A/N: Hello, Eve here! Just pointing out that this story might be in need of some final tweaking! I was just so eager to upload it that I didn't feel like going through 16 pages of text one more time despite knowing that I'm probably not going to find all the errors anyway. However, may you still find the story enjoyable to read (hopefully enough to leave some positive feedback, because I'd truly appreciate it in these dire times indeed)!

So anyway, in honour of LGTB Pride month, I bring you my very first published *drumroll*... Vocaloid shounen ai piece! *magestic fanfare*


Akaito was well aware that he wasn't considered a very popular Vocaloid. But luckily, he didn't have a lot against it since he didn't necessarily like people. Besides, being popular seemed like a massive nuisance. It was so much work, long days of practicing, recording and preforming, just to be overshadow by the oh-so-fearsomely-famous Hatsune Miku by the end of it.

That's why Akaito convinced himself he was quite satisfied with only having to deliver a few covers once in a while and spend the rest of his time slacking off in his room. He didn't mind being a lone wolf, not one tiny bit.

Or at least, that's what he'd thought. But apparently there were other Vocaloids at the less popular end of the scale who thought that they should all "stick together", in that cheesy, chummy fashion that made Akaito want to gag and barf up his entrails. So he had thereby done everything he could to clarify to those other Vocaloids that he did NOT share the same opinion as them.

However, as it turned out, there was one particular individual who seemed determined to drag him into whether he wanted it or not. And that particular individual's name happened to be Hatsune Mikuo.

"You can't stay in bed all day! You've got to get outside once in a while! Get some sun on your skin, at the very least! You're already pale as a ghost!"

It was another of those days. Mikuo had, as usual, turned up announced at his house and started nagging at him before he'd even had the chance to rub the morning gravel out of his eyes. It didn't matter how much Akaito attempted to block him out – he wondered why God never thought of making lids for ears – because Mikuo always appeared to find a way of getting on his nerves. Simply ignoring him until he left had never worked before, and today was no different.

"Come on, get up already!" Mikuo exclaimed as he tore the comforter away so that Akaito wouldn't hole up underneath it. "Let's do something fun!"

His crimson eyes narrowing to slits, Akaito shot a piercing glare at the persistent intruder before him. While many others would've been intimidated by his ill-tempered visage, he had learned at this point that it was nowhere near enough to daunt Mikuo. Say what you would about him, but he definitely had guts.

"You realise that your idea of 'fun' is very different from mine, don't you?" the drowsy redhead growled, running a hand through his tangled coiffure.

"Honestly I'm not sure you know what the definition of fun is", Mikuo said, his hands resting on his surprisingly small, almost feminine hips. "All you ever do is lock yourself up in your room. Even your brothers say they barely see you."

"And since when did that become your problem?"

"Since I decided that it was. Now come on, get some clothes on already!"

After a few minutes of just lying there staring at him, Akaito finally conceded and rolled out of bed with a dreary groan. He exaggerated his yawns while he dressed himself as slowly as possible, but Mikuo was ever so patient (and ever so annoying) as he urged him on to get ready so that he wouldn't "let such a beautiful day go to waste", which was a phrase Akaito gladly rolled his eyes at.

They were out of the door ten minutes later. Akaito hadn't even been permitted a quick shower and had predetermined that he was little by little going to verge into one of his foulest of moods during the course of the day. That was, of course, unless he actually began to enjoy himself, but as if that was going to happen.

"So, what do you think we should do?" Mikuo asked as they meandered down the street, his gait a bit more nimble than what Akaito would've preferred.

"You haven't decided that yourself yet?" he muttered with a scowl. A panging headache had begun to take growth behind his right eye and he was already pining for the coaxing comfort of his king-sized bed.

"I have some suggestions, but I figured that you might get a say even though you're obviously going to complain about it anyway."

"Damn straight I am. I don't understand what the fucking point of this is."

Akaito flinched as Mikuo's palm struck the back of his head with enough force to make him stumble. He stopped dead and shot a vicious glower at the other boy, whom only glowered back at him with equal irritation in his gaze.

"Watch your language!" Mikuo barked, akin to a parent lecturing their child. "Look Akaito, I'm just trying to make an effort here. Believe or not but I'm not doing this to torture you. Would it really kill you to show some appreciation?"

Although he was keen to argue with Mikuo's point of view, Akaito was aware that it was likely to do nothing but worsen their squabble and refrained himself from it. Instead, he grimaced, swallowed his pride and sullenly shook his head.

"Good", Mikuo said and flashed a contented grin. "So, what do you want to do?"

"I don't know", Akaito whined. His head ached too much for him to think for himself. "Just go ahead and choose and I'll try to not bitch about it so much."

"'Kay, how about a movie?"

