A/N: Ha, look at me updating this fic seven months later like an asshole.

Ahhhh, there are reasons, but none of it matters. I will say though, this chapter was a challenge for me to write in order to keep the tone of the fic the same. It kept trying to go in a direction I didn't want it to go every time I tried to write it, but it is what it is. I hope you guys like it. ._.

Errr, also, I suppose I will formally apologize for my potentially excessive usage of the word "dick." I think it's a funny word. I think dicks in general are funny. You'll, uh, understand what this means…

I'm so nervous about this chapter, but oh boy, are things about to get… fun.

Yeah. Fun.

Enjoy?

"They broke into the cafeteria?" yelled Rin, storming down the hallway to Nitori and Momo's room. "Why the hell would they do that? What is wrong with them?"

He stopped abruptly, turning towards Sousuke, and accused, "Did you know about this?"

And like a champ, Sousuke said, "Nope."

There was a significant amount of information Sousuke had to take in from Nitori's mission: failure text, from the fact that clearly Momo deliberately disobeyed the "no stealing food" rule to the more serious fact that Momo then decided it was a brilliant idea to throw the said stolen food at the cafeteria manager. Sousuke wasn't even going to question why. Honestly, it wasn't much of a surprise that things went horribly, horribly wrong, but he kind of hoped that maybe instead of the odds being 75% failure, it would be, oh say, 0.

The latter part of the text message, however, confused Sousuke. What did Momo and Nitori kissing have to do with buying a rice cooker? This was the question that stuck in Sousuke's mind after telling his two kouhais to head back to the dorms for a severe scolding, a scolding which begrudgingly involved Rin since he too managed to interrogate the truth out of the timid one.

Was there something romantic about buying a rice cooker? Was this a traditional gift couples bought to celebrate their relationship? Seemed a little too old fashioned for the early stages. Although, now that Sousuke thought about it, he wasn't exactly sure how long Nitori and Momo had been dating. Sure, these past few days, they had been displaying some signs here and there, but who knows how long this crazy thing had been going on. Maybe a rice cooker was a commitment thing. Rice was a symbol of marriage in some cultures.

Sousuke wondered what the chances of his underclassmen eloping today were.

Hmm.

Probably 50-50.

"Holy shit, what if they get suspended?" blurted Rin, bringing much more prevalent consequences back into Sousuke's mind as he continued to pace down the hallway to Momo and Nitori's room. He muttered to himself, "Oh, no way in hell."

Rin was a goddamn captain. This wasn't going to be the first year that freaking Samezuka Academy had not one, but two swim team members get suspended. Oh no. Not under his command. Seijuro would be scolding him for years. Ugh, he didn't even want to think about it. How could you let my little bro get suspended? You've turned the Mikoshiba name into a Mi-catastrophe. We're Mikoshibas, not Mikoshitboys.

There is nothing worse than being scolded with lousy puns.

He slammed their dorm room door open.

"YOU TWO NEED TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF RIGHT—"

But his voice hitched at the sight of a love scene about to be had.

Uhh…

Now, it wasn't as if the sight of the two numbskulls stripped down to almost nothing but their underwear was actually shocking. Years of being on several swimming teams rendered Rin desensitized to male nudity, but by the proximity of their crotches as Nitori sat on his desk spread eagle while Momo clutched onto his senpai's hips, you could say this was a little scandalous for his eyes.

Color Momo volcanic, though, because his torso blushed from his head to his groin, with a slight implication that blood was beginning to rush somewhere else. Frozen, Momo stared straight at his exhibitionist lover, refusing to break eye contact. A hint of determination seemed to calm Nitori as he nodded and grunted a quick un, just before the two of them smashed their lips together to seal the deal, an erotic tongue swap fiercer than a python battle.

But never mind that.

There was an explanation for all this.

Fifteen minutes earlier, both Nitori and Momotarou were appropriately clad and completely unaroused—they were so unaroused, they were, in fact, panicking.

"How could you tell Rin-senpai we broke into the cafeteria?!" exclaimed Momo, who was pacing back and forth inside their room, awaiting the inevitable arrival of both Sousuke and Rin.

