A/N: Ahhh… So, uh, has it really been four months since my last update? ._.

To be honest, this chapter is not where I wanted to end it, but I feel really guilty about the wait, so I tried to end it somewhere where it kind of made sense? And so here you go. ._.

I'm trying to get back into the swing of things, so updates should become more regular now. Not once-a-week regular, as those days are gone with my job now, but routine enough that I won't feel guilt for a thousand years.

So you know and perhaps it might reassure some of you, I was never on a hiatus from writer's block or lack of motivation or anything like that. I was just busy, heh. ^^;; So none of you will have to worry about that. And I thank all of you for your kind words and patience!

Next chapter will be more shenanigans, but for now, enjoy a nice overdose of fluff.

Enjoy.

Well, this was supremely awkward.

Honestly, Momo wasn't expecting much, but okay, maybe hefigured he'd get a little bit more than a simple oh. Like an embarrassed smile or something—ideally a me, too, but not a somewhat registered oh. Still, things like this happened all the time, right? Especially in shoujo manga, which Momo read occasionally whenever a chapter of some series popped up in a serial magazine—not on purpose, just it was there, you know? So, this was a scene he knew all too well. The confessor throws caution to the wind and lays it all out there, and sometimes the love interest doesn't know what to say. A typical cliché. Nitori was the cautious type, after all. Technically an oh wasn't a rejection.

And yet, despite the fact that Momo had seen this scene play out a thousand times before with happy endings and everything, despite the fact that he was literally kissing Nitori a couple seconds ago, despite the fact that it had justdawned on him that maybe he liked his senpai, maybe he had feelings, maybe this was something he wanted, but certainly not something he had been dwelling on for months or anything—despite the fact that this was a lighthearted confession, when Nitori said oh,it hurt. This was, perhaps, the first time Momotarou Mikoshiba had ever felt… foolish. Imagine that.

"If… if you don't feel the same way…" So Momo tried to save face and said, "It's okay."

"Huh?" Nitori snapped back to reality. "No, no! That's not what I meant!"

See, Nitori was merely trying to catch up with the events that had just played out before his eyes. Today was a day of many firsts, after all. First time he had ever broken into a building. First time he had hopped a fence, running away from authorities. First time he kissed someone, which served as a double whammy as it was also the first time he kissed a boy. In the spectrum of living a grand life, Nitori had accomplished more in the past forty minutes than all sixteen years he had ever lived.

It was, in short, a little overwhelming.

"I don't know what to say… I've never been confessed to before," Nitori said, his hands fiddling with each other behind his back. His word choice was poor, that he realized, but when Nitori said oh, it acted like a checkpoint in his head. All that comfort he felt around Momo that he had questioned, that he had wondered why he enjoyed it and missed it—well, it all seemed so obvious now, a literal dawning before their sunrise setting, an epiphany, an oh.

"You could say how…" Momo fidgeted in place, mumbling, "you feel."

But what did Nitori feel? If he thought about it, then yeah, okay, maybe Nitori was oddly open-minded about doing, uh, stuff with Momo, considering it felt nice to kiss him, cuddle with him, sleep… with him, be… with him? This felt strange, the kind of strange that made him want to squeeze his heart out of existence so that he didn't have to wonder what it would be like to have Momo call him Ai.When did the intimacy start to feel so normal?

He took a deep breath and said, "Okay."

Momo didn't quite catch that, and so he uttered an eager, "Huh?"

Nitori had to say it out loud, which made him fidget, his foot rubbing his ankle from behind as he deliberated how to go about responding. Did he like Momo? Well, yes, he liked him, but did he like him? Did having his heart flutter and skip mean he liked Momo? Probably. That seemed cliché enough. But sometimes his kouhai was too annoying, but in a silly way—not an infuriating way, like an endearing way, a charming way, a—wait. Was he making excuses to convince his own damn self that Momo wasn't annoying? Because he was. He definitely was. Nitori was essentially on the verge of getting stomach ulcers over Momotarou's madness, that's how annoying he was.