"Nah, I'll get bored and fall asleep."

"The amusement park?"

"Ugh, too many noisy brats."

"We could go to a café and have something to eat…"

"I'm not really hungry this early in the day."

There was now a vexed gloom hovering over Mikuo's face and he groaned in defeat. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"I know", Akaito responded sheepishly. "It's one of my finest qualities."

"I'd hardly agree with that", Mikuo snorted, despite breaking into a smile again. There was something about that feckless smile of his made it irresistible for Akaito not to reciprocate it, so he shot a shrewd grin back.

"Can't we just take a walk or something?" he suggested, as he suddenly felt a slight perk in his mood. "I mean, since the weather's so good, wouldn't it'd be a shame to sit cooped up inside some murky café or whatever?"

"That actually sound like a decent idea", Mikuo concurred, pleasantly surprised by Akaito's unexpected enthusiasm. "Shall we get going then?"

Still grinning, Akaito nodded and followed Mikuo's lead with no objections. He was actually starting to think that it might not be such a bad day to spend outside. After all, the weather was truly terrific, featuring bright blue skies, light summer breezes and just the right temperature in the air.

The two of them proceeded to wander aimlessly through the city, making small talk, joking, laughing and bickering amicably to and fro. It was comfortable, effortless, and yes, even enjoyable. But then Akaito began to wonder…

How come Mikuo was the only one he knew who'd go all of his way to chase him out of the house? Why was it that he remained so resolved in spite of Akaito's many rejections? Did he have a hidden motive? Was there something he wanted from Akaito? If so, what was it, and what would happen once he'd acquired it?

The multiple questions came to muddle his mind so badly he was forced to sit down on a bench. Mikuo assumed that he was dehydrated and rushed off to purchase some drinks from a nearby wending machine.

Meanwhile, Akaito scanned their surroundings and realised that they'd landed quite conveniently in a beautiful, well-tended park. It was a peaceful location that carried the fragrance of various flowers through its atmosphere, and Akaito reckoned that if he was to come clean about his concerns to Mikuo, there probably wasn't a better time or place.

Mikuo returned with one drink in each of his hands, humming the melody to "Melt" which Akaito found himself mildly amused by. He was to say the least relieved to see that Mikuo bought him an iced coffee, rather than something similar to the sickeningly sweet soda that he had himself. He accepted the drink with a nod and a "thanks", before Mikuo settled down on the bench as well.

They sat there a moment in silence, treasuring the opportunity to fully savour the environment while they sipped their chilled drinks. Akaito would've liked it to stay that way, but eventually he gathered his courage and prompted himself to bring up the qualms that had been galling in the back of his mind.

"Hey, Mikuo", he said, gulping hard in an attempt to dispose of the dry lump in his throat as Mikuo peered over at him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, what is it?" Mikuo answered, clearly oblivious of Akaito's anxious state. The redhead rolled the now empty can in his sweaty palms, failing to maintain eye contact with Mikuo as he braced himself for the next step.

"How come you keep doing this? You come to my house, barge into my room and nag at me until you manage to get me out. I complain, make a fuss about it and show as little gratefulness as I can. It can't be a lot of fun for you to deal with me, and I don't think it's likely that I'm going to change anytime soon. You must know that too, right? So… why do you keep coming back?"

"That's… uh… I…" From the corner of his eye, Akaito could see how Mikuo looked gobsmacked and almost aghast, but his expression tightened once he began to rummage through his head for a suitable reply. "That's just because I… I happen to like spending time with you. I r-really enjoy your company."

"Nonsense", Akaito chuckled sarcastically. "Nobody enjoys my company. I'm always in a bad mood and I frequently insult and tease others just to push their buttons. Who would want to be around a person like that?"

"Hmm… I don't think that's actually you, though."

Akaito lifted his gaze, his scarlet brows furrowed with curiosity and astonishment at Mikuo's statement. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, if you ask me, I think your behaviour is some sort of defence mechanism", Mikuo explained deliberately, pausing a few seconds as to arrange his thoughts before he continued. "The reason you might be acting so rude to people most of the time… could be because you're afraid that they won't like the real you."

Akaito clicked his tongue and twisted away, suppressing the instant urge to snarl something nasty in response. He wasn't fond of assumptions like these. A person who forged a tough appearance, but in reality desired social acceptance, was not how he wanted to be apprehended by anyone – especially not Mikuo.

As he ground his teeth with anger, Akaito made the decision turn back to Mikuo and was just about point out to him that he wasn't really some miserable, dishonest introvert, when he realised that Mikuo was smiling at him again. This smile, brimming with reassurance and tenderness, stupefied him and had him muted at once. He could no nothing but stare, stilled and breathless, as Mikuo reached out and gently stroked his cheek with the back of his hand.

