Yukimura had a problem.

It wasn't a typical kind of problem. Most kids his age were worried about learning to drive or applying to college or even whether or not they were going to pass the next chemistry exam. Yukimura wasn't thinking too hard about any of those things; he already had his license (barely), he would be going to college on a sports scholarship (probably), and he was going to pass his chemistry exam (hopefully).

His problem wasn't something so simple that it could be defined by either pass or fail. His problem was one Date Masamune. Or, to be more specific, Masamune's lips.

It was infuriating. Yukimura hadn't even had his first kiss yet - he had never really thought about it before, hadn't ever had someone he would like to kiss in the first place - and suddenly it was the only thing in his head.

The problem was that Masamune was, objectively speaking, quite an attractive young man. Everything from his confident posture to his single, devastatingly beautiful eye was alluring, there was no question about that. Yukimura did not think it strange to occasionally be entranced by his one and only rival, even if it did happen to be another man.

What was strange was to be so fixated on Masamune's red, curved— perfectly normal lips.

Okay, maybe he spent a little more time on them than the rest of Masamune, but could he not attribute that to the simple fact that they spoke to each other often? Of course it would be natural to watch his rival's mouth.

Except that he continued to stare, even when Masamune wasn't doing anything at all. Even when Masamune was just sitting there, trying to figure out a math problem and chewing on the tip of his pencil with his lower lip jutted out in thought…

Yukimura didn't have an excuse for that.

He also didn't have an excuse for when they were arguing and Masamune would suddenly shove into his space and his face would be right there and Yukimura would suddenly forget what they were fighting about. All he could think was how Masamune's lips were impossibly feminine, not chapped or bitten in the least, a color that should have only been attainable with lipstick, and was it possible that Masamune actually used such products? Maybe that was how he was able to drive Yukimura insane. He wondered if the red would stain his own mouth if he kissed him…

Then Masamune's fist suddenly slammed into the wall next to his head, demanding to know why Yukimura had zoned out and Yukimura blushed and sputtered a nonsensical reply. Masamune quirked an eyebrow and backed off for the time being, but Yukimura didn't miss the slight smirk as he turned away.

Yukimura had a problem and that problem was Date Masamune's maddening lips.