she wheedled at him, Kusuo was mad, dammit!

"You got a date with him! How was that not a benefit?"

"It wasn't a date," Kusuo responded churlishly. Next to him on the bench, Akechi laughed and bonked his head against Kusuo's shoulder. Kusuo put up with it, not because he enjoyed the touch, but because moving him away would be more trouble than it was worth.

It was lunchtime, and Kusuo had been snatched up by these two and forced to sit with them in the back of the school. Didn't they know people were taken here to get beat up? Good grief, they were such suspicious characters. If Kusuo were a normal boy, he might feel threatened by their press-ganging of him.

Aiura continued to scratch at his scalp with her acrylics, and Kusuo very much did not sigh and press into the touch. "Yeah?" She asked, voice teasing. 

"It wasn't," Kusuo insisted. "We didn't confirm anything."

"I believe Kuboyasu may be taking cues from you. I'm certain that, by now, he's picked up on your general hesitancy," Akechi piped up. Kusuo wanted to shake him off now, just to be petty, but didn't want to deal with the whining and pouting he'd receive in response. "What Aiura said the other day was correct; Kuboyasu is rather chivalrous. From his general devotion and loyalty to those he considers friends, as well as his apparent infatuation with you, makes sense that he'd be willing to move at a glacial pace, so to speak, when it comes to you two's relationship."

"It's not," Kusuo hissed. "A relationship. We're not dating and we didn't go on a date. What happened was that Kuboyasu felt bad because he saw me throw two good griefing tantrums, and I wasn't going to deny him after I inconvenienced him so badly. Why are you two looking at me like that?"

During his uncharacteristically long tangent, Aiura's skritches had morphed into long strokes through his hair while Akechi sighed. Both looked so despondent that it was making Kusuo highly uncomfortable. What was with them?

"You mean, after you had two panic attacks, your hunky punk took care of you because he cares about you and you deserve it?" Aiura offered, her glossy lips twisted into a slight frown. 

What a pain. They were in one of these moods, then. Seriously, they didn't have to make everything so dramatic. 

"Fine. But," Kusuo switched topics, hoping they'd let him blow past the subject. "You said it would end well for me. And now-"

Kusuo cut himself off. What had he been about to do? Spill what was going on at home? Kusuke was being Kusuke, that was all. And the thought of telling these two made his stomach twist in panic. That's what had happened to Toritsuka, and that had been the most humiliating and painful experience of Kusuo's life. 

He had nightmares of that day sometimes. Of his body, which he worked so hard to keep hidden from his brother, being carelessly stripped and flaunted, of the sharp pain and heat of the laser beams, the sight of his own blood dripping down his arm, the suffocating terror he'd felt when Toritsuka dropped limply to the floor-

"-now I have more nuisances I'm dealing with at home," Kusuo finished, kicking his legs slightly to try and dispel his burgeoning anxiety. 

Aiura's hand stilled. Uh oh, Kusuo's little deflection tactic didn't have the calming effect he'd hoped for. "Is it your dad?" She asked in a soft voice so unlike her. 

Kusuo couldn't stand hearing that tone. It made something stupid and plaintive shake in his chest and coaxed out a tiny bit of emotion from the usually impenetrable cage he kept locked away in. 

Akechi wiggled impossibly closer and nuzzled again at Kusuo's shoulder. Kusuo gritted his teeth and tried to ignore how his heart ached traitorously. "No," he answered Aiura. "It's nothing. Forget I mentioned it."

"Honey-"

"Kusuo, you know that we would-"

"Please," Kusuo begged. The rarely used word rang awkwardly from his telepathy, bringing on an almost amusing sense of embarrassment. 

Kusuo didn't plead with people because it usually didn't matter. People wouldn't listen to him, so why bring himself down to the humiliating level of being ignored? 

Kusuo kept himself so hidden away that when he finally put himself out there, he expected to be given the proper attention he deserved. And oh, how it burned to be brushed off so simply, for people to refute the gift he was granting them. 

Namely, him. 

But these guys…

"Alright." Aiura finally conceded, beginning to play with his hair once more.

"If it's that important to you to where you're using niceties to get us to back off of our interrogation of you, then I'll respect the boundary you're putting up and stop asking." Akechi tilted his head to get into Kusuo's line of view and offered him a cheerful smile. 

…They wouldn't do something like that to him. 

It was why Kusuo had to keep them safe, though. 

"If we're gonna leave that alone, though, I wanna tell you something about your whole situation with your future-boo, boo," Aiura sang. 

Fine. She had listened to Kusuo, so now Kusuo would listen to her. It was only fair. 

She suddenly leaned in closer, her melted-chrysoberyl eyes pinning him down and demanding his attention. Kusuo swallowed. Tilted his head attentively. 

"Don't be afraid to show yourself to him, Ku," she said. "When he looks, let him see you. When he reaches out, let yourself be held."

She straightened up, untangling her hand from his hair to comb through her own. "'Yasu will ask something of you soon. It will require you to open yourself more to him. Whatever it is that you're afraid of-"

Kusuo flinched. 

"-know that your devotion isn't a one way street. He'll be there to help you with the aftermath." She turned away from him slightly, looking toward the school with a distant expression. "We all will."

When Aiura turned back to look at Kusuo, most of the intensity in her gaze was gone, leaving her typical, spunky self. "Sorry, totes didn't mean to get all deathly serious or anything, hons!" She gushed, sticking up a peace sign near her eye. "Just thought you should know, Ku Kitty~."

Kusuo rolled his eyes at the cutesy nickname out of habit. Truth be told, though, he was grateful for the advice, even if it went against everything he had ingrained in himself. But, here, tucked close to people deemed safe, the thought of breaking through those imposed chains seemed almost plausible. 

“Hey,” Kuboyasu grinned, lighting up at the sight of him as Kusuo stepped into the classroom. He couldn’t help but preen, especially when he realized that Kuboyasu had turned away from Kaido to pay attention to him. 

Good grief, Kusuo really needed to get that under control, actually. Kaido wasn’t even interested in Kuboyasu. Kusuo could just sometimes be an attention hog.

“Where’d you go? We missed you at lunch.”

Kusuo stood in front of the guy’s desk, squaring his face into his usual apathetic expression. “I had two other nuisances to deal with.”

Hang on. Was Kaido okay?

Kusuo squinted at the kid. His fingers were rapidly tapping at his desk while his bright, excited eyes darted between him and Kuboyasu. He was vibrating in a way that made Kusuo think of a particularly anxious chihuahua. 

Kuboyasu suddenly stiffened before reaching over the aisle to clap Kaido on the shoulder and tug him in close. “He’s cool, dog. He just- was real excited about a scenario we were discussing earlier, ‘s all.” 

Okaayyy. 

Why was Kuboyasu lying to Kusuo? And even more curious, why was he doing such a bad job at it?

What a pain. And the worst part was, Kusuo couldn’t even read his mind to tell why. Or at least, not without a splitting headache. Both of their heads were a mess of gibberish, and all Kusuo could glean was that Kuboyasu was flustered and Kaido was excited. Very, very excited.

Kusuo sniffed. Whatever. It’s not like he cared. 

Kusuo slunk over to his desk and sat down, firmly ignoring the feeling of both their stares on his neck. Aiura and Akechi came in a moment later, both chattering about this and that. Before the gyaru sat down, though, she made a detour to Kusuo’s desk and leaned over to smile at him. 

“Feeling alright, toots?”

Kusuo bared his teeth. Aiura just giggled in response and moved away. 

Above the cacophony of inner voices, Teruhashi’s rose in an outraged shriek. Kusuo didn’t wince outwardly, but it was a near thing. 

Poor Kuboyasu. He’d have to deal with that eventually. 

As the school dismissal bell rang, Aren was maybe-kind-of-entirely-completely stressing out. Just a bit.

Partly because he had a plan in mind to get closer to his homeboy/crush. And every time Kaido looked over at him, Aren remembered just how badly he wanted it to come to fruition. Another part of it was the fact that the gyaru girl, Aiura, had been getting a bit too close for Aren’s possessive urges to enjoy all that much. Not only that, but Aren still needed time to chew over the troubling information he had gleaned from his boy and try to make sense of it. 

There was something worse than all three of those stressors, though. A major threat to his goals. And she was standing right in front of the object of his affection, looking at Saiki with large puppy-dog eyes. 

“Do you mind if I visit your mom for cooking lessons today, Saiki?” Teruhashi asked sweetly. “I have some extra time after school, and I thought that it would be the perfect time to learn how to make something new.”

Aren gritted his teeth. Had she been doing that regularly? How had Aren never known?

‘Bet she’s never been in Saiki’s room, though,’ a distant part of him thought smugly. Aren hid a smirk behind his palm. 

Haha, point for him!

Aren knew this song and dance, though. He’s watched it happen numerous times, even before he began crushing big time on his homie. Teruhashi would work up the nerve to ask the kid to go out, and the shy boy that he was, he would never tell her no.

Bit of a pushover, his Saiki was. 

That’s why Aren was so surprised to watch Saiki sigh so visibly, tense from his jaw to his back. Teruhashi seemed shocked too, and was quite nervous about it if Aren were to read into the slight widening of her eyes and tiny duck of her head. Her smile remained stalwart on her face, though, something that had never failed to impress Aren. 

Aren strained his ears, trying to pick up his homie’s quiet voice. After a moment, Aren heard Saiki’s words echoing through his head, saying, “...My brother is at home.”

Remember how Aren had just been lauding the girl’s ability to maintain a smile on her face without seeming strained? Yeah, well, it seems the universe would want to prove him wrong. As soon as the words left Saiki, Teruhashi’s sweet but nervous expression became one of barely-hidden annoyance. 

Woah. Where did that come from?

“O-oh,” Aren heard her voice waver. “I see, well. That’s very. Nice.”

Teruhashi’s eyes slowly slid around before settling on Aren. He startled slightly, with not a small amount of embarrassment at having been caught. Instead of calling him out though, the girl’s eyes narrowed appraisingly before dipping her head in acknowledgment.

Hm.

She turned back to Saiki. Her pretty blue eyes lost that rarely-seen sharp cunning, instead gaining a soft look of concern.

It didn’t seem just for show, either. 

“Are you okay with him being there?” She had quieted, so Aren was forced to begin reading her lips. “If you need time away…” She shifted nervously, looking away shyly. “I’m sure I can help you find someone who would let you stay over. Your friends, too-”

“No,” Saiki said firmly. Aren felt yet another jolt of surprise at his newfound boldness. “I appreciate your concern, but it’s unnecessary.”

Teruhashi’s expression softened even further. “Okay. Just let me know.”

Saiki didn’t respond.

Teruhashi slipped away, walking over to her desk with her typical grace. As she passed by Aren, though, she gave him a look that had him straightening up.

She needed to talk to him. 

“Aren! Are you ready to go?” Shun asked, leaning over his desk. Aren couldn’t help but smile at his homeboy, even despite the fact that his mind was a million miles away. 

“Not so fast, Shun. I have to go talk to the teach about making up a test,” Aren fibbed. “I’ll catch you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Shun smiled. “I’ll just go home with Nendo and-”

There was a loud screech of a chair pushing back, and they looked over just in time to watch Saiki snatch his school bag and get the hell out of dodge. 

“I guess just Nendo,” Shun uttered dryly. Aren gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before putting his own things away. 

