A/N: Uuuuuh, I don't know, honestly. A generic, cliché canon-ish 10051 fic?


.supermassive black hole.

you caught me under false pretenses

.

.

.

He managed to dodge a football whirling to his way by quickly bending his back and knees, crouching as the ball flew past where his head had been a moment ago. A quick sorry from the guy that ran to pick the ball up was the only thing he got, but he hadn't expected much, and he wasn't really even listening as he was already heading away from the court and away from the campus towards the library where he would submerge himself into the world of thermophysics and maybe even astronomy if he felt like it.

(Recently, he had fallen for the concepts of space and the dark matter and black holes and supernovas.)

This was the shortcut – through the football court, through the nondescript shopping mall that was to be demolished soon, which was why no one really walked by there – and the route Shouichi most often used on his way to the library that actually was supposed to be within the perimeters of the campus of his university but for one or the other reason wasn't.

He idly turned up the volume of his headphones and nodded along to the music blasting into his ears as he held onto his backpack, relishing in the feeling of fresh air after many hours of stifling heat and aircondition-less classrooms.

Even though the unforgiving sunshine was brighter outside, there was at least the cool, almost chilly breeze that breathed against his face and hugged his body, and Shouichi tilted his head a little more to thoroughly enjoy it, arms carelessly swaying to the beath of the song.

Shouichi took a deep inhale.

This was one of his better days.

There was this one corner in the library that Shouichi favored greatly – it was hidden from view from the front of the library and more crowded parts, like the large oblong tables where some university students would study their notes or, rather, pretend to do that while holding hushed conversations.

Shouichi liked the peace this corner had, even with the occasional passer-by went looking for certain types of books.

It was a Friday afternoon, and Shouichi's knees were pulled up, a book atop them as he leafed through several pages of quantum physics and its theory and tales of tests and uses and practicality.

There was a water bottle on the desk he didn't use, a testament to how long Shouichi usually stayed at the library.

(Hours, hours, hours.)

Really, this was supposed to be like any other Friday afternoon – but, in the end, it wasn't. Not quite.

Shouichi was not much of a people person – but he wasn't antisocial or hateful, he simply preferred to keep to himself. Socially awkward, one could say – he didn't quite know how to act in most situations that most people were completely at ease with.

Honestly, he didn't want to bother. He had his math, he had numbers, he had science – he had his studies to focus on and that left only very little time for something as flippant as socializing.

(The fact that most of the students didn't like may have had something to dow with this as well – no matter how grown up they pretended to be, university students were still hormonal, flimsy creatures, and there were cliques and popularity, though maybe less so than in high school.)

(And so Shouichi kept himself away – he had never been popular anyway.)

Shouichi was not a people person, and perhaps this was why he felt slightly annoyed – anxious, even – when another student simply plopped to the desk near his one.

(Yeah, there were a few desks here and there, but there were only two in this part, and both were usually vacant – would be, anyway, if not for Shouichi.)

The sound of chair being pulled screeched in the silence, and Shouichi twitched – he had set his headphones around his neck and turned the volume down, so the screech of the chair's legs was very audible, very grating on his ears – before turning his head slightly towards the person on the desk. That person, a student by the looks of it, was within touching distance, and Shouichi instinctively recoiled just a bit.

White hair – dyed? A rebel? - with a hint of purple (and while Shouichi of all people couldn't comment on anyone's hair colour, this he had to raise his eyebrow at) and- from this angle, Shouichi couldn't see the other's eyes (actually he can only see one eye and even that only partially because of white bagns falling over the other's face) well, but he thought he caught a glimpse of purple as well, and those have to be contacts because that was not natural at all.

Tattered clothes only strengthened the image of a rebel, of a child that had grown up in the streets, and Shouichi turned his head back to his own textbook, though his shoulders were tense and back hunched.

After a few minutes, his muscles relax even though the sitting position was quite painful (nothing he wasn't used to, however), and he never noticed the purple eyes slowly, slowly

like a predator that has just found its pretty and vulnerable prey

turn to look at Shouichi, and there was a strange glimmer in those eyes as they took in Shouichi's hunched and maybe even outright pathetic appearance.

