Archive of Our Own

Ryuusei is ramming forcefully into the warm body beneath him, his naked chest pressed flushed to her back. 

He’s moving with a purpose, shaking the bed erratically as her tits drag back and forth on the bed covers. She’s moaning sweetly, mouth wide open, her voice just short of being grating to his ears. It’s shrill when she encourages him to go faster in between pleasure gasps, when she compliments his technique with a coy grin, when she’s pleased that it doesn’t seem like he’s anywhere near coming. Ryuusei wraps his arms around her hips, pulling her closer, sitting her upright. She most likely feels his labored breath hitting the back of her neck and Ryuusei is able to pinpoint the goosebumps fanning out across her nape at each exhale. He gently sweeps her rose—more salmon colored than pink actually. Far from magenta.—hair to the side, leaning in to pretend to kiss the back of her reddish neck, just to get a whiff of her scent and—it’s all wrong. 

His breath hitches, the thought hitting him like a slap in the face.

She smells faintly of vanilla extracts, her cheap perfume, as well as the bitter scent of tobacco which not only clings to her clothes but also to her hair.

Ryuusei stills. 

“Ah! Don’t stop!” The girl whines, pushing back against his dick. She twists her head around, her long hair flying along with the movement, to look back at him and her gaze meets Ryuusei’s, a bunch of question marks written in her pupils. 

He’s once again taken aback by the color of them. A kind chocolate brown. The complete opposite of the icy teal storm that was his gaze. Her eyes are hooded, her eyelashes are lighter than her hair so it almost seems like they’re orange. They aren’t very long. He once pointed that out to her instinctively and she groaned and complained about how inefficient her lash serum is. Her bottom lashes are barely visible. 

Ryuusei presses his lips together, irritated at his own self. Who cares about any of this stuff? He’s currently deep inside a chick and her pussy is wet and hugging his dick just right. The last thing he should be thinking about is, is—

Fuck. 

Itoshi Sae has made a terrible mistake. 

He grits his teeth and plants his feet in the bed as he fucks into the girl with a renewed fire. He hits her bundle of pleasure easily, letting barely audible groans as he dumps his frustration onto her insides. She pants, stunned by the feverish way in which Ryuusei has started fucking her and her head drops back on the pillow. Ryuusei pays her no mind as he goes in and out of the warm place. His thighs ache with the effort, his jaw is clenched, brows furrowed and he’s entirely too focused for something that used to be fucking freeing for him. He’s thinking too much. 

This should feel good. He bites down on his bottom lip as he easily moves the girl to a better position. She screams, a chorus of girlish mewls falling out of her lips and again, he pays it no mind. This isn’t working. He’s feeling nowhere near coming. He slides his hands higher to grapple at her ample chest, abusing at her nipples and she arches her back—it’s no perfect arch, it’s, it’s barely an arch— and as frustration rises at an exponential rate, he puts his back into it, hoping that fucking harder will mean he will feel better but all it does is make him more heated.

He’s struck with the need to ditch the fucking and break something, break someone. 

This isn’t working. He realizes, mortified as his erection slowly but surely starts to wane.

He’s so goddamn strung out. 

And, he’s really horny. He knows this since the reason they’re here in the first place is because he’s been jerking off so much—to the point of his dick starting to chafe— and it wasn’t doing as much for him anymore. He needs more. 

He needs the most. 

He needs—

“Ryu! Ah!—You’re doing so good!” The girl cries out and Ryuusei moves without thinking, slapping his hand over her mouth to silence her. He couldn’t take her commentary anymore. He willingly tunes her out to indulge in his thoughts, going on autopilot.

So, he wants to get up and leave out of nowhere? Without telling anyone where he’s going? Without telling Ryuusei?

It makes his blood boil. Only someone as self centered as Itoshi Sae could just up and go like it won’t change anything if he’s there or not. 

Ryuusei closes his eyes and imagines the genius under him, he imagines giving him a piece of his mind. Getting to vent out all his fucking frustrations. He imagines beating the shit out of him for understanding him then leaving. For behaving like sex doesn’t mean anything. 

He just wants to crush those pale cheeks against his fist, but also get crushed in the return. And amongst the blood and bruises, he imagines taking him on his back, just like before. He sees it so clearly, every time he closes his eyes. That day. Of course he does, it’s been his only spank bank material for the last months. 

And right on cue, his dick begins to fill up again, ever so addicted to Sae. He tightens his grip on the girl’s waist, and it’s like he can hear the condescending huff the genius would let out if Ryuusei ever told him any of that. Probably call him pathetic. 

“Mmh…fuck, Lashes—“ he groans under his breath, the moan slipping out of his lips, the first one since this whole charade started. Figures. His slip up goes unheard underneath the torrent of moans coming from his current partner. The effects of the harsh fucking finally start to affect him when he imagines the uncaring gaze of the midfielder. She screams again, probably close and it’s so different to how Sae screams. 

Yeah, when Sae screams, he also scratches and hisses and fucking bitches like he can’t admit that he’s feeling good. He rolls his eyes and clenches down because he’s a tease. 

A beautiful, enticing, little shit. 

He dives in one last time, eyes pressed shut and as is custom, replays Sae’s look of ecstasy from back then. His eyes ever so slightly wide with unshed tears, his cheeks flushed, his cum on Ryuusei’s cheek. He looked so vulnerable, so unreal, so fucking perfect—

He comes at that last thought, weakly shooting off into the condom and so does the girl, squeezing around his cock as she rides out her orgasm. They both fall back on the pillows and she eyes him with a content smile. 

He tries to feel that same satisfaction but that orgasm was barely enough to keep him sated for the next two hours. 

But, it’s fine. 

He’s got to learn to be satisfied with fine.

                    #

And if Sae would care to know—wherever he is— Ryuusei is actually doing great. Granted, he got kicked out of the soccer team for too much unsportsmanlike behavior, reckless fighting and use of crass language—their words, not his—but who cares about these boring losers anyway? 

He certainly doesn’t. He’s perfectly content playing soccer in the alleys behind his apartment building with a bunch of knuckleheads kids—skipping school seemingly all the time, bunch of scars on their elbows and knees, always somehow missing a teeth, tanned to hell and painfully stubborn and aggressive. How can you not love these kids?—As Ryuusei stands at twice their heights combined, he usually uses that to his advantage to win every match and they usually get pissed since well, he wins all the time. 

And sure, science class lost its charm when instead of spending the whole period taking part in flirty banter with a dude that’s basically eye candy while doing shit to actually write their reports, Ryuusei is stuck with nerdy what’s-his-name who’s enamored with synthesizing goddamn aspirin and giggles madly when the tanned boy drinks from the distilled water. And it’s not terrible, it’s usual. 

He always gets kicked off from the team once every few months, he always gets science partners he hates because he hates the class, he always dozes off during English and he always practices penalties shots after school. 

It’s how things are. 

Or; how they used to be. 

Pre-Sae. 

You’re telling him that he might never have to stay behind to clean a classroom with a reluctant Sae? What, he never gets to see the way his nose scrunches up when he sneezes because of a cloud of chalk dust? Never gets to receive said chalk flung at him when he’s being particularly unhelpful? Never gets to walk beside Sae to the school gate under the pretense of protecting him from the school ghosts? Never gets to hear if there is any school ghosts I hope they kill me so I don’t have to deal with you in that painfully know-it-all tone? 

Ryuusei might never get to see Itoshi Sae ever again.

It’s only now that he realizes that, what was the usual was only that way because he never had the incentive to change before. 

“D’you think it’s because of the towel?” Ryuusei asks, pressing his lips with a slight frown. He’s currently sprawled out sideways on Charles’s uncomfortable, stiff piece of shit of a mattress, feet dangling above the ground, staring at the ceiling like it personally offended him—Charles has this giant, cartoonish goblin tapestry taped to his ceiling, right above his bed and when asked why the hell he has that, he always responds why not? And shit, Ryuusei can’t really argue with that, can he?— He’s spent so much time in this room the past few months, he’s frankly unbothered by the mess of clothes, the constant smell of artificial fruits —probably from his shitty scented candles— and the offensive mismatch of colors. Why are his curtains bright green and his walls sky blue? It’s hideous. Yet, familiar. Ryuusei is conflicted.

“Quoi?” Charles mumbles through the cookies stuffed inside his mouth, tilting his head to the side inquisitively. His cheeks are huge, round with the amass of food stored in them. Crumbs are littered across the carpet where he’s sitting with his legs crossed at the ankles, but around his mouth as well. He looks like a yellow squirrel. It’s really funny and somewhat endearing. Ryuusei can at least argue that one of the best things that’s happened to him lately is meeting him. 

( Two weeks after Sae had fucked off to who knows where, Ryuusei is marking the back of the school with graffiti paint. He’s making the principal’s assistant choke on a giant cock since he wants to side with the principal and not say anything about where the genius went, even though Ryuusei knows he knows. But he’s too chickenshit slash in love with the principal to breach ‘private information’. And it’s pissing him off. Everything pisses him off lately. And he can tell it’s getting bad because people started murmuring when he’s around, he’s benched more often and Reo started avoiding him again. Probably that pink princess telling to stay away for his own safety. And that pisses him off too. 

So, through his bruised knuckles, he paints. Shit, if he has some paint left, he’ll go tag the side of his house. 

“Sheet, iz that mister Haru?” A thick foreign accent giggles next to him and Ryuusei snaps his head towards it and he’s met with—a gremlin? “I thought I waz the only one who suspected zumtheng between those two,” The lean—painfully—French dude says with a smug grin, exposing one noticeable sharp fang. His face is rosy, round, youngish and it stretches with the smile.

Ryuusei can’t help but smile back. “I heard that when you pass by the principal’s office, you can hear him choking on it,” He slides down the clean wall on the opposite side, letting the spray can slip from his grip and drop with a clatter on the ground. “Looking at principal Higuri though, you can tell—“ 

“He’s packing!” French dude giggles freely, shaking his mob of blonde hair around as he shifts from one foot to another. “It’s funny, I was trying to zay that and everyone looked at me like I had lost my mind,” He sits down next to Ryuusei, legs crossed on top of each other, a twinkle of mirth shining in his big yellow eyes as he wraps a grey end of his hair around his finger. 

“Welcome to the club.” 

They sat together for a while after that talking about some of the most dumbest shit Ryusei has ever used as conversation topics but that’s what the boy—Charles Chevalier— does so well. He found out that he was an exchange student who got sent here from france by his parents because he misbehaved too much,—but Ryuusei is sure that they sent him away because they had a litter of other kids to take care of— he also loves to play soccer but hesitates to join the soccer team because they ‘look lik a bunch of unfunny airphans’ which makes no sense but had Ryuusei laugh so hard, his stomach hurt afterwards. Charles doesn’t really fit in with the freshmen because they’re uptight and obsessed with being pure and following the rules and Ryuusei doesn’t get along with the seniors because their assholes are glued shut and they never have any fun. 

So, they got along pretty well. 

They did get in trouble for that graffiti though. And everyone called them the perverts for two months straight after that and it was so worth it. )

“What the hell are you talking about?” Charles whines, his accent as always making it impossible for him to pronounce anything correctly so it actually sounds more like ‘What le 'ell are you talkeng abut?’ Plus, Ryuusei can barely hear anything through his chewing. The kid is lucky he likes him or he would’ve chucked him out of the window. 

“Do you think it’s because I dropped the towel that he left without saying goodbye,” Ryuusei spells out for him, making a circular vague motion of the hand towards Charles. “Like, as revenge. You know? Vengeance?” 

Charles jumps to his feet, trotting towards the boombox on his bed table to change the song to another one of his horrible country music x dubstep mixtapes. He hums, fake contemplative, “You know what, peut-être! Who’s to say he hasn’t been taken in by the government to be tested on…” He trails off ominously, switching the tracks until he falls on one that is particularly unpleasant to the ear. Then, the kid bobs his head to it like you can hear any lyrics over the bass. “And I know what revenge is, my Japanese isn’t that uh, how do you say mauvais—bad! It’s not that bad.” He pouts, sticking his tongue out at Ryuusei. 

His entire input goes disregarded by the blonde. Not that Charles answered anything regarding the question, the contrarian asshole. “I did so many crazy shit to that towel but I don’t think he knows about that,” He mumbles, pensive. But also, he might, considering he knew about him creaming his pants in the gymnasium. And also-also, considering how little shame he feels about using the towel to get off, Ryuusei doesn’t care. That’s not a reason to uproot your whole life. They could talk about it. They could fuck about it! Ryuusei would love that!

Charles swallows the remaining food stored inside his cheeks down and gets to violently kicking his feet against his own bed frame to shake the striker. “I thought we weren’t talking about Sae anymore?” And yeah, Ryuusei has got to admit that maybe he’s been pretty vocal about his need to be knowledgeable about the genius whereabouts but Charles gets tired of pretty much every conversation that’s recurring. He probably hasn’t been talking about it that much. He thinks. “You’re boning Sayaka! she’s hot!” The little imp insists, throwing himself on his desk chair and spinning around with it. 

“You’re right, she is,” He sighs. Ryuusei had met Sayaka a month after Sae’s departure. They had bumped into each other in West Shinjuku,—Although it had taken Ryuusei forever to convince his grandmother to take him to Shibuya, she finally cave in that weekend because she herself had ‘errands to run’ which is code for gross old people sex. Ryuusei, at that point, was desperate for a glimpse of explosions and it had been a while since he talked with his Gyaru friends up in Tokyo. They fought tooth and nails over live tickets, blew their sad allowance money on studded belts and Luna Sea CDs and basically loitered near bars until late afternoon. It was great.—and had immediately clicked. Hard not to when they had so much in common. Sayaka had faded pink hair that fell all the way to her backside. She wore a smokey eye look and bright pink lipstick. She clothed herself in lots of black, leather, ripped up shirts and chains. She had a lip and an eyebrow piercing and Ryuusei would also later find out that she had her nipples pierced as well. She always talked about how the minute she turns twenty one, she’s getting a shooting star tattooed along her spine and she’s cool. She is hot. 

However, it’s painfully obvious to Ryuusei that she’s no Sae. 

Ryuusei loudly groans, the sound rumbling across his ribcage. Charles eyes him, torn between being amused at the state of his best friend or pitying him. 

When the striker buries his face in the crook of his elbow with another resounding grumble, Charles can’t help but respond with a sigh of his own. He takes his chair for another spin and scratching at his chin, he asks, “You sure you don’t know where he is?” 

( It had officially been a week since Sae had not stepped foot in their wretched high school and usually Ryuusei wouldn’t be too worried about it as Sae has this tendency to disappear and reappear when you expect it the least. However, his name wasn’t being called during attendance in class anymore nor during attendance at practice. All of his soccer trophies were displayed in the middle of the school despite the fact that it wasn’t the case before—because Sae truly despises that with a burning passion and no one ever dares to cross him—. His locker had been entirely cleaned out. 

So, here we go again, searching for one Itoshi Sae. And Ryuusei knew better this time than to ask his incompetent and frankly useless classmates. He was going straight to the sources. 

‘Yo coach, do you know where’s the Itoshi?’ Ryuusei cornered their coach inside the locker rooms after the sixth practice sans Sae, in hopes that this wouldn’t turn into a chase if he went directly to the last adult—Ryuusei assumes— Sae talked to. 

Fat chance. 

The teacher’s face instantly soured at the mention of the midfielder and he turned away from Ryuusei so he could make as if he’s tidying their space when really he was muttering what is likely trash-talk directed towards Sae’s insolent behavior. 

That went on for a good ten minutes before Ryuusei snapped and hurled his gym bag at the locker behind the coach, narrowly avoiding smacking him straight in the face. He flinched then his fat face flushed with anger. It only took a bit of convincing to get him to calm down,—that is to say that for each shout, Ryuusei shouted even louder with an edge of craziness that usually got people to back off. This one was no different.— and even less to get him to admit what he knew about where Sae might have gone. —Ryuusei was five inches taller than this grown man, his knuckles were bruised from all his recent brawls and not to mention the bruises on his face. He was much more intimidating than him even more so when he directly punched the locker right next to the coach’s face, leaving a sizable dent in the metal.— 

He simply gulped, sweating bullets from probably the most adrenaline he’s had in a while and confessed that the last time he talked to Sae it was during that fateful practice and it was his statement that he officially quit the team. Even coach’s begging didn’t deter him so the man assumed the midfielder must’ve made his decision based on something long term.