"I didn't mean to!" Nitori whined, "You know I can't keep secrets from Rin-senpai—and he kept asking. What was I supposed to say?" He sighed. ""Sorry, Rin-senpai, Momo-kun and I are never going back to the cafeteria because we want to explore our palette?' You only like junk food, Momo, so you'd make a terrible foodie!"

"Okay, first of all, how dare you," Momo said, "I would be very open-minded to the junk foods of the world, Nitori-senpai. Second, you didn't have to tell him anything!"

If they didn't come up with an excuse in the next few minutes, then the jig was up, which would have been more tragic for Momo than Nitori, considering the boy had folded hundreds upon hundreds of paper cranes, risking some pretty severe carpal tunnel syndrome. Having potentially gotten himself suspended from the cafeteria, Momotarou Mikoshiba was in too deep, and at this point really, it was a matter of principle getting to Saturday's surprise party more than anything else.

"We have to come up with something," muttered Momo, pacing around the room as he dug his fingernails into his scalp to wrangle any ideas out of his brain. "What are reasons people go to cafeterias?"

"Generally the one," Nitori answered, "to eat."

See, but they couldn't use hunger as an excuse for breaking into the cafeteria. For while they were at the diner, Rin was curious enough to ask why they even bothered to pay for food when there was free food in the cafeteria, to which Nitori straight up panicked and said, YES, THAT IS SO TRUE, BUT MOMO AND I CAN'T GO BACK TO THE CAFETERIA OR WE'LL GET ARRESTED AND I'M SO SORRY. I HOPE WE CAN STILL BE FRIENDS.

Cryptic allusions to illegal activities? Cue the interrogation. Rin demanded to know what happened. What could they have possibly done in a cafeteria to get them banned for life? And how had he not learned about this before?

Being weak, Nitori confessed, WE BROKE IN, BUT WE DIDN'T STEAL FOOD! EXCEPT POPSICLES, BUT NOT REALLY BECAUSE MOMO THREW THEM AT THE MANAGER GUY, SO THEY STILL HAVE THE POPSICLES.

And when Rin asked what they did instead of stealing food, Nitori—furthering the downward spiral—tried to play coy and texted, I CAN'T TELL YOU. GOODBYE!

Some scolding and empty threats later, this is how Nitori and Momotarou found themselves trying to come up with another excuse for why they broke into a cafeteria. But gah, Momo was coming up with nothing and there was no time! And so, from a childhood of running to his onee-chan to come up with good alibis for all his crimes, Momo took out his cell phone to text his sister.

This was going to be the second day in a row he'd ask for Yuki's help, which she'd probably use against him, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Yukiko was the kind of sibling who could get anyone out of trouble with a good enough lie—something about middle children being sneaky and cunning or whatever Freudian psychosis out there dictates, but such were the sibling dynamics. Momo got in trouble, Yuki lied her way out of trouble, which was good because if she didn't, then they both were about to be in trouble with Seijuro. Older brother don't play.

And so he texted her, hey yuki, so besides being really hungry, what's a reason why someone would break into a cafeteria? just curious

And ever timely, she responded, bro it is 7 am wtf

"Who're you texting?" asked Nitori, who lied himself on the bed, arms stretched out on his mattress crucifixion as he patiently waited for the beginning of the end. Maybe if he lied there still enough, he would just disappear.

"My sister," Momo mumbled. He knew he had to be a little patient with Yuki's answers, who liked to text in parts instead of all in one shot, for dramatic effect, to truly capture the apathy in her tone.

And as expected, she continued, uh idk sex?

This was not the kind of answer Momo was expecting.

She elaborated, one time two students got caught having sex in the cafeteria.

"What'd she say?" Nitori asked.

Momo hesitated, avoiding Nitori's gaze as he digested their possible alibi. The elements were already set up perfectly for the idea to seem plausible. Rin found them trying to hide the fact that they "slept" together, multiple people already assumed they were dating after the shower incident, and even Sousuke caught them in a suggestive position at the beach. They could use the misinterpretations to their advantage, Momo thought, observing the way Nitori lied on the bed with his arms and legs stretched out like a starfish.

So he said, "We could say we tried to fuck in the cafeteria."

Nothing was said for a moment.

"What."

"Okay, hear me out—"

"I'm sorry, what?"