The white-and-purple man smiled slowly before turning away.

Not yet.

Several Fridays later (and several quiet study sessions with that pale-haired student that was actually not a stranger if Shouichi stopped to think about it), the silence between them broke all of a sudden, like a rope snapping in half after long-lasting pressure from both ends.

So, it went like this – Shouichi sat uncomfortably on his chair (his on Fridays, someone else's on other days), legs pulled up and a book perching on his knees, and he was just about to flip a page and start another chapter of his high-level physics textbook, this time on astronomy, which was a required part on his degree.

(Honestly, it was all sort of fascinating, especially the theory on black holes.)

As Shouichi flipped a page, there was a movement at his side, which he blatantly ignored – who would bother him, anyway? He didn't have friends, and university students at the very least were above bullying.

"Hello~."

Maybe it would be too drastic to say, but this was the moment – the exact moment – when Shouichi's life took a change. For the better, or for worse, that was not known at this time.

"Irie Shouichi-kun."

The call of his name managed to tug Shouichi out from the basics of astronomy – the planets, the solar system, the galaxies – and back to this moment on this particular planet.

He raised his head, his body hunching forward as he hugged his book to his chest, and looked at the face of Byakuran Gesso, one of the exchange students just like Shouichi but, unlike Shouichi, Byakuran was actually popular with his cheery, overly friendly demeanour.

And, Shouichi awkwardly noted as he shifted his legs, he was very, very handsome.

As someone who had recently realized his not-so-mainstream sexuality, meeting someone like Byakuran was very... awkward, to say the least, because what were the chances of him even being homosexual or even bisexual in the first place?

Shouichi didn't mind, but it was awkward – he was just as hormonal as some of the others, and he definitely wasn't above feeling attraction.

But this – Shouichi pursed his lips in distraught and dismay – this was too much.

"Hello," he ended up stuttering out loud anyway, shyly and clumsily, only afterwards hating his own hesitance. But this was normal, again – this feeling of apprehension towards Byakuran Gesso, one of the popular students that could hold the world in his palms if he wanted to if the university life spoke anything of what future would hold – this nervousness he felt was normal.

"How-" he started, licking at his dry lips, as he shifted back on his chair, nearly falling in the process.

Byakuran's mirthful eyes crinkled and glimmered and his smile revealed those nice dimples he showed off to girls and guys alike.

Shouichi knew of Byakuran, of course, but he had never bothered looking at him, and this was-

"It's hard not to," Byakuran said, flippantly and airily as if it was the simplest and most natural thing in the world – as if it was obvious that he would know Shouichi's name and face. "Irie-kun has quite the reputation, after all."

The use of honorifics and the gradual slip into Japanese made Shouichi feel a little more at ease, but at the same time, it did not because his throat had gone drier than any desert and his heart was pounding because it was not usual for anyone other than Spanner (who was gone, not even in the same continent as Shouichi) to regard him with anything else than disinterest and indifference.

Shouichi sobered up quickly, and his lips set on a firm line.

(At this point, maybe he should remember that letter about befriending Byakuran Gesso.)

"What kind of reputation?" Shouichi asked out of morbid curiosity, and then he shut his mouth because, honestly, he should already know what others think of him.

It didn't matter.

Byakuran pulled his chair closer – too close, Shouichi noted, but as long as his personal bubble wasn't further invaded, he could live – before tucking his fingers underneath his own pallid face and peered at Shouichi as though he was an interesting specimen of some kind of experiment. Purple eyes practically sparkled with interest and curiosity, and it was actually rather pretty, and Shouichi thought he could understand a little bit why someone would fall for Byakuran.

With pretty white-purplish-white hair and with a gaze more bewitching than even the most alluring models', it was not hard to understand.

Byakuran stared at him with The Look – seducing, captivating, genuinely interested and curious gaze – and Shouichi had to remind himself that Byakuran did this to everyone as far as he knew (and he knew, even against his own will, because some things could not be ignored).

"The reputation," Byakuran's voice was quiet and low, as expected within the narrow corners of the library, "of being a genuine genius, Irie-kun."

And no matter how much flattery Shouichi has heard before (from middleschool classmates, from high school teacher, from university professors), they all lose to this single sentence from the man that he didn't even know.