And yet, as Nitori felt the piercing gaze of Momo go through him in hopes of an answer, he couldn't help but think, but he means well, that he was sweet, that he was dorky, and crazy, and very loud, but fun and… oh.

His ears blushed as it settled in, and so he nodded and said, "I think I like you," and looked straight down at the ground, "too."

"Ye—yeah?" Momo blurted, his chest jutting forward, which he pulled back and cleared his throat before answering calmly, "Th—that's cool."

Still looking down at the ground, Nitori gave a flustered nod as he said, "Uh-huh."

One would think after having mutual confessions that these two numbskulls would giddily embrace and proceed to enjoy a happy ending, but that would imply that they knew what they were doing, which they did not. Not even in the slightest. As they stood in front of each other, digesting the fact that they both kind of dug each other in that way, they tried to remember the basic things: how to breathe, the Japanese language, the laws of physics as to prevent themselves from falling to the ground, their own names. You know.

And when they looked at each other, they wondered, so, what now?

"Want," Momo broke the silence, "to get breakfast?"

All this excitement did stir up Nitori's appetite, but there was the harsh reality before them, and so he said, "We can't. We… probably can't ever return to the cafeteria, actually."

"Oh, right."

"Yeah."

They looked at each other, smiles creeping onto their faces.

So this was what it was like being fugitive lovers, they thought.

It felt kind of nice.

"You think it's too late in the school year to cancel our meal plan?" Momo said, as both he and Nitori stood in front of the chalkboard menu of a diner down the street from the school.

Nitori opened the door, sighing, "Probably."

Now that they had royally fucked themselves over with essentially banning themselves from the cafeteria—at least, until the cafeteria staff forgot their entire existence—Momo and Nitori found themselves sitting at a booth across from each other at six-thirty in the morning on a Tuesday. They had to figure out their life now in terms of what they could eat, which at this rate amounted to just cereal and instant ramen. And rice. Nitori vaguely knew how to cook rice. But only in a rice cooker. Better than nothing, right?

They agreed to invest in a rice cooker this afternoon.

Not even an hour after mutual confessions, and the two were already thinking about buying kitchen appliances together.

"We're going to be okay, Nitori-senpai," Momo chimed as he observed the laminated menu in his hands. "I could keep dancing in the streets on the weekends for grocery money."

"Oh my god," Nitori groaned. "Don't make it sound like you're whoring yourself out."

"I'm just saying, I can provide for the both of us."

Gah, that was too sweet and too embarrassing, Nitori thought, trying not to smile or blush or give any sort of fuel to Momo's whims as they looked over various types of breakfast omelets. Not that Nitori was actually reading the menu, rather he was just staring at it and trying not to think too much about kissing Momo and failing hardcore at trying not to think too much about kissing Momo and wondering holy shit, how could he have kissed Momo and liked it and like him and confess that and accept that? And more importantly, how could he sit across from Momo at the booth and still act cool and collected and capable of breathing? Was this real? Was this actual life? Was this some incredibly lucid dream, playing out an odd fantasy Nitori apparently had about ordering eggs at a diner after making out with his roommate? No, that would be far too specific. This was happening.

Oh god, this was happening.

What does one do now that they might potentially be in a relationship? Were they dating? Were they just kissing? Were they testing things out? It had never occurred to Nitori just how many levels of layers were involved in liking someone and how torturous it could be. Sure, they established mutual feelings, but what did "like" mean anyway? It wasn't as strong as love. They weren't in love. Well, it wasn't as if they couldn't fall in love, but not so soon. That'd be crazy. This whole thing was crazy.

Nitori looked over his menu at Momo, who smiled, his eyes beaming with his usual overconfidence and exuberant effervescence.

Oh god, there was a distinct possibility Nitori could fall in love with Momo and that shit was crazy.

