Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.
~ Something Stupid ~
Kirihara must have been out of his mind. Why else would he be trekking across campus at three in the morning to sneak into Hiyoshi's room?
Kirihara didn't remember when Hiyoshi gave him the key to the dorm, but he had it, so Hiyoshi must have given it to him at one point or another. Or he stole it. Either way, Kirihara had a key, and he'd be damned if he didn't use it. He needed a place to stay, and Hiyoshi's dorm seemed like a good place – safe, Hiyoshi-included, warm, gas bomb free…
Niou had decided to make a surprise visit to Kirihara's dorm, leaving the place in ruins. Why they let Niou become a chemistry major was a mystery to Kirihara.
Kirihara put the key into the front door of Hiyoshi's dorm, a triumphant smile crossing his face when the lock clicked. He felt like such a bad ass, sneaking into a dorm on with possibly-stolen key. Move over James Bond; hellooo, Kirihara Akaya.
Kirihara jogged up the stairs, acting as though he belonged in the dorm, which he didn't. He did go to the university, which was close enough in his mind. The university owned the dorms, so he had the right to be there, even if he didn't. (His logic was slightly flawed.) His head felt funny – did he breathe in that blue gas from Niou's bomb?
Kirihara scanned the floors, ignoring the burn in his legs. Maybe skipping a few of his laps was starting to take effect. Or maybe he shouldn't have had that second Big Mac. Probably the Big Mac.
"384, 384," he chanted under his breath, looking at the door numbers. "Ah-ha!"
Kirihara pulled another key out of his pocket, sticking it into Hiyoshi's door knob. Kirihara wasn't sure how he got that key either.
He opened the door as quietly as possible. He tip-toed into the dark room, gently closing the door behind him. He tried to cross the room to the bed, where Hiyoshi is asleep like a rock, without breaking his neck, which was rather difficult because Hiyoshi's room was filthy.
Clothes. Tennis balls. Controllers. Was that sword? Good God.
Hiyoshi slept through all of Kirihara's mumbled swears and near-neck-breaking-almost-trips. Or maybe Hiyoshi was pretending. Again, Kirihara wasn't sure – he definitely breathed in that blue gas.
Finally, Kirihara stumbled to the bed that's pushed into the corner. Thankful that Hiyoshi was practically hugging the wall, Kirihara sat on the edge. The bed was narrow and Kirihara was barely able to lie down without hitting Hiyoshi. Kirihara decided that Hiyoshi was in dream land.
So Kirihara poked him in the shoulder. Hard.
Hiyoshi jerked away, hands immediately forming some stupid looking karate-ninja-type move.
"What the –"
"Watch it!"
"Kirihara?"
"Who else would it be? A fairy?" Kirihara asked. He decided seconds later that being a sarcastic ass to the person he was sneaking into bed with was probably a bad thing, but he couldn't care less.
"That doesn't explain why you're in my bed at –" Hiyoshi looked at the clock on the nightstand " – three in the morning!"
Kirihara sat up, barely able to make out Hiyoshi's silhouette in the dark. "My dorm got evacuated because of Niou."
"What are you doing here?" Hiyoshi wanted so badly to shove Kirihara out of bed and tell him to run for his life. Hiyoshi knew he had a sword in his room… somewhere.
"Trying to sleep!" Kirihara snapped. He felt blood rush to his face.
Okay. So maybe it was a spur of the moment idea and not all that well thought through. The bed was small, barely big enough for one athletic university student, let alone two who did not want to touch because that'd be really weird. Not that somehow remembering you have a key to your ex-enemy's dorm and room isn't weird…
Hiyoshi narrowed his eyes in the darkness, trying to make out the expression on Kirihara's face. It was too dark to see anything. Hiyoshi sighed. "What did Niou do?"
"Does it matter?"
"It affects my sympathy level, which determines whether you stay or sleep with Sanada."
Kirihara cringed at the thought, and then said, "He set of some gas bomb. It was blue and Niou looked a little worried, so the poison control thing was called in."