It took Teruhashi a while to get to Aren. Originally, he had assumed she was struggling to find him, but her confident stride toward him under the stairway put that idea right out of her head.

Just to confirm, Aren asked, “You knew where I was?”

Teruhashi flipped her hair, and Aren was temporarily blinded by the shimmer of it. He shook away the remnants of her hypnotic spell just in time to hear her response. “I know where to go when I want to be alone.”

Oof. That implied some pretty sucky things. Aren would honestly hate to be in her shoes, constantly being hounded by dozens upon dozens of love-obsessed idiots. 

“I just had to say my goodbyes,” she said vaguely. Aren could guess she was referring to her devoted followers. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. Do you know Saiki’s brother?”

“Met him this morning,” Aren responded gruffly. He felt his cheeks warm at her curious look. “I walk Saiki to school.”

“I see.” Teruhashi didn’t seem very pleased with that info, but she accepted it readily. “What did you think of him?”

“He-”

Wait.

Aren whipped around, staring at the underside of the stairs. He was aware that Teruhashi was looking at him like he was insane, but.

He trusted his gut. And his gut was telling him that someone was here. 

“Is everything alright, Kuboyasu?”

Aren swallowed. Let his eyes flit across the bare wall once, twice, before turning back slowly. “Yeah. Just coulda sworn there was someone here, ‘s all.” He smiled at her, trying to play off the way his neck continued to crawl. “But to answer your question, I thought he was a fucking punk.” Aren coughed into his fist. “Pardon my language and alla that.”

Teruhashi’s lips twitched upward. He knew she would never agree with him out loud, but the spark of approval in her eyes told Aren all he needed to know. “I met him a while back, during New Years. He-” 

She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. “He wasn’t very kind to me. But that isn’t what I’m nervous about.”

Someone not kind to Teruhashi? Was it something in the Saiki family bloodline that kept them impervious to her charms, or were those two just like that? Even Aren struggled, and he’d never looked at someone twice. 

Y’know, before Saiki. But that was neither here nor there, now was it?

“I’m only telling you this because I know that you care about Saiki,” she said. “And he…cares a lot about you, too.”

Aren’s heart wiggled happily at that. “Okay,” he said, fighting back a smile. Now wasn’t the time, Aren.

“The way that his brother looked at him then, it,” she continued, letting her eyes flutter shut. “I didn’t like it. It almost looked...you know.”

Aren’s insides went cold and hollow. “You don’t really think-”

“I know, Kuboyasu,” she snapped. The sound of it made Aren’s heart jump, and not out of joy. “I know.”

Her voice softened at the end into something quiet and defeated. Aren's breath caught.

God. That was so fucking- 

Revolting. All of it. Both his and her experiences. He may not be crushing on this girl, but that didn’t mean shit. Aren still wanted to see her safe and happy. The thought of one of her obsessed fanboys getting too entitled to her kindness, thinking they had the right to do something like that? It almost made it hard for Aren to think through the searing and oppressive rage.

“Just…”

Aren looked at her, trying to convey just how seriously he was taking this. Teruhashi obviously trusted him, for one reason or another. Aren fucking refused to make her regret it.

“Please. Take care of him, okay?” Teruhashi asked, her tiny voice pulling painfully on Aren's heartstrings.

“Of course,” Aren responded, tightening his fist and placing it on his chest. “Thank you for telling me. And, Teruhashi?”

She blinked at him. Even under the shitty lighting, Aren could have sworn her eyes shone glossily. “I know this about Saiki, but. I want you to know that if you ever need help with anything like that, I’ll be there in a fucking heartbeat. On my honor as a man.”

The promise shouldn’t have meant much. Teruhashi had an army of men at her beck and call. With just a bat of her eyes, she’d be safe from any danger whatsoever. 

Still, though, her eyes shone deeply with gratitude, as if Aren had just given her a precious gift. “Thank you, Kuboyasu.” 

And Aren knew, done to the marrow of his bones, just how much she meant it.

Chapter Text

Well, that was rather frustrating. 

Kusuo bit back his sigh. After the heart-stopping jumpscare of Kuboyasu looking directly at his invisible form, he didn't want to risk anything that could possibly tip the former punk off. 

Good grief, at least Kusuo had dealt with the punk's danger sense before and had the foresight to use his invisibility again. Kusuo didn't think Kuboyasu would be very thrilled to know he was listening in on his conversations. 

Even if they were talking about him. 

Kusuo let himself scowl freely at the retreating backs of both Teruhashi and Kuboyasu. How dare they, honestly. He didn't need them butting in on his family situation. Kusuo had it all under control. 

His invisibility would wear off soon, though. Kusuo really should get going while he still could. 

He stalked forward and out from underneath the stairwell, taking note of the gathering crowd of followers forming around Teruhashi. Perfect. Kusuo could switch out his shoes and skedaddle without any fuss. 

Or, that had been the plan, anyways. As always, there was no such thing as simple in Kusuo's life. 

"Saiki! Saikiiiiii!" 

Good fucking grief, not this guy. Why did Toritsuka insist on clinging to him? Worse, he was the only one who could see him when he was invisible. He also never fucking listened when Kusuo told him to go away. Or to quit calling him master. 

Kusuo instinctively gritted his teeth around the snarl that wanted to form, then realized who it was he was protecting from his rage.

Toritsuka skidded to a stop at the flash of Kusuo's teeth. "What. Do you want?" Kusuo hissed out with his telepathy. 

"To see you and ask you for a favor?" The fake monk offered cheerfully, poking his index fingers together. He lost the innocent facade quickly, though, looking at Kusuo eagerly. "But now, I mostly wanna know what it was that made you so pissed off." He gasped suddenly, looking at Kusuo in horror. "Did you get rejected?" He whisper-yelled. 

Kusuo snapped his teeth. It worked to cow Toritsuka momentarily, but the teen had been proven to be an idiot repeatedly and obviously didn't plan on stopping now. He continued to follow Kusuo on his way to the shoe lockers, prattling on and on the entire way there.

"Is that what happened? Master, hey master, am I right? I'm right, aren't I? Don't worry! I got plenty of experience in that!"

Kusuo grunted as the ballsy medium wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling himself ahead so he could stand next to Kusuo. "Hey, are you heading home? I can walk with you! And maybe you could take me to see this girl while you're at it?"

Kusuo's eyebrow twitched as his invisibility dropped, but it was easy enough to let go. It would have fallen in about two minutes, anyway.

It was more the fact that Toritsuka was getting on his nerves more than usual that was making it hard to restrain himself.

It made sense, though. Thinking about Kusuke always made him less willing to listen to any of Toritsuka's sexual references. Made him itchy and nauseous. It wouldn't take long until the innuendos and disgusting remarks began, and Kusuo didn't want to be there when it did.

Toritsuka kept his arm slung across Kusuo's shoulders the entire way to the front of the school, only backing off when Kusuo switched out his shoes. Thankfully, the place was pretty empty, people already having gone home or rushed off to their clubs. Only a few stragglers remained. "You know, Big Tits was telling me to keep an eye on you. More than usual anyway. Didn't say why."

Kusuo straightened up and turned around to stare Toritsuka dead in the eye, leaning against the lockers casually. It certainly soothed a portion of Kusuo's ire to see the pervy monk begin to sweat in mere seconds. It gave Kusuo a few precious seconds to try and figure out an answer. Or to decide if he wanted to at all. 

Kusuo's mouth felt very dry. He swallowed and shifted his weight but chose to stay silent in the end, much to Toritsuka's disappointment.

"Aw, c'mon, master, don't give me that," Toritsuka groaned. "We're friends, aren't we?"

"I don't like you," Kusuo answered honestly, glancing down at his nails and admiring them. 

"But you still let me stick around."

So? Maybe Kusuo liked having someone so pathetic around. He couldn't help but scowl at the call out. "Your point?"

"My point is, I wanna know what's wrong with you," Toritsuka said bluntly. He stepped closer to Kusuo, effectively crowding him against the wall. Kusuo's grimace deepened as he looked upward at the teen. Why was he so damn tall?

"Why?" Kusuo snapped.

Toritsuka paused at that, looking confused. He looked upward with a furrowed brow for a moment, long enough to where Kusuo would almost be offended, before he looked back down and shrugged. "I care about you, I guess. Do you need a more complicated answer than that?"

Nope, wrong answer. Kusuo hadn't wanted something heartfelt or sweet. Good grief, how disgusting. Kusuo curled his lip in derision, letting his face speak for himself. 

“Geez,” Toritsuke sulked. "You're more of an asshole than usual today." 

Kusuo narrowed his eyes, ready to deal out a scathing response, but stopped short as a too-familiar inner voice suddenly became louder.

"He's coming," Kusuo warned vaguely. 

"Huh? Who?"

Toritsuka's question was answered quickly as a loud "Oi!" echoed throughout the school entrance. The few people that were milling about all jumped nervously, including Toritsuka. 

Kuboyasu, the guy who was causing Kusuo so much trouble, one of literally two people he was hoping to avoid, was currently staring them down with a glower that frightened even Kusuo. He looked over at a small group of guys and tossed his chin. "Fuck off."

That had them fleeing the scene real quick. All the other people hanging around quickly got the memo and also got the hell out of dodge.

Except, obviously, Toritsuka. The fake monk gave Kusuo a wide-eyed, pleading look. 'Saiki, are you gonna do something about your guard dog?!'

Just for that, no. Kusuo blinked sedately at him, listening amusedly to the medley of curses filling Toritsuka's head at his non-reaction. He wasn't as amused when Kuboyasu inevitably approached them and gripped Toritsuka's shoulder. 

Okay, maybe the rapidly paling visage of Toritsuka brought him a bit of laughter. It definitely wouldn't make it past his lips, though, that was for damn sure. 

"Your face ticks me right off, you know that scum?" Kuboyasu smiled with false cheer, anger bleeding from his eyes and veins popping out from his forehead. He tugged the medium close and hoisted him off the ground — despite being an inch shorter. "Saiki, he wasn't doing anything, was he?"

Oh. Kusuo blinked rapidly as he scoured through Kuboyasu's thoughts. Is that was this was about?

Kuboyasu must have seen their (reflecting back on it now) less than consent-y position. On Kusuo's part, anyway. And here he was, his conversation with Teruhashi still fresh in his mind, about to tear Toritsuka a new one.

Kuboyasu was defending Kusuo. By threatening copious amounts of violence. It made Kusuo's stomach bubble weirdly and his heart thump loudly in his ears. 

He felt...oddly taken care of. Special, maybe. And Kusuo could always appreciate a good beatdown. 

Alas, he kinda didn't want Toritsuka to be put six feet under yet. And it would also suck to get Kuboyasu stuck on a murder charge, especially with something so lowly. Kusuo shook his head no, and had to bite back a grin at the disappointment that flashed across Kuboyasu's face. 

Kusuo understood deeply. 

Kuboyasu looked Toritsuka up and down slowly, appraising him. Finally, he huffed and dropped him before wiping his hands on his pants. 

Okay, Kusuo had to admit. The situation was a little funny. 

Kuboyasu turned back to Kusuo and gave him his usual puppyish grin. "Sorry about that. I shouldn't have assumed."

"Why are you apologizing to him?" Toritsuka grumbled, and let out a little eep! as Kuboyasu glared at him. 