"But I like the real you", he said with soft, comforting voice, his fingers brushing across Akaito's pallid skin like a soothing zephyr. "Sure you can have a temper and a coarse vocabulary sometimes, but even so you're not that bad of a person at all. I think if you just made a bit of an effort, others would realise that too, and you wouldn't have such a hard time making more friends."

Akaito's dumbfounded state persisted. What the heck? What was Mikuo going on about? Why was he so cloyingly kind all of a sudden? And why, why for the love of God, was it that it actually made him feel genuinely happy?

"Huh! I don't need more friends!" he scoffed and knocked Mikuo's hand away, sticking his chin in the air with his typical manner of arrogance. "People try way too hard to be liked! Sorry, but I don't plan on buttering up for anyone! Besides, you're plenty of a handful on your own, and obviously I don't need to 'make an effort' around you since you come back to pester me anyway."

"What's up with that tsundere act of yours? Did you get you just get embarrassed because I complimented you?" Mikuo teased, looking fairly entertained.

"I'm not embarrassed!" Akaito protested, cursing to himself as he felt his cheeks heating up. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, but you're blushing! You are embarrassed!"

"No, I'm not! Shut up!"

A smug smirk cracked upon Mikuo's lips and he playfully elbowed Akaito in the side. "Aw, come on… Don't be like that, Akai-kun~!"

Akaito's hands knitted into fists and he glared at his feet, his face glowing with humiliation. He couldn't figure out how Mikuo had gotten under his skin this easily. He shouldn't have allowed it to happen. But even though it was making him furious, he had a peculiar feeling that his rage wouldn't linger for long. It seemed that the heat from his anger and mortification was already dispersing, replaced by another type of warmth that he wasn't too familiar with.

"Hey… you're not mad for real, are you?" Mikuo wondered carefully, unsettled by Akaito's long-lasting silence. "I was just joking with you a little."

After a few seconds of hesitation, Akaito tore his gaze from his feet and glanced at Mikuo. As he couldn't spot a trace of ridicule on Mikuo's features, he released a heavy sigh and decided to lay his grudges to rest. It didn't even strike him as odd that he'd normally put up with more of a fight when it came to defending his pride. Weirdly enough, it just didn't seem that important today.

"No, I'm not really mad", he admitted. "But will you pipe down already? You're kind of messing up the whole atmosphere here. It's annoying."

"Whatever you say", Mikuo cooed happily and clapped his hands. "You know what? It's hot and I want an ice cream. Do you want one, Akaito?"

Akaito wrinkled his nose in disgust. "You know that I hate ice cream."

"Suit yourself then, but I have to have one. Let's go find some!"

With little to say that would stop him, Akaito tagged along as Mikuo bolted away in search for ice cream. Though, even on a warm day as this one, Akaito himself wouldn't be the slightest tempted by a taste of that gooey and icky so called "treat". How such an awful processed product could be categorised as delicious by anyone was beyond his understanding. Especially when it came to his moron of a brother, who consumed at least a ton of that gunk every day.

"Found one~!" Mikuo sang out as he caught sight of a small ice cream stand and sprinted off. He came waddling back a couple of minutes later, clutching onto a cone stuffed with two huge scoops of ice cream, which were already melting and dribbling down on his hand. The mere sight made Akaito cringe.

"Do you want to have a taste?" Mikuo offered as fast as he came near, toying with him, of course. "It's melon and green tea flavour. It's delicious!"

"No thank you. I really doubt that", Akaito declined flat out, his face contorting again as he watched Mikuo lick the top scoop and smear his tongue with that revolting, artificially coloured, green cream. Oh, wait a second…"Hold on, don't tell me you picked those flavours just because they're green?"

Mikuo stagnated and pursed his lips. "So what if I did?"

"Haha, I knew it. You're such a child", Akaito snickered, grinning widely as Mikuo shot him a bitter look, his cheeks tinged lightly pink. Akaito had been hoping to retaliate for how Mikuo humbled him earlier and was planning give him a taste of his own medicine. But he hadn't expected Mikuo to counter his assault by attempting to shove the ice cream into his face, which he did.

"You're the one acting like a child for being such a picky eater!" he argued, waving the ice cream right in front of Akaito's nose. "I bet you haven't even tasted these flavours but you're still stubbornly going to claim that they're disgusting. Just have a taste and prove that I'm wrong! Taste it, you coward!"

"No! Stop it! I don't want to! Eat it yourself!" Akaito objected, stumbling backwards as Mikuo repeatedly jutted the ice cream cone towards his mouth. Fortunately, he managed to seize Mikuo by the shoulders and pushed him away to prevent the ice cream from slandering all over his face. But it seemed that he might've been somewhat overly forceful with his resistant thrust…

Next thing he knew, Mikuo stood stunned before him, a huge, sticky blotch splattered upon his shirt from where the two scoops had made a stopover before plunging onto the ground. All Akaito needed was one, single look at Mikuo's absolutely appalled visage, before he burst into an uncontrollable laughing fit.

