I HONESTLY NEED THIS.

Disclaimer: bruh.

It was one of those things that Ritsu never, ever thought Takano would have. Sure, the guy was close to magazine model on the Gollum-to-Adonis scale; and he was a damn hard worker—and skilled like nobody could believe—when he set his mind to it, but when it came to things like a sense of humility, or a shred of self-control, or a motorcycle, the jaded young editor had a hard time letting the synapses in his brain connect.

Wait, motorcycle. That's right. Takano Masamune had an honest-to-god, your-mother-warned-you-about-boys-like-these motorcycle. And he was currently straddling it like a seasoned pro, helmet visor slid up, hands gripping the handles, eyes sharp and alert and oh, was it always this hot in Japan?

In the spring? You're out of your mind, buddy.

…quiet you.

"Well?" Takano said after a long silence, in which before said silence he'd caught Ritsu as he was leaving Marukawa Shoten and offered him a ride home. On his motorcycle. Which the younger male had never even seen, let alone heard of. Who owned a motorcycle in Japan, anyways? Unless it was one of those dinky little scooters that the people of the city used all the time, he'd never seen a motorcycle in his entire life.

Ritsu delicately picked up the last pieces of his common sense and shut his mouth just to snap back, "Well, what?"

Takano sighed. And it was a very heavy sigh, like Ritsu had done him so many great wrongs beforehand and this was just another one on top of a very tall pile. "Do you have cotton in your ears? I asked you if you wanted a ride home. It's faster than taking the train."

"Tch," was what Ritsu replied with, because he didn't know what else to say. He frowned to himself, and tried not to flush as pink as he knew he was already doing—way to go, Onodera—as he took the proffered helmet that Takano held out and set it around his head.

Do not say a word, do not say a word, or so help me I will—"You seem too small for the helmet. I keep telling you that you should move in with me so I can feed your skinny little bones."

Well…that wasn't so bad. It was one of Takano's milder backhanded worries, anyhow, not that any of them were nice at all.

The older male smirked, and somehow it was se—no. Somehow, it was hot—NO. Absolutely not. He wasn't about to be swayed by something so…loud, and…oh, whatever. Takano looked so…sexy, so much that Ritsu felt his mouth dry up faster than water in a salt bath, and the uncomfortable stirrings of something in his lower areas.

Stop it. This is ridiculous, it's only a hunk of metal, it shouldn't do anything to change your mind about him. Ritsu repeated this in his mind as he got on the bike, as he—VERY reluctantly, make that distinction here—wound his arms around Takano's middle—totally not secretly feeling the man's hard stomach up and feeling all swoony like a teenage girl, nope—and held on for dear life.

No, just kidding.

But Takano was still going pretty fast, and Ritsu tried to ignore the taut, warm skin underneath his cheek, tried to ignore the strength he could feel in that broad back…Christ. Wind whipped past his face as they sped towards their apartment building, but Ritsu couldn't feel any of that. All he could feel was—much to the embarrassment of both his pride and his stupidly eager…groin—Takano, Takano, Takano. Also this is one of the best decisions of my life was scattered somewhere in his chaos of thoughts, but that was so faint he didn't pay attention to it.

His breath clouded in front of him into the cool, spring night, hot against his upper lip, and he shivered, pressing his legs together to get rid of the annoying pressure there while attempting to keep it from Takano's notice. Which, well, nothing Ritsu ever tried to sneak past the guy had ever gotten through, so why would it start now?

For the rest of the way home, though, Takano didn't say anything, only locking his eyes to the road in front of him, body firm and steady and—whoa, holy shit. Hoooly shit, we stopped too fast. Ugh. Did I get vertigo from how hard my head snapped backwards?—

Oh, what is that heavenly feeling? Oh. He's kissing me. Goddamit. Ritsu geared his attention towards what was actually happening in front of him instead of his increasingly-undecipherable thoughts. Takano had pinned him—against the motorcycle! Shit—and was now evidently devouring his face. It was hard to tell where their mouths were connected; it was almost as if they were fused together. Wait. Gross thought. No.

And did I just make that noise?! Ritsu let out a breathy gasp when Takano started grinding against him like nobody could walk in and—

"Ritsu…Ritsu," Takano murmured out between wet, messy kisses, his own groans escaping him.

It was so very hot, in both definitions of the word. Ritsu was boiling in his sweater, but it didn't seem like they were going to get anymore unclothed than Takano popping off the first few buttons so he could use that goddamn tongue to mess around on Ritsu's collarbones and the top of his sternum and his neck. And it was also hot, as in they were literally dry-humping each other in a very public place, and the possibility of someone coming in and seeing them did not alarm him so much as make him moan even louder as he gripped Takano's forearms, fingers pressing indents into his skin.

Ritsu couldn't help himself from choking out, "T-takano-san…ah!" as he fell, fell all the way down an abyss of pleasure.

He came down from his high, panting, eyes glazed over and that typical stickiness inside his pants that made him squirm a bit. Takano let out a long breath and captured Ritsu's lips in a sweet kiss before grabbing his hand and moving towards the elevators.

And, of course, the infamous Demon Editor of the Emerald department always had to have the last word, but it only registered vaguely in Ritsu's hazy mind when Takano mentioned off-handedly, "If I'd known you like this so much, I would bring the motorcycle around a lot more often."

…shit.

A/N: This…wasn't as good as I thought it'd be. Oh well. It is 2 AM and I have no idea what I'm doing.

-ChemicallyEnhanced