Kuboyasu's thoughts debated on the merits of apologizing to Toritsuka. "...Sorry," he finally said. 

It sounded like the words weighed a ton and he was dragging them up from his toes. Kusuo finally let his smile break across his face, even if he kept it small.

"At least try to sound like you mean it," Toritsuka grumbled. Kuboyasu's resulting glare made the medium step back warily. "Fine, then. I'll tell Tits Mcgee that you're doing just dandy. I salute you, Kuboyasu." He flipped out his palm toward the boy in question, grinning mockingly before turning away. 

Kuboyasu continued to glower at the fake monk's back until he turned the corner. "Any particular reason you let 'em stay around you?" He asked, raising an incredulous eyebrow. 

"Think of him as a pet project," Kusuo offered. Kuboyasu laughed. The sound made Kusuo's stomach wriggle.

"Yeah, you seem like the type."

Um, excuse him? What did Kuboyasu think he knew about Kusuo? How dare he. 

The other boy continued to crack up, this time at Kusuo's expression, much to Kusuo's irritation. He crossed his arms and glared up at Kuboyasu. 

"Don't be like that," The reformed punk drawled teasingly. "You know you like me."

Kusuo swallowed. Looked away. Refused to give the guy the satisfaction of seeing him flounder and redden.

At his non-verbal dismissal, a warm hand settled on Kusuo's head and patted it. The contact sent a shockwave down Kusuo's spine, and he tried not to press into it. 

Thankfully, Kuboyasu seemed done messing with him for a bit. "Are you heading home?" When Kusuo nodded, he smiled broadly. "Great. I'll walk ya."

The prospect delighted Kusuo for a split second until he remembered the reason he himself wasn't home right now. He'd had to stay behind to listen in on Kuboyasu and Teruhashi's little gossip session. Bringing Kuboyasu around the house right now, with that thing at home, might confirm some things in the punk's mind. Then he might get even more annoying to deal with. 

Good grief, the issues were just never-ending, weren't they?

"I don't know," Kusuo hedged, trying to come up with a plausible reason why. 

He apparently took too long because Kuboyasu pouted, and dammit if it didn't immediately weaken some of Kusuo's doubts. "Please?"

Ugh, that- that did Kusuo in a little bit. How was he supposed to say no? Especially when someone actually used their manners to ask for something that Kusuo kinda really didn't mind going along with. 

Fine. It was fine. He'd just have to shake Kuboyasu when they neared Kusuo's house. Easy enough. That way, they could both win.

"If you're that desperate," Kusuo rolled his eyes, leaning back against the lockers. Just because he was agreeing didn't mean he could appear pleased about it. He had a reputation to protect, after all. "I guess."

Kuboyasu giggled, and Kusuo's insides glowed with a gooey warmth in response. Good grief, Kusuo could sometimes hardly believe this guy had been a gang leader. He knew it was true — he'd seen some of the (frankly terrifying) memories — but Kuboyasu was just so endearing. The disparity sometimes gave him whiplash.

Unless Kusuo was the only one who could garner these kinds of reactions, and Kuboyasu wasn't usually so sweet. The thought made Kusuo feel all too smug.

Kuboyasu placed a hand on his front and gestured ahead with a bow, making a show of being overly formal because he somehow knew how amusing Kusuo found it. Kusuo stuck his nose up high and strode forward, letting himself smile as he heard Kuboyasu's footsteps following behind. 

Walking with the other teen was, surprisingly, a pleasantly peaceful endeavor. Kusuo was used to people who wanted his full attention, including responses to conversations they attempted to kindle. Kuboyasu, however, didn't hold any false notions about Kusuo's social capabilities and thus didn't expect a whole lot in terms of dialogue from Kusuo. It showed in his own thoughtful silence, punctured occasionally by a comment about the scenery that didn't require Kusuo's input. 

Granted, the walk was slowed down a bit by Kuboyasu's tendency to pick up and show Kusuo any cool rock he found, but Kusuo didn't mind. All he had to do was nod to show his appreciation, and the teen was satisfied.

They had been walking for about ten minutes when Kuboyasu decided to speak. "Uh- Saiki." 

Oh. It was time for that, then. Kuboyasu had been thinking about it so obsessively throughout the day that Kusuo had known it was only a matter of time. 

At Kusuo's hum of acknowledgment, the former punk grunted and flexed his fingers anxiously. "You know, we've been getting closer."

A sharp pain shot through Kusuo's head, sudden and jarring against the tranquility of their walk. His hand flew up to massage the bridge of his nose as he grimaced. 

"Just as I suspected, then," Kusuke frowned, his eyes gleaming with a seething hatred as he tapped harshly on his phone. His voice wasn't light and condescending for once, instead dark and angry. "How disgusting. Go ahead and go, boys."

A warm hand settled on Kusuo's shoulder, dragging him out of the vision. "Woah, hey, Saiki. You good homie?" 

Kusuo pressed his lips together. His premonitions, like usual, weren't very helpful. But even if it hadn't been detailed, seeing Kusuke in one made a part of him quake. Kusuke's threat hadn't been idle. Kusuo had really expected it to be — he was very used to this kind of game — but…

It still stung. That his brother controlled parts of Kusuo's life without so much as a second thought. 

Kusuo would have to keep himself even more vigilant than usual. 

"Saiki?" Kuboyasu pressed. Kusuo straightened himself up.

"Fine, I'm fine," he reassured quietly. "Just a sudden migraine. Keep going."

Even when he scoured through the thoughts of those in his radius, Kusuo couldn't pick up on anything malicious aimed toward them. Did that mean his premonition would come to fruition sometime in the future, rather than right now as he'd feared?

Rather than be soothed, Kuboyasu's eyes tightened in worry. "Are you sure? You swayed for a moment. This can wait." He glanced around, holding Kusuo's shoulder more firmly as though Kuboyasu feared he would topple over without support. "Do you wanna sit down? There's a bench nearby."

'He's fussing,' Kusuo thought suddenly. 'He's fussing because he cares about me.' The idea warmed his cheeks even as Kuboyasu began guiding him to sit down. Kusuo finally got the mind to resist a little, just enough to catch the reformed punk's attention. "Kuboyasu, it's just a headache. It's really fine."

Kuboyasu's fingers drummed on Kusuo's shoulder. The touch was pleasant, which was almost a surprise to admit. "I know, I know, I don't mean to make a big thing out of this. I'm just worried."

Kusuo thinks he admires Kuboyasu's honesty. He has not been jealous of that ability. Not for a long time. It's something he appreciates but acknowledges as unobtainable for something like him. Kusuo isn't made for the truth, and the world wasn't made to accept it. 

The truth of Kuboyasu's words was almost uncomfortable to listen to, but they made Kusuo reflect, something he usually tried not to do. Maybe it had inspired him, the way the guy was always so honest. It, at the very least, made him think. 

Did Kusuo enjoy this? Being fussed over? It seemed almost incomprehensible. Kusuo enjoyed being in control, albeit behind the scenes. Allowing someone to take care of him implied that Kusuo would have to take a step back and assume they were capable enough to take the reins for a while. 

Did Kusuo really trust Kuboyasu enough for that?

Kusuo continued to be guided to the aforementioned bench. He felt incredibly silly sitting down, knowing this was all over a stupid headache. But something about the concerned attentiveness of Kuboyasu was soothing Kusuo, making it easier to stomach any embarrassment he felt. 

Kuboyasu sat next to him and smiled. Kusuo swallowed and gave a small one back.

Yes.

He did trust this boy. He did. 

When had that happened?

Kusuo shut his eyes. Might as well take the opportunity to try and soothe a bit of the pain. 

Kuboyasu was solid and warm by him. It was more comfort than Kusuo had granted himself in a long time.

He'd known what Kuboyasu was going to ask him about. The people who used Kusuo's given name had never been given explicit permission. They'd always taken it for themselves. Kusuo had let it slide out of a reluctant affection, but he had never been quite able to bring himself to reciprocate. 

Maybe it was fear. Maybe Kusuo had never grown out of the terror that had consumed him so many years ago, standing over the unconscious, tiny body of his friend. 

Maybe he'd never been allowed to, Kusuo reflected, thinking about his dad and brother's words over the years. Of Kusuke's actions just yesterday. 

"Kuboyasu."

Was this what Aiura had been talking about? Letting himself be seen and obtained? 

It was terrifying, but Kusuo wanted it so badly. 

Kusuo didn't open his eyes, too scared he'd back out if he saw any of the earnestness he knew resided in Kuboyasu's eyes. But he knew he had the guy's attention. 

"What were you going to say?" Kusuo asked. 

Kuboyasu was nervous. Kusuo was, too. But they both wanted this, have wanted it for a while. It was like Akechi said, wasn't it? Kuboyasu had been waiting on Kusuo to give the okay. 

"Saiki." Kuboyasu shifted and sighed nervously. "You and I-"

Kuboyasu stiffed right as something pricked Kusuo's neck. He shifted, his adrenaline pumping in response to the other's sudden distress.

"Saiki," he gasped out, looking at Kusuo with terror practically exuding from his eyes. "We need to get out of here." He lurched up, and with Kusuo's rapidly blurring vision, he could see how the reformed punk strumbled tellingly. "Fuck," he hissed. "How the hell could I let this happen? Kusuo, did they…" A second gasp, more stumbling. Kusuo's eyes lidded, even as his head screamed at him to stay awake. "They got you, didn't- didn't they…"

Kusuo's body felt like it was shutting down, entirely without his say-so. He pushed himself up, only to stumble onto his knees as the world spun worse. He heard Kuboyasu fall next to him a moment later. 

Kusuo could tell, with what little consciousness he had left, that the presences around him weren't malicious. Concern radiated from them, many aiming to pull out their phones and call an ambulance. However, in what seemed like just a moment, their thoughts turned to terror, and they gained some distance from their bodies. 

"Look what we have here, boys!" Someone cheered above them with a gravelly voice that made Kusuo's head pound. "Looks like the shit he gave us was the real deal."

Laughter. A soft groan from Kuboyasu. Kusuo still wasn't sensing fucking anything, not even now that he knew a threat was standing above him. He shifted his hands closer to himself, trying to push himself up, get himself closer to his boy, to do anything-

A rough hand tangled in his hair. Someone above him said something, but Kusuo was beyond the ability of comprehension. His body was too soft and pliant to safeguard against an attack. He only had one thought about how he should have listened to his brother before something slammed into the back of his head, and he struck the sidewalk in front of him. After that, Kusuo wasn't thinking anything at all.

When Aren woke up, multiple thoughts were immediately fighting for his attention. But the main thing he was focused on was the fact that his arms ached like a bitch. 

He'd been in this situation before. Instinct came rushing back to him so quickly that it almost brought a tinge of nostalgia with it. Aren kept his eyes shut and his breathing deep to buy himself some time. 

Didn't do much to distract from the burn and strain of his arms, not from the pounding of his head. Whatever they had dosed him up with had been strong.

The dart had been fast, too. And had to have been fired from far enough away for Aren not to pick up on it, which implied it had been shot from some kind of gun. He'd initially assumed he'd been nabbed by some punks, but would a gang really have access to that kind of technology? 

Aren had to focus. This could actually be dangerous. 

