Title: (Inspired by) Nikolita's College AU
Pairing: Seiran x Shuurei
Genre: PWP
Words: approx. 1000
Rating: M, just to be safe
Disclaimer: Saiunkoku Monogatari does not belong to me. In fact, this adaptation doesn't, either. ;) This little drabble is based on Nikolita's college AU adaptation.
AN: This was originally posted to my LJ back in March 2011. Written in part, of course, for Nikolita (thank you for the plot bunnies!), and in part for annalisemarie99's birthday. (Happy B-day! Sorry it's late!)

Sometimes, Seiran was ready to swear that Ensei deliberately set him up to ruin his peace of mind and hard-won tranquility.
"You have the wrong number."
Ensei refused to let his exasperation through, and kept smiling, jovially trying to convince Seiran. "Look, would you just-."
"No."
"I'll be back as soon as I can, I just need to-."
"I'm hanging up."
"Seiran! She's probably already standing there at my door! Would you just let her in so she isn't left alone in the hallway!" roared Ensei, and Seiran could practically hear his 'friend' ripping at his shaggy brown hair in frustration. But then Ensei seemed to reconsider, because he slyly added, "Or invite her into your room! Do you think I haven't seen how you look at Shuurei?"
Dead silence met the suggestion.
Seiran swallowed thickly, a fine thread of anxiety shooting through his chest while a cold sweat ran down his back, making his lungs constrict.
He'd been so careful—how had…
At the continuing silence, Ensei paused in his joking, and Seiran suddenly felt his stomach bottom out with the fear fear he'd somehow let something slip past his careful guard; that Ensei had stumbled across some tell-tale hint in his body language that he'd endeavoured to suppress; that—Seiran's heart rate sped up dramatically at his next thought, and his throat went dry—or, even worse, had Shuurei herself somehow noticed-.
But his fears were alleviated a moment later, when Ensei's raucous laughter spilled through the phone.
"I got you that time, didn't I!" crowed Ensei. The bastard.
Relieved, to some extent, Seiran felt his tensed shoulders stiffen slightly before shrugging back again.
"Seriously, though, I trust you, man," Ensei continued. "Just take care of her for me 'til I get back."
From his reclined position on his bed, Seiran rubbed tiredly at his face, hoping against hope that his blossoming migraine would magically disappear. Ensei tended to provoke them in him. Frequently.
Mentally, he cursed the scruffy man who claimed to be his best friend.
"How long will you be?" he finally groaned, peeking at his clock.
"My replacement didn't show up for his shift, so I'm left pulling a double and I haven't been able to reach her. Just let her into my room, and I'll be there as soon as I'm done."
The silver-haired man wasn't reassured, and felt his eyes narrowing with tension.
"How. Long?"
There was a crash of dishes, followed by some wild cursing heard from the phone receiver, and Seiran shrank away from it, his ears ringing.
"… Uh, looks like it might be a while…"
As the other man hung up, Seiran let his head drop back onto his bedcovers again. His heart beat had slowed, finally, but was still pounding hard against his ribcage. Especially every time a certain pair of cognac eyes and dark, beautifully long hair passed his mind's eye, with that teasing, perfect smile. That smile that had haunted him since he'd met her, that distracted him when he was supposed to be focusing in class, that spoke with a voice he couldn't get out of his head…
Startled, Seiran pulled himself roughly from his reverie.
No. He wasn't doing this. Shuurei was his best friend's (enemy's?) girl, and he was not going to cross that bridge, ever. He would let her into Ensei's room, let her know he would be just next door if she needed anything, and he would walk away.
Straight back to his bed. Bedroom. Dorm room. Room in a dorm with a bed in it—bed where he slept. Dreamed. Dreamed of her.
He swallowed.
And immediately decided he'd need to study at his desk all that night, because looking at his bed was doing unbearably imaginative things that he shouldn't be imagining about… her. Them. Together.
In his bed.
Stop it.
Stop it before it becomes uncomforta—…too late.
Seiran bunched his fists, ready to punch the wall as the now-too-familiar urge came upon him, the one that always followed thoughts of her. He was a grown man; this was ridiculous. Where did his self-control go when it came to that one particular young woman? Hadn't he outgrown this stage in his early adolescence? It appalled and embarrassed him when it rendered him so uncomfortable.
And perhaps aroused him, knowing that such simple things about her stimulated him to that extent.
Frustration, and something more, coursed through him, making him irritable.
That does it.
He was going to kill Ensei.
Damn that idiot; his migraine was getting worse, and now he had another 'problem' physically distracting him.
(Obviously, everything wrong in his life was Ensei's fault.)
Amidst his guilty, if deluded, conscience, Seiran understood he needed to do something to relieve his condition. After a moment of reflection, reached for the box of tissues he'd brought back to his bedside a few nights prior.
As he loosened his belt and slipped his hand inside, he finally let the images that seemed to bombard him on a daily basis take up residence in his imagination.
Her smile, her laugh, her eyes…
Her mouth.
Firmly taking himself in hand, he stroked his cock from its firmness to rock-hard arousal as the last thought filtered through.
It didn't take long for his hips to start to rise, too, their rhythm seeking the satisfaction that he couldn't quite achieve without her, but close enough that he would gratefully accept any relief his own grasp could offer him.
His breathing came harsher as he felt the small of his back tensing; the tremors that signaled it would soon be upon him, the tightening in his-
Through his lust-clouded haze, Seiran heard a polite tapping on a nearby dorm-room door, and a very familiar, pleasant female voice calling out, "Ensei? It's me…"
He hissed sharply between his teeth, and struggled to contain the terse cry that attempted to escape his lips as he released his pent-up frustration, even as his back arched up off the mattress.
So much for a quiet night in.

The End.