Granted, after that, he was kicked out of the team—because coach is a wuss that possibly peed his pants at a little bit of intimidation—but he also learned that Sae knew he would go away before this—them.— had even begun.

Surely, all the other staff members and teachers would give Ryuusei the same amount of significant information so that he could connect the dots and find him?

Fat fucking chance. 

‘I really don’t know Shidou,’ Said their art teacher. Then, she begged him to stop this incessant pursuit of Sae at the cost of missing classes and that he should stop getting into trouble if he didn’t want to lose his place as vice president of the art club. And that she worried about him and she knew he could be good. Ryuusei snarled at her and left. Fucking useless. 

‘The Itoshi? Beats me. All I know is he hasn’t tuned in a homework assignment since may. Maybe for the better, this subject isn’t his forte.’ Mocked their mathematics teacher with a gruff masculine voice. Before Ryuusei could ask the suit-and-tie-wearing-bastard any further questions, they were interrupted by a flood of nerds begging the teacher for further explanation regarding the lesson they viewed today. The last thing he told Ryuusei was that he hasn’t submitted an assignment since then either. Ryuusei hadn’t stepped a foot in his class since then. 

‘He hasn’t told me anything but maybe he switched schools Ryuusei?’ Softly suggested their pregnant social studies teacher. She rubbed his shoulder sporadically as she said so, as if trying to soothe him, soften the blow. It did shit to calm him down. 

‘Let’s see, he hasn’t come to class in weeks, his name isn’t on any attendance lists and everyone is treating him like he died? What conclusion could we possibly come to Shidou?’ Said their science teacher with a huff, like the answer was obvious. He might as well have outright said, who cares where he went, the important fact is that he’s not here anymore. And it would have no difference on how Ryuusei reacted to that information. He stormed out of the lab, kicking down those shitty lab stools— that Sae used to hate so much because they’re so goddamn uncomfortable and always hurt his back— on the way out. 

Ryuusei even went out of his way to ask the school principal but we all know how that went. There’s a faded graffiti at the back of their school demonstrating how terrible that encounter went. 

“Tell me you know where he is?” Ryuusei dejected, begged the school’s janitor once more. Because somehow, he always ends up having to. 

“You’re still at it kid?” Kobayashi-san whistled, sweeping care-freely at the dirt underneath Ryuusei’s feet. “Well, I still don’t know.”

“Well, what do you know, kei! What do you know!!” 

Suffice to say, he was unsuccessful once again. )

Ryuusei slowly sits up straight and looks down to shoot Charles a blank stare. “Charlie. My boy. What the fuck do you think?” He deadpans, blindly reaching for the nearest pillow and flinging it in the pipsqueak smug little face. It hits him square in the face and he goes down with a lot of muffled giggles. 

“No carrier pigeon? Laser-etched legumes? Message in a bottle throw it in the ocean?” Charles taunts with his tongue sticking out between his teeth, having recovered from the assault at a record speed. Must be the force of habit.

 “What are you even saying? Fuck, you’re such a shitstain—“ Ryuusei falls back down on the bedding with a thud, his arms flying open in exasperation. 

Charles leaps off the reeling chair, falling down on the empty space next to Ryuusei on the bed. He lies down, mirroring the striker’s position. “Bruh, ways to contact him!” He chirps, eagerly poking at the striker’s left arm as if it was obvious. 

Ryuusei’s eyes widen impossibly and his face lights up in realization. 

Contact him? 

It is obvious, how could Ryuusei be so stupid?

He bounces back on his feet, nearly frightening Charles due to the speed in which he flies off the bed. Well, that would be the case if he wasn’t used to his friend erratic mannerisms. So, he simply sits up and observes Ryuusei jumping up and down with glee, awaiting the moment that this revelation will be shared with him. 

Ryuusei cackles, the answer was in front of him all along. He snaps his head towards the imp sitting leisurely on the bed and picks him up with a swoop. The French boy laughs along as Ryuusei spins him in the air and ruffles his hair affectionately. 

“Merci! Merci! Oh dude, I love you so much!” The blonde praises putting a wobbly but pleased Charles back down on the bed. He reaches for his pocket and fishes out his cellphone. 

“I guess I am a génie huh, but just to be clear, what did I do?” Charles tilts his head, confused, yet a smile remains etched on his lips.

Ryuusei doesn’t reply, his bottom lip trapped under his front teeth as he scrolls endlessly down his contacts. Why does he have so many people who don’t matter in his phone? Finally, he stumbles upon what he’s been looking for. 

He switches the phone around to Charles so he can also assess the fruits of Ryuusei’s labor. “Okai, so that’s an unsaved number,” The boy hums appreciatively as he leans forward and scrutinizing the tiny screen. 

“Not just any unsaved number,” Ryuusei begins, pivoting his phone back to himself so he can open the last conversation—and lo and behold, there it is. That ‘I’ll be there at 1.‘ Text message that Ryuusei had looked forward to not so long ago. He could almost cry out a joy. “It’s Sae’s phone number.” 

“Double-you-tee-eff dude, you didn’t have that saved?” 

“It wasn’t the first thing on my mind back at the time!” 

Charles waves his head side to side in disappointment, messing up his hair which had already ran amok ever since Ryuusei ran his careless hand through it. He keeps doing so, going as far as placing his hands in his hips like a disgruntled father. Ryuusei pays him no mind. 

He instead props his phone up for a selfie. He pushes his hair back, gives a halfhearted attempt at fixing the few hair strands that have gone haywire and with playful glint dancing in his heavy lidded gaze, sticks out his tongue. 

Without checking the results, he confidently sends the picture with a caption that reads, ‘missed me?’

“Pff, should’ve sent a dick pic,” Charles comments where he has suddenly materialized by his side. He’s actually putting his whole weight on Ryuusei shoulders so that he can see the screen but Ryuusei doesn’t mind. 

He actually kind of agrees. 

Charles looks away from the screen to stare inquisitively at the side of Ryuusei’s face. “How do you know he’ll answer?” 

“I don’t,” Ryuusei breathes out fondly, excitement thrumming in his veins. “That’s the whole point.”

Charles hums, accepting the answer without protest. Silence stretches. 

Then, by the time the blonde can react, Charles has slammed a pillow in his face. And with a barely contained snicker, he adds, “Hmm, Vengeance.”

No one moves. 

Then.

“Charles, you little—“

The two of them end up roughhousing, flinging themselves and pillows at each other until Charles’s caretaker, tired of their antics, has to convince them to take it outside. 

Which, they do.

                       #

Ryuusei doesn’t linger long at the Sawamura’s,—not because they aren’t a lovely family that would gladly share their dinner with the likes of Ryuusei, but simply because the streetlights are on and it’s never smart for Ryuusei to disappear long enough that his grandmother notices. The last time that happened, he came home to find his room being rearranged into an at home gym. Those were a sporty couple of months though.— he skips all the way home, his hand itching at his side to check his phone at any moment. He sweeps the foyer with a pep in his step, he banters with the pizza delivery guy on the phone, he listens to his grandmother rant on and on about the state of the market without a peep about how she’s technically unemployed and it goes on like this for the rest of the night, just Ryuusei with a dopey grin on his face, hope in his heart.

Sae will reply. 

Ryuusei is sure of this. 

The blonde does go out of his way to save his number this time. He saves it under a singular heart emoticon and even changes his bland profile picture—just two letters, S and I on a pink background— to a doodle of Sae he sketched in one of the only times he actually attended art class. Nothing too fancy, just his characteristic blank stare and lashes and some lines to represent his hair. It had Ryuusei choking down a fit of laughter due to how silly it looked in contrast of Sae’s constant seriousness. 

He sets the picture. He saves the number. Ryuusei waits. 

And, waits. 

And yet, a week goes by without any news from the midfielder.

And Ryuusei has to admit, it does have him constantly on edge and strung out like never before. See, patience isn’t his forte, one would even say that his impatience is one of his greatest flaws and it’s even worse when it concerns something he really fucking wants. So, it’s no wonder that for those seven days, the striker is completely and utterly under the mercy of his own phone. 

Ryuusei will be under the shower, whistling carelessly while soaping up his body and his cellular device will emit a ping sound from where it’s seated, all the way on his bed, and Ryuusei will leap out of the spray of water, gliding dangerously on the wet ground with soap everywhere on his person just to reach it and potentially read the genius’s reply, only for it to be a text message from Koji, a guy from his graffiti crew sending him videos of graffitis he thought looked pretty cool. Ryuusei was half convinced there and then to either find him and rip his throat apart or water board himself in the sink. 

Or; Ryuusei will be working out, sweating profusely while deadlifting, his upper arms slightly trembling and his muscles aching from the exercise and his phone—who always remains in his back pocket these days— will give the slightest vibration and the striker will abandon any rational thought to attend to, again, a potential response from the uptight princess he seemed to not want to let go of, at the cost of the weight falling right next to his foot,  almost crushing all the bones into dust and for what? For the notification to be a reminder from his fitness app to drink water. Ryuusei did actually scream out of frustration. Whatever, his gym buddies are used to it. 

Or; Ryuusei will be faced with a fuming version of his principal as he goes on and on about how sick he is of seeing Ryuusei in his office and how, how could Ryuusei think it would be appropriate to try and trip his math teacher and how Ryuusei is making his divorce harder than it is and his phone will be burning a hole into his pocket and the blonde will swears that his fingers itch to check sometimes without prompting because perhaps it didn’t notify him this time? Maybe Sae answered and with a lack of response deleted that reply?  So, when he does—against his poor judgment— sneak a quick glance at his phone screen, eyes roaming over the lock screen for a certain text message, the principal blows a fuse, threatening to deprive Ryuusei of the right to not only remain in his school but to attend all the other schools in the district. 

The only notification on his screen was a  chain of text messages from Charles that said; ‘saw you going to higuri office??’ Followed by ‘oooo someone’s in troubleee’ followed by a bunch of fire and devil emojis. So painfully not worth all those punishments he had to go through because of that.

Scraping dried up gum under desks and writing I will be a more respectful young man over and over again on a blackboard.

And they call Ryuusei the barbaric one. 

So, when on a random Tuesday night,—two weeks later where’s he’s finally toned down the neurotic responses to his phone notifications—while he’s getting ready to head to bed, Ryuusei stripped down to his underwear and combing the remaining specks of gel out of hair with his trusty comb effortlessly, his ears picks up on a sharp ping coming from his bed covers, he doesn’t rush. 

Hell, he even breathes out a little laugh, expecting the text to be coming from Charles who’s a chronic insomniac or Sayaka who’s a chronic night owl party animal who likes to send him blurry selfies  or even his grandmother who forgot her keys home. Therefore, he carries on. Ryuusei shuts the blinds, checks the locks, brushes his teeth at lazy pace. An hour and half pass before he finally throws himself on his beddings and picks up his phone. 

A wild grin split his face in half at the sight of a particular heart emoticon nestled at the top of his lock screen. Underneath, the words written are ‘sent you a message’ and Ryuusei can’t contain the rush of ecstasy such a simple sentence spread through him. 

He mindlessly props himself against his headboard, never taking his eyes off the tiny screen. Almost staring at it like it could materialize the pinkette himself.

       - Oh, it’s you 

Ryuusei eyes the text. Short, cryptic yet perfectly clear, perfectly uncaring. 

It’s really him. 

The blonde rested his teeth on his bottom lip, tugging on it lightly as pure desire throbs in his veins.

There’s no way he’s letting go now.

‘Didn’t forget about your fav demon did you? Or don’t tell me you got other devilish handsome strikers hitting u up?’ Ryuusei sends, partly joking although he wouldn’t exactly like it if that were to be the case. 

Eh. He knows he would win anyways. 

     - how’d you get my number 

‘True love finds a way always finds a way sae chan’ He replies, taunting. Of course Sae wouldn’t remember about the phone number either. 

      - Don’t make me block you

‘I wouldn’t dare!’ Ryuusei says to that, unworried about that case scenario. Now that he’s got him back, he will not let go easy. 

He hopes Sae knows that. 

He knows Sae knows that. 

Yet, just to toy with the midfielder, he sends, ‘cmon, don’t be like that. Wanna see some pics?’

             - …

‘Of cute shit i see on the street ofc, Get your mind out of the gutter lashes!’ Ryuusei adds, snickering to himself in the dead of the night in his bedroom. He might be risking his chance, playing with Sae’s nerves but hey, he knew who he replied to in the first place. Ryuusei won’t hold back because of a couple of threats. 

Shit, those fuel him even more. 

           - Whatever 

From then on starts a little routine between the two boys. Ryuusei notices something that catches his eye when he’s out and about, or something that marvels him on the street, on TV, anywhere really and he sends the picture to Sae.

Ryuusei noticing a calico cat lounging around on the way home? He will gleefully wiggle his fingers under its furred chin, delightedly bathing in the purring that follows and will reflexively forward a picture to Sae captioned ‘can you believe he didn’t even scratch me? Cute isn’t he?’

Ryuusei feeling particularly proud of the artistic way in which he’s defaced the sign next to his favorite coffee shop? He’ll make sure to send the bold colored letters splashed on the circular sign next to his iced caramel macchiato. His face, stretched out by his pleased grin, proudly in the shot. He’ll caption it ‘like it? It says tits’

Ryuusei will send about anything if he feels like it.

And he does, often. 

He does because he wants Sae to be there to experience it all with him. And the closest way he can get to that is to clip and capture every moment of his day-to-day life and show it to the midfielder. Pictures of Charles doing particular heinous grimaces were sent a few times, videos of Ryuusei trying to do ollies at the skatepark and eating shit, late selfies of of himself struggling with his homework, indulging selfies of himself at the gym, things that reminded of him of the teal-eyed boy—a wet soccer field, a billboard of an actress with luscious eyelashes, Sae’s favorite brand of gum going bankrupt, lipgloss he thinks will look good on him, his coffee order selling at a discounted price, a mannequin in a store window wearing his sweater,— art, art and lots of art. Some of it sadder than how he normally presents himself. He doesn’t caption those ones.

And at first, Sae’s responses are your typical brand of Itoshi answers, detached, indifferent monosyllables; He says ‘ok.’ a lot, like he’s approving of the message rather than reacting to it. As if he needs to keep Ryuusei in line for the pictures of stray animals he befriended. Sae also says ‘Whatever’, it’s his go-to. He says whatever to most of Ryuusei’s stupid videos where he tries out reckless dangerous things. He says ‘who cares,’ When Ryuusei sends him anything related to Sae himself, as if the thought behind the picture—the fact that Ryuusei is thinking of him, the fact that he’s only thinking of him— doesn’t affect him or like he doesn’t want to know about it. And he says ‘you’re still at it with the vandalism?’ to most of his art pieces. Although, it doesn’t slips Ryuusei’s mind that the pinkette does go out of his way to save every single one of them. 

Not only that, Sae replies in the first place. To all of the messages.

Even better, over time, he slowly starts to warm up. His response are still to the point but it’s like Ryuusei has worn him down and he has no other choices but to show that he cares. He starts replying with thumbs up to his illicit gym selfies instead of ‘send me that again and you’re never hearing from me’ which Ryuusei fucking takes as encouragement obviously. Or, with a ‘cute’ to his selfies with stray rodents. If he’s feeling cheeky he’ll add ‘I didn’t know you had siblings’ and Ryuusei will be so delighted, he’ll barely try and act like he’s offended. The best one for him is when Sae starts replying with ’I actually like this one’ under some of his graffitis and it would be all the more satisfying when it would be the ones that Ryuusei did for him. It would confirm what he already knows. 

He knows the cold hearted boy inside and out. 

He can’t help but imagine the pinkette lying in bed, all snuggled in his blanket, similar to Ryuusei, and going through the texts the blonde send him today and be content, pleased and cared for. He doesn’t want Sae to ever forget how obsessed he is with him. Wherever he is.

For every ‘ha this one did scratch you didn’t he?’ And ‘I actually bought that sweater when it was exclusive’ and ‘don’t ask me for help. i failed calculus.’ And ‘your friend looks as stupid as you’ and ‘I always hated that blank side of the building , it’s much better this way.’ Ryuusei’s heart soars so high, it feels like it can lift him off the ground. He has a permanent smile stitches to his cheeks as his hands keep a constant grip on his phone, awaiting the next quip, the next answer. 

What’s more is that it additionally seems that everyone at school has noticed this weird sudden change in demeanor coming from the fiendish boy. 