As odd as it seemed, Aren's senses sometimes almost felt supernatural. He'd been infamous for it in the gang world, for his ability to know intrinsically not only how many people were in the area, but also who was an enemy, a friend, or a neutral party.

Right now, he could tell that fifteen people were in the area, though only fourteen were registering as a threat. Another kidnappee, likely. But were they just a civilian or-

Icicles formed inside his chest, freezing and stinging him as horror crept over. Guilt stabbed through right alongside it as Aren remembered what had happened.

Saiki had been next to him, stumbling and staring dazedly. Aren remembered how terrified he'd been after he'd been shot, not for himself, but for the other boy. 

Had Saiki been taken because he was with Aren? 

God, the thought made him feel so fucking awful. Was his past catching up to him?

Aren fought the urge to growl in frustration. It didn't matter the reason. Aren had a fucking duty to protect his homeboy, and that was exactly what he was gonna do. 

If that meant he had to keep their attention on him rather than Saiki, then so be it. 

At the very least, that meant Aren didn't have to pretend to be conked out anymore. Thankfully, he wasn't suspended above the ground or anything crazy; his arms were sore because they'd been stuck supporting the dead weight of his body for who knows how long. He got his feet under him and opened his eyes, hearing the chains around his arms tying him to the pole rattle tellingly. The sound caught the attention of the people around him, who had apparently been playing cards. 

Huh. They did look like punks. So how did they get the weapons he'd figured they had? 

"Boss! The demon killer's up!" One of them called, almost sing-songy. 

That fucking confirmed it. Thugs from Ibaraki. Or at least, they ran in that circle. 

"This oughta be good," another jeered, giving Aren an eager look. Aren tried not to roll his eyes. He needed to stay calm for now. If he started pissing them off, they'd inevitably get him heated, too. And he couldn't afford that with Saiki nearby. 

They all stood up and began to move around, grabbing things and messing with each other. Their movement cleared the view before him, and Aren couldn't stop the hiss that slipped through his teeth at the sight that greeted him.

Saiki was tied around the waist to a wooden chair, his head lolling toward his chest. His arms were pinned to his sides by the rope while his ankles were knotted together with another piece. Aren swallowed. His pink hair was hiding any chance Aren had at viewing his face. Thankfully, Aren could still make out Saiki's breathing. 

Aren's heart throbbed at the sight. Why now? Things had been so peaceful before this whole shitstorm started.

"Settle down, boys," a man called as he lumbered over to Aren. He wore a leather biker jacket, sporting shorn hair and shaved brows. There was a jagged and ugly scar down his lip, likely from a knife. "Kuboyasu, huh?" He snorted and shook his head in derision. "You look like a fucking softie. Probably didn't even need to dose you up like that, could've just taken ya out on the street."

"Think you're hot shit then, punk?" Kuboyasu spat back. "The only reason you got me here was 'cause you decided to play dirty, 's all. Fuckin' scared of me?"

The thug narrowed his eyes. His men shifted, tense and ready to spring. Finally, he spoke again. "Surprised you moved here. Nice city, relatively low crime. You even go to a real good school. PK academy, yeah? Cute uniform, by the way."

Aren growled and shifted his arms. The boss cackled. "Not only that, but you found yourself someone else, too, no?" Two guys moved to stand next to Saiki and looked down at him in glee. "He's awfully cute, too. How'd you convince 'em to indulge you?"

"We ain't like that," Kuboyasu snapped out of instinct, trying to wipe away any connection the guy thought they had. The fucking punk just laughed once more.

"Bullshit, dumbass. The way you were practically cuddling up and lookin' at him, I'd assume he'd already let you hold his hand," he grinned. "Probably a tight-wad, ain't he? I get it, though. I'd play the long game for that sweet piece of ass."

Aren tried to breathe through the porous rage that swelled up in him. He couldn't afford to piss them off too badly, not with those two jackasses standing sentry to Saiki's unconscious form. He just had to keep reminding himself to stay calm. To try and compose himself, Aren imagined beating the boss's face until it caved in. It helped a bit. 

He licked his lips and said, "What do you want with me, huh? Think you can earn some street cred like this?"

"More than that. I gotta say, you did a damn good job of disappearing. No one's gotta single clue as to where the Demon Killer's fucked off to. At least," he grinned. One of his teeth was silver. Aren would pull that one out first. "Not until today. I'm sure there are plenty of old friends of yours who would pay a pretty penny to be able to track you down and say hello."

Shit, shit, this really wasn't good. Aren had underestimated the effects of getting caught with his pants down like this. Everything he had fucking worked for, the way he'd clawed his way out of his previous lifestyle, was threatening to topple down. 

And worse, someone he cared about was here as collateral. 

"Maybe we should even spread the good news about your pretty partner, too. I'm sure everyone would be thrilled to know you've finally made your pick. Maybe they'll wanna send their congratulations?"

They were being hemmed in, the punks around sensing weakness in Aren like sharks smelling blood in the water. Someone near Saiki leaned over to tug his head up by his hair. Even in the shitty lighting, Aren could see the large, purple bruise staining the boy's face. The sight made his stomach twist sharply in guilt. 

"Here's how we'll do this," the main guy drawled. "We'll fuck you up and take some pictures to let everyone know it's safe to come give their hellos. And maybe me and my boys will break in your boy here, help loosen him up for ya. Think of it as a parting gift-"

"You rat fucking bastards!" Aren roared, forgetting his original goal of staying calm and thrashing wildly against his bonds. "Keep fucking with him and I'll skin you goddamn punks alive!" 

One of the loops of the chains snapped. It didn't make much of a difference, just letting Aren take another short step closer to the necks he wanted to wring. It still had the thugs around skittering back nervously and sharing looks with each other.

"Boss, maybe we should knock him out," someone suggested, obviously attempting to be quiet. Unfortunately for them, Aren could pick out every word. 

"Probably for the best," the boss sighed loudly. He held out a hand, and someone tossed him a spiked bat. "I'll get first swing, then everyone else can get some hits in. Sound good?"

Aren spat on the ground. "Do your fucking worst."

They all gathered in. A pang shot through Aren's heart when he realized he could no longer make out Saiki.

The bat sliced through the air. Aren tensed up and gritted his teeth against the hiss that threatened to slip out as it contacted his ribs. The blunt heads of the nails hurt, but it was the way the sharp ends dug in and dragged down his sides at the movement that had him clenching his fists and snarling.

The punk drew back. Blood dripped down from the points of the nails while twin streaks began to drip slowly down Aren's side. Laughter rose up, and Aren's anger rose right alongside it, dizzying and oppressive. He wanted to make them pay. He wanted to drag screams out of their throats for even fucking daring to think those things about his homeboy. He wanted to break out of these stupid chains already and feed them their own teeth. He wanted- he wanted-

The sound of wood creaking and rope snapping pierced the air, foreign amidst the cackles surrounding Aren. No one else reacted to it, and Aren was almost of the mind he'd imagined it until a yowl rose up, as well as a body. One of the punks was thrown above the group and toward the far end of the warehouse, hitting the wall with a loud crash that made everyone jump.

"What the hell!?" Someone yelped. Their laughter had ceased, being replaced with uncertain murmurs. Aren himself felt nervous, a deep dread welling up inside of him, rattling his bones and his nerves. There was something here that hadn't been a moment ago, something deadly and mighty. 

Aren was so used to being at the top of the food chain that he'd be a fucking idiot to not recognize another apex predator by vibe alone. But his gut told him, in no uncertain terms, that this being was above even him. 

Everyone skittered back, letting Aren finally make out the person he was sensing. His breath caught as he realized who it was.

Saiki's previously restrained form rose from his chair as ropes slid off him. He stepped daintily over the ones pooled around his feet, his ankles somehow no longer bound. Something so careful and deliberate about his movements reminded Aren of a cobra about to strike. 

Most astonishingly, Saiki's eyes were shining a pure gold behind his green sunglasses, somehow untempered by the colored shades.

Aren had always considered Saiki to be small and slight, especially compared to him. However, the way the wood of the chair was splintering and cracking under the boy's grip belied a strength Aren hadn't thought Saiki possessed. 

"How dare you," He hissed lowly. Each punctuated word felt like a thrown dart, pointed and sharp, aiming to kill. The sound of Saiki's voice seemed to reverberate throughout Aren's skull, heavy and nearly painful. It rose to a shriek as the boy cried out, "How dare you!"

Saiki spun around and then let go of the chair, using the momentum to hurl it at two of the thugs. It barrelled them over in an explosive shower of wood shards. Aren ducked his head to try and protect his face, but none of them even grazed him.

"To think that things like you would even think to try this against me?" Saiki continued to howl. The shards of the former chair rose and flew to him, circling and pointing themselves toward the group. Something in Aren quivered. "Don't you idiots know anything?!"

Nobody spoke. Even if he had wanted to, Aren didn't think he could. The room felt like it had been sucked of oxygen and warmth, like Saiki was a black hole consuming everything in his path. Powerful and world-ending. 

The group's boss raised his hand jerkily like he'd finally gotten the mind to use the weapon in his hand. Unfortunately for him, the movement quickly caught Saiki's attention, and soon the man was howling in pain at the large wooden shard that shot through his hand and embedded itself there. 

"He's mine, do you fucking understand me?" Saiki snarled, and he was suddenly right in front of him. He picked up the guy by the lapels of his jacket, despite him having a foot on the shorter boy. It was then that Aren realized that his homeboy was fucking floating, and judging by the reactions of those around him, he wasn't the only one seeing it. 

"You're nothing compared to either of us," he continued, his voice still booming and commanding.

Aren couldn't help but feel this was a horrible time for the flustered thrill at Saiki's verbiage. 

Us. He and Aren. Them, together. It was everything he'd been daydreaming about for what was only a few weeks but had felt like forever. 

Saiki's long, dainty fingers fisted tighter into his victim's jacket, and he hoisted him up even more. That one burst of love-struckenness was enough to open the floodgates, and Aren felt another delighted flush run through him at the show of strength, and it was easier to accept than the last. 

The smell of ozone met Aren's nose before the crackle of it met his skin. It made him buzz and shiver, excitement pooling rapidly in his veins. He knew intrinsically that it was raw power, emanating from the boy hovering in front of him. 

In between Saiki's baby pink lips, his teeth gnashed. Aren swore he saw a pearly fang peek out between them. He continued to speak. "You've made a huge mistake, thinking you could try to hurt Kuboyasu. Thinking you wouldn't be punished for it."

Saiki switched his grip from the punk's jacket to his neck, carrying on his little speech without any audible note of strain. "I thought you punks were supposed to be able to tell who's at the top of the food chain," he said, bitingly mocking. "I'm going to explain something to you all. Listen up."

He grinned, expression deranged and feral and perhaps the hottest thing Aren had ever seen. "I'm going to let you go. Not out of the kindness of my heart, but because I'm above being a messenger boy. Tell everyone you know that Kuboyasu Aren is off the fucking market."

The group shuddered. Aren gaped, feeling like a lovesick fool, even amidst the instinctual fear.

“If I ever even hear you think about pulling something like this again," he growled, dropping the now limp body onto the ground with a dull, heavy thud. The moonlight streaming from the window seemed to place a spotlight on Saiki. It highlighted his regal face, cheekbones casting a shadow and making him seem ethereal. "I'll make sure you never think again." 

