Warnings: Shonen-ai/ Yaoi. First Lemon in the second part… not posted on because it's too racy. If you don't like the lemon, please be nice. It's my first one… Oh and it was written from midnight to two in the morning… and is unbetaed.
Rating: R for the first part NC-17 at the end.
Together
Shinobu always seemed to go to bed early. Whether there were visitors, in the form of their kohai, or whether Mitsuru was still awake tending to his schoolwork, which tended to go unfinished until the night before it was due, Shinobu was always in bed by eleven o'clock. The only exceptions to this rule were so random and so seemingly unconnected that no one had been able to pinpoint the reason for his inconsistency. But, since his roommate was the RA and since this never occurred unless Shinobu was not actually in the dorm at eleven, no one besides Mitsuru and occasionally Hasukawa or Shun even knew that he had broken this habit.
To some, it would seem that he just wanted to get a jump-start on sleep. Or perhaps he wanted to lay back and meditate before bed. But Mitsuru had learned long ago never to trust anything within his roommate's life style. He was almost always plotting something. And whenever he was mentioned in conversation during his "sleep" he was miraculously awake enough to respond in kind.
Mitsuru contemplated this on a regular basis. And this night was no exception. Having had no time to complete his essay for History, he was sitting up, light on, at his desk, purple eyes staring at the bulletin board absently while he leaned on his right arm. His right elbow was on the History book he was researching from, while his left hand covered the top of the next page. In his mouth was an old pencil from his junior-high-school. He had received it upon graduating, and it wished him luck.
But his mind was not on history. It wasn't on the calendar he had pegged on the board before him. And it certainly wasn't on junior high.
He was thinking about Shinobu.
He guessed that right now, he could begin to talk, as if to himself, and as soon as he made an error in judgment, like if he were to say "Maybe I should just work on this during breakfast," Shinobu would admonish him. Perhaps he would say, "If you wait until tomorrow, I know you'll never finish." Or maybe that was too caring. Maybe more like, "Do what you want, but I won't listen to you whining in the morning." Or… something like that.
Mitsuru wondered why Shinobu had always reacted like this. The first time he had talked to himself while studying at night it had been a shock to hear a relevant voice from behind him. Encouraging him, in a rather selfish way. But did Shinobu ever act differently?
Of course not. He only did things that had some purpose in his own future.
So then he had to have a reason for staying awake, even when he was supposedly asleep, under the covers, lavender hair softly touching the pillow below as he meditated, waiting until he was ready to…
To what? To answer some question? Maybe even the one I want to ask him now?
"Oy, Shinobu-san," he asked tentatively, cursing himself for his voice, which sounded shaky and almost… afraid. He really didn't want Shinobu to be awake at this hour. It was two in the morning; surely he must be asleep right now…
"Mitsuru-kun?" asked a voice. A steady voice… but one that almost seemed to hold a hint of laughter. Or maybe that was just his imagination. Wait… Mitsuru-KUN?
"Um… did I wake you up?" he asked nervously.
There was a pause. As though Shinobu was considering his options. "No," he answered, finally. "Why?"
This threw Mitsuru off a bit. He had really been expecting his roommate to deny that he had been awake. Although he did not really expect Shinobu to tell the truth. Was this answer, perhaps, a lie? "Well, I was just thinking," he said, trying to lie as fluently as the professional in the room, "that you probably could help me out here… with this paper I mean."
The blanket shifted, but it was a few moments before a stony faced, but very awake, Tezuka Shinobu parted the curtains, stood up, and took the few steps to Mitsuru's desk. "But, Mitsuru-kun, it does not seem that you have even started."
Mitsuru heard the name again and tried hard not to show that he was uncomfortable with it. In fact it was a few seconds before he realized that he had made a grave mistake. He had, in that last sentence, just given Shinobu an opening. The boy was right, he had hardly even written his name on the paper. And right now, the look on his face… he could feel his eyes widen, and turned to look at Shinobu, who had suddenly adopted that strange cat-face that Mitsuru so despised.
"Um… yeah… I have… writer's block."
Shinobu, looking thoroughly unconvinced, sat down in his own chair, which he then pulled up to the other's desk. Perhaps, thought Mitsuru, a little too close to his own. He tried hard not to squirm. "Why don't you tell me why you really called me over, Mitsuru-kun. You lie like a monk." His voice said he knew exactly why Mitsuru had called him over.
Devastated, Mitsuru hung his head.
"I think I know why," whispered Shinobu, right into his ear, making Mitsuru jump. "You were just testing whether I really wait up for you, every night. Whether I really lay awake, in meditation, waiting for you to call me. I knew you were the only one who would notice." The voice had such satisfaction, such pride in his manipulation, that it took all Mitsuru had not to hit the man on the spot.
He turned his head around slowly, instead, and stared at Shinobu. Glared really. "You know I hate it when you manipulate me."
Shinobu nodded. "Yes Mitsuru-kun." Mitsuru's eyes flashed when his name was taken so liberally, and he was angered by the slight twist of the cattish smile that showed Shinobu was marking yet another victory. "But those of us that have strength use it just as I use my wit."
Mitsuru stared back, eyes narrowed. "It's too late for that kind of talk. I'm tired. Just get to the point."
"Certainly," said Shinobu.