So, of course, he flushed and stubbornly hid his face behind his book, eyes cast down even though the book shielded his face already. "People exaggerate," he said stiffly, in a low, awkward murmur.

There was a moment of silence, and then Byakuran burst into a brilliant, bright, exuberant smile that could light up the whole room, mostly because of the sparkling white teeth that peeked from underneath the pale pink lips.

"Let me form my own opinion of that," Byakuran crooned, and leaned forward and destroyed whatever pretenses of personal space they had. "Shou-chan."

Byakuran, Shouichi learned, was every bit of charming as the rumours and appearances said – or this, at least, had been his very first impression of the white-purple-white student (Business student, as Byakuran himself said before waving it off like it was nothing), but that first impression was quickly crumbled when Byakuran forcibly integrated himself deeply into Shouichi's daily routines before and after classes.

"Byakuran-san," Shouichi said slowly, tightly holding onto his backpack as he headed away from the dorms, Byakuran by his side like a loyal St. Bernard, except a lot bouncier and far more dazzling than any dog. "You really don't need to escort me to my classes."

He didn't mention how these little instances made his stomach squeeze uncomfortably, or how his heart jolted a little bit when their hands brushed together, or how he tensed when their shoulders bumped together accidentally.

He didn't mention these, but he was painfully aware that his expressions, painfully honest as they were, showed every little bit of it.

It was not as much the case of attraction as it was of being irrationally conservative when it came to personal bubbles and touches that he didn't want.

(Mostly because Byakuran's touches, intentional or not, lingered just a moment too long, especially as of late – maybe it was because Byakuran seemed to realize how much Shouichi disliked that.)

"That's nonsense," Byakuran simply waved Shouichi's words off, a smile brighter than the sun on his lips and arms swaying at his sides. "I won't be seeing Shou-chan before this afternoon, and that's just an awful long time without seeing Shou-chan's pretty face."

Shouichi spluttered at the words, his hold on the strap of his backpack tightening as he quickened his steps. Nonsense, Byakuran was utter nonsense. Everything Byakuran uttered was nonsensical, made no sense, and Shouichi – all logic and zero social skill – didn't get him.

"There's lunch break," Shouichi reminded him, only to realize what he had said and mentally hit himself. He didn't need to give Byakuran chances – not this childish, clinging, unnerving man. Not this person that glittered like a star and that clearly belonged to a different galaxy than Shouichi.

"And please don't call me pretty," Shouichi added as an afterthought, both annoyed and flustered by the adjective that was not meant to be used of men – especially not the normal guys that had gotten an acne when they were fourteen and hadn't quite managed to get rid of it before university.

Byakuran, however, only heard the invitation, and his face lit up brilliantly. "Oh, so I can come to get Shou-chan out for lunch today?" Byakuran's hand intentionally brushed against Shouichi's – warm skin on warm skin, soft against soft – and Shouichi couldn't quite bring himself to force the hand away.

(You should, a whisper from the back of his mind uttered. Maybe this is just an intricate plan to make fun of you like in high school.)

"I didn't say that-" Shouichi protested, anxious because their recent outings had already gotten some attention from the student population.

"I'll come to pick you up, then!" Byakuran grinned – bright, white teeth peeking out – and Shouichi didn't find the words or the will to say no. Not that Byakuran would have listened, in the first place.

Not that Shouichi exactly wanted to say no, in the first place... "You have advanced physics before lunch, yeah~?"

Shouichi managed a small nod, and the deal was sealed.

Byakuran, eccentric as he was, became his best friend – but by no means was he Shouichi's only friend for long. Time went by, and while he still didn't have many friends, he had a few good ones, though Byakuran, as cliche as it was, outshone the others by far.

Byakuran was like the North Star – blinding, bright, illuminating.

(The North Star actually lost in brightness – for it was rankly only the 50th star when it came to brightness – and Shouichi dryly – foolishly, naively – thought that there was nothing that could match that smile which Byakuran wore around him effortlessly, naturally.)

While Byakuran was insufferable at best and outright brat at worst, Shouichi couldn't (wouldn't) push him away after the first few attempts that had ended up being ignored by Byakuran, who was surprisingly intent on getting his friendship.