Kirihara felt Hiyoshi's eyes burn a hole through his skull. After what felt like an eternity (even though it was only thirty-seven seconds), Hiyoshi sighed again. "Are you okay?"
Kirihara shrugged. "I guess. My head feels weird."
"You should see a doctor."
"It's three in the morning. Blue gas or not, I'd be tired. Tired equals hurt head, dummy."
Hiyoshi sighed a third time. "Fine, stay; just don't hit me with your bony knees."
They lied down, back to back. Their knees were bent, and their butts touched, and it was awkward and weird and shitty. Kirihara wanted to die. Hiyoshi wanted to die, come back to life, and then die again. It was that damn awkward.
Kirihara kept quiet, trying to keep his nose from making strange whistling noises when he breathed in. Hiyoshi was oddly warm, or maybe it was the blankets. There was too much going on in Kirihara's head to make out what was going on because Hiyoshi was close and they were touching and he liked it.
Hiyoshi wasn't sure if he liked it. It was Kirihara Akaya, the boy who broke his arm in a tennis match in high school. Any sane person would rather die than butt-touch with someone who broke their arm. But Hiyoshi was never really sane.
"You're hogging the blankets," Kirihara mumbled, tugging at the sheets. He pulled the thin fabric over his body and off Hiyoshi, holding it against his chest.
"The bed is meant for one person, stupid. Of course there aren't enough blankets!"
"I'm the guest. I get the blankets," Kirihara said in an end-of-story manner.
"Let's compromise then. I get the blankets, and you don't!"
"That's not a compromise, dumb ass!"
"Then what do you want to do, snuggle?"
It was meant to be a joke, but, at the same time, it wasn't. Kirihara stared into the darkness of Hiyoshi's room; he could hear his heart pounding in his head. Snuggle with Hiyoshi Wakashi? That was just insane. But…
Kirihara rolled onto his side, facing Hiyoshi. Hiyoshi's breath was hot and uneven against his face, they were that close, and it made Kirihara's stomach knot like a shoe lace.
There was a silence. One of the awkward ones that makes crickets want to chirp and makes it so that pins suddenly have enough mass to be heard when dropped.
"Would you –" Kirihara stopped, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth before continuing: "Would you kick me out, if I did something stupid?"
"How stupid?"
"This stupid."
Kirihara shifted in the bed. Their knees bumped when their lips met. It was awkward and Hiyoshi wasn't breathing, and Kirihara felt like he was going to die, but then Hiyoshi moved his lips in some way that made Kirihara's mind get even fuzzier.
Hiyoshi made a soft noise, and Kirihara figured he was breathing again, or at least he hoped so. The last thing he wanted was for Hiyoshi to pass out while they kissed. Though, it would be an interesting story.
Kirihara grinned into Hiyoshi's lips, rolling a bit more, until he was practically lying on top of Hiyoshi. Hiyoshi moved his hands to the small of Kirihara's back, opening his lips – oh. Hiyoshi felt his bones and his muscles turn to water. Lips should not be able to do that to a man. Hiyoshi forgot to breathe again.
Hiyoshi's hands shifted, and Kirihara tensed. Hiyoshi griped Kirihara's bony hips, drawing circles onto his skin. Kirihara gasped, ripping his lips away. "Stop! That – ah – tickles!"
"What tickles?" Hiyoshi flicked his thumbs over Kirihara's hips. "This?"
"Yes, you moron!" Kirihara jerked, rolling off of Hiyoshi, laughing as his back hit the cool mattress. He laughed until he was a pile of smiling, happy goo. Once he could breathe again, he asked: "So, was that stupid or what?"
"That was pretty damn stupid," Hiyoshi admitted. He paused. "Want to see me do something stupid?"
"How stupid?"
"Why don't you kiss me again and find out?"
Then they were kissing again, and it was weird and stupid and amazing.
Kirihara made a mental note to thank Niou.
A/N: Yup. I officially love writing this pairing.