A Ryuusei that would bulldoze his way through dodgeball in their physical education class is suddenly letting himself get hit so he can seat out and laugh at his phone. When he gets pulled back in, he throws himself in-front of Niko to save him from a direct shot in the face and all the black haired boy can utter through his long bangs is a very meek and hesitant ‘thank…you?’ considering the fact that the last time they played dodgeball together the tanned boy used him as a human shield. Yet, now Ryuusei only shrugs carelessly as a he skips to the bench. 

Odd.

A Ryuusei that used to purposefully trip people in the hallways to start up brawls as he seeks violence is now catching Chigiri as trips over his feet in front of his locker. Ryuusei casually pulls him upright and happily whistles away to his next class without saying anything else. The pink haired princess snaps his neck towards his friend group in hopes of understanding, a clear ‘what the fuck?’ written in his gaze.  

Zantestu, the closest to him, huffs and says all serious, “He’s been acting like he’s winned the lottery all month..”

Reo behind him nods, “It’s ‘won the lottery’ but yeah, I agree,”

And Nagi, lazily resting his head on top of Reo’s drawls, “Care bear Shidou is quite the sensation…”

Just plain bizarre. 

A Ryuusei that used to slam the nearest person who demanded a bit of his food’s face in, who used to threaten the lunch lady for more meat, who used to inhale his lunch with such animalistic behavior no one even dared to comment on it, is now too preoccupied with his phone, taking photographs of the lunch rather than eating it. Even worse, when Gagamaru seated to his right, asks, like the clueless boy he’s known to be, if Ryuusei is ‘gonna eat that?’ All the blonde finds in himself to do is push his tray towards the white haired teen and with a dopey grin stating : “Feast away mountain boy.”

Like nothing anyone has ever seen before. 

Everyone had then came to the conclusion that Sae Itoshi must be back and no one had encountered him yet. For a week, the midfielder was looked for everywhere because only he could be the source of such joy emerging from the violent striker. 

They weren’t exactly far from the truth. 

It all comes to a head when a freshman cracks and asks Charles if he can ask Ryuusei where he’s been seeing Sae because they all looked everywhere and he’s nowhere to be found. Was the gossip mill wrong? 

“Zo, then I just told him that you’ve been texting him like a maniac and that’s why you’re— all gooey and soft. I think everybody knows by now so uh, oops?” Is what the electric blonde recounts to Ryuusei later that night and Ryuusei can’t be upset with Charles for divulging the source of his seemingly never ending glee, simply because the reason for it is hilarious to him. 

And to Sae when he eventually tells him as well. The pinkette replies ‘what a bunch of braindead idiots’ which makes Ryuusei smile in everyone’s face for a week longer knowing that no one but him is communicating with Sae. Even if they wanted to, they simply wouldn’t be worthy.

Then, it happens. 

Gradually over time, Sae starts sending his own little photos and videos back. Nothing too convoluted, his pictures are often blurry and he doesn’t really provide a brief explanation of why he would send those photographs in the first place. His videos are shorter, never more than five seconds long. However, Ryuusei cherishes every one of them. The pictures are to the point; shots of a beautiful sunset, an album of a band beloved by Ryuusei that hasn’t come out yet, Sae’s long dainty fingers curled around a cup of coffee, Sae sends a lot of pictures of the stuff he eats and after some probing, he once sent a picture of his outfit of the day and suffice to say Ryuusei saved it instantly and put it to good use. The videos are just clips of Sae slotting his key in its designated hole to show that he’s leaving his apartment or snippets of the pinkette attempting to cook, nothing substantial. 

The closest thing he’s gotten to Sae’s face on camera is when he found a stray cat himself and recorded his hand passing through the matted fur of the animal up until it started purring which startled him into accidentally flipping the camera. Ryuusei still has that video saved and he slows that part down every time he watches it. If he pauses it just right? He can make out all of his features. The mesmerizing eyes, the slight frown and the pouty pink lips, his tousled magenta locks framing his pretty face. It might be blurry but it’s him. 

Ryuusei hoped that through those little things he might be able to determine where Sae has been hiding out. No such luck. And the midfielder categorically refuses to let the demon know about his whereabouts, as if it will make it too real, they will cross some sort of unspoken line. It’s ridiculous yet there’s nothing the blonde can do about it because it’s the one thing Sae is actually strict about. So he founds himself analyzing the cut off buildings at the far ends of his pictures, hoping to associate them to a country, in hopes to narrow it down.

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Where the fuck is Itoshi Sae?” Ryuusei whines, his fingers zooming out of yet another useless picture sent by Sae,—this one is a picture of his shoes, Sae followed it by saying that he’ll talk to Ryuusei later because he’s going out at the moment— a cute picture maybe but this one only shows the pavement and bits of Sae’s classy pants. It only demonstrates what Ryuusei already knows, that lashes has a good sense of style. Nothing about where he’s going or where he is.

Charles jumps down another table, humming as he thinks it over. “Maybe he’s still in Japan?” He suggests, climbing the next table with ease. The school did a terrible mistake giving the two boys free periods at the same time because they always end up lounging around abandoned classrooms and—in Charles’s case— jumping from table to table or—in Ryuusei’s case— carving the desks and chairs.

“He lives in a different time zone,” Ryuusei reminds the impish boy. “I can tell his replies aren’t late on purpose,” Well, sometimes they are but that’s only when the genius announces in advance that he will ignore his texts. It usually happens when Ryuusei gets horny at night and unabashedly asks for nudes. Otherwise, when it’s evening here, Sae sends him pictures of his lunch. Ryuusei firmly believes there’s perhaps a seven or eight hours time difference. 

“Okai, he’s elsewhere uh—“ Charles cheeps, jumping down the table. “That narrows eet down!”

“Yeah, we can cross Japan off the rest of the entire fucking planet,” The striker grumbles, discarding his phone on the table as he lean back on his chair with a huff. 

“I mean if you asked everyone about where he’s gone to and they don’t know, he couldn’t have gone zat far,” The younger boy reassures him, albeit with an offensively careless cheerful lilt. “Maybe he went to France!”

“No Charles, no one goes to france on purpose,” Ryuusei mocks, sticking out his tongue with a teasing smile and Charles sticks it out right back at him. “And I did ask everyone, they’re all useless,” The blonde groans, aggrieved at his own lack of information. 

“Sheet, even rin? That’s tragic,” Charles comments offhandedly, switching to leap from two tables at a time. 

Ryuusei pauses, his brow creasing in hesitation. “What,” He utters stupidly, mindlessly scratching at his nape. 

“You know? I feel like if I had left to come here without my siblings knowing zey would be pretty pissed—“

“No, Who the fuck is Rin?“ Ryuusei spits out, shaking his head repeatedly, lost. 

Charles stops from where he’s perched on another desk. He turns to Ryuusei in disbelief. “Rin Itoshi ? Sae’s little brother?”

Ryuusei blinks at him. 

“A grade above mine and one below yours?”

Ryuusei scratches the top of his scalp as his eyes dart left and right. 

“You kicked him in the face then went to juvie.” 

Ryuusei loudly gasps in recognition, his mouth forming a perfect circle. “Oh—shit!” He slaps his hand down the table, his mind finally recalling a green haired irritating little shit that he did kick in the face. And that did result in him going to juvie because he was on his last warning.

He really didn’t connect that he was Sae’s little brother. Therefore, he definitely did not think to ask him in particular if he’s heard of where Sae might have gone to.

Well, Ryuusei knows what to do. 

“Bruh, Are you serious—“ Charles starts bemoaning over his friend continuous stupidity before being cut off by the desk he’s currently standing at his full height on collapsing under him with a thud. And a lot of dust. and flying rusty screws. 

                       #

And that’s how Ryuusei founds himself in the crowded cafeteria the next day, standing at the door of the noisy and suffocating room full of hungry and foul-smelling teenagers, in search of one Itoshi Rin. His eyes fly over each circles from Raichi loudly fighting Naruhaya on the table next to the vending machine to Aryu hesitating between tasting the dried fruits over the granola in front of his lunch tray while Barou rolls his eyes at him to Karasu tossing bits of his eggs into Otoya’s open mouth. 

His piercing pink gaze finally lands on the younger Itoshi where he is seated at a far end table with Isagi on his right and Bachira on his left. He’s reluctantly picking at his unappetizing soggy salad with his upper lip curled in disgust. Yet, his eyes follow Bachira’s movements, admittedly with a blank look in them, but they still prove he’s actively listening and so is Isagi, as he is nodding along with a small smile on his face to the bumblebee’s enthusiastic ranting that involves his hands flying everywhere. 

Ryuusei smirks, pushing himself off the door as he confidently struts towards the group of boys. Instantly, some eyes instinctively shift to observe him as he goes, expecting a fight to break out. And as he edges closer to the Rin, the cafeteria slowly grows quieter and that’s when Rin finally looks away from Bachira to fix his gaze on the unstable teen. 

When faced with the Itoshi’s hardened gaze and gritted teeth, the blonde smiles wider, flinging his arms in the air, palms open as an I-come-in-peace statement. 

“What? I can’t have character growth and apologize?” Ryuusei says in mock offense, his voice low and lilted. He throws his leg over the bench, seating himself in front of the three boys. One stunned and confused, the other two rapidly growing vexed.  “Geez dude.”

Rin growls, his nostrils flaring in anger. He’s this close to having small clouds of steam coming out of his ears too. “Fuck off, you think I’m dumb?” 

“I actually don’t think about you like at all,” Ryuusei growls back, amused. His fire is more playful than fueled by rage like Rin’s is. He could fight this kid.

Probably would get him in a heaps of trouble though. 

With Sae that is. 

“I know you’ve been looking for Sae, I’ll never tell you where he is,” Rin grits out, his teal pupils filled with a righteous anger.  

“Who’s Sae?” Ryuusei plays dumb, stretching his legs to slightly graze the younger teen’s and as expected, he flinches, repulsed. Ryuusei cackles. “Look I wanna say sorry for hitting you it wasn’t right, I thought about it in juvie and—“

“You sat on your apology four months after you got out of there?” Rin spits out the word apology like it personally offended him, and Ryuusei misses Sae a little more when he realizes that this is his replacement they’re all left with. 

The blonde hums, passing his tongue over his row of front teeth. “…Stress? Is it so hard to believe that I have to work on my apologies?” He says, aware of how insincere it came out. 

Rin blinks once, twice then bolts upright, tearing himself away from the table, a movement that has every idiot in the cafeteria gasping. He’s standing completely rigid, yet clearly shaking with anger. “Fuck you, you antenna freak!”

Isagi snaps his head towards the smug striker, “Why don’t you go hang out with your friend instead of whatever this is?”

Ryuusei snorts, his head slightly lolling back with humor. Little did head sprout know Charles was actually in detention right now for destruction of school property. He’s also the one who gave him the idea to ask little Itoshi. 

Who would’ve thought it would’ve gone so badly? 

Ryuusei gently lifts himself off the bench, a throbbing vein popping on his forehead to represent his rising annoyance. He clicks his tongue. “Yeah? Wanna go?”

“I love doing things the hard way,” He smirks, even more please at the dark shadow falling on Rin’s eyes. 

Ryuusei will knock out Isagi first because he can’t fight and since he loves sticking his nose in things that doesn’t concern him, he’ll fight this battle for lashes junior as well. Then, he’ll knock Rin’s little boring face on the lunch table until he tells him where the better Itoshi is and he’ll take Bachira for last. 

Just because he’s always fun to fight with.

Lots of blood and you’re always guaranteed to break something. 

But, before he can get to that, Rin’s look softens—or rather, it goes back to being blank and slight annoyance— and all of his posse seats back down on their table—Isagi with a relieved sigh and Bachira with a humph and a I could have taken him— and when Ryuusei is about to get real confused, he’s tackled to the ground by two out of three of the school guardians, unable to move a finger. 

“I don’t know what my brother sees in you. But you best believe it won’t last long.” is what Rin proudly declares as Ryuusei is being dragged out from the canteen. 

So now Ryuusei is reminded of a few things as his limp body hits every bags and table legs on the way out. The first thing is, now he remembers why he fought Rin that first time and it’s because that dick always has an incorrect opinion about everything and Ryuusei now itches to cave his face in once again. the second thing he’s reminded of is rule number three of fighting on school grounds. 

You can’t fight with so many people around because there is gonna be at least one pussy who will call school security. 

“Fuck me,” Ryuusei groans, despairing as he’s thrown in detention for the rest of the lunch period. 

No lunch. 

No fights. 

And, no knowing where Itoshi Sae might be. 
                      #

‘your brother is a fucking asshole’ Ryuusei messages Sae the next morning, his phone in one hand and his spoon in the other as he munches down on the spoonful of his chocolate rice crispy cereal. He hasn’t begun getting ready for school yet, prioritizing a small conversation with the genius in his hot pink briefs and ragged band shirt. 

                  - ?

Is the response that comes in less than three minutes later as Ryuusei is gulping down the chocolate milk inside of his bowl. He slams it down and frown a little at his phone. Ever since he’s been reminded of Rin Itoshi’s existence, there has been a question lingering at the back of his mind. 

And Ryuusei would love to be wrong about it.

‘Is that why you did it? Cus i punched him? He deserved it’ The tanned boy nervously types, his fingers flying over his keyboard keys. Uncaring of how well, uncaring that might sound. 

       - meaning? 

‘Is that why you fucked off to France’ Ryuusei bites down his bottom lip, moving backwards and forwards on the unsteady chair to ease his unnecessary and frankly, beneath himself, nerves. He doesn’t really believe Sae has went off to France or at least he hopes he hasn’t because Charles will become truly insufferable if he’s right about another thing. 

The blonde eyes the three dots on the screen come and go until it seems that Sae has officially decided that he wouldn’t answer altogether. It’s true that they haven’t really breached the subject of why Sae left in the first place or the subject of why Sae took interest in him in the first place and now that it’s become clear he wasn’t even aware they were related, this is also the first time they’ve talked about any sibling of Sae. 

And now that Ryuusei feels this overwhelming feeling that the genius leaving might be because of his own shortcomings, He’s afraid it might’ve been obvious all along. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s drove someone away due to his more selfish and yeah, perhaps a little violent way of life but Sae gets it. 

He’s supposed to get it.

Had Ryuusei ruined this before it had even begun? 

Had this all been some sort of revenge for laying a hand on his baby brother?

Making Ryuusei believe that someone might understand and then leave? 

The blonde can’t take any more of this endless spiral, his fingers move across the screen, hitting the call button. He’ll get his answer one way or the other. 

It rings once. 

Sae better answer.

Twice.

Sae better not block him. 

Ryuusei would have to attempt another civil conversation with Rin Itoshi so he could steal the dude’s phone and speak with Sae through that and the demon doesn’t think he can speak to that bore without hurting him at least a little. 

Three times—

“So? Is that it?” Ryuusei breathes hurriedly into the receiver as soon as Sae picks up the phone. He can faintly hear the soft muffled rustling of the pinkette’s sheets and his lips tugs upward a little, a perverted thought crossing him that if the pinkette is in bed, that probably means he might be wearing some sexy pajamas or even better, nothing at all. 

Shit, he might be wearing panties.

“You fucking psycho, do you know how lenient I’m being for not blocking your sad self right now?” Sae slurs, soft and deep but also heavy with fatigue. Must be why the tanned boy is not blocked, Sae was asleep. Ryuusei smiles stretches wider at the notion that Sae didn’t leave him without a response due to his query being correct but rather because of typical Sae I’ll-cater-to you-if-I-care behavior. He’s also smiling because this is the first ever time he’s heard Sae’s voice in a while and he’s hit with how much he’s missed it.

Guess constant belittling and condescension doesn’t hit the same without the tone and lilt of a pretty voice. Ryuusei also has never heard Sae’s voice fresh out of bed and it comes as a surprise to no one that it’s kind of doing it for him. So, he smiles dumbly as Sae continues, all sleepy like, “Do you even know what time it is?” 

Oh right, that thing Ryuusei was irritated about in the first place. “I don’t know actually,” He huffs, indignant. “Because I don’t know the time difference between Japan and France!” 

“What?” The genius deadpans, sounding more awake all of the sudden. The sheet rustles once more as he seems to change position. When he speaks again, it’s clearer, yet still tainted with tiredness and punctuated by occasional yawns. “I’m not in France, you moron.” 