It went silent. The gang surrounding Saiki trembled in primal fear of the predator before them. The psychic's face smoothed out, then a single, angular brow rose. "It was rather generous of me to spare your insignificant lives, no? What do we say?"

The silence continued for a moment before someone piped up, "Th-thank y-you?" 

Saiki gave a thin, approving smile. "So you can learn." 

The rest of them joined in, frantic gratitudes spilling from their lips in an attempt to keep Saiki appeased. After a couple of seconds, he rolled his eyes. "It's annoying now. Go, before I change my mind." 

Nobody moved, frozen and stupid.  

"GO!" Saiki's voice slammed down on Aren's mind, compressing it, squeezing it, hurting it, but that didn't matter. He had to get out. He thrashed wildly against the chains keeping him from fleeing, trying desperately to obey the command. 

"Not you, Kuboyasu," Saiki said, his voice back to normal, perhaps even gentler than usual. "Calm down."

And just like that, the tension in Aren's body was bleeding away rapidly. He slouched against the pole with a quiet groan. 

The presence Aren had felt since Saiki apparently woke up became a comforting weight rather than a suffocating pressure. He felt what almost felt like a warm embrace all over. The cuts on his side felt like they were being prodded at investigatively by an invisible hand, yet it was entirely unpainful. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine Kusuo physically touching him, brushing at the blooming bruise on his side like a curious cat. 

The others were gone. It was just them, all alone.

Aren found his voice. "Saiki?" He asked hesitantly, unsure who would respond. The powerful deity he'd just seen or-

Or his boy. The one he was pretty sure he was in love with.

Saiki looked at him. From how brightly his eyes shone, it almost burned Aren's own to stare into them. He continued, though, too desperate for a response to let Saiki slip away by not giving him his full attention. 

Saiki finally blinked, and it was just...him. His face was carefully blank, but in just a moment, he was scrubbing a hand over his eyes. Worry budded in Aren as Saiki continued to rub, and eventually, the boy just covered his face with his hands.

"I…have some things to tell you," Saiki whispered. He suddenly laughed, sardonic and bitter, and everything Aren's heart couldn't stand to hear from him. "I'm just so sorry, Kuboyasu, I'm so fucking sorry."

Chapter Text

Good grief. That had been kind of embarrassing. 

Kusuo levitated and incinerated the shards of the former chair he'd been tied to, before drawing back with a sigh and glancing around the warehouse.

He really shouldn't have gotten so emotional. Kusuo had known this day was coming and definitely should have prepared himself beforehand.

Kuboyasu finding out about his powers had been an inevitability once Kusuo had begun to fall for him. He just wished it hadn't been so violent. His powers were terrifying enough without having to factor in such a high-stress situation.

Kusuo was used to kidnappings. He'd been unwillingly partaking in them since he was a toddler. And even if they had tapered off in frequency since he began play-acting at normal, his memory was flawless. As long as he hadn't willfully repressed it, Kusuo could recall anything from infancy on, and that included knowing how to handle himself in such a scenario.

Ergo, it shouldn't have come as a shock. And he definitely shouldn't have flipped out as harshly as he did. 

And yet, here Kusuo was, his breath still rattling through him at the sheer surprise of it all and maybe not a small amount of anxiety. 

His kidnappers had somehow managed to knock him out this time. And that was the part that was throwing him off.

Common sedatives didn't work on Kusuo, not anymore. If it was introduced to his body, he would begin to build the necessary resistance to it. Something like that only worked on him once, and Kusuke had exhausted all of the most readily available options by the time Kusuo was four. His brother had been producing his own sedatives ever since, and Kusuo hadn't been bothered by run-of-the-mill government employees and the occasional cult.

So, no. Nothing that these punks had should have worked on Kusuo. It shouldn't have. There was no way they had access to either the knowledge or the equipment required to manufacture an entirely new sedative. 

There was no way; unless they'd had outside help. 

They'd had to have. After all, Kusuo hadn't been able to read their thoughts, either. There were only two people who knew how to block Kusuo's telepathy: himself and his brother. 

Kusuo was pretty sure Kusuke had figured out the whole germanium business, and that was what he used in his telepathy canceller. But he wouldn't be sure unless he managed to get his hands on and take apart the good griefing thing, so Kusuo would be stuck speculating. Assuming he was right, though, the thugs had likely been wearing the metal in some way. 

And if they knew that, combined with an actually effective drug, then that had to mean that Kusuke was the one who set this all up. 

Kusuo's hands shook with tightly contained rage. While he wasn't exactly alright with his brother meddling in his life, he usually knew to stay away from Kusuo's pet idiots. Toritsuka had been the first straw. Kusuo thought he'd made it very clear what his opinion was on Kusuke's abuse of his relations. 

Apparently not. Or, maybe this was like all the other times, and Kusuke just didn't care. He never cared when Kusuo told him no. No matter how much he meant it, it was just another barrier for Kusuke to gleefully trample over, for him to completely ignore and disregard. Because of course Kusuo would put up with it, what else could he do? 

He wouldn't kill his brother, and any attempts to defend himself were met with a scolding from his parents. So he'd just learned to have thick skin and deal with it. 

Until he made the mistake of getting close to people. 

Kusuo growled under his breath. It sucked having to be the bigger person when all he wanted to do was kick his older brother's ass. Or at least make him feel even a tiny fraction of the stress Kusuo felt when dealing with him. 

Kusuke would probably tell their parents, though. Kusuo sniffed and looked up haughtily. At least he knew how to play fair. His brother could learn a thing or two. And honestly, at what had just happened, Kusuo was itching to be the one to teach him. 

Kusuo gave the warehouse a final investigative look. Any evidence of people's presence had been wiped clean, up to and including the dent he'd accidentally made when he'd thrown that guy at the wall. 

Whoopsie. But could you really blame him? He'd awoken to the blackened pain crackling across Kuboyasu's mind, and he'd reacted accordingly. 

Kusuo was really just stalling at this point. Despite the automatic instinct to keep Kuboyasu close after what had just transpired, his cowardice won out in the end. Kusuo had sent him outside under the guise of needing to hide the evidence.

It was true. It just hadn't really required Kuboyasu to leave. But Kusuo knew when he stepped outside, he'd have to face the guy and explain everything. 

And Kusuo was afriad. 

He might lose Kuboyasu over this. His powers could be horrifying. And not only that, but Kusuo knew how much Kuboyasu despised liars and valued loyalty. 

At the very least, Kusuo would probably get yelled at. 

He tilted his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. Good grief, this was why getting close to others was such a pain. It led to situations like this, where his chest was tight and his stomach queasy. Kusuo stretched his arms above his head, expanding his chest in the hopes of coaxing air back into his suddenly breathless lungs. 

It didn't work entirely, but that was fine. Kusuo could make everything okay. It was alright if Kuboyasu decided he wanted nothing to do with such a freak of nature. Kusuo didn't even care that much, after all.

He pressed his hands to his face, gouging his nails into the skin around his eyes. He didn't. He didn't care. What was some stupid punk to a practical god, anyway?

And wasn't this what he had wanted? An excuse to give up on his ridiculous crush? 

...Kuboyasu was starting to worry about him. Kusuo had floundered for long enough. He sucked in a sharp breath, then let it slowly filter out. 

He dropped his hands from his face, settling smoothly into his usual apathy. 

It was all fine. It didn't have to matter at all. 

It was dark outside, which meant a lot of time had passed since they'd gotten nabbed. Aren had just begun thinking about going in to check on Saiki when the boy stepped out.

His clothes were pristine and his hair was unruffled, as if he had just gotten ready for the day instead of being kidnapped earlier. What was more, there was no trace of Saiki's earlier mania. His face was perfectly smooth, entirely devoid of any emotion. 

So, he looked relatively normal, at least. Aren, for one, wasn't feeling so stable. 'Off kilter' would be the polite way of wording it. 'Completely freaking the fuck out' would be the term he would use, though. 

Aren swallowed. Everything he'd been thinking, the questions he'd had lined up, had fled the moment he came face to face with Saiki. Now, he was totally blanking. The only thing that he managed was an awkward "Hey."

Aren could hit himself. That was what he opened with? Seriously!?

Saiki nodded in response. Aren looked to the side to try and avoid the boy's seemingly disinterested gaze. "What I saw in there, I'm gonna go ahead and say that I didn't imagine it."

Saiki shifted but said nothing. Aren suddenly remembered the café, how fingers seemed to have indented the porcelain sink, how the door had unlocked even though it seemed like Saiki hadn't moved. 

He'd meant to think about that more, but he'd forgotten somehow. Maybe he'd been so swept up by pastel, cotton-candy-flavored feelings that nothing seemed to matter as much as wooing the boy currently standing next to him. 

Aren didn't know what to feel. His usual anger at something he didn't understand wasn't forthcoming. A feeling of betrayal might be apt, but for what exactly? Saiki's apparent superpowers? It honestly wasn't really Aren's business. 

It was a bit disappointing that Saiki hadn't told him, but more because Aren had wanted to be someone the boy could confide in.

Aren made himself turn back to Saiki. The other teen was staring straight ahead, his expression still serene. "Saiki, can you just...tell me what you can? For me?"

The last part was Aren playing dirty, he knew. But he couldn't deny its effectiveness. Somehow, Saiki seemed to soften from the statue he so often became. "It's a lot, Kuboyasu," he said, his tone as soft and even as always. "We could be here for a while."

"Then I'll wait," Aren answered. "I'll wait and I'll listen. I promise."

Saiki still didn't turn to look at him, but Aren's heart thudded as the boy smiled. It was small and faint, exhausted, even, but it was there. And Aren had been the one to coax it out. 

"Sixteen years ago," Saiki suddenly began. "An ordinary couple gave birth to a not-so ordinary boy. I was born with extraordinary powers, the kind you'd read about in manga. ESP, psychic abilities, super powers...whatever you want to call them." 

He sighed deeply. "As I grew, they grew with me. I developed new abilities, and the ones I already had just continued to grow exponentially in strength. Until eventually, I started wearing these things." He pointed to his head, gesturing at what Aren was only now registering as a rather odd design for hairclips. "I've influenced the world into believing that these are hairclips, but they're really limiters. They're designed to keep my powers under control, to keep me from completely destroying the earth with just a thought."

Aren felt heat prickle across his neck. He had to be exaggerating, right?

"I'm not," Saiki replied. "I'm telling you the whole truth right now. I'm just too overpowered. I've changed the world with my mind control. Your hair color used to be something you'd only see in anime. But because I was born with pink hair, I changed that. And now everyone has been affected."

That was...insane. All Aren had ever known was the myriad of colors he saw whenever he looked out at a group of people. It had been different at some point? What color had people's hair been?

Wait. Had Saiki been answering-

"Your thoughts?" The boy in question said dryly. "Yes. I have been."

Telepathy...?

It probably said a lot that Aren's first thought wasn't about any deep, dark secrets he held or the invasion of privacy. Instead, his first immediate reaction was a flustered horror at the fact that Saiki apparently knew everything about Aren's not-so-insignificant infatuation with him. 

"And I'm sorry about that," Saiki said. Man, that whole 'responding to his thoughts' business was kinda creepy. "I should have dissuaded your feelings from the very beginning."

Oh? Hear that, everyone?

Yeah, that was the sound of Aren's heart absolutely cracking down the middle, then into tiny little pieces from there. 