Call him self-conscious, but Nitori closed his legs, crossing his knees as if to secure the mental chastity belt locked on his crotch. What kind of crazy ideas was Momo's sister giving him? That was not a solution. If anything, it was just going to get them into more trouble, and besides, he said, "We literally had our first kiss an hour ago."

"And it was the most magical experience I've ever had, Nitori-senpai, but—"

"Oh my god."

Momo knelt down on the ground, scooting closer to the edge of the bunk bed as he reached for Nitori's hands to clasp in his own. Here it comes, Nitori thought, closing his eyes to dissuade him from falling for any peach boy charm, but he knew as he felt soft finger pads tease his palms and felt the weight of Momo's elbow press down on the mattress as he leaned forward that his fate was sealed. He lied there, hand in hand with Momo, and wondered why he ever thought their relationship could develop at a normal rate.

"You and I would know the truth," Momo said, squeezing Nitori's hand, "so what does it matter?"

It mattered because Nitori didn't even like taking off his towel when he changed in the locker room, let alone hypothetically risk getting caught doing the nasty by a poor, unsuspecting cafeteria manager. Even if he had the gonads to claim he was an exhibitionist daredevil in the sheets (or should he say, out of them?), the lie would only go so far until Nitori would eventually break down and fess up the truth. And Momo was no better of a liar anyway. What with him being a stuttering, manic mess under pressure, Momo would probably at some point compare his dick to the popsicles he stole and make some ungodly pun about blueberry popsicles, more like blue-balled… test…ti…cles?

They were bound for disaster.

Momo said, "Besides, everyone already thinks we're banging anyway… You know, cause of…"

"I know," said Nitori, opening his eyes as he sat up. The last thing he wanted to do was feed fuel to the fire, and spreading a rumor about them sneaking a sexy midnight snack in the cafeteria seemed like a particularly bad idea. But he couldn't use logic with this kid. He had to go for the raw truth, and so Nitori said simply, "But we suck at lying."

A fact Momo did not consider.

"Um…" He bit his lip, trying to come up with a solution.

"I mean, that's why we're in this mess," continued Nitori. "The only reason we've gotten this far without anyone finding out the truth is because people keep assuming things based on whatever crazy thing they see us doing."

Oh, but Nitori shouldn't have said that.

Because it was that statement that had a solution click inside Momo's brain. It was true. While the two numbskulls were terrible at lying, they excelled at shutting the hell up whenever someone had a better explanation for their shenanigans. Why bother confessing when someone already solved the crime, right? Momo realized the answer to their problem was not lying to Rin, but merely setting up a scene to distract him.

"Would you be against," Momo attempted to word this delicately, "getting naked with me right now?"

Nitori jerked his hand away, his eyes widening.

So perhaps things backfired a little.

"Momo-kun! What—why?!" Nitori scolded, using his feet to nudge the looney ginger away from him.

"Okay, maybe not naked," said Momo, his hands straining to keep Nitori's feet from kicking him, "but like, down to our underwear. We wouldn't be doing anything!"

"We'd be naked!"

"Mostly naked." Momo held both of Nitori's feet in his hands, spreading them to border around his face, and he said, "And posing like we're about to get our freak on—"

"Momo!"

"—but we won't get our freak on!"

If you were to tell Aiichirou Nitori that within an hour after his first kiss with his potentially first boyfriend that he was going to strip down to his boxer briefs and pose like a porno star just so his senpai could catch him in the act, like some sort of sexy Three Stooges episode, he would have brushed it off as an oddly specific slapstick fantasy. But this involved Momotarou Mikoshiba, so Nitori was not entirely surprised at how his life spiraled out of control. He just wished he could have taken his time with certain things…

If he had to pinpoint it, this whole nonsense really began with that damned shower incident a few days ago. As much as Nitori wished Momo's dick was nothing but a vague, censored memory in his mind, the fact was that one millisecond of a glimpse down at Momo's surprise package left an imprint on him, a permanent knowledge of its exact length and… girth. Ha, not that it was weird or anything, Nitori thought to himself, as if defending the honor of Momo's dick in front of a jury. It was just a dick. If had to rate it, it'd be a solid four-star dick. A respectable dick, potentially a familiar dick Nitori would come… to enjoy, maybe, who knows—not the point. Plenty of people have dicks. The point was that plenty of people have dicks and Momo was one of them. And that was o-kay.