"Know what you're going to order?" Momo asked.

"Huh?" Nitori shook his head, avoiding eye contact. "Yeah, sort of."

But alas, Nitori was not the only one going through a fit of butterflies, as Momo reevaluated himself as a person. Considering his failed attempts at nabbing the heart of Gou Matsuoka, Momotarou was no stranger to rejection and he was all too aware of Nitori-senpai's admiration towards Rin Matsuoka and, on some level, Sousuke Yamazaki. But he had one thing: Nitori's reciprocation. Now was the time to solidify everything. He needed to build muscle. Establish dominance. Roar in the faces of his inferiors. Become a man.

Or maybe not, now that he thought about it. They had more of a comfort-lust going on apparently, what with their nightly cuddles-to-sleep gig as of late. Maybe all he needed to do was provide his senpai with safety. And he was reallygood at taking care of his beetles, so it was practically the same. Momo would be the best boyfriend, like mega boyfriend—wait, was it all right that he was calling himself a boyfriend?

"We need to go on a date," blurted Momo, a little ahead of his thoughts as he set the menu down and confronted Nitori, who froze.

"Uh," Nitori hesitated, "Shouldn't we order breakfast first?"

"I'm serious, Nitori-senpai."

"Okay, but," Nitori pointed at his menu, "after breakfast."

"Awesome, great. Are you free today?"

"Momo."

"Oh, wait, no, we can't. I still have to make cranes, okay," Momo shook his head. "Are you free tomorrow?"

After a moment of thought, Nitori answered, "Oh… no, I'm not. I have to choose a cake with Hazuki Nagisa tomorrow for the party."

"Okay, then what about Thursday?"

There wasn't much of a rush to go on a date, Nitori figured, considering they saw each other every day, living together in the same dorm and all, but he supposed this seemed necessary to Momo if they were honestly taking things to the next level. But the fact of the matter was, he said, "Momo-kun, do we even have time for a date this week? What about the surprise party?"

And with no hesitation, not one bit of doubt in his tone, Momo answered, "We'll make time."

It was enough to make Nitori swoon so much that he shoved the menu over his face to hide his bashfulness. Ah, too dangerous, he thought. The distinct possibility of falling for Momo right there, right before his earnest charm, was too dangerous indeed.

Sousuke wasn't sure if he explicitly asked to be texted after Momo and Nitori dropped the cranes off in the cafeteria, but when he went to check up on them in their dorm room around six-thirty before going on his jog with Rin, there was a small cause of concern when they weren't there. It was supposed to take fifteen minutes. Where the hell could they be?

"You've been kind of tense this morning," Rin said, breaking the silence as they jogged across the beach boardwalk. "Something wrong?"

"No."

Maybe something did go wrong, Sousuke thought. Assuming they got caught, it should have still been fine. Listen, he knew the two were not the brightest buoys in the sea, so he figured he'd tip the cafeteria staff that he lent the keys to them so they could store the cranes in the freezer before their work shift. That way nobody had to freak out or anything. The staff was a little hectic in the morning, so the last thing they needed to care about was some kids trying to bring paper cranes to them in the morning. By doing it before their shift started, everything should have been fine. In retrospect, Sousuke probably should have mentioned that Momotarou and Nitori weren't doing anything wrong in the first place.

Sousuke had issues with communication. He nodded to himself. Something to work on.

"Well, you're thinking about something," Rin insisted.

"Just worried about Ai and Momo."

Rin furrowed his brows. Worried about Ai and Momo? What could that possibly mean? They were innocent dumplings, little balls of sunshine even; what could they even do that could worry—oh wait. Right, Rin realized. They started dating, doing that whole thing in bed, maybe, who knows, he didn't like to think about it. Not his business. But wait, why? Did Sousuke see something?

"Yeah, I guess they've been getting close," Rin said, trying to understand what the mystery that was his best friend meant.