And the conniving bastard leaned even closer to his roommate and stole exactly what he had aimed for that night.
It was just a light brush of lips, but it sent Mitsuru's mind to another planet of shock. Before he could even recover enough to protest, it was over and Shinobu was almost back to his bed. "Just think about it, Mitsuru-kun," he said, closing the curtains.
Mitsuru did not finish his homework that night.
The next few days went by in a blur. He was granted an extension, although the price was a good ten points off of the paper. He spent every spare moment in the library, finishing the assignment. If anything, the idea of working late at night in his room filled him with tiny butterflies, or maybe moths. Butterflies were not scary enough, he guessed. Secretly, he could admit it was more like fireflies, and despite the fact that he now avoided Shinobu at every turn he found himself thinking about it, just as the other boy had asked.
In fact, he was spending as little time as possible in the dorm, returning just in time for room check most nights. He kept the clipboard with him, and his bag was almost spitting at the seams since he determined that he should keep all of his books with him. He only returned to his room after curfew to find Shinobu working at his desk until his usual time of retirement. He still welcomed Mitsuru home in the same way, wished him a good night in the same way, and even commented on the weather and on the dorm. Mitsuru answered stiffly, but began to wonder if he had hallucinated something. Nothing had changed at all, perhaps. And he was never called Mitsuru-kun again.
The simple seduction, for that was what it had had to be, right, of that night seemed to have disappeared, and it was only the fact that Shinobu never asked him what was bothering him and never tried to pull him into a conversation that made him aware that the question was still out there. A question that had never taken solid form, perhaps, but an obvious question never the less. Vague, but still in his brain. "Can we be more?"
He sat with Suka at the lunch table every day, but Shinobu sat with the student council members, who had agreed to meet him at the dorm for special meals that week to organize some sort of event. Suka and Shun questioned his spaced out looks, the fact that he was hardly eating, and that he hadn't even stolen some of Suka's food today, what was wrong with him, but he was still considering the question.
Shinobu already had the upper hand in this. He seemed to assume that Mitsuru would be dependent upon him in a relationship. Well, that was one idea that had to be scrapped. He was just as independent as the other. And maybe he was more of a brains kind of guy, despite his martial arts training and apparent strength. But Mitsuru was certainly stronger than the wiser man.
Wait.
Mitsuru's eyes grew large as he considered what had been said to him that night. He ignored Shun, who seemed to have determined that, yes, something was wrong with him, and remembered how Shinobu had mentioned how some used strength, and others wit, to get what they wanted.
Well, maybe it was time to show Shinobu that they were equals.
That night he made a show of staying up later than usual. He had no assignment. He had no reason to be awake. He chewed on his graduation pencil, staring blankly at the bulletin board while he leaned on his right elbow. His left hand was splayed across the clear desk. And, when he looked down, he could see the clock he usually had behind his bed. At two o'clock, he spoke.
"Oy, Shinobu-kun." He forced himself to change the honorific. If he was going to do this, he had to do it all the way.
"Mitsuru-kun?"
"Hey, I need your help, if you've got a minute."
Instantly, there was the sound of sheets shifting, but it was a few moments before Shinobu emerged from behind the curtains. He walked to his chair, placed it to face Mitsuru, then sat, staring at the blonde.
"I thought about what you said." He waited for a comment, but didn't get one. So he continued. "But I want to make something clear."
He pulled his chair closer, the chair scraping slightly across the linoleum as he maneuvered himself to Shinobu's side. Leaning in, he waited until Shinobu was beginning to ready for a kiss, then grabbed both of his roommate's arms in a strong grip and pulled the other to the ground, landing heavily on his back. He wondered if he imagined the "oof" that he had heard as he over powered the other.
"You can trick me all you like. You live for that," he whispered in the other's ear. "But that does not mean you're going to end up on top."
"Oh?" asked the other, innocently. Mitsuru felt Shinobu tense a second too late. He was rolled over onto his back, and found Shinobu pinning him to the floor. Before he could strike back, his lips were captured in a searing, claiming, kiss. Without waiting for Mitsuru to open his mouth, Shinobu's tongue explored the space above the other's tongue.
It was a few seconds before Mitsuru could think again, but when he finally grabbed a strand of consciousness, it was with the thought that his roommate was indeed a good kisser. But, this did not matter at all. Biting the tongue back, Mitsuru wrestled back some control, managing to half flip Shinobu over again and to return the kiss emphatically.
As though they had agreed upon it, they both ceased their struggle. The kiss turned less savage. They finally remembered to breathe. They held each other close, each noticing the proof that the other had enjoyed this immensely.
"So," asked Mitsuru. "I think that was a tie."
"Hm. Perhaps it is, Mitsuru-kun. I underestimated you."
"Are we going to make this… more than friendship then?"
Shinobu smirked. "I think we already have."
"So, are we together then?"
"Of course we are."
The next morning
They sat together in the cafeteria. All four of them again. Mitsuru seemed to have made a full recovery, and both Shinobu and Mitsuru laughed as Shun asked what had happened. It was a long story they explained.
Fujikake passed Mitsuru in the hall that day, and the two of them sat together at lunch for a private chat. Both agreed on one thing.
It was nice to live with the person you loved.
Together.
The End!