"Oh," Aren said. His voice sounded choked up, and he cleared his throat to try and dislodge the building lump in his throat. His immediate emotional reaction was honestly pretty embarrassing. 

"I'm so sorry, Kuboyasu," Saiki rushed out, finally turning to look at him with wide eyes. "I wanted to avoid hurting you like this, but I just was selfish, and I didn't stop you. It wasn't your fault, I promise, I just think I enjoyed it too much, and I thought it would be okay because it just felt so nice-"

"W-wait," Aren said, rapidly blinking back the heat in his eyes. "What do you mean you enjoyed it?"

Saiki jumped slightly, his face pinkening rapidly. "I didn't say that."

"Yeah, you did," Aren frowned. He leaned closer to perform an incredibly important investigation of Saiki's pretty face. "I heard it."

"Nuh-uh," Saiki huffed. 

Aren leaned even closer. Saiki continued to redden obligingly. "Yuh-huh. I heard ya."

"Shut up," he hissed. "What do you know?"

"Your secret, for one thing," Aren shot back. 

Saiki's shoulders slouched. Aw, man. Aren hadn't meant to completely decimate the playful vibes he'd managed to kindle. "Kuboyasu," he eventually said. "You don't want this. You don't want me. It's a lot to take on, a lot to put up with."

"How do you figure?" Aren said, a bit miffed at the words. "I know damn well what I want. Is it so horrible that what I want is you?"

Saiki swallowed, still looking at him with wide eyes. "Everything I do revolves around my powers. I even wear glasses to keep myself from turning people to stone. I haven't been fair, letting you feel so strongly for me under false assumptions. I'm not the person you think I am." He turned away, voice quiet. "I'm...kind of a shitty person."

Oh, that was-

That was pretty heartbreaking. 

"Why?" Aren asked, raising a brow. "Was it the whole 'saving me' part?"

"I wouldn't have had to in the first place if I had just-"

"Did you, like, order the hit on us or something?" Aren asked incredulously. He reached over to grip the boy's shoulder, coaxing him to turn back around. "Saiki, I really like you, dude, but I've come to realize you can sometimes make some pretty big leaps in logic."

"It is my fault," Saiki snapped. 

"If anything, it was my fault, homie. They probably nabbed you because you were with me."

"No, they didn't," Saiki insisted. He pushed his hand off his shoulder and glared up at Aren. "Do you really wanna know what happened? My brother told me to stay away from you, and when I didn't, this is what happened. I dragged you down into my mess, knowing very well what would happen."

Aren blinked. Rolled that little phrase over in his head.

That didn't seem very hunky dory, now did it?

"He threatened you after he found out you were hanging out with me?"

Saiki shook his head. "He threatened you when he found out. His threats don't usually work on me, but..." 

He bit his lip. Anger swelled hotly in Aren in response to the words. "You mean to tell me he threatens you often?"

Saiki's expression spasmed oddly before smoothing out once more. "It's not really threatening, per se. It's not as thought any threats he made would be effective. And I don't really tend to get close enough to you anyone for him to leverage them over me."

Aren closed his eyes, suddenly feeling very hurt on behalf of his homeboy. "And you don't think there's even a possibility of there being a connection between those two? That you don't get close because of him?"

Saiki didn't respond, but Aren knew in his gut that the question had struck a chord with him. 

"Look, Saiki," Aren said, stepping closer to the boy. His face was still blank and empty, but he didn't move away. "Despite what you think, and despite what happened, I still really like you. And I don't think that it's alright for your brother to be controlling you like that."

A stray thought crossed Aren's mind, fleeting and daring. He bit his lip as he considered it. 

It sounded insane, but everything he'd just discovered was on the same level. It didn't seem so far out there, especially now that he practically had confirmation that Saiki felt that same way. 

Besides, Aren thought as he licked his lips. It was too tantalizing for him not to pick at it. 

"Give me a week."

Saiki stiffened. "What do you mean?" He asked haltingly.

"I mean, give it a week to try and make this work," Aren said, motioning between the two of them. "Regardless of how it turns out, I still want to help you with your brother. But I can't deny the fact that this is still something I really want, and I think you do, too."

Dare he?

"I think you're just afraid, Saiki."

"Don't be so bold, punk," Saiki said after a moment. There was no malice in his voice, just something defeated and quiet. "You think I can be afraid?"

"I do. I think you're afraid a lot," Aren replied, his heart pounding but head finally clear. "But I don't think that's your fault. I want to be the person that makes you feel safe. Give me a week to prove that to you."

Saiki sucked in a breath before slowly pushing it out through his teeth. "Good grief, you really are persistant, aren't you?"

Oh, Aren knew what that meant. He fought to keep from smiling as Saiki rolled his eyes. "Fine. But you need to treat this as the trial run it is. If you decide being with me isn't for you, or even if you decide you'd rather not see me in general-"

"I'd never leave you like that," Aren frowned. The thought alone was an affront to his honor. 

Saiki went quiet for yet another second before a soft noise escaped him. Aren startled as he realized that it was a chuckle, worn and saddened as it was. "No. You wouldn't."

"Is that a yes?" Aren persisted hopefully. 

"...Yes. One week. Then I'll let you give me an answer," Saiki finally acquiesced. 

"Fuck yeah," Aren grinned, feeling himself balloon with almost overwhelming joy. He bounced eagerly on his toes and swung his arms back and forth. "Okay! That means you gotta let me walk you home then~."

"What a pain," Saiki sighed, fondness evident in his tone. "If it'll really make you happy, I guess."

Aren beamed. Another bold thought flew through his mind, and his heart began to pound once more.

He reached over. Saiki didn't move away, not when Aren brushed his fingertips with his own or even when he moved closer to lace them together. 

"This okay?" He asked, just in case. 

Saiki swallowed. "Yeah," he whispered. He raised his brows and looked down at their linked hands in wonder. "It really is."

The other teen's hand squeezed ever so gently. Aren squeezed it right back. 

Aren was about to begin leading them out when Saiki suddenly piped up. "Wait."

Aren turned. Saiki was still looking down. "You didn't get to ask earlier. If you want, you can...call me Kusuo. And I'd like to call you by your first name, if the offer is still open."

Aren took a breath. Then another. And a few more until it no longer felt like he would explode." Alright!" He said. His voice cracked, and he coughed into his free fist. "Cool. Then call me Aren, Kusuo.”

Kusuo turned up to him and smiled, shy and pretty. The sweet expression made Aren want to swoon. 

Damn. He'd never felt so light after a kidnapping before. Maybe Kusuo's shitty brother had done him a favor.

Kuboyasu's hand was very warm. 

No, Aren's hand was very warm. 

Kusuo swallowed. His stomach fluttered at the thought of the guy's given name. It practically flipped at the reminder that he was holding his hand, and it was calloused and rough and warm. 

And gentle. Aren's grip was very gentle. Kusuo's hand felt like it was tingling. 

Aren was humming something. It was low and soft, and the rumble of it seeped into Kusuo's core, filling it with an almost dizzying furl of affection. 

Aren's voice had always had that effect on him, though, hadn't it? It was just impossible to brush off now because Aren knew about Kusuo's powers and feelings and still hadn't pushed him away. 

Kusuo looked down briefly to make sure he hadn't started floating. It certainly felt like it, but his feet were currently moving in tandem with Aren's. 

Kusuo couldn't recall the last time he felt so at peace. Despite its foreign nature, it was almost addictive from the get-go. He wanted to remind himself to stay distant, to remember that there was a possibility, no matter how admittedly slim, that Kusuo wouldn't get to have this in a mere week. 

He couldn't stop it, though. He'd been teetering on the edge of want and desire for this boy, and now that Kusuo finally had him in his grasp, he was toppling over and sliding down that cliff uncontrollably. 

Worse, he couldn't bring himself to regret it. Maybe he would in the morning, when the bubbling joy of not being left alone had finally slipped away. 

Kusuo wouldn't hold his breath, though, even if he was a psychic. 

Of course, it had to come to an end at some point. Kusuo let Aren walk him all the way up to his front gate but stopped short of letting him walk to the front door. 

"Aw, why?" Aren whined. Surprisingly, instead of grating his nerves, the pleading sound of his voice made Kusuo melt. 

He had to stay strong, though. "I don't want you to kill my brother."

Even though Kusuo kind of did, but he was better than that. Good potential partners don't let their maybe-boyfriend (!!!) get charged with second-degree murder, especially not on the first night. 

"You do, though," Aren sighed forlornly. Kusuo pressed his lips together so he didn't laugh. The last thing he wanted to do was encourage the guy. 

Seeing that Kusuo wasn't going to budge, Aren finally relented. "Fine, fine. But I make no promises about the future!"

Kusuo finally gave in and smiled. Aren tilted his head cutely and grinned back. His eyes crinkled happily at the corners, and Kusuo blinked to try and keep the image visible for longer. 

Aren cleared his throat, and Kusuo startled as he realized he'd been staring like an idiot for a minute. He dropped the other guy's hand with a huffed-out "Good grief" and clutched it to himself embarrassedly. Thankfully, Aren spared his fragile pride and didn't comment. 

The former punk continued to look at him warmly, his thoughts resounding with such a vibrant adoration that it made Kusuo want to squirm. "Goodnight, Kusuo."

Kusuo felt so off-kilter, but it wasn't bad. It felt like fluffy clouds and softly popping bubbles. He swallowed, almost overwhelmed. It made him want to do something stupid because he just felt so stupid. 

Kusuo leaned up to plant a quick kiss on Aren's cheek. His face felt hot, but when he pulled back, he could see Aren's rapidly reddening. 

"Goodnight, Aren. I'll see you tomorrow."

A vein throbbed to life on Aren's forehead, and his thoughts were just a whole lot of incoherent yelling. Something like fondness thrummed through Kusuo. 

He could feel Aren's eyes on his back as he walked up to his door and unlocked it. He held his hand up toward the boy in the wave. Aren didn't wave back, instead standing there stiffly with his arms crossed. 

Kusuo might have broken him a bit. He'd know more by tomorrow.

Kusuo stepped in and shut the door with a deep sigh, letting himself slouch against it for just a moment. His bones ached with exhaustion. Despite how pleasant that walk had been, the moments before had still been incredibly stressful. "I'm home," he finally called out, straightening up to take off his shoes. 

"Little Ku? "His mom called, rushing out. She stood in front of him for a moment before reaching out to embrace him. "Where were you? I was starting to get worried..."

Kusuo let himself snuggle her back for a brief second before pulling away. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize how late it had gotten."

"Kusuo!" His dad said, poking his head out to the doorway. "You shouldn't scare us like that, son. You had your mother worried sick!" 

"Yeah, where were you, little brother?" Kusuke asked, stepping around the corner to give a smug smile to Kusuo. 

Kusuo let his eyes narrow. This guy had the gall to stand there after what he'd just done? Aren could have gotten seriously hurt had Kusuo not woken up. He was lucky that Kusuo wouldn't smite him on the spot. 

Kusuo would just do this instead. "I was out," Kusuo said simply. "With Aren."

Kusuke blanched. Their mother tilted her head. "Aren...?"

Kusuo waited a moment for the lightbulb to go off. She then gasped in delight, covering her mouth with her hands as she stared at her youngest son. "Oh my goodness! Isn't that the Kuboyasu boy that has been coming over recently?"

