Misaki's bag bit his flesh. He hefted it higher on his shoulder. He felt like he had to lug every textbook he owned today. Oh well, these were the days when Usagi's insistence on driving him was actually useful. Funny that Usagi hadn't gotten out of the car, or at least rolled down the window to greet him yet, though. Misaki leaned forward and peered through tinted glass. No Usagi. He must have wandered off somewhere, and quite a while ago judging by the number of tickets stuck beneath the wiper.
Before he could straighten up, though, the weight of his back was gone and long arms wrapped around him. He smelled cigarette smoke and Vetyver and Usagi. When had that combination started smelling like home? Misaki hated his heart for pounding the way it did when Usagi rested his chin on his shoulder, kissed him quickly on the cheek and rumbled, "I hope you weren't waiting long?"
Misaki tried to pry the man's hands off him. "You idiot. What if someone sees?" Misaki struggled harder, but he only managed to find himself pinned against the car door. He swore he could feel the weight of eyes on him.
"Oi. kid." Akihiko growled. "You'd better not scratch my car or I'll have to punish you."
His rewards are already a torture of embarrassment. I definitely don't want to know what he thinks punishment is because there's not a chance it involves him keeping his hands to himself. Misaki stopped struggling, and Usagi finally let him go, circling the car to open the passenger door for him. "Idiot! I'm not a girl."
Usagi laughed. "I believe I'm quite intimately familiar with that fact."
Misaki felt his cheeks heat. Nice to see him in a good mood, though. "You seem happier than this morning. Did you figure out what to write for your special?"
"Why, yes. I did."
"Please tell me it doesn't involve you dressing fictional me in any weird costumes."
"Not this time, no." Usagi frowned. "Last night you finally made a meal without green peppers."
That's what you think. Misaki just smiled, though. He felt much better now that he knew he was safe from the perversions of Usagi's pen, for a little while, at least. "Hey! Usagi, you wanna carve jack-o-lanterns tonight?"
"I've never done that before." Usagi looked intrigued.
"It's easy, and it's really fun. I'll get everything ready, so finish your work quickly, okay?"
Akihiko couldn't help smiling as Misaki practically bounced out of the elevator when it reached the lobby. Wouldn't two pumpkins be a lot to carry, though? He reached out and stopped the door from closing. "Misaki, can you carry those back without help?"
The boy looked chagrinned. When he got excited, he didn't always think ahead.
"Come on. Let's go together."
"Don't look so condescending, old man. You'll be begging for my help later. I'm like the pumpkin carving master, you know. I won the community center competition every year." It was all Akihiko could do not to grab Misaki and kiss him right there in the middle of the street. His blustering young pride was too cute.
After returning, Akihiko retreated to his office to write. Thank goodness he'd made that call to Kusama. He'd really just been trying to stop Hiroki's prying, but it really had helped. He had the whole short story done, revised, and emailed to Aikawa in under two hours.
"You can't wear that." Misaki eyed Akihiko's suit.
"Why not?" Misaki himself was dressed in pajama pants and an oversized old sweatshirt that Akihiko recognized as once belonging to Takahiro.
"Because your going to get squash guts all over yourself. Wear something that is okay to get dirty." He'd have just thrown out these clothes if they got too messed up. There wasn't anything special about them. Misaki would definitely yell at him if he said that though.
Akihiko dug in his closet for something that Misaki would find appropriate. He discarded his whole wardrobe seasonally to some charity. Wait. He'd covered half his bedroom floor with the contents of his closet before he found what he was looking for. Akihiko hadn't worn these particular jeans in years. They'd been a gift from Isaka, of all people, and he could only recall leaving the house in them once. He'd attracted a rather unnerving amount of attention.
With how well Misaki's been feeding me, I hope they still fit. Akihiko was amazed that they went on just fine, but he supposed he'd been drinking a lot less these days, and he certainly got more exercise than he ever had. Screwing counted as cardio, right? And Misaki, for his small stature, was really quite solid and surprisingly heavy to be hauling around all the time the way he did. Akihiko turned in the mirror. He shimmied his hips until the waistband sat just so. He pulled discarded his jacket, shirt, and tie, leaving just a short-sleeved undershirt. Yes. I've definitely still got it. In fact, Akihiko, pulled up his shirt and evaluated his abs. Yes, he looked even better than he had five years ago. Slashes in the denim revealed flashes of pale skin, one of which was high enough up on the back of his thigh that depending on how he moved, a careful observer might catch a brief glimpse of the bare curve of his ass. Yes. This would be fun. Let's see Misaki try to pretend he's not interested in this.