"Don't laugh! It's not funny!" Mikuo yelled, which did nothing to keep Akaito from doubling over while he continued to laugh so hard his stomach began to cramp. "I just washed this shirt yesterday too! This is all your fault!"

"My fault?" Akaito wheezed, still struggling to fill his lungs with oxygen. "You're the one who kept trying to push that thing into my face."

"That's because you were making fun of me, you stupid jerk! What's wrong with liking green things, huh? It's not like I'm the only person on the planet!"

Finally able to breathe properly, Akaito straightened up and met Mikuo's dour expression with a sympathetic smile. "Okay, look, I'm not saying you didn't have it coming, but I apologise. Are we cool then?"

"Even though I appreciate that you're actually apologising for once, it still won't make my shirt clean again", Mikuo grumbled, pouting at him.

"In that that case, why don't we just head back to my place? We can throw that into the washing machine and I'll lend you one of my shirts?"

Mikuo considered the proposal for a bit, and although he did seem a tad hesitant to yield for Akaito, he did concur in the end. Akaito allowed himself a sigh of relief, glad that Mikuo's attitude appeared to be growing milder. Then, it dawned upon him that he for some reason wasn't keen to let Mikuo go home yet, but he whisked the sentiment away before he could reflect upon what it meant. It probably wasn't a matter of significance anyway...


"Here, catch!"

Akaito flung the shirt across the room and Mikuo, with those agile reflexes he had, caught it without an issue. But the impressed applause he received from his red-haired friend didn't scatter his aura of dissatisfaction. He'd just established that his precious shirt was beyond salvation.

"Thanks", he said, but his tone was hollow and gouged of gratefulness.

"Look, I did say I was sorry", Akaito muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets as he shrugged indifferently. "I'd do it again if there was any point of it, but it was actually just as much your fault as mine."

He knew that those were risky words to utter, which was why he half expected Mikuo to throw a fit and blame the entire accident on him. But he didn't. Instead, he simply let out a soundless puff of breath and gave Akaito a meek glance.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. I shouldn't have tried to force you to eat that ice cream. I know how much you hate it after all", he admitted as he began to unbutton his ruined shirt, letting it slide off his shoulders and drop to the floor.

Akaito couldn't help but to marvel at how slender he was for a boy, yet didn't have a scrawny appearance in spite of that. His complexion was also quite wondrous, fair and pale as it was. It wasn't a sickly, translucent pale as Akaito's skin either. No, Mikuo's skin had a healthy, vivid glow, which adopted a rather mesmerising appearance as the golden sunbeams splayed across it. Akaito wasn't even aware he was staring at him until Mikuo's gaze lined up with his.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" he wondered. "Is there any ice cream on me somewhere? You have to tell me if there is."

Akaito hastily shook his head. "No, uh, you're fine. It's… nothing."

"Really? Nothing?" Mikuo's eyebrows bundled together above his nose as he scrutinised Akaito's aspect, clearly not taking his words for the truth. "Actually, I think I'm going to go and wash up just in case."

And with that, he exited the room, leaving Akaito all by himself for the first time since that morning. That was a bad thing – a really bad thing indeed, Akaito realised. His uneasy state of mind had made him mentally vulnerable and the cloak of solitude welled over him frighteningly fast. As the walls started closing on him, the overfamiliar claustrophobia fettered him and he started to feel as if his ribcage was compressed around his internal organs.

"Oh no…. Not again", he croaked, his heart racing with panic as he retreated to his bed in a hurry. He coiled up on the mattress, wrapping his arms himself while he leaned his forehead against his knees, his whole body convulsing violently as he tried to focus on breathing. Exhale and inhale. Be calm… relax… don't lose concentration… and just, keep, breathing.

This was far from the first time it had happened and he was painfully aware by now that the only thing to do was to wait it out. If he were to describe it, it was similar to the feeling of falling. It was as he was plunging into an infinite depth, clueless of when – if ever – he was going to reach the bottom. It was truly the most dreadful sensation he'd ever experienced and he had no idea how to escape it. Never had he been brave enough to cry for help either.

"Akaito?"

Akaito's head jerked up as a jarring insight hurtled down on him. He'd been so zoned in on eradicating his surroundings that he'd totally forgotten about Mikuo, and now he'd been exposed in this graceless, wretched position. Even though he knew that this could be his chance to plea for rescue, he was also aware that he wouldn't forgive himself if he were to stoop that low. To him, there was no other choice than to try to sweep it under the rug and hope for the best.