"No, I think they got caught." Sousuke glanced over to Rin, realizing that this was something he shouldn't have mentioned since it involved the surprise party, so he attempted to play it off by shrugging and said, "But you don't need to worry about it."

"Got caught? The hell you mean they got caught? You mean, caught-caught?"

Holy shit, Rin panicked. He had to focus on running before literally tripping over himself at the thought of Momo and Ai getting caught doing… oh god. How did they even… When? Where? Did they even know what the hell they were doing?

"Don't worry about it," Sousuke said, realizing that he might have sent off the wrong message, which he guessed from the flabbergasted shock and awe Rin had in his eyes as he fell in deep thought. Another communication issue. Truly, something he needed to work on.

This was not something to freak out over, Rin told himself. Their lives; their decisions. It's not as if Aiichirou had become like a little brother to him, innocent and pure—because in truth, the little silver spoon knew things even Rin didn't know. Like subcultures and shit; freaky stuff. Rin remembered those magazines he once found, which he didn't ask Ai about—because frankly, that was just not a conversation he wanted to have. Bros don't ask about other bros' porn.

"I can see that you are getting the wrong idea," Sousuke said, nudging Rin's elbow as they jogged, "and I'm telling you to stop."

"What?" Rin jerked his head up. "Oh, yeah, no—no, you're right. None of my business."

"It's not even about—"

"If they want a future together, this is good. Good for them." He took a deep breath. "In some ways, I'm proud."

"Rin, that's not—"

"If I'm going to be honest, I can't help but think they're doing it right now." Rin stopped dead in his tracks. "I'm texting them."

"What?"

Did Rin feel a little bit of shame, knowing he could potentially cock-block his kouhais?

The short answer was nope.

"I can't believe you," Sousuke said, shaking his head.

What was weird was that it wasn't as if Momotarou had suddenly become more attractive to Nitori, but somehow, as the ginger boy wolfed down pickled vegetables with fried egg, he was. This was something to get used to, as Nitori observed Momo's facial features, having realized that for the longest time, his kouhai had been just a whir of a vibrant memory as opposed to a distinct, handsome face.

Somewhere, Nitori read that if you stare at someone long enough, you can trick yourself into falling in love, but he never believed it—and he still didn't—because frankly, it seemed stupid. If anything, it was less about the act of staring and more about the reason why you were doing it—that by staring at Momotarou's face, Nitori took effort in observing it, remembering it, making it important. This was the face that looked as warm as it felt on his lips.

"Can I ask you something?" Momo asked, setting his fork down. His shoulders hunched forward as he tucked his hands back into his lap. "You didn't just say you liked me because you felt bad, right?"

Momo's face had natural highlights around his eyes and cheekbones, which were actually just parts of his face that didn't tan from having worn his swimming goggles for too long. Clusters of freckles scattered like little shadows under his eyelashes, too faint to be noticed by his copper-tone skin on quick glance, and when he frowned, his lips pouted with a ruby patch peeking out. Momo was like a man born out of the sun, Nitori determined, whereas Nitori reflected the pale moon hidden in morning, peeking through clouds to watch the sun shine.

He might have been daydreaming.

"Nitori-senpai?"

"Huh?" Slowly coming out of his daze, Nitori repeated each word he vaguely heard in his head and responded, "What?"

"Uh, well." But it was clear Momo regretted saying anything, and he muttered, "Never mind."

Momo lacked the ability to think before speaking, which was the main reason for his brutal honesty and tendency to get right to the point. Maybe it was because nothing really felt different even after confessing and kissing and proposing a date, as if this was but a mere addition to their wacky routine. So, maybe it still felt unreal.

"This is going to sound stupid, but," Nitori said, looking down at the table at their meals, "I've never actually looked at your face before."

Momo didn't know how to take this.

"Um." So he paused for a moment, and then asked, "Do you… like my face?"