(And Shouichi couldn't resist – not when he felt wanted.)

(It was an intoxicating, invigorating feeling.)

Where there was inexplicable warmth (irritation, exasperation, exhilaration), there was also bone-chilling coldness (numbness, indifference, depression) that was just as consuming as the stomach-twirling flutter and hot blush that painted his cheeks and tips of ears.

There were days where he laughed with Byakuran – there were days where he'd exasperatedly swat Byakuran's arms away from his waist and shoulders because, honestly, Byakuran was way too handsy – there were days where Shouichi talked vividly about everything and anything, one of his favoutire subjects being cosmos because somehow astronomy had become his newest obsession in physics.

And then there were days like this one – days when he couldn't get himself up from the bed, days when he simplay lay underneath the covers and hugged one of his pillows against his chest, days when even music wasn't enough of an escape.

Days when he simply was too tired to get up out of bed and go to classes.

(Exhaustion piles up on him – he dedicates himself to studies that he still likes less than music – and then it takes its toll on him, wears him out, and leaves him a mess.)

(He knows it's a little pathetic, but he can't help it. He simply rolls onto his other side, abandons his pillow and clutches his stomach instead.)

This was one of those days where he buried himself into the warmth of his blankets, with no music blaring into his hears from the headphons, and simply listened to the rustling of the sheets underneath his body and his own inhales and exhales that formed almost mesmerizing rhythm.

Sometimes, when thins got this hard, Shouichi silently wondered if he had made the right choice in choosing engineering over music – if giving up that dream had been the right choice.

Why had he given up, in the first place?

He couldn't remember – his mind went completely blank when he tried to search for a reason as to why he had cast his guitar aside for good.

Shouichi furrowed his brows a little at the train of thought he hadn't been on for months now; he rarely reminisced back to his adolescent dreams (though he hardly was an adult now either), but once he started, it was hard to stop, and along with the memories of countless practice sessions came the insecurity.

What would he do once he graduated from university?

"You weren't in your classes today, Shou-chan," was the first thing Shouichi heard when he stirred from his unpleasant, squirm-worthy dream.

Warm, tickling breath against the crook of his neck was the first sensation – closely followed by the quickly rising heat on his cheekbones once he realized that it was Byakuran breathing against his neck, that Byakuran was in the same bed as him, and his stomach grumbled in weak nausea.

"I was worried," Byakuran continued, and his arms around Shouichi's waist tightened as Byakuran nuzzled against Shouichi's neck, nose poking into the tousled red hair. "Shou-chan never skips, even when I try to get him out to relax once in a while."

Shouichi smiled weakly at that – Byakuran, despite his tenaciousness, had never quite managed to get him to skip any classes, despite the several attempts – before he made an attempt to squirm away from the hold that felt too hot against his stomach. (Hot like the flares of the sun, or any star. Hot like supernova- but that thought was depressing, because the explosion of a star meant the death of the star, and-)

"Please leave," Shouichi mumbled stiffly, voice ragged and sleepy as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, swatting Byakuran's arms away and ignoring the insistent blush on his face that came from the fact that Byakuran had been worried about him.

(It's what best friend feels for the other, he reminded himself, firmly.)

"Nah," Byakuran chirped – he was unreasonable like that, and sometime he got on Shouichi's nerves, but right now Shouichi was just... tired. Weary. Unsure like he always was when he started wondering about his future.

(He wasn't too interested in getting into a large company or business – he didn't know what he wanted from his future.)

"Shou-chan looks kinda sick, so I wanna be here to take care of him." Byakuran, too, sat up, and leaned over until his forehead pressed against the back of Shouichi's shoulder, arms draping themselves over Shouichi's waist again.

Indiscernible to Shouichi's eyes, Byakuran smiled – lips twisting nastily before setting into a pleasant, lovable grin. "You see," Byakuran murmured, "Shou-chan looks kind of lonely right now, too, and I don't want him to feel that way." Byakuran's nose nuzzled at Shouichi's sweaty shoulder, sniffing around like a hound, and something within Shouichi recoiled.