That’s actually so fucking good to know Sae couldn’t imagine, although, it doesn’t resolve the problem, “Yeah? Doesn’t matter, you—“

“And, for your information, I’m abroad to play soccer.” Sae speaks firmly into the receiver with an air of aggravation. Possibly because of the fact that it might be one in the morning where Sae currently resides. The pinkette quietly groans, like he’s tired of explaining this, “God, you and Rin—not everything revolves around you,” Sae says and Ryuusei is about to retort because the last he wants is to he compared to Rin Itoshi of all fucking people when Sae lets out a particular audible yawn—surely the one where he does with his whole face, that pushes his features back and have him groggy for a couple of seconds after doing it. Like a cat. — and  Ryuusei sighs, his mouth clamping shut at the genius obvious fatigue.

He quietly laughs into the phone, temporarily placated. “I really can’t be mad at you when you sound tired and yawn and shit,” The blonde admits, sheepishly scratching at his nape like Sae is there to see him. 

“You have no reasons to be mad at me at all.” Sae utters flatly, his words slow and blurry at the edges. 

Ryuusei casually leans back on his chair, content. Then, he asks with a complacent grin, “When can I call you that’s better, lashes?” 

“Don’t call me at all,” Sae weakly insists and behind him, more sheets shuffling sounds. 

“Alright, then you get no sleep and we have it out right now,” Ryuusei hums thoughtfully, awaiting Sae’s response with a bated breath. 

The midfielder says nothing on the other hand, hesitant, like he’s also aware of how ridiculous it is for the demon to be posing an ultimatum at him. Then, a reluctant sigh. Ryuusei’s face brightens instantly, feeling the thrill of the incoming positive response blooming inside of his chest. “4pm for me, 7pm for you.”

The striker drags his phone away from his face, covering the receiver so he can quietly scream of excitement away from Sae’s easily changeable mind. After he’s pumped his fist a few times, he tucks the phone back against his shoulder and purrs, “Talk to you tonight then, beautiful.”

“Don’t call—“

Ryuusei hangs up. 

Whether Sae wanted to scold him for assuming this meant they should postpone their call or scold him for the use of the pet name, it was the least of his concerns now. He begins to get ready for class with a pep in his step knowing that later tonight, he’ll get to hear the pretty boy once more. 

And even finding out that he’s two hours late, obviously missed the bus and his first classes aren’t enough to deteriorate his cheerful mood. From the back of his social studies class—that he was able to attend because it’s his fourth class of the day—he can hear Nagi lean in towards to Yukimiya and say in a muted and monotone, “Care bear Shidou is at it again…” and while Yukimiya struggles to cover up his fit of  giggles, Ryuusei really couldn’t agree more.

He does feel like a care bear. 

And by god, it feels really fucking good. 

                        #

Ryuusei is laying shirtless on his bed, towel strung across his shoulders with his phone placed in his hand as he patiently awaits for the clock to hit seven thirty so that it is socially acceptable to hit the call button. According to Otoya—who he’s had an extensive conversation about this in between classes,—it’s always best to wait a few minutes after the designated time for a call to make a girl wonder if you’re actually going to go through it because it makes them even more excited to hear from you when they thought for a moment that they wouldn’t.

And granted, Sae is not a girl. and, all this is doing is making him wonder if Sae will pick up or not if he’s a few minutes late, however, Otoya is a ninja master of the art of romance—or so he says— and Ryuusei thinks the guy is really funny therefore he can’t be wrong. 

So, when seven thirty came around, the blonde did not hesitate to call. Otoya made a mention of a bunch of other things like taking a nap before the call so your voice is perfectly raspy and you appear completely blasé of whether the call was to happen or not but Ryuusei did not really care to do all of that. Guess he’s too authentic for all of those other methods. 

It rings once. 

Twice. 

Three times. 

Ryuusei clicks his tongue and swipes to their conversation thread. 

‘you promised sae chan’ He sends, taping his fingers against the screen. He expects his pout to be perfectly translated by the text.

        - never agreed to anything 

The call ends, the big and bold NO ANSWER appearing on the screen irritating Ryuusei to no end because the boy is answering him. Answering his texts.

‘Don’t play dirty lashes, a deal is a deal’ He replies, clicking his tongue as he hopes this is enough to convince the genius. He’s much less swayed when not prone to the throes of dreamland and Ryuusei isn’t really a manipulator. Talking isn’t really his thing. If Sae was here in front of him, that would be a different story.

        - am I playing dirty?

        - You don’t deserve a call.

‘Let you sleep didn’t I?’ Ryuusei types back, mildly irritated and enamored at the same time. Typical Sae, everything is a reward for him. And Ryuusei eats it up every time. 

The genius doesn’t reply after that and the blonde wonders if it’s over, if he’ll just not answer his call and keep sending pictures like normal tomorrow. Over the idea that Ryuusei wasn’t worthy of the phone call. Sure it would piss him off now but he would just find ways to be worthy. He’ll do anything to get his way when it comes to Sae. 

When he’s about to put the phone down and go to sleep, try again tomorrow, his phone rings. The heart emoticon displayed over the screen as Ryuusei rushes to answer—almost letting the device slip out of his grasp. 

“That ultimatum earlier was playing dirty. You’re just lucky,” Sae speaks into the receiver, his voice clear now that he’s had a night of rest. There’s no noise where he is so Ryuusei assumes he must be inside, perhaps in his kitchen eating lunch. It is often at that time that he receives the genius’s lunch pictures. 

Ryuusei leans forward, getting impossible closer to the phone in the hopes that maybe he’ll get impossible closer to Sae. His heart is racing inside of his chest cavity but he’s simply—happy. To hear him, to know definitely that he at least sounds okay. He sounds good. So Ryuusei grins, a bit dopey, “I am lucky, been a while since I heard that voice,”

Sae stays quiet, a telltale sign that he’s—or at least his own version of— flustered. It usually means that the tips of his round ears have gone all pink. “We talked last night,” He voices, stating that like it’s a fact and ignoring the compliment behind the thought. 

Ryuusei can’t help but laugh. 

“Why are you laughing now? Have you officially gone insane?” Sae sighs as the screeching of a fork scratching against a plate reaches the blonde. 

He is eating lunch. 

Ryuusei keeps laughing, warm and lively. 

Inside the phone, it’s like he can almost hear Sae’s little microscopic smile as he listens quietly to the blonde’s chuckles. 

Once he’s done, Ryuusei breathes out, “I just really fucking missed that voice,” He finally confesses, although it doesn’t feel much like a confession when everyone already knew. It feels good to say it out loud nonetheless. “I really miss you. You sound hot, I know you also look really pretty eating—is it salmon? you said you would eat salmon this week so I’m assuming,”

Nothing on the other line. Then, “It is salmon. It’s—a good source of protein and great for bone health too,” Sae remarks offhandedly, clearly had that fact instilled in his brain for a while now. He gulps, barely audible but Ryuusei noticed it because well, of course he did. Then, Sae speaks in a softer, faint voice, “I suppose I do miss some stuff back home too.”

“Like me?”

“Like you.”

A shiver runs up the striker’s spine and he bites down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. “Mmh—fuck,” He groans, his phone hot on his cheek as he presses his thighs together to bring some attention to the growing problem in his briefs. “Can you say that again?”

Sae pauses. “Is this turning you on?” He pointedly asks as if he’s already aware of the answer.

“Oh, I’ve been turned on since you called me a psycho in that sleepy voice of yours, really got me going.” Ryuusei easily fesses up, his voice deep and teasing. He balances the phone between his face and shoulder as he trails his hand down his torso to his clothed, confined cock. He doesn’t slip it inside of his briefs yet, simply placing his palm on where his dick is seating at a half chub. “I had to jerk off in the shower before going to school.” 

“You actually aren’t a psychopath, just a perverted halfwit who thinks he’s entitled to my time,” The genius bites, all mean and bitchy and Ryuusei can only imagine the face he’s making with that tone, that superior raise of the eyebrow, a slight curl of his lip, maybe a roll of the eyeballs. Fuck, Ryuusei wishes he could be there to try and fuck the attitude out of him. Get his gorgeous narrowed eyes flooding with tears as he spits more degrading things towards the blonde. He grabs at his cock through the piece of clothing, hissing at how good that feels. He’s past that half chub now, Sae’s humiliating words turning Ryuusei on especially when Instead of reading those mean things through texts, he gets to hear them from the prodigy’s perfect mouth. 

“If we’re going there, Mh, should I, ah—give you my safe word?” Ryuusei taunts, rhythmically rubbing his palm up and down as he leaks inside of the briefs. He can feel the pre seep onto his palm and he’s glad for it because it provides a perfect glide for how he’s currently dry humping his own hand. “It’s apples.”

Sae hums, his meal long forgotten, “Any reasons for that?” He asks and his voice is almost high and breathy when it hits Ryuusei’s ears, provoking him, fucking taunting him and Ryuusei is nothing if not weak for a single person and a single person only, the one currently sighing in his ears and adding new material to his ongoing and growing collection of the things Sae Itoshi has ruined him for everyone else : sex edition. 

“They’re just a boring fucking fruit you know? I mean—“ He argues as he lets go of his clothed cock—difficult thing to do when you have Sae humming in agreement in your ears in a tone so soft and velvety it could pass as a moan if you squint. And Ryuusei squints.— to reach for the lotion seated on his bed table. He pumps it, small knobs of the cold and slick liquid falling into his open palm. 

“I don’t actually care, Ryuusei,” Sae drops the sultry and feathery sexy voice, an act to showcase what the pinkette wouldn’t be doing for the striker. It makes no difference for Ryuusei because Sae saying his name is always an immense turn on. Just the sound of those syllables hitting his ears had him hard enough that it was beginning to feel painful. He rushes to guide his now slick with lotion hand to his briefs, slipping the hand inside of it to make contact with his stiff cock. The initial contact along with Sae’s use of his first name almost has him moaning aloud but he bites it down, swallowing the metallic taste that spread through his mouth as he moves his hand up and down his cock at a leisure pace. 

Up. Down. Up. Down. 

The lotion does provide great friction and it feels so fucking good, Ryuusei almost lost the thread of this conversation. “You—shit, don’t?” He tightens his grip on the base of his cock, tuning back in the call. As much as he wishes it was, this isn’t a smut voice note left by Sae but a conversation he needs to be actively engaged in. 

“I’m not going to help you get off by degrading you,” The genius continues, despite his bit being over, his voice still sounds soft and low to Ryuusei, he could be reading the back of a goddamn shampoo bottle and it would have him shooting off all over himself. He mindlessly swipes his thumb over his moist tip, hissing through his teeth at how sensitive he is there. It already feels like he’s growing so close. 

“You don’t have to do anything,” Ryuusei moves again, this time he drops the lazy pace and speeds up the movement of his hand as he goes up and down on his cock in tandem with Sae’s talking on the other end. The noise of the skin to skin contact and the schlick of the lotion starting to be audible but he’s lost the reason to care. As beads of sweat run down his hairline, he pants into the phone, “You’re, ngh—perfect just the way you, ah!—are,” 

Ryuusei barely notices the silence growing on the other side of the call as he starts to thrust, long and rough, into his fist, open mouth panting. “Are you…jerking off.” Sae whispers in this breathy rasp, and if Ryuusei thought he sounded sexy before, he really wasn’t prepared for hearing him utter the words jerking off in such a sultry tone. 

“Yeah,” He breathes, letting the repetitive claps of his fist against his thighs speak for themselves.

“How many times have you jerked off to me exactly?” Sae asks casually, the words rumbling at the base of his throat. He sounds almost out of the breath as he asks so and Ryuusei has never wished to see someone as much he does this exact moment. 

Ryuusei is leaking all over his fingers, fist flying over his cock and eyes pressed shut to withstand the amount of pleasure having Sae directly acknowledge how hard and needy he makes him brings Ryuusei. “Too, f-fuck—many to count,”

Sae hums appreciatively, as if he’s proud of Ryuusei debauched ways, “What do you usually have me doing?”

“All t-types of stuff, mostly whatever you want to do to me.” He gasps, gritting his teeth through the onslaught of lighting coursing through his veins to conjure up the same thoughts he’s been having for months now, “Sometimes you step on mmh!— my dick, you spit in my mouth,” 

Ryuusei groans, feverish with lust, “I think about fucking you all the time,” 

“Oh Ryuusei, if I had known,” Sae starts, saccharine sweet, his voice seeming so much closer to Ryuusei that it actually is. For all he knows, an ocean separates them. “I would’ve told you that,”

“You’re pathetic,” Sae finishes in his usual husky and monotone, all low and hot as he hangs up. 

Ryuusei cackles, outraged as he puts his back into fucking his own fist. Of fucking course he would hang up on him after he said all that. There isn’t anyone on this planet more aggravating than Sae Itoshi and yet, Ryuusei is fucking obsessed. He goes in and out of his closed fist wishing it could be Sae’s warm and tight hole, “That son of a—oh! Closecloseclose,” He keels over, letting his phone fall from his hand as he throws his head back, chasing release with Sae’s voice still fresh in his mind. His wrist is cramping but he doesn’t care, his eyes squeezed shut as he drives in and out, imagining emptying his balls deep inside the midfielder. When Ryuusei cums, it’s with a “F-fuck, mmh! Sae, shit, Sae—“ hot on his tongue as he soils his knuckles with his release. 

He falls back on his pillow with an exhausted groan, wipes his hand on a nearby towel and proceeds to pass out with a smile on his face.

                       #

Despite remaining clueless on the precise location of the midfielder,—although he now has confirmation of the precise time difference between the two of them— that call turns out to be another turning point in their relationship. 

Daily updates attached with pictures and videos are still happening of course, even though, still no Sae sweaty gym selfie (or regular photos of his cute face for that matter) for the tanned boy but he’s convinced he’ll get there one day—in addition to those, the two boys have scheduled calls twice a day.

To be fair, those calls weren’t technically scheduled. Turns out that every time Ryuusei would find some time in between morning classes he’ll automatically call to check in on the genius. At first, the calls went to voicemail, less unanswered and more flat out refused. Nothing a little persuasion—and begging— couldn’t fix over time. Sae begun answering, not without his own grumbles and complaints and threats of blocking Ryuusei’s number from his phone. And then, mellowing out, he started answering after the first ring, as if he expected the call. He wouldn’t waste time to either complain about an idiot he just had to deal with or bash the poor soccer skills of a random player from a match he’d currently be watching. 

Every morning Ryuusei would call, and Sae, in the evening, would answer. 

And just like the pictures, over time, Sae started calling too. His calls would be around seven in the evening for the blonde and four in the afternoon for himself. The first time he called, it was to asked the name of a specific Japanese snack he was looking for, once he got the answer he hung up immediately but Ryuusei knew it had already burst open a dam that couldn’t be repaired so easily. 

They would now call twice a day,  Calling while doing homework in the evening and listening to Sae get ready to go grocery shopping. Calling while brushing his teeth in the morning and listening to the genius grill fish in the background. Calling just to complain about how reckless and idiotic the video Ryuusei just sent him is. Calling even when busy, just to hear each other’s voices in the background of whatever they’re doing. And maybe calling while jerking off just to get there faster. Ryuusei gets banned from calling for days each time he does that however he never really regrets it nor feels shame about it—far from that—and he doesn’t think Sae does either. 

Calling because Shidou Ryuusei is allowed to call Itoshi Sae. And most importantly calling because it makes the distance a little bit easier. 

Time passes. Days grow warmer and evenings cooler. Leaves start to take on an red-orange tint, gently falling crisp on the ground for every passing minute. The air grows dry, Ryuusei starts downing three water bottles during his morning classes as he practically crawls into the AC while at the same time, pleading for his weighted blanket to magically heat itself during particularly freezing nights. 

It’s obvious to everyone that October has marked its beginning. 

Which means—

‘Birthday around the corner baby’ Ryuusei messages the pinkette as he effortlessly leans against the school’s vending machine. His break is going to last an hour longer because his social study teacher seems to have left school for some pregnancy checkups. Might as well use the extra time to breach this conversation topic with the reserved genius. Also, the vending machine is malfunctioning once again and his Kit Kat is stuck and won’t move.—and yes, Ryuusei tried to shake the damn thing, it’s the first thing he thought of. But it’s fixed to the goddamn ground.

     - Don’t call me that 

Is Sae’s reply fifteen minutes later, a record in their texting history. Ryuusei’s texts in the morning always gets answered at least one hour after he sent them. The midfielder must have acquired some free time as well. 