"H-Hey, you're back already", he stuttered as he rose from the bed, standing up on unsteady, wobbling legs. Mikuo closed the door behind him, regarding Akaito in an odd fashion as he approached him with caution in his movements.

"Akaito… is everything alright?" he asked, his voice once again softened, reassuring. Feeling at disadvantage, Akaito sensed how his eyes strayed from Mikuo and began to rove between everything in the room that wasn't his face.

"What are you talking about? I'm perfectly fine. Anyway, did you check if there was any ice cream on you? There wasn't any, was there? If you'd believed me when I told you, you wouldn't have had to check if the first place, right? So maybe you should have a little more faith in me next time, you know?"

He was rambling, just spewing out gibberish as a distraction. It was just a nervous impulse, but it was useless. Worse than useless, actually, since it only made it all the more obvious that he was attempting to flee the subject. And yet, Akaito continued, even as Mikuo drew near, even as seeing his solemn aspect remained unchanged; he desperately carried on his futile efforts, up until the very moment he was engulfed by Mikuo's embrace. Then, he fell quiet.

"Don't even try to give me that shit", Mikuo grumbled into his ear, the harshness of his words clashing with the tenderness in his tone. "You're clearly not fine Akaito, so why not just be honest? There's no reason for you to hide it from me. I won't judge you, okay? I promise you can rely on me."

At first, Akaito was so stumped he wasn't capable of moving his lips or even think. But, as he was slowly but surely getting his head around the situation, he started to sense that he was bordering on his breaking point. The longing to succumb was so awfully tempting, yet it seemed detestable and shameful somehow. The last thing he wished for was to be considered a weakling.

"I don't… I don't want to talk about it", he told Mikuo, but didn't find the strength to free himself from the envelopment of his arms.

"Then don't", Mikuo responded blankly. "But don't lie to me and don't go about pretending that everything's fine. Please, just get rid of the façade already."

He couldn't do it. Akaito just could not contain himself anymore. All he could do to protect his dignity was to plunge his teeth into his lower lip, barely preventing a whimper from eluding as he buried his face in Mikuo's shoulder and cried. His shoulders quavered while he wept quietly, more and more teardrops slipping past his defences to tumble down his cheeks.

He sunk deeper into Mikuo's arms, his fingers digging into his back. Mikuo's embrace was warm, Akaito noted. It was very warm, very tender, and very, very compassionate. He wondered whether he'd ever felt such sympathy from anyone before… but then again, he'd always been convinced that he loathed pity.

In fact, he was embarrassed with himself at this very moment. He'd never been as furious and disgusted towards how he could be so pathetically self-indulgent. But, as Mikuo softly fondled the back of his head and held him tighter, Akaito closed his eyes and couldn't stop himself from thinking: If pity equalled being coddled like this… maybe it really wasn't as bad as he'd thought?

"Your brother told me, you know", Mikuo said suddenly. "Kikaito… he saw you like this once, but he didn't think you'd open up to him, so he turned to me. I got… very worried when I heard what he said, but I knew I couldn't bring it up with you since you'd probably just deny it. So, I did whatever I thought would make you feel better instead. I was hoping that you'd let me in eventually..."

Raising his head, Akaito released himself from Mikuo's arms and took a small step backwards. Although his anxiousness shone through, Mikuo never allowed his smile to waver as he looked back at him, impatiently awaiting his response.

"So… that's why you kept coming here?" Akaito wondered, an unhinged frown forming upon his forehead. "Just because of something my brother said, you decided that I had to be unhappy and that you had to fix that?"

Adopting a somewhat demure look, Mikuo fidgeted and let his gaze drop to the floor. "W-Well, I… I couldn't stand the thought that you might be in pain and didn't have anyone to turn to. Akaito, I'm… sorry if I've upset you. Believe me, I have been feeling bad since I haven't been completely honest with you."

A part of Akaito did want him to be mad, to feel resentful and betrayed that his friend hadn't been sincere about his true intentions. But on the whole he did realise how illogical and unfair such a reaction was.

Akaito's humour and attitude were often poor and rarely at their peak. He wasn't an agreeable person by nature and was fond of giving others a hard time. Still, Mikuo had s put up with that, all due to a vague assumption that he was suffering and in need of support. That reason alone was sufficient to make Akaito believe there was nothing wrongful about Mikuo's actions.

"I can hardly be upset with you", he said and gave Mikuo a dejected smile. "After all, you've done so just to cheer me up and I didn't even appreciate it. I just… I can't understand why you would care that much for someone like me."

"But I told you that earlier, didn't I?" Mikuo murmured and extended his hands, cupping Akaito's face as he wiped the tears off his flushed cheeks with his thumbs. "I really like you, Akaito… a lot more than you know."