Momo squeezed Nitori's feet as he set them back down on the bed and encouraged, "Just pretend we're in our swimsuits."

"What if we," Nitori hesitated, noticing his thoughts getting more scandalous by the second, "like in the shower when you…"

Ah, yes, the butt incident, Momo recalled. That did happen. But in his defense, Momo said, "Everything about you is beautiful, senpai." He smiled. "But I'll promise not to stare this time."

Although this was lie because Momo was always a victim of beauty, forever hypnotized and reaching out to whatever delighted his eyes, even if he saw beauty in the strangest of things. That's just who Momo was, honestly. A fan of hidden gems, like stag beetles in the wild, Momotarou Mikoshiba was the kind of guy who looked at the ground to find the real wonders of the world. Why look up at the sky when the earth held jewels beneath your feet?

The best part of stag beetle hunting, Momo felt, was never the capture. He was a human; it's not as if it was ever that hard to pick up an unsuspecting bug with his fingers. No, there's no fun in trapping prisoners. The best part of stag beetle hunting was finding a beauty hidden between shadows, watching it shimmer in the sunlight as he brushed the blades of grass away and lent out his palm before it. The beetle would hesitate and twitch its feelers toward his fingers, and for a moment, Momo would stare with the bug—a giant force of excitement and a tiny ounce of hope—and hold his breath as the stag took its first steps onto his hand. Ah, yes, the best part of stag beetle hunting was finding a new friend.

And here was his senpai, Aiichirou Nitori, a beauty between the shadows who shimmered when he smiled. His bangs tufted backwards as he lied on the bed with his back slightly arched and his hands resting by his head, palms upward. His stomach peeked from under his shirt, alluring Momo to drape himself over Nitori and take a daring position between his legs. But as he kneeled over his shy senpai, he noticed the way Nitori's fingers fiddled into the center of his palms, like twitching feelers. A great force of excitement over a tiny ounce of hope. A jewel right beneath him.

And so Momo clasped onto Nitori's left hand and murmured, "It's okay."

This was new territory for them, being so close, that their breathing hitched. Questions raced through their minds as their lips tantalized each other, an anticipating kiss just around the corner of their uncertainty. Their budded emotions blurred their thoughts. Was the gentle, teasing way Momo pulled down Nitori's pants off his hips merely an act of pretend for their upcoming decoy? Were their deepened breaths an appropriate reaction? How was it that feeling his joggers slip off his toes onto the ground shot a rushing sensation up Nitori's thighs? Truly, their acting was phenomenal.

The way Momo pulled his shirt from over his head ruffled his hair, and as he held his arms out with the sleeves still slinked on his wrists, he looked down to see Nitori's stomach blush along the center of his torso, up until where his shirt rode up to his chest. He wore lilac boy-shorts, much like his swimming trunks, but with the band of his underwear cutting just below his pelvic lines, accentuating his hips. Ah, what a sight, Momo thought as his shirt fell from his hands and onto the ground. If he didn't know any better, it was almost as if he was about to get laid.

Wait.

Was he?

"I've never done this before, Nitori-senpai," confessed Momo as he began to unbuckle his belt to take his pants off.

"M—Me neither," stuttered Nitori, whose ears reddened like strawberries ripening for spring. He tried to pull his shirt down to cover his groin, buckling his knees into Momo as he did, and looked away towards the door as he said, "But you said this was pretend, right?"

Ooohhh boy, Momo thought, falling into a stupor over the fidgeting, nervous boy beneath him. This was turning out to be something much more than he could handle, he realized, but it was too late for that now. All he had to do was focus. As long as he didn't actually get an erection, things would work out.

So he said, "Right."

But now was the matter of posing.

In order for the scene to be set up appropriately, they had to look natural, sensual, err, sexual. Certain areas needed to align, which was easier said than done, as they stared at each other in the bottom bunk. As they were, they seemed to be preparing for the classic missionary style pose, which seemed good enough, except with Momo simply kneeling over Nitori, they were not touching.

They, uh, needed to start touching.