"Your roommate is really mean to leave you alone too," Byakuran added before Shouichi got the chance, and the arms tightened around him noticeably.

(Possessive – jealous – vindictive. Angry.)

If it were me, I wouldn't leave Shou-chan alone when he feels like crap were the unsaid words that hung in the air, and Shouichi could feel his heart clenching in his chest and he could feel the palms of his hands sweating a bit and he could feel a myriad of other physical reactions, but most of all-

-most of all, he felt gratitude.

"I won't leave Shou-chan alone," Byakuran promised against the skin of Shouichi's neck, lips moving gently and slowly, languid and dangerous at the same time.

(His charm had always been his greatest weapon, Shouichi finds himself thinking.)

"Because Shou-chan is my dearest friend."

And Shouichi believed him – swiftly, he turned around, and hugged Byakuran tightly while his throat constricted and while this was an unrelated matter from his thoughts, he felt better knowing that Byakuran was there, would be there for him.

Byakuran froze for the briefest of moments – genuine surprise? - but he returned the embrace, more tightly if that was possible, and brushed his lips against Shouichi's cheek.

(Kiss on the cheek – we're friends, Shouichi thinks and smiles at the sentiment even as his cheeks burn at the affections he's so unused to.)

If Shouichi was a moon, then Byakuran was the planet the moon orbited.

Within two weeks after Shouichi's rare off day, Byakuran moved in – and Shouichi's (former) roommate mysteriously disappeared. Only from the dorm room, though; Shouichi occasionally caught glimpses of Tom (one of the few friends he had) in the campus later on.

Byakuran moved in quickly, with swiftness Shouichi hadn't expected, though he knew Byakuran was happy to get to live with his Shou-chan. Byakuran's words, not his.

It was worrisome, a bit, since Tom at least had been a fellow engineering student, but when Byakuran flashed him a grin from the other side of the room-

(and Shouichi's heart went

thump-thump-thump)

-and Shouichi smiled, awkwardly and tightly and wearily, knowing that this was going to be either the best time of his life or the worst time of his life.

And you know?

He was willing to bet it would be the first one .

If Byakuran is the North Star, what is Shouichi?

Is he the lost traveler looking up to the sky, looking for the star and its guidance, anxious when he doesn't find the star?

Is he the traveler that breathes out a sigh of relief when the star peeks out from below the carpet of clouds?

The traveler now has found his substitute for a compass and finds his way to his destination.

(It's stupid, it's cliche, it's way too much, but Shouichi thinks that everything's finally setting into their right places with Byakuran in his life.)

(A voice, far back in his mind, whispers – this is your first love.)

Byakuran had the personality that attracted people to him like moths to the flame, and Shouichi knew this, and that had perhaps been one of the reasons he had been so wary of Byakuran at first – honestly, Byakuran didn't need him when he had all those other people to chatter with, to party all night long if he so wanted.

But, now that his first preconceptions had been shattered, Shouichi could see it – he could see the way Byakuran's eyes looked at him when their gazes met.

(Heck, he could feel that gaze on him, intense in all the wrong and good kind of ways, and that sent tingles across his skin.)

(But as lovestruck as he was, he didn't – wouldn't – say anything.)

Even now, in the midst of people in a club where bright lights fluttered across the room, reflected from the large crystal-like ball, Shouichi could feel Byakuran's eyes flickering to him every now and then, but the redhead pointedly ignored that as he wondered, not for the first time, just why he had given into Byakuran (and partially Tom's) persistence on dragging him along to the recently established club.

But he knew why, and there was no use trying to lie to himself about it.

With a sigh, Shouichi brought a glass to his lips and sipped as the beat of the music drummed against his ears, reverberated in his body, and Shouichi almost nodded along to the song, though it wasn't the type he was into.

He had been abandoned in the corner of the club, not that he minded – he had a whole table to himself, and he could almost relax, though that was more due to the alcohol in his veins than him loosening up.

In fact, he felt a little dazed, and he blinked as he heard a burst of rambunctious laughter coming from a nearby table where Byakuran and his other close friends sat and drank, chatted and gossiped.

And in his tipsy state, he started thinking silly thought, conjuring up mental images that he had not allowed himself to think about.