There was something about Mikuo's expression in that instant, something intangible that Akaito couldn't fully grasp. His long eyelashes were pointing downwards, veiling his teal irises as a dim shadow ghosted across his visage. But as his gaze lifted, Akaito saw them fill with an emotion he could only interpret as yearning, and he suddenly felt how something seemed to snap deep within him.

His rusty heart woke to life like it had received an electric shock. It was as though he was steered by some automatic mechanism, in no control over his own body as he watched how his hands reached out to Mikuo and grabbed him by the waist. His instincts drove him to act right away, and before he could even recognise his own decision, it was much too late for second thoughts.

He tugged Mikuo towards him… and firmly planted his lips upon his mouth.

At the time being, Akaito wasn't sure what the heck had gotten into him. But what he did know was that it felt right, right as if this what was he was meant to be doing. It just seemed like kissing Mikuo – possibly the one person he could truthfully call his best friend – was the most axiomatic thing in the world, and Akaito seriously came to wonder why he hadn't thought of it sooner.

Unlike what he'd anticipated, there wasn't any struggle. There was merely a moment where Mikuo's body stiffened in surprise, but it went lax again as he snaked his arms around Akaito's neck and requited the kiss. He was unhesitant, eager, and didn't waste a second on playing coy. There was no doubt that this was something that he, too, had secretly desired for quite a long time.

Akaito's heart thundered madly as he wrapped his arms around Mikuo's slim figure, sealing their embrace and eradicating the space between them. He squeezed his eyes shut and followed the flurried feeling in his gut that encouraged him to deepen the kiss, demanding him to taste the lovely boy in his clinch. Thus, he waited until Mikuo incidentally parted his lips, after which he swiftly wedged his tongue in between them before the gap disappeared.

Not that Mikuo seemed to mind. He'd already slid all ten digits into Akaito's hairdo, his blunt nails scraping the redhead's scalp as the tips of their tongues greeted shortly, before Akaito proceeded to the hollow of his mouth. The soft moan he teased out from Mikuo as he traced his tongue across his palate sent jolts of exhilaration spiralling down Akaito's spine. He made certain to map out every inch of Mikuo's mouth, growing completely enamoured by how his hands twitched and trembled while he emitted muffled noises of enjoyment along.

The heat of their bodies and the tightness of their embrace almost made it feel as if they were melting into each other. Deeply entangled, the two of them revelled in one another without restraint, dragging out the pleasure to the furthest extent until their desperation to keep it lasting wore them out.

They where starved of air when they broke away at last, both dizzied and flustered and drunk on ecstasy. With their knees weak and jittering, they clung to each other for the sole purpose of not falling over. It might have been possible to hear the frantic pounding of their hearts if it weren't for their loud gasping.

Once he'd gathered himself, Akaito drew a deep inhale and glanced up at Mikuo's face. He immediately fell transfixed, his jaw even dropping a little as he admired the boy before him with a dumb, awestricken stare.

He was blushing and beaming, displaying a grin so effulgent you could virtually see its lustre with your bare eyes. Not to mention his eyes, which nearly gave Akaito a cardiac arrest when they squinted blissfully at him, glittering like gemstones that ought to be worth a hundred million yen. His whole visage radiated with such peerless affection and felicity, which regrettably lead to a bit of an overload in Akaito's sensory stimulation.

"Akaito!" Mikuo cried out as Akaito, unexpectedly and inexplicably, broke into tears again. "What's the matter? Why are you crying now for?"

"I… I don't know why", Akaito yelped, rubbing his nose and his red, puffy eyes with his sleeve, sniffling and choking up terribly as he spoke. "You d-did something to me. You s-started this and now I can't make it stop."

This time it was full on blubbering, the most uninhibited form of crying that came with wailing, sobbing and trembling lips inclusive. It was also incredibly mortifying, which was why Akaito insisted on smudging both tears and snot all over his face; there was nothing he rather wanted than to make the tears cease.

"Geez, what am I going to do with you?" Mikuo said sweetly, stroking Akaito's bangs out of the way to grace his forehead with a consoling smooch. "It's been a long day for you, hasn't it? Come here, let's lie down a little."

He guided Akaito towards the bed and Akaito obliged more than readily to collapse upon it. He curled up on the mattress and continued to bawl as Mikuo settled beside him. Mikuo did nothing but sit there, caressing Akaito's hair while he allowed him to cry it out until his heart fell at ease.

When his eyes finally had dried up, Akaito began to realise he felt strangely unburdened all of a sudden. He wasn't strung up by any means, but instead he felt secure, relaxed and totally at peace with himself. A feeling of contentment claimed him and he peered up at Mikuo, his crooked grin feeble but harmonious.