 - how do you even know something like that 

‘something something took a peek inside your school file awhile back’ The blonde writes back, snorting to himself. That’s not even a lie either. They let you do anything if you say that it’s needed for the sake of your academic affiliations. So what if he needs Sae Itoshi’s file to make sure he doesn’t have any allergies to the paints and brushes they’re using? That is a completely valid request and concern.

    - how legal and sane of you 

Ryuusei sweeps his eyes towards the sky, feeling faint irritation. He hates when the genius plainly doesn’t answer shit he doesn’t want to talk about. He replies with a click of his tongue, ‘Don’t avoid the topic lashes’

           - What?

     - did you think my files were somehow wrong about my birth date 

‘you smart mouth’ Ryuusei comments, although that does makes him chuckle a little, his shoulders slightly shaking with humor. Sae doesn’t respond after that, deeming the conversation to be over but the tanned teen still has details he wants to know about. 

Ten minutes later, he sends again, ‘parents and rinrin flying over?’

     - that would be the least likely thing to happen 

‘No?’ That surprises Ryuusei. He would think that brocon would love to see big bro for his birthday. However, if he doesn’t and Sae’s own mother doesn’t bother to fly out to see him either, that would mean that Sae would spend his birthday alone. Ryuusei kicks his foot against the vending machine at that, bothered. 

   - Who cares? I don’t celebrate 

After that, the genius went offline. That was signal enough that this discussion was truly over. But, Ryuusei wouldn’t let it go so easily. He refuses to let Sae be convinced that no one cares about the day he came into this world, Ryuusei would easily place that in the top ten of best things that have ever happened.

To him, at least. 

And no birthday celebrations? Is that a thing since he’s been living abroad or even when he still resided in Japan? Both options seem bleak. Either this is going to be Sae’s first birthday alone or Sae has always spent his birthdays lonely and now he gets to sit in it alone. 

He dips his head back, hitting the glass of the shitty vending machine as he thinks it over. The midfielder doesn’t have to celebrate if he believes that he doesn’t have the desire for it, Ryuusei will still find a way to make this day special. 

A special day for his special boy. 

Behind him, the Kit Kat finally topples over its spot, tumbling down and landing in the dispensing area with a thud.

                      #

Sayaka is stretched out on his bed, legs spread open with her head resting on his pillow. Her mop of pink hair spilling all over  the pillow head forming a gentle halo in the late afternoon lighting of his bedroom. She’s simpering at him, her dark eyes shining with mischief as her manicured hand stroking the exposed part of her stomach where her dark shredded crop top as ridden up. In between her legs, fitted in a tiny skirt and black tights, rests her computer. Where they had been watching YouTube music videos since she came over a couple of hours ago. Or rather, the videos serve as background noise to Ryuusei’s pensive rants as Sayaka occasionally throws encouraging nods at him while popping her chewing gum. 

She’s growing a bit restless of all her attempts at caressing the striker’s arm flirtatiously, popping her hip or flashing her cleavage being unsuccessful for the past few hours. Although she’s always eager to just platonically hang out with him, she had hope that he would plow her into the mattress like last time. But now, he doesn’t even notice her advances, too busy pacing and worrying about the upcoming birthday of a certain Sae and how he refuses for Sae to be alone when it arrives and how he needs to find a way to be there.—On Ryuusei’s side, he’s truly clueless of her advances. Possibly because the only times he’s had sex, it was explicitly stated that this what was going to happen so he never had to decipher some sort of code. Additionally, ever since he’s gotten Sae’s back, it’s hard to even fake being half satisfied with Sayaka and his’s unexplosive sex. 

“I need to find out where Sae is now more than ever you know?” Ryuusei insists, plopping down next to her on the bed, making her jump. Sayaka knows better than to insinuate that the blonde should ask Sae because that last time she did—fifty minutes ago—ended in a rant about how she wouldn’t understand. 

Instead, she deadpans, while rhythmically smacking her gum, “Yup, so you’ve said,” Her words drooling with sarcasm. And the tanned boy is about to sound off once more, at ease with her lack of a distinct opinion or advice on the matter when he finally notes the derision in that sentence. He stops himself in the middle of wondering out loud what gifts would be better suited for Sae if he does get there—wherever that is— to strike her exposed stomach with his foot. She easily catches his ankle and twists it, her jaw moving with lazy, deliberate defiance. 

When she lets go, Ryuusei repeats her previous words at her in a drawling high and nasal voice with his hand flipping open and closed repeatedly, clearly intending to mock. Sayaka giggles, attempting to kick away at his hand and Ryuusei laughs too as he drags his hand out of reach. 

They’re interrupted by an upbeat cheerful sound coming from Ryuusei’s pocket. It makes the striker freeze, aware of whose designated sound notification that is. He tears his phone out of his pocket and there it is, that heart emoticon he’s grown so fond of receiving messages from.  

               - ? 

Simple. To the point. Perfectly understandable considering it’s past seven in the afternoon and Ryuusei had completely forgotten about their call. Too busy talking about him to remember he had to talk to him. 

Ryuusei bites down his bottom lip. He doesn’t really know if he can hold a conversation with the genius without mentioning his plans for his birthday. Ryuusei tells Sae everything, he’s practically an open book. 

“Who is it?” Sayaka prods, sticking her neck out to try and take a peek at his text messages. 

Ryuusei palms her cheek, pushing her face away from his screen, “Hold on,” He dictates, not leaving that up for banter. 

Sayaka raises her shoulders indifferently, falling back on the bed and pressing play on a the music video, the colorful lyrics and beat taking over the silence in the room. 

At first, Ryuusei thinks to just call the genius on the spot and have their daily call with the pink haired girl in the room. However, something tells him that’s not something the reserved midfielder would appreciate. And he’s already been banned from calls for three days in a row last week. He’s on very thin ice. ‘I’m with Sayaka’ The striker intelligently writes back instead.

                - ?

Another question mark is sent worryingly quick and Ryuusei breezes through an explanation, ‘She’s kinda my fuck buddy at the moment I told you about her’

    - I don’t think you did no

‘You know now’ the demon responds with a taunt, an idea brewing at the back of his head. 

Sae has always been especially possessive. He prohibits daily calls when one of them is around others, suspiciously never replies when Ryuusei sends pictures of himself along with other people and categorically refuses to hear any stories about Ryuusei getting accosted by possible suitors when he’s outside. In typical Sae fashion, he’s extremely feigned about it but to a knowing eye, it’s clear as day. A couple of ‘who are those again’ and ‘I don’t care about the irrelevant people you’re around’ and ‘Tell me you don’t actually enjoy the company of these morons’ it’s not hard for Ryuusei to tell that Sae will probably reply with—

             - Right

      - Did you really expect me to remember her name 

‘Yeah yeah, talk to you later pretty boy’ Ryuusei dismisses, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he tosses his phone. It lands next to the pillow where Sayaka’s head is resting. She glances at it briefly, ever the gossip, but otherwise does nothing. 

He pushes himself off the bed and heads for the door. He leaves the bedroom for the kitchen, strutting his way to the fridge where he flings it open and grabs at the almost empty carton of orange juice. As he’s pouring himself a glass of what is definitely past expiration date liquid, Sayaka comes running in the kitchen, his phone grasped in her manicured hand. 

“Saya, you insatiable snoop—“ The blonde begins to teases her but is quickly interrupted by her cackles. She’s dissolving into a fit of laughter before his eyes and he’s admittedly a bit perplexed.

She takes a deep breath, “Ryu, you naughty boy!” She kids in between the remaining breathless chuckles, shoving his own phone in his face. 

“Huh?” The blonde tilts the device back so that he’s actually able to observe what is clearly being shown to him. It’s the page layout for a video that hasn’t been played yet but the cover is perceptive enough. It’s blurry but it features the nude upper half body of a boy, his face is hidden from the camera. Stunning curled magenta locks appear past where the head has been cut off, trickling down his shoulders. The blades are tinted with a provocative pink almost as if blush was applied. Though, that’s not the case, it’s the pure natural flush of Itoshi Sae. 

Ryuusei gulps, his mouth feeling dry all of the sudden. 

“I could tell you were with someone by the way you were always on your phone and kept talking about that Sae girl,”  Sayaka continues with a proud grin as if pleased with herself for ‘knowing’ that the blonde was in a ‘committed relationship’. She dangles the device in front of him, postering it as evidence for her argument. 

Ryuusei blinks, a tad more coherent now that his sight isn’t obscured by Sae’s slutty chest. “What,” He utters, still dumbfounded. And steadily growing erect.

Fuck, that flush. So prettily pink. 

“But I always thought that was kind of hot,” She admits, finally placing the phone in the blonde’s hands. He doesn’t hesitate to read what’s written under the video, searching for the context in which the genius would send him what seems to be a slice of heaven in a four seconds clip. 

And the message under the video reads;

‘Just so you don’t forget who you belong to, demon’

Ryuusei can’t help but feel an enamored smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Of course that competitive asshole would need to prove that he’s a better libido stimulant for the striker than anyone else. 

He clicks on the video. 

It’s most definitely Sae. Ryuusei can tell just by the dainty and lengthy fingers we see propping the camera in the first second. He’s on the ground, knees bent and tucked under with his thick thighs flat on the floor and feet pointing outward. From this angle it almost looks like whoever is watching is towering over the midfielder. You can’t really see below his upper body but Ryuusei can’t tell he’s not wearing any pants, perhaps clothed only in his tight branded boxer brief which highlights his asscheeks perfectly—Ryuusei would know because that’s what he wore the last time they saw each other and when Ryuusei found the specific pair of underwear at a fashion boutique, he was tempted to purchase it just to smell it and imagine it was his. What’s visible on screen is only the waistband but it’s enough to get the demon going. 

When the camera tilts upward, Ryuusei can see the genius’s pointed chin, his flushed shoulders and most importantly, something Ryuusei dreams of almost every night, his goddamn tits. And the perky pink nipples that come with. 

He lets out a long suffering groan.

Sayaka snorts with laughter, suddenly reminding Ryuusei of her presence. “Welp, I wouldn’t want to anger your boyfriend even more...” She shrugs, reaching for her studded handbag lying on the couch. Ryuusei doesn’t bother to correct her and she effortlessly tosses the bag over her shoulder. “Call me if you guys go on break,”

“But not if you guys break up. I hate single guys.” She notes with a smirk, one hand on the front door handle. Then, with a girlish finger wave, she leaves, closing the door behind her with a bang and a cloud of vanilla essence. 

He lets out a breath of laughter, unsurprised at the characters he always seems to attract. 

He clicks off the video—saving it at the flash of light before the genius changes his mind and decides delete it. And wouldn’t that be a tragedy?— to slide in his text message thread and hit the call button. 

No answer. 

He calls again. 

No answer. 

He walks to the couch, realizing that he had been standing in the middle of the kitchen even since Sayaka left and lets himself collapse on the cheap sofa, phone still in hand. This time, he texts, feeling the need to tease, ‘So why did we do that?’

       - what do you mean 

‘The video? god baby you’re trying to kill me?’ The tanned boy responds not even a second later after receiving that reply, still feeling a bit doozy from all the blood rushing south so fast. He’s definitely jerking off to that video a few times tonight. 

And maybe tomorrow morning too. 

It would simply be unkind to refuse a gift so generous.

  - you better have not fucked her when you have this to satisfy you, you greedy pervert

‘Who cares about her, what do I have to do to get more’ is what Ryuusei is about to retort—knowing that it doesn’t work like that with Sae and maybe that’s the best part—when he finds a way to spin this that just might work out in his favor.  

‘you know you’re gorgeous, can’t believe I missed out on that face’ The blonde texts, feeling the need to start with that because no amount of mastermind plans can’t have him being dishonest about that. 

‘Oh but sae chan my girlfriend was in the room and she saw! I’m afraid our relationship is no more’ He adds next, hoping that the overall insincere sentiment isn’t easily transcribed through texts.

      - how is that my problem?

      - You weren’t even together 

Sae has chosen the logical and apathetic route but unfortunately for him, Ryuusei also knew how  to play his cards right. He types, ’I know but I’m still bummed I could’ve fallen in love with her’ 

He’ll respond with a fact that Sae can’t refute. It couldn’t be more untrue and he’s sure the pinkette himself is aware of this but without proof, all he’ll say is—

           -  …

Then, Ryuusei will get to reply with, ‘it’s alright though, as long you can make it up to me’ 

A beat. 

Then.

         - what do you want. 

Like taking candy from a baby. Or more so like manipulating an aloof pretty boy into letting himself be cared for. 

        - I’m not doing a sex tape 

         - I don’t feel that bad 

Fuck, that would’ve been such a good ask too. 

Sadly, it will have to wait. Ryuusei has something very specific he wants to ask, the thing he’s been looking for, for months now with no clues. And with how much it’s been eating at him then dangled in front of him like fresh blood to man eating sharks then flat out refused when he was so close to get it, he doesn’t even hesitate and sends, ’Your location pretty please lashes’

He doesn’t receive it. As expected, Sae goes offline shortly after that. Ryuusei is not too worried about it. 

He welcomes his grandmother home with a bone crushing hug—she does sneer at him suspiciously and threatens to kill him if he’s done something illegal again—,reheats the day old miso soup in the microwave for them to eat, goes on with his night routine—takes off his eyeliner, attempts homework then quickly gives up on homework, brushing his teeth energetically, blasting his music to piss off the neighbors as a treat— and heads to bed without a doubt in his mind that Sae will come through. 

And if there’s one thing Ryuusei can always count on the genius for is always holding up his end of the bargains. It comes as no surprise the next day when he turns on his phone in the morning—he rushed to it first thing. He’s not that patient.—and the first things he sees is a pin, signaling that Itoshi Sae had shared his location with him. 

Cut to a couple victory bounces on his squeaky mattress, shirtless victory laps around his living room and victory shouts on the balcony—with a couple of neighbors yelling at him to tone it the fuck down—and Ryuusei has finally reacted with a red heart to the message. 

Now is time to activate the plan. 

3 days before Sae’s birthday.

“I’m going to Spain.” Is what Ryuusei wishes he could say but as of now, he officially only has one thousand, seven hundred and five yen in his bank account. And that’s counting the pennies he dug out of the holes of the couch and the few yens he discovered when smashing open his childhood piggy bank. Turns out his years of being a firm non believer of saving money—because how boring is that? Look at that guy, he responsibly puts money aside and takes caution when spending. What’s next, the goody-two-shoes files his damn taxes?—have finally caught up to him now that he needs a large sum of money for a specific goal.

Backed against a corner, Shidou Ryuusei had no choice but to figure out a way to acquire money in a short time period if he wants any chance of making it to Sae before his birthday.

He goes out of his way to find quick and undemanding ways to make money but he soon finds out that when you’re only freshly eighteen, coming from a lower middle class family with a very unstable income and unwilling—at least for now— to perform highly illegal acts.

It’s nearly helpless.

Becoming the local furniture assembly, moving help, or minor repairs boy and having to withstand the racist political views of his senior customers for one thousand yen each service,—they always have something to say about his tan but somehow no one is that chatty when he tries and swipe the ground under grandpa huh? Suffice to say his reputation went down the drain after a day.

Providing general labor shifts which is to say that he sweeps the streets and cleans his own art off walls for five thousand yen a day. Sometimes a few passers-by would thank him for his service and he would have to hold himself back. This one was well remunerated but obviously the cost to pay was Ryuusei’s soul.

Even selling candies to the high schoolgirls in that haughty school not far from their public school. This one was also working really well—because their parents also don’t feed them but unlike real poor people, it’s on purpose.—and Ryuusei would rack four to seven thousand yen a day up up to the point where their school security—much more muscular than theirs—caught him and banished the students from going out of the school during recess. Business sunk after that.

A flight ticket to Spain is a hundred thousand sixty seven yen and that’s only to go. Ryuusei over a week had amassed a total of thirty thousand and twenty eight yen. That’s not even enough to pay off his grandmother student loans. And she’s his grandmother. She doesn’t pay her loans because she doesn’t want to— insists her nursing diploma was useless and the government doesn’t deserve a cent of her money—. Ryuusei had made little to no advancement towards his goal and it was now three days away from the midfielder’s birthday.

They had left him with no choice.

