Fushimi centered ficlet verging on drubble. I honestly don't know where it came from, aside from sheer boredom. It just did. Silly little ficlet, because accidental voyeurs are fun.
It's not that Saruhiko considered himself a virtuous person.
No one would ever call him virtuous. Even Misaki in the days when he still considered Saruhiko a friend and had the worst case of "loyalty and friendship forever" raging in his head.
Honestly speaking, he was probably as far from virtuous as one could get without getting himself a life sentence in some high security establishment; treachery, murder and debauchery being at the top of his scorecard.
So he might have called it a divine punishment, if he was so inclined. But, well, being able to produce fire with the flick of your fingers kind of disabused one of any religious beliefs however ingrained.
He could also say he was royally screwed, but then again given the situation, that was a little bit too ironic to be appropriate.
Though he was screwed.
Not at the moment, no.
At the moment the one being screwed was his boss.
But the second Munakata and the one who was currently nailing him into his own desk would gather their senses, Fushimi Saruhiko was a dead man.
Because once their heads were clear of the lustful haze, both would feel his presence. Because apparently his former king and his current one were lovers, or at last fuck buddies, and Fushimi being able to access both red and blue auras was as obvious for them as a lit lamp in the dark room.
He simultaneously wanted to laugh and hit his head on the table he was currently hiding under.
Laugh, because just imagining the look on Misaki's face if he ever found out that it was not Saruhiko who was the biggest traitor, but his precious king himself, made him giddy with vindictive glee.
Hit his head because he probably won't even have an opportunity to torture Misaki with even hints of those fascinating news.
Just his luck.