Kusuo smiled. "Yeah, mom. He is."

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she swooped in to hug him again with a happy squeal. Kusuo let her because he knew how ecstatic she was and did his best to ignore the burning confusion on both Kuniharu's and Kusuke's faces.

Chapter Text

In the end, that first week hadn't actually been the trial run Kusuo had originally insisted on. That was fine, though. Deep down, Kusuo had known that it wouldn't be. Aren was right; Kusuo had just been afraid. 

He didn't regret it. That week had been rife with conversations that had needed to occur, perhaps some that had been put off for far too long. It had forced Aren, at least, to slow down and actually work out the important aspects before throwing himself head-first into their relationship.

Even if he had really wanted to. His Aren has always been so eager to rush ahead and experience the thrills of life. Admittedly, his passion excited Kusuo a little bit, too. But he would never tell Aren on principle. 

Wouldn't do to encourage the guy, after all. 

The first big conversation comes in the form of his three fellow psychics forcibly dragging him to Cafe Mami a mere day after Kusuo and Aren's talk.

Aiura and Toritsuka walked ahead of Akechi and Kusuo, arguing about this and that as they did. Kusuo blanched at the sight of the place he'd had his little public breakdown at, and Akechi had simply slid his hand into Kusuo's in response. 

That had given Kusuo the motivation he needed to follow the others in. At the very least, it kept him from running away.

As always, they let Kusuo pick the booth. And once they settled in, their orders placed to a thankfully unfamiliar waitress, even Aiura and Toritsuka had settled down to grill Kusuo for the details. 

"Sooo...?" Aiura drawled, dragging her fingertip across the table as she did. A smile slowly bloomed across her cheeks. "Gonna spill the deets, Kit Kat? Or are you gonna make us drag it out of you?"

Kusuo shrugged, just to be a brat. They all laughed a bit at that.

"What do you want to know?" Kusuo finally asked, swinging his legs contentedly. 

"How did it happen, babes?" "I have certain notions as to who confessed to who first, but I would still like confirmation!" "Did you get to cop a feel?"

Everyone turned to look at Toritsuka, who looked around innocently. "What? Tits, don't tell me you wouldn't want to, too."

"I mean, yeah. I know great boobs when I see them, obvi," Aiura rolled her eyes. "But that's not really Kit Kat's style. "

No, it wasn't. And even though it wasn't technically official yet, that was still Kusuo's maybe-probably eventual boyfriend they were talking about. He scowled and shot them a cutting glare. They began to sweat and shifted nervously. 

"I don't believe that Kusuo enjoys you two talking about his partner like that. Though he usually doesn't subscribe to certain conventions, especially those dealing with romance, I'm certain he would experience some irritation at hearing another speak in such a way about Kuboyasu. Especially since he already has a track record of jealousy."

Ah. That was certainly one way to get Kusuo to stop mad-dogging the others. He very much did not squeak because Akechi frankly had no clue what he was talking about. 

Him? Kusuo Saiki? Jealous? Don't make him laugh.

Akechi smiled. His innocent eyes did him no favors because Kusuo knew what lay in their depths. "Sorry, I know you tend to be very sensitive about your image. But you can be a bit possessive, don't you agree?"

No.

Aiura cackled. "Okay, boo, we'll lay off. But pleaaaase, tell us what happened."

"Pay for my coffee jelly and I'll think about it," Kusuo responded, propping his head on the table with his hands and peering down his nose at the gyaru. She rolled her eyes and elbowed Toritsuka.

"Ow- what!?"

"Pay for the damn jelly," she ordered. 

"Why should I? He hasn't done anything for me."

"I've spared your life," Kusuo offered wryly. Tortisuka gulped. 

"Fine, fine, since you all love picking on me so much!" He relented, scooting away from Aiura. "I'll pay for your damn treat, you cheapass."

Kusuo raised a brow but ultimately decided to let the comment slide. Aiura poked at him from across the table. "Are you gonna spill or not, toots?"

Kusuo smoothed out his shirt. "If you must know, Aren and I-"

They all three made noises at the sound of the boy's given name. Kusuo tried not to grin or seem pleased. 

"Had gotten kidnapped."

"What?" "Haha, very funny." "I can't quite tell if you're joking, Kusuo."

"I'm not," he answered Akechi. "My brother ordered a gang to kidnap us so I would be forced to reveal my powers to save us."

"Your brother?" Toritsuka gasped, straightening up. "You mean that guy who-"

Kusuo kicked the fake monk under the table. Toritsuka swore and bent over to clutch at his leg. "Who did nothing, nothing, nevermind- ow fuck, man, seriously? That hurttt."

"What the hell, Kusuo," Aiura blurted, frowning. "Is that why you were so torn up the other day?"

Torn up? Kusuo would never get so emotional.

"And he apparently has done things of a similar nature before," Akechi noted, blinking at Kusuo. "Seeing as you're attempting to keep Toritsuka silent about something to do with your brother. You know, I do vaguely remember him! When I had wet myself at your birthday party, I had caught a glimpse of him. Of course, there were a few other times in which I interacted with him more, but you were always there to drag me away."

For good reason. Kusuke had never liked his friends, even if Akechi had been the only one even approaching that title for a while. He'd always thought of other people as beneath Kusuo. 

Aiura pointed a glamorous nail toward Kusuo. "Don't think you're off the hook forever, babes. We're gonna come back to that eventually."

Good grief. Kusuo said nothing in response to that, instead moving on to finish his story. "I saved him. We're gonna try things out this week before we make it official."

"Of course you are," Toritsuka snorted. "You can't just ever do things?"

Of course not. What did this pervert think Kusuo was? Him? No, Kusuo wasn't nearly as stupid. 

"Well, I for one am very happy for you, Kusuo," Akechi smiled. "I'm sure Kuboyasu will make for a great romantic partner. Of course, if he doesn't-"

"We'll kick his sorry punk ass," Aiura finished with a peace sign.

Kusuo couldn't completely fight off the small smile that formed. 

“Hey, Kusuo,” Aren said. “Heads up!” 

Kusuo turned around just in time to catch the bottle Aren had chucked at him. Despite being fully aware of the guy's intentions — and not really minding all that much — he still raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "And if I hadn't caught it?" He asked haughtily. 

Aren chuckled. "If that were to happen, I'd be apologizing for weeks."

"I'd expect nothing less," Kusuo replied, turning away so Aren couldn't see his lips twitching upward. The other boy approached the bench Kusuo was on, swinging his legs over to sit down smoothly next to him. 

"That's yours, by the way," Aren smiled, popping the cap on his soda. Kusuo looked down at the bottle and finally realized it was coffee. 

Kusuo swallowed, feeling very cared for. "Thanks."

They were on the school roof, away from prying ears and eyes. The door to the roof was technically supposed to be locked during lunchtime, but, well.

Kusuo would do a lot for peace and quiet. It just so happened that he got to be alone with Aren, too. 

Aren tossed an arm over Kusuo's shoulders and pulled him close. Kusuo tried his best not to preen under the attention, even as he pressed willingly into Aren's side. 

Death may or may not be currently standing in front of Aren. And it apparently took the form of the world's most perfect, pretty girl. 

Maybe. Aren wasn't sure if the frustration he felt pouring off of Teruhashi was aimed toward him or not. But he could definitely guess. Even if he and Kusuo weren't fully out with their relationship just yet, he didn't doubt Teruhashi's ability to know everything that was happening in her domain. 

Even though he may be nervous, Aren would never be rude. "Hey, Teruhashi," he greeted. They were in a different spot than last time, tucked away near the water fountains. He had to hand it to the girl; she really knew where to go for privacy. 

Impressive, considering her abilities.

She smiled at him. "Hi, Kuboyasu." She took a breath and swung her arms back and forth, brushing her skirt. "I can't help but notice that Saiki has seemed…happier recently. Are you two…?"

Aren instinctively smiled back, then registered her words. "Yeah. We've been taking it slow." 

He hesitated a moment, wondering if it was his place to ask her this. Would it be a dick move? It might come across as him rubbing salt in the wound. 

"How have you been?" He finally got out, scrutinizing her expression to see her reaction. 

She didn't seem offended. "I've been fine. I've just been thinking these past couple of days," she replied. 

"About?" Aren asked before he could stop himself. 

Teruhashi was silent for a moment, her sweet eyes dissecting him and his intentions. Aren shifted uncomfortably, and she turned her face away. "I've been trying to figure out why I'm not disappointed that you two became an item."

…Huh!?

"But- I thought-" Aren stuttered as he blinked rapidly. "I thought you liked him? Even before me."

"And I do," Teruhaashi sighed. "I like him a lot. And I thought my…my jealousy over you and any others crushing on him was because I was in love with him. But I realized it's not just those people."

She reached up to fiddle with one of her blue locks, something quiet and sad in her expression. "I don't just envy you. I envy Kaido and Nendo, and Aiura and that Akechi kid. Just anyone that seems close to Saiki. The thing that tore me up most when you started pursuing him wasn't the fact that I could lose him as a boyfriend."

She blinked harshly. "It was the fact that…yet another person was making moves to get closer to him when I've ever even been able to just…be with him."

Aren stared for a moment, his thoughts racing as he tried to pick out the message hidden in Teruhashi's words. Finally, he cleared his throat and asked, "Teruhashi, I might be wrong, but did you just want to be his friend or something?"

She didn't respond right away, staring down at the floor in front of her. Her face was rife with something akin to shame. It made Aren want to protect and comfort her. "I was so excited when I started becoming interested in Saiki. I had never had even an inkling of romantic interest in anyone." She brought her dainty hands up and examined them, her voice lowering to a whisper. "I could always tell people that I was paying more attention to my studies, but the truth is, I was always afraid of what I would tell people when I was older and I didn't have that excuse. I thought that I'd never…" 

She cleared her throat softly. "He's the first person to never show attraction to me. I just couldn't help how excited that made me. My feelings were so  strong,  Kuboyasu. I loved being around him and I wanted to be closer. And I had really hoped that I would finally be in love. Because what kind of girl would I be if I wasn't?"

"And it hurts because- because I know deep down that I'm not really in love with him. I just wanted to be his friend. And the fact that you beat me to both those goal points hurt, because it means I'm not meant for lovers or friends."

"Teruhashi…" Aren breathed. A soft noise escaped her, and she sniffled. It tore into his chest. "There's nothing wrong with not wanting romance." 

"Isn't there?" She asked.

"Hell no," Aren responded. "If that ain't something you want, then you don't have to do it. And of course you're made for friends. You have Yumehara, don't you? And-" He looked to the side, suddenly shy. "You have me, too. If you'll have me. And I'm certain Kusuo would open up if you talked to him."

He slowly reached out to wrap an arm around her. Aren was acutely aware that he may be overstepping his boundaries, but he knew he had made the correct move when her small hands gripped his front as her shoulders shook. "There's nothin' wrong with you. I promise. And if anyone gives you shit, me  and  Kusuo would be there to back you up."

Teruhashi wasn't loud as she cried. She stayed mostly silent as she sobbed into Aren's jacket, and she eventually pulled back with merely a shaky breath. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her face flushed, but it did nothing to diminish her beauty. She stepped back and offered Aren a tiny smile. "Thank you, Kuboyasu. For everything."

Aren smiled dazedly at Kusuo. He really was a little cutie. And awfully pretty, too. 