“Purple topknot, you mind helping me out?” Ryuusei asks with a cunning grin, his bare feet tickled by the expensive carpet of Reo Mikage’s luxurious apartment. Just to reach this place, he had to call the purple haired teen down to come get him at the reception because he couldn’t tell the receptionist which apartments were Reo’s and which were his parents. That should speak for the wealth he has and while Ryuusei has always taken that for granted—didn’t notice is actually a better word or perhaps never cared enough to— it’s now come to his attention that one of his closest friends is literally rich. “I’m finally going to get some real explosions,”

“Explosions huh?” Reo scoffs, “You know I still haven’t forgotten how you also totally blew me off in the name of explosions,” He fumes, referring to how carelessly Ryuusei switched their plans on that Saturday just for Sae. While it’s true Ryuusei could’ve gone better about it,— instead of texting Reo the night before; ‘we’ll smash cars another day grimace shake I got ass to dive in!!’ Which Ryuusei thought was pretty to the point. He gave an explanation for bailing out, that’s better than what he usually does. which is not show up. But, What’s also true is—

“Like you wouldn’t have done the same to me for your treasure?” Ryuusei points out with a snort of laughter, giving the unamused Reo a playing shoulder nudge. which actually almost sent him flying.

Reo huffs and with a sharp upward hitch of his shoulder, shrugs off the blonde’s weight, leaving him to stumble. Once he regains his balance, he shoots the purplehead a look of annoyance and gets a blank stare right back.

Alright, Reo is upset about this.

Probably got all up in his head about it.

Ryuusei stretches casually, spreading his hands behind his head. Eyeing the shorter male, he placates with a smile, “Once I come back we’ll do whatever you want alright! Crush as many cars as there is,”

“I don’t want to wreck cars, asshole, I proposed that in the first place to help you feel better—“

“Great!” Ryuusei exclaims, pleased as he brings his hands down on Reo’s shoulders. He shakes him a little, his untied hair flying in every direction, “And since we didn’t get to do that, you can get me a flight to Spain instead!”

Reo closes his eyes and lets out a long, deep sigh. When he reopens them, his mind seems made up as he begrudgingly reaches for his phone, “I guess I could ask my dad to let you borrow the private jet,”

“Do I get to—“

“No, you don’t get to fly it.”

Ryuusei’s eyebrows push together in disappointment and he lets go off the wealthy teen’s shoulders with a wobble. As he sulks, Reo presses his phone to his face. Probably making a quick call with his  father—and with how much Ryuusei knows he hates doing that, he could squeeze him to death right now, affectionately.

The call ends and Reo frowns, “Shit I think he’s using it this whole month, Shidou,” He puts his phone down, licking his lips nervously, “I’m sorry I’m gonna have to,”

Is this it?

Will Ryuusei have save up to visit the genius for Valentine’s Day instead?—as if he’ll even have enough by then— or will he have to wait for Reo’s dad to be done with the private jet so he can visit Sae at Christmas? But, that defeats the whole purpose of going there for the genius’s birthday. Ryuusei deflates, his smile sliding off his face as he feels significantly more disappointed.

“I guess I’m gonna have to get you a place in business,” Reo compromises, looking truly sympathetic as he breaks out the news. He looks away from  Ryuusei as he fishes for his credit card, behaving as if he’s ashamed that it had to come to this.

“Are you kidding me?” Ryuusei asks with a hint of wonder, appalled.

“I know right? I didn’t even know you could do air travel with other people.” Purple bun remarks, appalled too but for a whole other reason. As always, He just seems surprised at what regular people have to go through. He types in the digits of his card on the screen. “But I heard they have a mini bar in there so there’s that?”

An high pitched ching sound comes from the phone, indicating that a purchase has gone through. This means that Reo just bought his expensive flight ticket casually as if he just bought a couple of snacks.

He’s going to see Sae.

Ryuusei cackles madly, “Are you fucking kidding me?” He bounces on his feet, unable to contain his eagerness. Without thinking, he tackles him in a hug, the purplehead’s feet leaving the ground as he swing him around, his whines of disapproval echoing in his ears. “Oh, purple bun, you rich prick!”

“Don’t get too close to Reo,” Nagi mutters where’s he’s lounging on the leather couch, less than five feet away from them and yet, Ryuusei lets go of Reo reflexively, startled.

“Fuck! how long have you been there, you white ghost?”

Reo giggles, his feet hitting the ground. “He’s been here the whole time. We were going to—hang out,” He coughs, his purple eyes guiltily darting towards a narrow eyed Nagi. “until you came over,”

“Unannounced.” The lazy genius notes, his tone accusatory and borderline whiny.

“I don’t want your man dude, I’m going to world class pussy like you’ve never seen,” Ryuusei marvels, a wide smile etched permanently on his face. He’s too excited to be offended.

“Classy.” Reo comments sarcastically, as he prints out the flight ticket. He has an at home printer situated in his living room and that’s a sign of wealth that even Ryuusei can acknowledge.

Ryuusei shrugs, effortlessly smug. “Yeah, he’s classy too,” He steps up to Nagi and offensively takes hold of his messy bangs to shake his head. The white haired boy tears his head away from his grip, a malevolent sneer written on his face feature. The blonde could almost laugh, the dude is so easily jealous, “It’s good you guys are on again,” Ryuusei jeers at him as Reo hands him the flight papers. The striker doesn’t hesitate to snatch them out of his hand and runs his eyes across the paper.

His plane is said to land exactly on Sae’s birthday.

He lets out a breath of relief, folding the documents and placing them in his back pocket.

At that previous joke, Nagi reveals nonchalantly, “Reo started taking his meds again,” and the aforementioned lets out an offended gasp, flinging a couch pillow at the clueless genius. He dodges it confidently and gently holds Reo’s wrist.

“Nagi! How can you say that—“

Ryuusei eyes the graceful gold bracelet dangling on Nagi’s knuckles where’s he’s grasped Reo’s wrist, “Say Reo-chan, one last thing,” He adds and Reo stops his argument to turn to him, humming inquisitively, “Where can I get jewelry like that?”

2 days before Sae’s birthday.

The blonde has gotten started on his luggage, although there’s not much to pack for a three day trip. He does make sure to pack his gift for Sae first, the small pink box nestled next to his underwears and tank tops. He’ll stay abroad from Friday to Monday—during the entirety of Sae’s birthday weekend. what that implies though is that he will have to miss classes and without a doctor’s note, they will most definitely count that as a tally in the obliterate Shidou Ryuusei from our school side of their minds.

Therefore, Ryuusei finds himself early to school so he can ask for permission and as he’s seated, legs wide open on the chairs in front of the principal’s office he’s struck with how much of a nightmare this is going to be. He may have made every staff member of this school despise him—expect for Kei, the janitor. He has taken a reluctant liking to the blonde. He wishes for Ryuusei to tone down the fighting though. He’s probably just like them too.—And it makes it very difficult to have to suck up to them now.

He does get what he wants after thirty minutes of holding back his temper so he doesn’t rip the principal face to shreds. He had to convince them that his grandfather on his mother’s side—“Who’s Spanish! That’s why I’m so tan?”—has fallen ill and Ryuusei was needed by his side because everyone is convinced his last days are near. With the theatrics he put out there, fuck Aryu for saying that the drama club isn’t for him. He gets out of the office with a slip that authorize his absence but also a want to bash someone’s face in.

And surprise, surprise, who does he bump into the minute he rounds the corner of the principal’s office?

Rin Itoshi himself.

It’s like the kid is asking for a beating.

“Can I help you, Rin-rin?” Ryuusei sings, cracking his knuckles as he stares down the younger teen. Rin is boring a hole into his face, just staring fiercely as if Ryuusei had personally offended him and technically if you don’t count that time the blonde crushed his knuckles on the side of his face, he’s really done nothing to warrant that reaction.

“So, it’s true?” He scorns, making a hand motion toward the crumbled up piece of paper in Ryuusei’s hand, “You’re seriously going to visit my brother?”

Ryuusei bears all his teeth with the smile that breaks out on his face. Smugly, he says, “What’s it to you?”

“I can’t believe you get to see him and I don’t.” Rin mutters almost to himself, his voice small likewise to one of a child. He glares, face twisted with a furious expression, at the striker, his shoulders squared and trembling.

“Hey, you can still hop on a plane—“ The blonde taunts, hands itching for a fight, shoved in his pockets as he tears the younger Itoshi apart. “Oh wait, you can’t. ‘Cause you’re a bore with no tickets,” He wets at his bottom lip, mischief shining in his eyes.

What’s a little brawl as a treat?

Rin almost bites. His eyelids twitching rapidly with barely suppressed rage. “Fuck you— you know what,” He breathes, his chest heaving as he tries to calm himself down. Don’t get him wrong, it’s hilarious watching the Itoshi try his hand at breathing exercises but he wants to make this fight quick. The last thing he needs is witnesses. He takes his hands out of his pockets but before he can raise his foot and bring it down on the annoying kid’s face, a badly wrapped gift is shoved in his hand. “Just be useful for once and give this to Sae when you see him. From me.”

The box is electric blue—probably what Rin assume the color of his and Sae’s eyes are—it’s shaped in a cylindrical containand either this is a perfume bottle or a bizarrely shaped tea set. The bows are tied so pathetically, Ryuusei would believes four year old helped in the wrapping of this gift.

“Little bro! How adorable,” Ryuusei coos, moving quick to pinch Rin’s cheek. The teen recoils with disgust. His jaw clenched and his teeth gritted as he restrains himself. Why? Ryuusei wouldn’t know and he’s certainly not grateful either. But— “Say what? As your future brother in law I’ll gladly get your macaroni necklace to Sae.”

“Whatever,” Rin mumbles but his fingers slowly stop digging into his palms. He’s unclenching his fists, visibly relieved. The line between his brows smoothes out and his face resets to his regular unbothered expression. He turns on his heels, his long bang flowing with the movement, walking away from the ticking bomb of a boy behind him. As he goes, he stills and adds, his voice small, “Wish him an happy birthday okay? He cares about this stuff,”

Then off he goes.

Ryuusei snorts, looking down on the present in his arms. He’ll make sure to place it far away from his on the inside of his suitcase.

1 day before Sae’s birthday. 

His plane is set to take off in ten hours and the blonde has scrambled all morning, wondering if he has enough time to finalize packing—which is funny because he’s been wide awake since last night, his eyes dry and burning and didn’t think to even close his suitcase or search for his missing phone charger. He’s just been wide awake because of how psyched he is. Well, psyched and the tiniest bit, nervous—while running around in the apartment. He manages to closes his suitcase, check if it’s doesn’t go over the required weight, realize he’s packed too many accessories, decide that he refuses to take any of them out because how will his outfits remain sick without them, ensure he has his essentials—passport, chargers, condoms— all in time. And with five hours to go, he slips into a pair of sweatpants and hauls his suitcase to the front door. 

His phone vibrates and Ryuusei winces, aware of who that is. The man he’s been avoiding since last night. He purposefully messaged him to postpone their call for tomorrow thinking that he would’ve gotten a grip by then and stop barking the word plane any time he opens his mouth but it’s like Sae’s presence heightens that reaction. Fuck, he’s realizing terrible things about himself like how he’s seemingly awful at keeping surprises. It’s even harder not saying anything to the pinkette especially because he doesn’t ask. Doesn’t care nor notices when things are being hidden from him and it’s torture. Ryuusei wants to tell him so badly, he wants to yell as soon as he answers the phone; “Don’t go to bed pretty, I’ll be right there!” 

He declines the call.

Doesn’t even bother giving an explanation. He itches to but Ryuusei would rather not tempt the slumbering beast that is his blabbering mouth. 

When he tips his head up, taking his gaze away from Sae’s question mark reply, his eyes meet similar fierce pink ones. Expect his don’t throw daggers.

Ryuusei stills.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Suki taps impatiently her feet against the carpet, all wrapped up in her cheetah print robe. His grandmother had been holed up in his room all week, having gotten broken up with by her latest beau and Ryuusei has to admit that he did use that to his advantage to prepare for his trip without any of—this. 

Ryuusei scratches at the column of his throat, a cheeky grin on his lips, “I’ll be back before you know it gran-gran,” He reassures her, gripping the handle of his suitcase. 

“Not my question,” she retorts decidedly, the juxtaposition of her stern voice and her wild greasy hair cascading down her shoulders—only one roller wrapped around her bangs—would be funny if he didn’t have a flight to take in a little over five hours. “Where are you going?” Suki repeats, punctuating each word with a distinct pause. 

Ryuusei : liquor store? 

Suki : with a luggage?

Ryuusei: drug deal?

Suki : dressed like that?

Ryuusei : …internship at a hotel?

Suki : Nice try. 

“Why did your school call me to confirm my approval of your three day absence?”She gravelly asks with a smack of her lips, crossing her arms under her chest. 

“Pieces of shit,” Ryuusei blurts out with spite, unsurprised but still annoyed. How is this even allowed? He’s technically a legal adult. He suspiciously narrows his eyes at her, “You said yes, right?” 

“Of course I said yes,” She whines and in the corner of his eye, the blonde is witnessing in real time the clock ticking towards his inevitable tardiness. His face twists in anguish—which his grandmother zeroes in, “Where are you going Shidou Ryuusei.” Suki says again, this time her tone somber and authoritative. 

Ryuusei sighs, “If I tell you, will you try and come with?”

“Yes!” She cries out, flinging her arms open in offense. Suki taps her foot down once again, attempting to express outrage but it’s closer to a tantrum. “Either I come with or you don’t go at all!”

“Why should you be the only to have fun?” She complains, pointing an accusatory finger towards the blonde. Her face is screwed together, her expression bitter and resentful. Ryuusei can tell that this isn’t about him at all, it’s about whoever broke her heart a week ago. 

Perhaps it is a little bit about him too, she’s not the only with issues of being left out of something fun. 

Of being abandoned. 

“Alright,” He concedes, letting go of handle of his luggage. His grandmother’s shoulders drop, expecting more of a fight. She watches him march towards her calmly, taking long strides across their living room. By the time he’s standing tall right in front of her, she’s already opened her mouth to spew out more insecure crap and when Ryuusei grasps her shoulders and spins her body around, she doesn’t see it coming. Disoriented, she’s easily guided into a nearby chair, tripping over her feet as she’s sat on it. Ryuusei easily tugs on a cable behind the television, using it to wrap around the body of his guardian. Effectively trapping her. 

That’s a method he’s learned when he was eleven.

“Ryuusei!” She barks indignantly, bending her body left and right, trying to free herself. Despite the amount of times he’s used this specific technique, she never sees it coming. “Untie me!”

Her grandson strolls to the door, numb to her dramatic cries. That’s how he’s realized she’s really aged, she used to be much better at that. Over the course of the years she’s managed to wear down his sense of empathy which had never been very high to begin with, “I’ll called that guy to come untie you and maybe he’ll be able to calm your ass down,“ Ryuusei lets her know, taking hold of his luggage once again. He twists the doorknob, “I’ll be back before you know it,” 

Behind him, his grandmother doesn’t make any sound, silently fuming. Knowing her, she’s probably wishing to go back to those days when their brawls used to be much more equal. Ryuusei has gotten a lot more stronger since then. He exhales a nostalgic breath at that and finishes, “I wouldn’t leave you forever, Oba-san,”

“You should know that.” He mouths with finality, slinging the door open.

He closes the door behind him, rattling the walls as usual with the force of it and rushes to the bus station. Luckily, despite running behind schedule, he makes it before the last bus departure—almost kissed that middle aged bus driver right then and there—, makes it to the airport, checks himself in—he was the last passager too, goddamn it Suki, making him miss out on wandering in the grande cold building— and immediately boarded the plane. 

This being his first time in a plane, he expected to be awake throughout it, thinking over what he’ll say to Sae, what he’ll do. He thought he would watch movies in the little built in tablets inside the seats and screw Reo, that seat was actually the most comfortable place he’s ever rested his butt in. He expected to pretend to fully speak English to the airplane fancy ladies just because they had no idea that he couldn’t. He was so excited to eat airplane food. 

He slept like a baby during the whole flight.

Sae’s Birthday. 

Ryuusei lands in Madrid on the morning of Sae’s birthday. He barely registers going down the plane’s stairs, even less collecting his belongings at the baggage claims carousels. He did found himself more awake when he passed through customs and passports control though, but that’s only because from the get-go, they prattled on in complex English and he had to politely ask—threaten—them to slow it the fuck down owing to the fact that he just got off a ten hour flight.

And, he hasn’t attended his English classes in over a month.