Maybe – maybe it wasn't so bad, maybe he could actually say those three words to Byakuran and just maybe Byakuran would say them back-

(honestly, you know the way he looks at you)

-but Shouichi quickly shook his head.

You're drunk, he told himself as a familiar heat rose to his cheeks, and he hoped it was just the alcohol. You should just act like the responsible guy you are and leave, Byakuran-san can get back on his own.

He reminded himself of the latest project for the upcoming science affair, and how the deadline was coming up, and that made him set his drink down and take a deep inhale before moving his hands to push himself up from the cozy sofa.

A song switched to another, faster one, and Shouichi's head spun a little, or was it the room that was spinning and blurring on its own, colours melting together into a colourful mess that hurt his eyes?

"Care to dance?"

Shouichi blinked, in a daze, before focusing his gaze. "I don't dance, Byakuran-san," he managed to stutter, voice thick and slurring. Then, he blinked. "Weren't you dancing with-?"

Byakuran cut him off by grabbing Shouichi by the wrist. "Don't be such a spoil sport, Shou-chan~," Byakuran's own voice was light and breathless and- his breath smelled.

Another hand went down to Shouichi's hip, and even on his tipsy – no, he corrected himself, I'm clearly drunk – state, the touch felt uncomfortably intimate, and though he was used to Byakuran and swatting him away when the other grew too opportunistic, he didn't push away.

He blamed it on his malfunctioning, jelly-like limbs.

"Dance with me," Byakuran said, voice husky and low and demanding, and purple eyes peered at him, gleaming under the fluorescent lights. "Dance with me, Shou-chan," he repeated softly, the hand on Shouichi's hip now moving to the small of Shouichi's back, gingerly rubbing over the fabric of Shouichi's favourite band shirt.

"No," was what Shouichi should have said.

"Okay," was what he said instead, stomach fluttering and heart stammering in his chest and no, he was not in love at all.

They're both young, like newborn stars, and there's stardust and wonder everywhere.

...

Choice was their favourite pastime activity – at least, for Shouichi, it was. Byakuran, probably, enjoyed teasing Shouichi (more like harassment, Shouichi often mused to himself, flustered or not) more than he enjoyed the game itself, but...

Shouichi furrowed his brows as he contemplated his next move. His Target was in danger – Byakuran would reach it within the next three moves if he didn't do something and soon – and Shouichi shifted as his eyes analyzed the battlefield.

Byakuran sat on the other side of the table, arms crossed behind his head, purple eyes on Shouichi instead of the gameboard.

Leering – staring– inspecting.

Thinking.

Lips twitched into a smile just as Shouichi made his move.

In the end, Shouichi wins that game, but who's going to win the (future, upcoming, inevitable) war?

black hole
n.

1. a theoretical massive object, formed at the beginning of the universe or by the gravitational collapse of a star exploding as a supernova, whose gravitational field is so intense that no electromagnetic radiation can escape.

2.a void into which things vanish permanently.

Byakuran traced a finger over Shouichi's cheekbone, down to the corner of his lips, and smiled, widely as always, not caring that Shouichi was busy studying – as always.

Shouichi frowned – but having learnt that paying attention to Byakuran only made the other more insufferable, he decided to ignore him.

No matter how a-thump his heart went because of Byakuran, he just wanted to study.

So, the strng theory...

Byakuran's palm came to rest on his cheek fully, fingertips drumming below Shouichi's glasses.

S-, T-, and U-dualities...

Byakuran's breath against his cheek, another hand on Shouichi's knee. Both of them sitting on Shouichi's bed.

They relate seemingly different quantities-

Why was Byakuran sitting on his bed with him? Hadn't he said that he had been meaning to go out again for whatever business he had been doing a lot lately?

The strings of Shouichi's thoughts loosened and got tied up with one another as the hand on his cheek moved to the crook of his neck instead, cupping his neck as Byakuran blew into Shouichi's ear.

Oh God.

"Byakuran-san," Shouichi said, annoyed as he closed the book with an audible thump. "I thought you were going somewhere."

A smile curled Byakuran's lips as Shouichi turned to look, and white bangs swayed as Byakuran leaned his head back a little.