To which Nitori nodded casually as he ate some eggs and hummed, "Mm-hmm."

"That's cool," said Momo, who grinned, scratching his cheek with his index finger as he grew bashful for a moment. "Actually, I think you're kind of beautiful, Nitori-senpai."

How many times could Nitori's heart explode this morning, he wondered, frozen in his seat as he held his eggs with his chopsticks, mid-air. He didn't really know what to do since no one had ever been this nice to him, or rather, this romantic towards him, and Nitori only knew about shoujo's over-the-top reactions of throwing himself at Momo with open arms and poetic monologues, but that was too embarrassing and Nitori stumbled over his words too much. So he sat there, stunned, and murmured, "Momo-kun…"

And then his cell phone buzzed, scaring the shit out of him.

Now was not the time to have a surprise vibration set off next to his groin.

Fumbling inside his right pocket, Nitori pulled out his phone to read a text message from Rin that read, where are you, which concerned Nitori since it was only seven in the morning and classes didn't start for another hour, so maybe something serious had happened. He wasn't sure what, but you never know.

So in reply, Nitori very calmly wrote, NO WHERE. WHY? DID SOMETHING HAPPEN, RIN-SENPAI? IS EVERYTHING OKAY? GOOD MORNING!

Just to show he cared.

"Rin-senpai texted me," he told Momo.

"Yeah?" Momo nodded. "Tell him I say hi."

Rin texted Nitori, nothing's wrong. Are you with Momo?

And Nitori wrote, OKAY, GOOD. MOMO SAYS GOOD MORNING TOO!

It was no small secret that Nitori was a bit enthusiastic when it came to Rin, so Momo didn't pay too much attention to the fact that the conversation had switched to what Rin was texting, which seemed like an interrogation with each passing question of where they were, what were they doing, why were they doing it, how long were they going to take, could they take a photo of their food to prove they were eating food—preferably with today's newspaper?

"That's kind of an odd request," said Momo, who helped rearrange his food next to Nitori's in a manner that seemed presentable, taking care to set the little vase of flowers just to the right of their plates as a nice touch.

"Rin-senpai is a bit interested in our breakfast…" Nitori said, standing up to position his phone's camera at an eagle-eye view. "I'm sure he has his reasons."

And all seemed pretty normal until Sousuke texted Nitori, Did everything go well?

Ah.

"Um," Nitori hesitated, looking up at his kouhai, "Yamazaki-senpai just asked about the cranes…"

And immediately, Momo said, "Don't tell him."

"We have to tell him!"

"Why mention the negative? He doesn't have to know that we can't ever go back to the cafeteria," Momo said, shrugging.

The fact that Momotarou honestly believed they could hide the truth from Sousuke was pure and simple denial, mainly because the two had already made it a custom to eat with the guy every single day at the cafeteria, and it wouldn't take long for the brooding shark to connect the dots. And while Momo tried to make it a lighthearted affair, twirling his chopsticks in his hand as he brushed off the fact that they were now criminals at large, Nitori knew the truth needed to be said.

He took one moment to think and then began typing his reply as he said, "I'm telling him."

"Then, uh," Momo stammered, trying to come up with a solution, "Tell him we're dating first!"

"What? No," said Nitori, who wasn't trying to shoot the idea down, but he argued, "That won't make any sense. It'll come out of nowhere." But with such a disappointed pout from his normally energetic kouhai, he gave in and said, "Fine…"

And so, he calmly wrote Sousuke, EVERYTHING WENT HORRIBLY WRONG. WE CAN NEVER GO BACK TO THE CAFETERIA. MOMO THREW POPSICLES AT THE MANAGER. BTW, MOMO AND I KISSED. SHOULD BE OKAY, THOUGH. WE'RE BUYING A RICE COOKER. GOOD MORNING!

That should answer everything, right?

Sousuke stared down at his cell phone and sighed.

Goddamn it.