Once he steps outside the airport, he’s welcome with a breeze of warm air in his face. He’s sure to catch one the best tan of his life with those rays, he thinks, the searing hot Spanish sun caressing his skin with tiny prickles of pain. He can already feel the beginning of sweat droplets  gliding down his forehead and he’s suddenly very thankful that he forgot to apply gel to his hairstyle before the flight, it would’ve definitely gotten in his eyes by now.—Not that it doesn’t already happens during particularly long soccer matches, he should be used to the slight burn at this point. The pink tips of his hair tickle his shoulder blades and some strands even get thrown in his face due to the force of the wind.

The sun almost blinds him when he grins at it from ear to ear.

Ryuusei doesn’t waste time to stop a taxi, a white car with a red diagonal stripe picking him up before he even has time to remember that he doesn’t speak a lick of Spanish. The brown man driving the vehicle doesn’t mind, letting the clumsy tourist that is Ryuusei jump in his car while he places his suitcase in the trunk.

The man says, “Where?” and since that’s one of the most basic English words there is, the blonde is easily able to just soundlessly pass him his phone so he can follow the location Sae shared with him.

The car rumbles, the ride starts and Ryuusei spends the first twenty minutes of it looking out the window, He missed out on seeing Spain from above seeing as he passed out for the entirety of his flight but he’s awake for this, the trees passes before his eyes, he sees kids takings passes in the alleyways, restaurants and streets being lively and boisterous. He wonders if Sae saw the same things he did, what did he think of it then, what does he think of it now. He supposes that soon enough, he will have his answer.

Ryuusei must’ve had a pretty dazed look on his face because his driver catches his eye in the rear-view mirror and asks with a semi friendly tone, “So, why are you here? Moving permanently? Visiting the area?”

The blonde blinks at him, his subpar English skills not making up for regular governmental English, even less English with a thick Spanish accent.—all he really knows how to say are the cool sounding one liners like get lost or kiss me or fantastic baby. The type of stuff he hears from the foreign music he listens to.— 

The drivers continues, mostly talking to himself at this point, “You tourists always come for weddings though, is it yours and your lover? Or were you invited to one?”

The man seems to be speaking faster and faster and all Ryuusei is able to catch from that is you and lover, so he can safely assume that— “Yes, I see lover, today,” The striker confidently answers, his English sounding broken even to his own ears but after that, the driver politely nods and doesn’t say anything else.

They make it to Sae’s apartment building in an hour and Ryuusei throws one of the flimsy orange bills that Reo left him with at the driver. The man sputters, “It’s thirty three euros sir, this is sixty! Too much!”

Too much. That’s all Ryuusei understood from that—he doesn’t know how to count in English, the number are too damn convoluted—and he shrugs at the frazzled man, behaving as if he is without a care in the world, “Keep it.”

He rushes to get out of the car, rough around the edges with exhilaration as he tears his suitcase out of the car’s trunk and heads towards the apartment complex.

The luxurious and imposing property stands tall, glistening in the noon sun, its coat of beige seems freshly applied and each window has its own balcony and decorative plants. Ryuusei knows that the apartment the midfielder resides it is the last one, all alone at the top. It’s a beautiful penthouse, thoughtfully decorated by famous interior designers and equipped with the largest balcony with a heated pool at the center.

Ryuusei steps into the large entrance hall with a hand in his pocket of his loose sweatpants and the other gripping his luggage. He climbs the marbled stairs, feeling the impending meeting between him and the genius. His heart is pounding inside his chest, as if trying to pound his way out. For each steps closer to the penthouse, Ryuusei’s smirk grows bigger and his anticipation sparkles brighter in his eyes.

Soon enough he’s faced with a mahogany entryway with polished hand-carved motifs that exudes wealthy elegance. Ryuusei is definitely at the right place.

He stops short and wills his heart to seize its attempts at taking its own life. With a deep gulp of air, he raises his closed hand to the door, granting powerfully bangs on the piece of wood.

Ryuusei knocks relentlessly, his knuckles beginning the bruise due to the force of it.

Suddenly, the door is flung open and standing in front of him for the first time in months is Itoshi Sae. His teal eyes, puffy and red-rimmed, widen at the sight of the striker on his doorstep. His mouth, already parted open—getting ready to bring hell down on the poor soul who thought it would be smart to bang on his door when the doorbell was right there—didn’t let out a single sound, almost as if the words dried up on his tongue.

Ryuusei probably looks just a stupid as him as he takes Sae in fully, his fist still raised. He’s dressed in a plain grey long sleeve shirt that covers his knuckles and hugs his waist and tight fitting Calvin Klein black shorts. The pinkette has his bangs down, although it seems like he’s due for a haircut because they’re longer than the last time Ryuusei saw them. They hang over his eyelashes and the locks at the sides of his face almost reach his chin. His hair is as tussled as ever, if not more curled in every direction. His cheeks are flushed a gorgeous pink but that’s not new.

Ryuusei as always, is just struck by his effortless beauty.

“Demon?” Sae finally spurts out, breaking their silent assessments of each other. The shock doesn’t seem to have worn off, perhaps it’s just now settling in because the genius sounds dumbfounded. He looks it too. “What are you—“ 

Ryuusei doesn’t give him a chance to ask his question, He steps into the threshold, enclosing on a stunned Sae’s personal space. He gently holds his face and cuts him off with a fervent kiss. His thumbs caresses the side of the midfielder’s face as he slots their lips together. Sae’s lips are soft and pulpous and—

They fit together perfectly.

Sae is the first to allow his eyes to fall shut and Ryuusei witnesses it with wonder. The genius’s eyelids drawing to, letting his eyelashes tickle his cheekbones as he remains perfectly still against the impromptu kiss.

Ryuusei is ravenous.

He forces himself in, closing the door behind him with a kick of his leg. The blonde presses against the shorter boy, hoping to split their lips open and taste the metallic twang of their blood mixed together. He slides his hands down Sae’s face, reveling in the shivers that erupt on him from the action, to grasp at his slutty hips and manhandles him against the closest wall, their kiss growing more ferocious as they try to suffocate each other. They barely come up for air, just pressing their lips and chests together, Sae’s hands palming the striker’s chest while Ryuusei is toying with the exposed skin of his ridden up shirt.

Sae lets himself be kissed for a minute before shoving his hand in Ryuusei’s mane, pulling him back from his face by the roots. The blonde pants, a deep blush spread from his neck to his face but also an unapologetic shit eating grin on his numb lips. “How—why are you here?”

“Happy birthday beautiful,” Ryuusei says and then leans in, trying to go back in for another bruising kiss but Sae clicks his tongue and tugs on his hair once more, pulling him back. The pain zaps through him like an electric shock before settling low in his stomach. He almost lets out a moan.

“Really? You think I’m an idiot?” Sae scolds, his nose scrunching up in disdain. It’s hard to focus on his questions when the tip of his ears are pink and his lips are red and bitten raw. It’s especially difficult because this is something he was depraved of for months and Itoshi Sae is so damn tantalizing.

Ryuusei dives in his exposed neck, planting kisses along the line of his throat and under his jaw. He knows he’s not allowed to kiss the pinkette on the mouth but surely anywhere else is okay. But, after the first nibble of Sae’s neck, Ryuusei founds himself tugged away from him again so, that’s a no then. He sighs, mindlessly stroking Sae’s hipbones with his thumbs, “I don’t know, you’re the genius, why do you think I’m here?”

The midfielder holds no responses, looking vacantly in Ryuusei’s eyes like he could decipher in them lies that don’t exist.

“You really took a ten hour flight just to come see me for my birthday.” He realizes, stunned all over again. His grip on his Ryuusei’s hair falters and his lips fall open and the demon dives in there like a starved animal. He slips his tongue inside Sae’s mouth, tasting his morning earl grey tea and his mint toothpaste and just Sae. His hands travel to Sae’s backside, hauling him higher on the wall and he has no choice but to wrap his strong thighs over Ryuusei hips, his feet’s locking behind his back. The blonde squeezes his ass and bites down his lip and Sae places both of his hands in hair and tugs him impossible closer, pulling harshly at the strands. And, they kiss and kiss and kiss.

Eventually they pull up for air, “I really fucking missed you.” Ryuusei echoes his previous statement, just in time to see how it has Sae fight down a faint blush as he presses his lips together.

“What? My sweaty towel didn’t do it for you anymore?” Sae huffs, cocking an eyebrow.

“Of course you know.” The blonde cackles in response, hopelessly fond. “And yes, it lost all its scent after a week, I’ve been starved—“ He confesses as he lunges into the crook of Sae neck, breathing deeply at the scent concentrated there. As always, the genius smells amazing, he switched his usual perfume for something creamy and deep and more alike his natural odor, sandalwood. It’s even better than what the demon had dreamed about.  It smells so right, so good. He pushes the hot line of his cock into Sae’s thigh, hissing and arching into the feeling.

Sae gasps, shoving at his head. The blonde goes easy, “Of course, I knew you idiot, I was in your room remember? It was right next to your bed—“

“Yes, I fucking remember, I’ve thought  about that day so many times, the memory is etched behind my eyelids lashes,”

The words hang between them heavy, the two boys blinking at each other.

Then, “Let me down.” Sae commands and Ryuusei obliges—not before getting one last squeeze of those perky cheeks—without a question. The pinkette quietly snatches him by the wrist and heaves him to the next room, it’s a sophisticated modern living room with high ceilings and a giant flat screen. He pushes Ryuusei towards the couch, towering over him and says in that same domineering tone, “Take off your pants.”

There’s an eager gleam in Ryuusei’s eyes as he complies, slipping out of his loose grey sweatpants—who previously did a great job at covering his half chub from sight—, he falls on the soft couch just in time to watch Sae sinking to his knees, slipping further down his body while holding eye contact. His eyes don’t give away his intentions but the steady stiffening inside his tight shorts recounts otherwise.

“Just giving you new material.” He says once he reaches the ground, sensual gaze flicking up. His hand plucks at the striker’s briefs, slapping the waistband against his skin and Ryuusei sighs against himself, enjoying the ruthless teasing.

Sae plucks at his underwear again, this time allowing his cock to spring free, and it bounces hard and dripping in front of him. Ryuusei brings a hand to stroke at his length, shamelessly admiring the sight of Sae right in between his legs, and wonders what the boy would do if he just jerked off right on his cute button nose. He brushes the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip with desire, getting two full strokes, his knuckles bumping into the boy’s face before getting hit on the hand. He snatches his hand away, now sticky with precum, pain blooming on the top of it.

“You’re a sadistic fuck, you know that,” The blonde playfully accuses him with a wicked grin, rubbing circles on his bruised hand.

His cock is still hanging heavy and dirty in between them. As a reply, Sae wets his palm with spit in and encloses his fist on the length before him. Ryuusei involuntarily thrusts into the touch, biting down a deep groan, having forgotten what it’s like being touched by Sae deft fingers.

Sae gives him one long stroke, from root to tip, still holding eye contact then brings his pretty mouth to his cock. He gives a wet sloppy kiss, while the visual is insanely hot, the feeling is like lightning striking his body, “…hgn!” Ryuusei jumps, leaking profusely as his fingers twitch uselessly by his side.

His cock catches on Sae’s lip and some of his spit seeps on it and the pinkette frowns, bringing his hand down on the inner part of Ryuusei’s thigh, a warning to not move.

He pulls off, gracefully tucking a hair strand behind his ear before licking a stripe up the underside of his cock from root to tip, “Don’t—gh!” The blonde whines when he pulls off again, leaving Ryuusei trembling.

“Your dick is pretty big I’ll give you that.”Sae observes, shifting his hand once again up and down the length and the striker’s cock bumps against his wrist at each stroke, proving his point. “You could use to eat more fruits though jackass,”

“Didn’t hear…those complaints when— ah!—I railed you last time,” Ryuusei pants, his voice straining with restraint. Another rough slap on his thigh, the skin quickly reddening. “Mmh!—fuck, do that again,”

“Don’t move. And, don’t grab my hair.” Is Sae’s warning as he opens up his mouth and goes down on his cock. The blonde’s breath catches. The inside of Sae’s mouth is warm and soft, and he’s not prepared for when the pinkette starts bobbing his head, dragging his length along the flat of his tongue with precision.

“Oh! Oh fuck—Sae,” Ryuusei hisses, digging his nails into the leather couch to avoid thrusting into the warmth offered by Sae’s mouth. The genius hums around his cock, the sound creating perfect vibrations that travels along the length of his dick and Ryuusei whimpers, throwing his head back.

Sae has only taken him halfway, swirling his tongue around the head on the upstroke, catching against the sticky pre there and dipping into the slit. He does this for a while, the only noise heard being the slurping and squelch of Sae’s mouth around his cock and his own unrestrained moans.

Sae bobs his head fast, and it’s so fucking good, he’s pretty sure he’s trembling all over, the boy licks a stripe up on the more sensitive part of his dick and Ryuusei fucks upward once, and—it’s heavenly,”shitshit, ngh! Sorry—more,”

Sae pulls off and Ryuusei looks down to apologize further when he’s taken aback by the sight a flushed Sae, his mouth slicked with pre—his pre, all over Sae’s plump lips—making them glossy and puffy, there’s some spit in the corners of his mouth too and just the sight of him on his knees, it’s enough to last him a lifetime. “Don’t take your eyes off me.” He says, and Ryuusei realizes that he did have his eyes closed the whole time.

He goes back down and this time Ryuusei fixes the way his cock slips in between those lips as Sae goes down and down and he doesn’t stop at where he’s been, he goes lower until he’s got Ryuusei perfectly down his throat. Strands of hair tumbles over his face and Ryuusei mechanically goes to tuck them behind his ears, the midfielder looks up through his long eyelashes and sucks. “How are you—shit! So goo—oh! Fuck!— so good at this ,Sae-chan,” the genius’s eyes are filling up with tears, yet they remain as cold as ice, impassive as he hollows out his cheeks.

He moves up again and slam his throat down Ryuusei cock once, twice and the blonde is coming with a silent scream. His cock is shooting ropes down Sae’s throat and it’s like it’s trying to squeeze more out of his balls the way it’s so, and Sae is, is—

“Ah!— fuck, mmh!, you feel so—“ he cries as Sae doesn’t let up, continuing to fuck his throat on Ryuusei’s cock until he’s been drained. He slips off, swallowing down the come without any issues. He wipes what oozed out by the side of his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I didn’t move.” Ryuusei notes breathless, his legs like jello. Sae raises a brow. “I really, really wanted to. Your throat is godsent.”

“You want me to call you a good boy or something?” Sae mutters, his voice shot. And how fucking hot is it that it’s because he just throat fucked himself on Ryuusei?

Ryuusei moans, tilting his head back, “I would actually fucking love that,”

He suddenly gets a lapful of soccer genius, his thighs spread on each side of Ryuusei’s lap and he would be lying if he said that even the most innocent touch like this one doesn’t leave him hard and aching.

“Open your mouth.” Sae commands and Ryuusei lets jaw drop open instantly. Two fingers are shoved down his throat, he chokes, and he can taste his own come on these fingers and Sae has gone back to sitting on his cock—which, he’s now discovered about himself, really gets him going— and this is the best day of his life.

“Good boy.” Sae coos, tone dripping with sarcasm but Ryuusei is pretty sure he just came a little at that. He groans against the fingers, his hands flying to grapple at Sae’s hips only to get another slap on his thigh as a reprimand. It burns in the best way possible.

When he feels like his fingers are sufficiently wet, Sae takes them out of the tanned boy’s mouth and slips them in his shorts. Massaging his rim, the sole finger that entered causing him to gasp, he arches his back, his chest pressed flush against Ryuusei’s and the blonde can feel his perked nipples through the long sleeve.

He licks his lips, undressing Sae with his eyes, “How do you manage to always wear the sluttiest things all the time?”

“You’re a pig that’s why you find stretched out pajamas sexy,” Sqe bites his tongue as he slides in another finger, continuing their thrusting motions.

“Being a pig is torture.” Ryuusei drawls, his eyes fixated on Sae’s movements behind his back. Next time, he’ll beg Sae to let him finger him instead.

“I’ll admit—ah!—the other outfits were on purpose.” He retorts, inserting a third finger, Ryuusei has all but checked out of the conversation.

He takes out his fingers and goes to rub Ryuusei’s cock and bring it full hardness once again and startled by how hard it already is, the head almost turning purple. The genius deadpans, “Really?”

“Sae, my condoms are in my bag.” Ryuusei discloses gravelly, ignoring his previous question.

“We’ll do without,” Sae concludes without thinking, slipping out of shorts. “Unless you are riddled with STDs.”