"I really like you too, you know", he mumbled, buffing at the back of Mikuo's hand with his head. "I don't like most people, but I've always liked you."

A faint, rosy shade dusted Mikuo's cheeks and his eyes trailed away. "Yeah… w-well, I've kind of figured that out by now."

"So who's embarrassed this time, eh?" Akaito hummed, which made Mikuo flare up to an even more conspicuous degree. "You look super adorable by the way."

"Shut up, jerkface…"

He made a half-hearted attempt to flick a finger at Akaito's forehead, but Akaito caught onto his hand before he succeeded and created a trail of tender kisses across his knuckles. His face scrunching up, Mikuo grumbled something stuffily under his breath, but it was rather apparent that his exasperation was just for show. He slumped down next to Akaito and their fingers intertwined.

There was a pause, a moment without any type of disturbance as a sense of sobriety drifted over them. Perhaps neither of them had fully absorbed it until that point, but the awkwardness of their current position was now beckoning for their attention. They had crossed that line, and it should be glaringly obvious that the way they both "liked" each other went way beyond friendship.

But then there was that question: What now? What comes next? What do they do? Akaito certainly had no idea. He'd never found himself in any similar situation to this before and he was pretty sure the case was the same for Mikuo.

Clearing his throat, Akaito snuck a peek at Mikuo's visage to search for some sort of sign that could reveal what he was thinking. But as fast as their eyes met, he could feel the other boy stiffen, his lips stretching into a thin, straight line while the blood seemed to rapidly drain from his face.

Well, this was… not ideal. With a blank expression like that, Akaito had no clue what could be going through Mikuo's mind. But he supposed that this was a good opportunity to practice some earnest communication… even though his unnerved stomach wasn't responding well to the thought.

"So, where does this leave us?" The words pretty much fell out of Akaito's mouth. "Are we… you know… like… b-boyfriends now or what?"

Mikuo preformed bashful recoil in which he took cover behind his arm, though it didn't exactly conceal the fact that his face was in blazing flames. "I… uh… I d-don't… I haven't… I-I mean… Is that… is that what you want?"

"Well, I haven't really thought about it, but…" Akaito hesitated and chewed on his lip for a while as he considered the concept, fully aware that Mikuo was observing him anxiously in the meantime. "I think… it could be worth a try. I'm not really experienced with this sort of thing… but I like you, so… why not? "

"That answer was really 'you', you know?" Mikuo chuckled, briefly regaining his composure again. "But you're not wrong. I think it could be worth a try too… Although, to be honest… I'm worried about whether either of us really is ready for this kind of commitment. A-And what should we tell everyone? Or should we even tell them? Maybe we should keep it to ourselves for now? But it's going to be hard to keep it a secret, isn't it? And what happens if we—?"

"Would you stop fussing about it?" Akaito gnarled and pulled Mikuo into a rough, smothering kiss to silence him. It worked like a freaking charm. "Seriously, you're overthinking it. Can't you just go with the flow and see what happens? I'm sure it'll be fine unless you start making a big deal out of it."

A measly peep was all that Mikuo was able to utter as reply. Seemingly delirious from the crude nature of Akaito's interruption, he cowered behind the shelter of his arm again, well nigh fuming from the top of his head.

"Come on now, Mi-kun", Akaito crooned, a lopsided grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he wormed closer to him. "I'm telling you, we're going to manage whatever comes at us. Have some trust in your boyfriend, will you?"

Boyfriend. Mikuo reacted to that word directly, his luminous orbs tinselling with tiny specks of light while his hand squeezed Akaito's tighter. Slowly and cautiously, he lowered his arm and exposed his face to Akaito. And then he nodded, bestowing him with the sweetest, most angelic of smiles.

"Okay then", he chimed lovingly, and Akaito's heart wrote its last will. He flipped over, buried his face in the mattress, and groaned out loud.

"You can't do that. You need to stop that or you're going to fucking kill me."

"What are you talking about?" Mikuo wondered, by all means lost in the conversation. Akaito's head snapped up and he issued a glower to express his pent-up frustration, his gut churning in a most fermenting, heated way.

"Don't play all innocent with me!" he growled behind gritting teeth. "That thing you did just there! That cutesy, I-don't-where-the-fuck-you-descended-from-but-it-sure-ain't-Earth smile of yours! I'm not used to that! I'm not ready for that! And if you do it again, I swear I'm going to try to bone you so you better stop it!"

Mikuo's instantly turned beet-red and gaped at Akaito in shock. "B-B-Bone? A-Akaito, you c-can't seriously— I-I mean… it's a b-bit too soon for that, isn't it?"

"That's why I'm asking you to quit, dummy." Akaito groaned again and planted his face back onto the bed. "I don't think my body is capable of handling these many emotions in one day… I want to go back to sleep."