Shouichi, not for the first time, was both annoyed and unnerved by the lack of respect for his personal space.

"Nah," Byakuran murmured, "I actually have something I want to ask Shou-chan." The hand on Shouichi's knee advanced to the thigh, and Shouichi agitatedly swatted the wandering limb away, even though-

Shouichi raised an eyebrow, wary as he shifted away from the tender touches that screamed words that Byakuran's lips hadn't uttered.

"I'm busy," Shouichi tried, thinking fifteen excuses as to why he wouldn't go out to pizza with Byakuran right now and ten excuses for why he wouldn't go out clubbing with Byakuran (even though whining was sure to ensue).

"Just hear me out, Shou-chan," Byakuran grinned, eyes alight with anticipation and expectancy, and he tugged the book away from Shouichi's arms before carelessly tossing it to the other side of their shared dorm room (earning an indignant yelp from Shouichi).

"I've been thnking about how to tell Shou-chan this without scaring him," Byakuran started slowly once he had gained Shouichi's full, reluctant attention.

"You see," Byakuran coughed, the smile on his lips widening just a little bit until it turned into a toothy smirk.

"I'm the boss of an Italian mafia."

Three months later after joining Byakuran's Family, his memories returned.

Nothing was the same after that.

Graduation came and passed, and it didn't really matter. He didn't have any family to celebrate with anyway as they were all the way back in Japan, back home where Shouichi wouldn't be going back anytime soon.

It was the night before they'd head to Italy – Shouichi and Byakuran, together – and after months of pining after Byakuran, it all came together, but...

Everything his mind had played to him – soothing touches, words of sweetness, liplocks – was there, but...

But it was all so very wrong.

Byakuran's kisses tasted like the sweetest poison – lethal in its addictive taste – and touches were like the gentlest scrape of a knife that still left him bleeding.

"You see, Shou-chan," Byakuran whispered over his skin, "I have a dream."

Thud-thud-thud.

Shouichi sucked in a breath. Oh, he knew, he knew – the perks of being Byakuran's best friend and now... now what should he call them?

"Will you help me?"

Shouichi, who tasted nothing but ash, blood and death from Byakuran's kiss, nodded weakly, arms wound around Byakuran. He knows of Byakuran's ability, he has seen Byakuran doing it; it was all so very worrisome.

"Of course, Byakuran-san," Shouichi said against the lips that spoke of death and destruction in so many other universes.

His heart, traitorously, fluttered when Byakuran deepened to kiss – it traitorously pounded when Byakuran whispered those three words that had been waiting to be said.

...

Love – it's a four-letter word.

Imagine his surprise when he learned that the skinny 14-year-old Sawada Tsunayoshi whose bicycle Shouichi had once upon a time fixed was the boss of the esteemed Vongola Famiglia.

Imagine his dismay when he was told that Vongola was precisely the Family Byakuran was after.

Imagine the way Shouichi balled his hands into fists before contacting Tsunayoshi and the way sweat rolled down his face as he tried not to be found out.

Imagine all that and you'd still have no adequate idea of how scared Shouichi was, deep down, that this would not work, that Byakuran would find out.

You'd still have no idea how painfully, tangibly in love he was with the harbinger of massacres.

It was when Yuni joined Byakuran's side that Shouichi realized it.

Byakuran was neither star nor planet – he was the black hole in the center of a universe, sucking everything and all into itself; all light, hope, even future itself.

In the end, the only person he could blame was himself. For time-traveling into the future those eight times, for changing the course of Byakuran's life.

For falling for Byakuran in the first place, for still loving the monster that hid behind a facade of utmost pleasantness and sugary words that dripped with poison that would go undetected until it was too late.

For everything that was wrong in this era.

And, yet, despite all this-

"Shou-chan, I love you."

Despite all the negatives, all the suffering, all the blood, Shouichi couldn't – wouldn't – imagine a life without Byakuran in it.

With his Sun Mare Ring in his finger, Shouichi ran a hand through Byakuran's hair and, in the silence of Byakuran's private bedroom, kissed his boss, best friend, first-ever love, the supermassive black hole that had sucked him in a long time ago.

There was no escape, not from this situation, not from his feelings, not from Byakuran.