“I’m not!” Even with sayaka—whose he’s only done it with once, Ryuusei wore a condom. He wanted his first time without to be with Sae too, although he did lose hope that he would ever see him again for a while there.

The pinkette holds his dick still in his hand, and takes it inches by inches and when he’s finally all the way in, bottomed out, Sae has gone suspiciously quiet. His face is screwed up, probably trying to adjust to Ryuusei’s size but not wanting to slip up and comment on it like last time. Ryuusei takes the opportunity and strikes a hand down his left buttcheek, biting down hard on his bottom lip at how tight Sae got just then as he seized up. Being inside the pinkette without a condom makes every little movement heightened and so so good, “Mmgh!—you’re squeezing me so tight. Not so dom with a cock up your ass huh?"

Sae narrows his eyes and doesn’t hesitate to snap his palm across Ryuusei’s face, the other boy gasping bucking up into the tight heat. “Shit! Do—ngh! Again—Pleaseplease,“

Sae clasps his hand on the blabbering mouth, his face now screwed up in disgust. Ryuusei’s eyes roll all the way to the back of his skull at the repulsion swimming in Sae’s eyes.

Heat spreads through Ryuusei’s body as Sae plants his feet on the couch, starting to bounce. He fucks himself on every inch of Ryuusei’s cock and every time the blonde tries to meet Sae’s hips, he gets another slap to the face, both side of his face burning. His legs are going numb and all his guttural growl and breaths are being silenced by the hand on his face. His eyes are filling up with tears and yet he’s smiling like a maniac against Sae’s palm.

“I—ah!, of course you’re enjoying—ngh.. this.” The midfielder breathes heavily, growing tired of his relentless bounces, the sound of his punishing pace, wet and filthy in their ears. He lets go of the striker’s face, his hand slipping, “I think—ah..about that day all the time too,” Sae admits and he can feel the rhythmic pulse of the striker’s cock inside of him, growing impossibly bigger.

“Can I touch you?” Ryuusei asks, his hands hovering over the tempting naked hips.

“Make me come, demon.” At that, Ryuusei thrusts up with a purpose, establishing a bruising grip on his lover’s waist. The pinkette scrambles to smash their mouths together, messily breathing into each other mouths as he bounces and Ryuusei fucks into him. They move in tandem, the couch squeaking painfully under them and the clapping increasing in volume. The harmonic mix of Sae’s involuntary mewls and Ryuusei’s loud grunts adding to the cacophony.

Ryuusei targets Sae’s bundle of pleasure, hitting it dead on and the shorter boy tears his lips away from the striker’s, throwing his head back in a loud ah! at a particular brush against his prostate. He grounds his hips, letting out barely audible mewls as he exposes the long line of his throat.

Ryuusei latches into it, sucking hard until purple and red blossomed all over the midfielder’s neck, “No—gngh! Ma—ah! ah!— marks,” He weakly pushes at Ryuusei head to no effect, unable to make him move.

Ryuusei glowers at that, picking up the pace. He hardens his grip on Sae’s hips, lifting him up and shoving him down with force into his cock, directly hitting his spot. The midfielder screams, his eyes flying open, “I’m yours. I’ll mark you however I want,” Ryuusei growls, biting down in a higher spot on his neck as he drives home again and again.

Sae is the first to let go, his nails digging into the striker’s back to the point of breaking skin as he  shoots off in between them, “Aagh! Harder—,” He gasps, arching his back in a perfect bow.

Ryuusei nods, a wild grin on his face. He stands up, taking a limp Sae with him, as he changes position. He throws him on his back and drives feverishly into him, hips rolling fast. He can feel himself getting close, as he moves his hands everywhere he can, he squeezes at Sae’s tits, toys with his nipples and he tightens like a vice. “How are, f-fuck, you still so tight—“ He grunts, leaning down to lick greedily at the tears falling from Sae’s eyes.

“Oh—oh! I think, I think I’m going to come again, Ryuusei—“ Sae shouts, his voice sweet when he’s fucked into being completely honest. Ryuusei beats him to it, releasing deep inside the midfielder. Grinding continuously into that clenched sloppy hole through his gritted teeth. Sae follows right after, with a couple of breathy moans as his body seizes under him.

They pant together in silence, Sae not being able to move at all, feeling as if he’s been run by a train and Ryuusei feeling like his legs have lost all sensation. He collapses into the genius arms, making sure he slipped out before passing out.

When Ryuusei comes to, it’s to Sae sleeping figure. He looks so serene and quiet, it makes him want to trail kisses down his face. He admires the hickeys all over his torso and neck with a proud grin, this gorgeous boy. Like nothing Ryuusei has ever seen before. The genius’s stomach emits a growl in his slumber and Ryuusei takes that as his cue to order them some food—because he has little to no cooking skills—. The woman on the phone has an English that’s a little better to understand than his taxi driver therefore ordering a plates of fries, chicken and some vegetables is relatively easier.

By the time Sae emerges from his sleep, he looks disoriented, a little surprised at how easily he passed out. The blonde is seated next to him and the midfielder’s feet are in his lap. The television has been turned on and is broadcasting Sae’s own soccer matches from practice—that he was analyzing the night before—and that surprises him too. Ryuusei looks at him from the corner of his eye, amused. Did he not think Ryuusei would snoop while he was asleep or did he think this was just a dream?

Either way, he sits upright and takes his legs back from the striker’s hold. “What are you doing?”

“So, this is what you been up to huh?” Ryuusei teases, facing the pinkette, ”No wonder coach was so secretive about it, you’re in some sort of super soldier program for soccer players,” He comments, referring to the intricate plays being made by the genius on the large screen.

Sae hums, blinking groggily at the television. Seems he’s much more pliant after getting fucked within an inch of his  life, good to know. “It’s not, it’s a youth program for prestigious soccer players, you demon,”

“Shit, they should all go home then since you’re the most prestigious there is,” Ryuusei states, like it’s a fact, leaning into the couch with his legs spread apart like he belongs here.

Something about the picture has Sae looking away before revealing, “I actually got scouted when I was thirteen.”

Ryuusei jumps, snapping his neck towards the midfielder, “Why didn’t you go then? That’s fucking great,”

“If I went then, I would’ve never came back. It’s Rin who convinced my parents to talk to the recruiters into enrolling me when I turn eighteen.” He says, speaking of the story without any resentment nor appreciation. Just telling it like it is.

Ryuusei is about to retort something when he jumps to his feet, remembering.

Right, Rin.

“Shit, speaking of,” He rushes to his bag, pulling out the badly wrapped gift from the side of it. He walks up to the curious genius and hands it to him, “He got this for you. Told me to wish you an happy birthday from your little brother who loves you very much,” Ryuusei lays it on thick, pushing the gift towards Sae, encouraging him to take it.

Sae winces, taken aback. His hand freezes in the air when he’s about to lay hold of it, “He said that?”

“Well, not exactly but the feeling is there isn’t it?” The blonde slides the present onto his lap, since he seems adamant on not taking it from him, as if it isn’t literally his birthday present. “This is yours, from him.”

Sae frowns a little, looking down at the box like it’s personally offended him—Ryuusei feels like the box offended him. Did the younger Itoshi wrap it with two left hands?—He tugs on the ribbon and the gifts falls apart, revealing the cylindrical box. Sae looks up quizzically at him, raising a perfectly bushy eyebrow and Ryuusei shrugs, just as clueless.

When the midfielder finally opens the box, what’s comes out of it is a mug. It’s pretty simple, a blue sky with three seagull flying into the horizon on them. It has Sae letting out a little laugh, barely audible and involuntary but the striker heard it nonetheless.

Ryuusei is mesmerized. “Favorite animal?”

“Yeah,” Sae speaks softly, admiring the mug from different angles. “It’s also my favorite mug. Rin broke it when we were eleven.”

Sae turns the cup upside down and in the bottom is written birds of a feather flock together and the pinkette smiles, a small and fragile thing, “Guess he found it again.”

Ryuusei says nothing, not wanting to snap Sae out of his pleased trance. The genius pulls himself up, entering his spacious kitchen. He turns on the faucet, cleaning the glass with careful movements. Then, he sets it down visible on the dinner table mutters to himself decidedly, “I’ll take my tea with it.”

He turns back to Ryuusei. And the blonde bathes in the grateful look in his eyes. Before he can open his mouth, perhaps suggest that Sae calls his younger brother to thank him for the admittedly thoughtful gift, the doorbell rings. The midfielder rolls his eyes towards the ceiling but Ryuusei beats him to it, taking long strides towards the door.

When he comes back to the kitchen, it’s with greasy brown bags of goods.

Sae raises a condescending brow, “Really, fries with chicken?”

“Why not? You love fries!” The tanned boy throws the bag on the dining table, automatically fetching plates to serve the food in.

“That’s not what matters, it’s bad for an athlete health.” Sae cocks his hands on his hips, exasperated. With the food swimming in oil sat on his table but also Ryuusei’s blatant comfort in moving around his own apartment.

He pulls up two pure white plates, the midfielder’s stainless steel ustensiles and throws himself on a chair, “Yeah well, I’m sure it’s written somewhere that athletes on their birthday shouldn’t bend down to dumb rules,” Ryuusei mocks, tearing the back open and filling the plates with the delectable crispy cuisine.

“You’re the one who’s missing a few braincells,” Sae barks but still sits down in front of him and eats at the fries bit by bit.

By how he doesn’t complain once again at during their dinner, and how he stuffs his face wordlessly, Ryuusei can tell he actually thinks its delicious.

Cute.

They eat the takeout while Ryuusei talks about his flight and everything he had to do to make it happen. Two days worth of keeping secrets spilling out, all Sae has to say in response is that he could’ve just told him, he just wouldn’t have believed him and that makes Ryuusei let out a belly laugh, barely managing to swallow his food. The pinkette calls him out on how disgusting that is many times but he also has the ghost of a smile on his lips. They enjoy dinner with lively conversation—mostly Ryuusei’s chattering on and on— and continue to do so even while washing the dishes.—even when Sae scolds him for holding him from behind and squeezing his pecs through his shirt.—

Afterwards, Ryuusei brings out the cake, a lemon delicacy—that Ryuusei ordered just a little after eating their food—, the candles one and nine placed clumsily on top of it. He puts it down in the middle of the table and rushes Sae to sit in front of it.

“You got a monstrosity full of calories too? You shouldn’t have.” The pinkette sarcastically proclaims, his elbows resting on the table. The lights from the candles bringing a warm glow to his blank stare.

“Cmon, make a wish cutie,” The blonde urges, his smile big enough for the two boys. In this big kitchen in a foreign country, he’s never felt more at home.

“Alright, alright..” Ryuusei takes a deep breath, “Don’t sing the song.” Sae warns, leaving no space for argument. Ryuusei exhales.

Itoshi Sae blows out his candles on a birthday cake for the first time since he’s been twelve years old. Once they’re blown, he simply stares a the cake, a bit shocked at himself that he’s let all these events unfold.

When he looks up, Ryuusei is staring at him expectant, his eyes darting between the candles and the genius. If there’s one thing the striker wants to know more than anything it’s what this apathetic pretty boy could have possibly wish for.

“Like I’d tell you.”

“You little shit.”

Unfortunately, Sae only takes one bite out of his birthday cake under the argument that he’s had enough guilty pleasures for one day. Ryuusei vow himself to have him eat a whole slide of it before he has to return to Japan. 

He brings out his own present a little later when they’ve packed up all the food and stored it. This time, he takes a hold of Sae’s hand himself, placing his present in his palm before the genius can hesitate to accept it. It’s small, just a tiny pink box with a little white bow.

Sae observes it, and Ryuusei watches him with a careful eye, wary of his reaction, “Oh,” it’s a sleek dainty black necklace.

“Look what’s written underneath.”

“I wanna play with you forever,” Sae spells out, turning the necklace around with the tip of his index. The writing is discrete, in real gold letters. Ryuusei used all the money he had saved up with his little jobs to afford this present. But, Sae doesn’t really have to know about that. The pinkette looks up, his face blank but his ears, ever the snitches, always telling when he’s flustered. “That so?”

Ryuusei smiles, bouncing on his heels vividly, “Playing with you is pretty damn fun.” Is all he says, with a shrug of his shoulders.

He’s not as good as feigning indifference.

“Sounds like a proposal,” Sae remarks with a hum but slips the necklace on regardless. He swipes his hair back and gracefully lets its hang from his neck. Its value speaks for itself, it’s elegant, refined and simple in the most complicated way.

That jewelry shopkeeper was right—he did make a good choice.

When Ryuusei laughs, it’s with a sated and full heart.

                     #

The next day ends up being spent scouring the streets of Madrid—My treat Sae said when he woke the striker up in the morning. He didn’t elaborate further. He was wearing the necklace.— they stop at every high luxury fashion boutique that Ryuusei expresses interest in and he drags the genius through fancy restaurants. The sky is parted and they walk the streets, unbothered even when accosted by reporters—that Sae is quick to send away with a scalding remarks in rapid fire Spanish.

By late afternoon, Ryuusei has managed to haul him and the midfielder all over town until he stops on the beach. A group of pre-teens are playing soccer barefoot in the sand and the blonde looks at Sae wordlessly, his desire evident on his face.

They end up with those kids all afternoon, shooting passes and running after the ball and it’s euphoric.

“It’s not even my birthday anymore, I don’t know why you’re doing this,” Sae tells him when they’re both seated on the ground, tired from the exercise. He’s gently panting, obviously used to more strain when he practices but he’s clearly—

Pleased. He looks content, the way you do after a good match. There’s no smile to show it but Ryuusei has sneaking suspicion that he is. Even if what they did barely counts as playing soccer, there’s a childish joy that gets brought out every time Sae gets to chase after a ball.

“Fuck you mean, yes it is.” Ryuusei contests with a groan, he’s draped in the sand, the little grains sticking to his skin. He’s more tired than the genius, having given it his all to impress the young Spanish kids that thought him and Sae were just so cool.

The midfielder scoffs, tossing sand in his direction, “It’s the next day. Forgot about the passage of time?”

“There’s an eight hour difference between Japan and Spain Sae-chan,” He reminds, raising up eight fingers. “As far as I know, it is still your birthday. You know?”

Ryuusei looks at the magenta haired boy, the sun hitting the side of his face as he awaits the end of his sentence. Ryuusei licks his lips, and whispers, “Home.”

“Home huh?” Sae repeats while the sun goes down, they stay quiet after that. Sae slumps over his bent knees, resting his forehead on his arms as he lets the beautiful sunset unfolds before him. He’s deep in thought but Ryuusei doesn’t prod, just watches him.

At the end of that day, they’re both standing in Sae’s kitchen—the genius ordered a mandatory shower for the both of them the minute they got back from the beach and his hair is still wet because of it, his choppy bangs sticking to his forehead. Impossibly adorable.—When Ryuusei says, “Date me.”

“What?”

“What do I do to get you to be mine?”

Ryuusei peers at him intensely over their plate of pasta carbonara and Sae looks away for the first time, feeling as if those pink eyes are attempting to pierce his soul.

He coughs, unsure. “What are you willing to sacrifice?” Sae demands and the reason for why Sae is asking instead of telling, Instead of putting these absurd conditions that Ryuusei will need to fulfill to please him, is because—

It’s because he must want to say yes right?

“I’m ready to do about anything, lashes. ‘Cause I want you.” Ryuusei hangs his head in his bent wrist, a telling smile on his lips. He’s never been terrified of intimacy, and he knows that no matter what he thinks of himself, he isn’t incapable of it either, “Cmon…you know you want to,”

Sae bites his bottom lip, gaze hardening, he’s conjuring up an excuse, a task, a way for the demon to earn this. But he’s falling flat, and his distress is apparent. Give him a few seconds more and he’ll probably spurs out wounding words just to push him away.

“Say what,” Ryuusei steps in, getting up from his chair. He rounds the table to the genius’s side, propping himself against the edge of the dining table, spurred on by his ruffled face, “What if you just, give me this one? I’ll repay my debt later.”

“That’s awfully greedy,“ Sae notes, robotically bringing a forkful of pasta to his mouth. He swallows it down lazily, using the time taken to eat it to think this over. When he’s done, Sae stands up too, raising himself to Ryuusei level, now inches away from his smug face.

His hand clamps around the nape of striker’s neck, doing little jerks of the hair nestled there. Sae’s thumb presses into Ryuusei’s jawline, bridging the gap between them until there was no space left.

Ryuusei smiles into the lips.