"Maybe that's for the best", Mikuo agreed and Akaito felt him bury a soft kiss amidst his crimson locks of hair. "I should be heading home anyway."

Akaito turned his head to the side just enough to view his boyfriend with one eye, a malcontent scowl settling upon his features as he watched Mikuo rise from the bed and straighten out the wrinkled in his clothes.

"You're leaving now?" he wondered, hoping that Mikuo would take notice of how his voice clang with plangent disappointment.

"Yeah, I promised Miku I would swing by for lunch so I've got to go home and get ready," Mikuo answered, checking his wristwatch. "I was originally planning to ask you to come too, but I think it should wait for another time when you're not as sentimentally exhausted." He stopped for a bit and fell quiet when he spotted Akaito's visage, his forehead creasing at the sight of it. "Why are you looking all moody like that? Don't tell me you actually wanted to come?"

"No, it's not that…" Akaito's gaze wandered to his hands and he watched them curl into the comforter. "I just thought you'd stick around for a little longer…"

It made him queasy thinking about how desperate for company he had just made himself appear. He couldn't compel himself to look Mikuo in the eye and kept staring at his hands while he suffered through the humbling silence that followed. Then, felt the gentle touch of Mikuo's hand upon his crown.

"In that case, would you admit that you really don't like being alone?" Mikuo wondered, picking up his cell phone from his pocket. "I'm sure Miku would understand if I called and cancelled. Would you like me to do that?"

In spite of the unbearable mortification, Akaito caved. "Yes…"

"Yes what, Akaito?" Mikuo insistently pushed him to elaborate.

"I… I'd like you to cancel the lunch. I don't want to be alone right now… I want you to stay", he muttered restively, flushed red-hot to the tips of his ears.

"And what's the magic word?"

"…Please?"

"Good boy."

Mikuo dabbed Akaito's head in approval, for sure gloating over how he'd successfully "trained" him to voice his feelings. He then dialled Miku's number and did his best to explain to her why he was calling off dinner, struggling to satisfy her demand for a reason without mentioning that he'd just recently adopted a new, attention-starved boyfriend – which was the exact thing he ended up doing, when he eventually ran out of lame excuses.

Once he'd terminated the call, he sighed heavily and dumped himself onto Akaito's bed, shoulders drooping and head hanging low.

"Is Onee-san giving you a hard time?" Akaito taunted as he dragged himself over to the spot next to Mikuo, flinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

"You have no idea. She can be so incredibly pushy and nosy sometimes", Mikuo droned, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, it's out there now anyway. I guess it won't be long before literally everyone knows we're a couple."

"Huh… I guess it can't be helped then… Okay, I'll marry you."

Mikuo gave a start that almost sent him tumbling off the bed. "A-Akaito! What the heck! You're kidding, right? Please tell me you're kidding!"

"What, you don't want a pretty ring and a nice wedding? We can have flowers and white doves— Of course I'm kidding, you dumbass", Akaito sniggered and stuck his tongue out at him. "I was just trying to lighten the mood with a little joke. Are you really gullible enough to believe I was serious?"

"I'm never quite sure when it comes to you", Mikuo murmured, emitting a relieved exhale. "There are better jokes to lighten the mood with, you know."

"Let's agree to disagree."

"You're an idiot."

"Takes one to know one."

"Well, I did agree to become your boyfriend, didn't I?"

"Touché."

Probably in an attempt to wipe off the complacent grin that stretched across his face, Mikuo rolled his eyes, seized Akaito by the collar and drew him into a kiss. Even though his act hardly took Akaito off guard, it did manage to alter the demeanour of his grin as it evolved to… a simply happy one. He was all the more pleased to confirm that the emotion was mutual once they separated and he discovered that Mikuo's expression mirrored his own perfectly.

"But you know, even if you are an idiot… I still really like you, Akaito", Mikuo mumbled, ogling shyly at him from behind his bangs.

"I know you do", Akaito purred affectionately. "I like you more though, which means I'm a better boyfriend than you are."

"It's not a competition. Shut up and go to sleep."

"Alright, alright. Copy that."

And so, according to Mikuo's orders, Akaito lied down again and was soon followed by Mikuo himself who nestled into his arms. Incapable of withholding another smile, Akaito tucked his boyfriend close to his chest and nuzzled into his hair, allowing his eyes to slide close as a pleasant fatigue washed over him.

Not that he'd say it out loud, but Akaito did confess to himself that he was quite looking forwards to the next time Mikuo came by to drag him out of the house. Why? Well, because the next time the two of them went out together, it wouldn't just be a spontaneous outing anymore. After all, the next time they went out together, it would be no less than their very, first, date.