Aren grinned wider as Kusuo's cheeks continued to pinken. Walking home with him was the best idea Aren had ever come up with. It was so nice to see the boy unwind slightly from the hyper-vigilance he kept himself in at school. 

"Do you have to do that?" Kusuo asked, pouting up at him. 

Aren cocked his head innocently. "Do what?" Did he mean thinking about how sweet the boy walking next to him was?

"That!" 

"I dunno what you're talking about," Aren shrugged. Kusuo made an affronted noise, and Aren bit back a laugh. 

Right before Aren was about to drop Kusuo off, the boy held out a hand to stop him. Aren blinked. "What's up?"

Kusuo scowled. The expression looked mad cute on him. "I can't believe you didn't notice." When Aren just continued to look confused, Kusuo reached into his school bag and pulled out an oddly familiar-looking notebook. "You left it on your desk," Kusuo explained, turning away and shutting his eyes. 

"Aww, you do care!" 

"Shut up! You're dumb and mean to me," Kusuo huffed, his nose scrunching. Aren laughed broadly in response. 

Jokes on him, though, because when Kusuo stepped close for a peck on the cheek, Aren flushed up to his gills. At least he didn't start bluescreening like last time.

"Looking for somethin'?" Aren drawled. He was sitting backward on Kusuo's desk chair, and he propped his chin on one hand while letting his other arm dangle over the back of it. He was completely at home and comfortable in his soon-to-be-official boyfriend's room. Aren knew where he was wanted. 

Unlike this fucker. Aren caught Kusuke Saiki's face twitch in surprise before it was sequestered away behind that infuriating smile. "Ah. Kuboyasu. My baby brother isn't here right now. So why are you?"

"Your mom let me in," Aren grinned back wolfishly. "Didn't you know? She's very fond of me."

The elder Saiki's smile twitched slightly. "So I've seen."

Aren looked him dead in his soulless, visible eye. "You know, you've been causin' my Kusuo-"

Kusuke tensed. A bolt of delight shot through Aren in response.

"-A fuckton of stress, "Aren finished. "I'm sure you can guess, but I really don't appreciate that."

"Does Kusuo know you're here?" The other asked. His voice was no longer the lilting, teasing tone that served to piss Aren right off. It was dark and monotonous, similar to Kusuo when he got angry. The similarity just served to anger Aren even more.

This was Kusuo's older brother, someone his baby had lived with for years. The thought of this guy treating Kusuo like that as a little kid made a hot rage flare through Aren's veins. 

"No, he doesn't. Wanted to surprise him and all."

And, Aren had a gut feeling that this fucking creep would come snooping around Kusuo's room. Call it supernatural instinct, maybe.

The older Saiki finally dropped his smile in favor of a sneer. "Honestly, I don't know what my sweet baby brother sees in you."

Aren calmly swung his leg over the chair and stood up. Saiki continued to blather. "You're a punk, aren't you? How do I even know you won't lead him astray? And I'll probably have to inform my parents of your past, too, since it's important that they know what their youngest is getting himself involved in-"

Aren strolled up and cut off Saiki's little speech with his fist, slamming it into the blonde's nose with a satisfying  crack.  He fell backward onto his ass, reaching up to cover his suddenly-bleeding nose as he stared at Aren in astonishment.

"That was for the fucking kidnapping business," Aren spat. 

"You've got to be even stupider than I thought," Saiki hissed back once he'd found his voice. "I have cameras in here. I can get your sorry ass locked up-"

"Yeah, yeah. I know about the cameras, too. And that's somethin' else I ain't very pleased with. But I'll deal with that later," Aren growled. "You're not gonna be telling anyone anything, you hear?"

"Why should I?" Saiki leered. 

Aren looked down at him, feeling disgust well in him the longer he stuck around the guy. "I've discovered that Kusuo is a bit of a mama's boy. And because I've met your dad, I'm gonna go ahead and assume you're the same way."

Aren knew he had struck gold when a bit of the color drained from Saiki's face. "I won't spill any of the shit you pulled as long as you keep your fucking mouth shut. I'll even get Kusuo to back me up."

"He wouldn't," Saiki huffed back. Aren reached down to drag him closer by his collar. 

"He fucking would. Whatever control you had over him before is weakening, you disgusting shitstain," Aren snarled. He felt his vein throb in his forehead. "And as long as I stick around, I'm gonna work to undo whatever damage you and your dad have done. So, yes, he would back me up."

Saiki parted his lips, looking at Aren with a wide eye. "You-"

He didn't seem to know what to say. Aren snorted to see it. "Here's what we're gonna do. If Kusuo happens to mention me, you're gonna put in good word, especially to that dad of yours. Then, we can all forget that little incident ever happened. Okay?"

He patted Saiki's cheek, perhaps a touch too aggressively. "Imma start calling you Kusuke, actually," Aren smiled, knowing his teeth were gleaming and sharp. "Since we'll be in-laws one day, 'n all."

He dropped Kusuke back down, who fell with a small  oof. "You're making me sick. Get the fuck out of here, punk."

Kusuke glared up at him, his jaw clenched, and face enraged. But he made the smart choice and pushed himself up before slinking out of Kusuo's bedroom. 

When Kusuo inevitably came home, he entered his room with a carefully hidden expression of delight. But Aren could still see it in the softness of his eyes. He got up to squeeze his little almost-boyfriend, who returned the hug after a moment. 

It only took about five minutes for Kusuo to read Aren's mind and find out what he had done. "You shouldn't have done that," he nagged exasperatedly. But he instantly betrayed himself by swooping in to plant a soft kiss on Aren's cheekbone. 

It was getting close to the end of the week, and Aren might be getting really fucking excited.

"Relax," Kusuo reminded him. They were sitting with Shun and Nendo again, enjoying lunch against the backdrop of chatter and people.

"I am," Aren insisted. "I'm always chill, homie."

Kusuo gave him that fond look, the one he saved especially for Aren, before standing from his seat. "I'm gonna use the restroom," he excused himself, and slunk away into the crowd. 

Aren watched him go, and when he looked back, his best friend was staring at him with stars in his eyes. "Did I just imagine that, or was Saiki looking at you like you hung the moon or something?" He whisper-yelled. 

Aren beamed at him. "I know!" He whispered very loudly back. "It's so crazy, dog."

"Does that mean you guys have...?" He asked, lacing his two hands together. Aren nodded enthusiastically, and Shun bounced in his seat. 

"What are you guys whisperin' about?" Nendo asked. 

"Don't worry about it," Shun dismissed quickly. Nendo shrugged and went back to his food. "Does that mean the plan worked?"

"Kinda?" Aren squeaked. It had gotten rushed ahead by certain illegal proceedings, but Aren wasn't so sure Shun was ready to hear about that. "We got on first name basis with each other."

Shun seemed ecstatic. "That's so cool," he sighed dreamily. "My two top generals, together as one."

Chunni mannerisms aside, Aren had to agree. It was pretty cool. 

When Kusuo came back, it was with a knowing look and an eyebrow raise aimed at Shun. He didn't seem upset about Aren's gushing. Instead, there was an aura of calm satisfaction that gave Aren the confidence to lace their fingers under the table. 

The week was nearing to a close, and Kusuo needed to get this part out of the way. While he'd rather not have Kusuke here for it, there was no telling when his older brother would finally leave, so Kusuo would just have to suck it up.

Kusuo bit back a sigh so his mother didn't worry after him. Good grief, his parents had always been insufferable about his love life. It just so happened that neither of the two major contenders ended up being the one Kusuo picked. 

Over dinner was probably one of the easiest ways to just get it over and done with. And that was where Kusuo found himself, picking at his food as he tried to figure out what to lead with.

"Mama, you'll never guess what happened at work today," his dad grinned, turning to his wife. Kusuke hummed and made eye contact with Kusuo from across the table, tilting his head and giving him a look. 

Ugh, Kusuo would never get over Kusuke's odd ability to read his intentions. But he was right. If Kusuo stalled, he'd never get a word in amidst their parents gushing. 

He cleared his throat. He just needed to take the plunge. "Mom, dad, I'm going to start dating someone."

Silence. Kuniharu's fork clattered against his plate loudly. Both of his parents looked at him in astonishment while Kusuke's typical smile remained firmly on his face. Kusuo continued to eat, ignoring the burn of their stares. 

Finally, his mom spoke up. "Oh my goodness, my little baby is growing up!" she cried. "Who is it? Is it Teruhashi?"

"Or maybe that busty one," Kuniharu suggested. "Though, I'd be surprised if they're still interested, given that Kusuomon is so grumpy!" He joked. 

"Neither. It's the boy that's been coming by, Aren," Kusuo said simply. 

His father's mind blanked out temporarily while his mom squealed. "Oh my goodness! Ohhh, I knew I liked that boy. And he seems so well mannered and kind. Kusuo that's so great, you should invite him to dinner so we can all talk to him!"

"You're dating a boy?" Kuniharu asked in astonishment. "Well, I guess if it makes you happy..."

"I'm sure it will," Kusuke jumped in. Kusuo couldn't help but glance at him in moderate shock. "And he seems...protective."

"That's good," their mom smiled. "Little Ku needs someone to look out for him."

Kusuo couldn't quite agree, and judging by the expressions on his dad's and brother's faces, they couldn't either. But she seemed pleased, and at the end of the day, her approval was really all Kusuo sought. 

After dinner, when Kusuo was washing his dishes, she came up to him and opened her arms. Kusuo dried his hands and stepped willingly into the embrace, bending down to let her hands sweep up to his hair.

"I'm so proud of my little baby," she sighed. "You're finally reaching out to others."

Kusuo felt something warm and syrupy well in him at the words. For once, he didn't force away the joy he felt, merely blinking back the sudden prickling of his eyes. 

Aren seemed nervous. Kusuo looked at him and padded closer, reaching up to cup his face. Even at night, Kusuo could make out the handsome visage of his definite-boyfriend. "It's just dinner. You're fine," he reassured. "My mom already loves you. She's the only one that really matters."

Aren smiled at his words. Kusuo reached up to fiddle with his collar, ensuring it was sitting straight. "I look okay?" Aren asked. Kusuo leaned up to plant a kiss on his lover's cheek.

Aren no longer freaked out at the action, internally or otherwise. But the way his emotions flared pink and yellow with affection let Kusuo know he still enjoyed it all the same. "You look good," Kusuo praised. Aren's smile grew more confident. 

"I know we only just became official today, but how soon is too soon to tell you I love you?" Aren asked after staring at him for a moment.

Kusuo coughed and sputtered, feeling his ears burn. "Don't be an idiot," he huffed. 

The adoration in Aren's eyes continued to bloom. "Your idiot?" He asked hopefully. 

Instead of responding, Kusuo reached up to guide Aren's lips to his. The guy's eyes went comically wide before he settled into the kiss. After they broke apart, Kusuo dragged his hands down his lover's chest with the pretense of straightening out his shirt. Really, it was just nice to touch him. "I love you, too," he admitted quietly.

Aren giggled in delight. Kusuo's stomach swooped as they met each other in the middle for yet another kiss. When Aren finally let him go, Kusuo reached over to lace their hands. "You ready?" He asked, settling his other hand on the front door. 

At Aren's nod, Kusuo opened the door. They stepped in together, hand in hand, out of the cool night and into the warm glow of a home.