"Okay," Momo said to himself, letting his pants slouch down to his knees. "Here I go…"

And with a plop went Momotarou's pelvis, settling between Nitori's legs with the grace of a dropped banana. Ooohhh boy, Momo thought as he planked his lower body, a bit too frozen as he registered all the sensations going on downtown in the peach village, and began his internal mantra, which was simply, don't get hard, don't get hard, don't get hard.

"This isn't so bad, right?" Momo said, trying to comfort Nitori, whose hands covered his face as he tried not to acknowledge Momo on top of him. "Like we're doing stretches!"

Don't get hard.

"This isn't really comfortable," said Nitori, who shifted his hips under the weight of Momo's pelvic bone. But really, nothing about this was comfortable, as he too was battling his own body, trying to keep his thoughts tamed and meditative, which was nearly impossible because, you know, dicks. Why were they doing this? This was a terrible plan. How did Nitori let himself get swept up into this? Was it really that easy to get into his pants? That was kind of alarming.

Any moment Rin and Sousuke were about to slam the door open and witness their underclassmen wax erotica—at best, assume they were practicing yoga, with Momo performing the cobra pose straight into Nitori's core. They couldn't look each other in the eyes, having realized that this plan might have been Momo's worst idea yet—just a little out of their comfort zone. Like learning how to swim and then immediately jumping into the deep end, these two were mere seconds from drowning in embarrassment.

"I don't know if I want Rin-senpai to see me like this."

"You want to try another position?" asked Momotarou, who stared straight at the wall as he repeated internally still, don't get hard, don't get hard, don't get hard. Honestly, he was relieved that he could suggest, "We can try a different position."

This different position would be Nitori sitting on top of his desk with Momo's face buried into his crotch.

This was not how Nitori's mother raised him.

"This is too much," Nitori whined, as he rested an anxious hand on the back of Momo's head. It didn't matter that the way Momo's hands cupped his behind brought a warm comfort to Nitori—because they were also perking his hips up into Momo's face. But despite the intimacy of this position, it wasn't the position itself that made Nitori uncomfortable this time.

It was the fact that Momo would talk straight into his dick.

"This is beautiful, Nitori-senpai," said Momo, trying to comfort his newfound lover.

"Oh my god, can you not—"

"We're just displaying our love," he continued, "and we're going to do it with your thighs around my neck."

Nitori's eyes kept darting over towards the door. It felt like an eternity waiting for Rin and Sousuke to arrive, to the point that he wondered if they were even coming anymore. How long would he have to endure having his insane kouhai talk into his groin to pass the time? Never in his life did he think he would ever know what it would be like to have someone tell knock knock jokes to his downstairs audience or how oddly pleasant the vibrations of Momo singing Queen's "You're My Best Friend" would feel.

But at last, for a moment, Momo didn't say anything.

And both Nitori and his dick could rest.

Until, of course, he said, "Your thighs are warm, Nitori-senpai."

"Momo-kun!" Nitori pushed him away, squeezing his legs together, as he shouted, "I can't! I can't do it! I can't do this!"

This was too much for him to handle. He pulled his shirt down past his groin, feeling his insecurities build up again, and guiltily watched Momo rub his nose as he stood up. Nitori had accidentally shoved Momo's face so far that he had toppled backwards onto the floor. But he couldn't feel too guilty because no matter what his crazy kouhai said, no matter how charmingly ambitious he could be, Nitori had to be strong this time and put his foot down. They just confessed to one another and there… there were boundaries, okay?

But his silly kouhai did not stand before him, ready for another round at sexual twister. In fact, Momotarou looked quite stern, his arms dropping to his sides. His red hair tossed like fire and he looked ridiculous in his otter-and-clam boxers, but with his shoulders pulled back and his posture straightened, Momo bowed with as much serious intent as anyone else. And he said, firmly, "I'm sorry!"

An apology.

Ah, why were they so awkward, Nitori thought, feeling sort of bad for his sudden outburst. They were so awkward, and having spoken up, Nitori felt a bit of comfort that the world did not explode from his refusal. No one hated him, no one shunned him, and no one laughed. Momo just stood there and said, "I'm sorry."

"I'm not ready for this," said Nitori, hunching his shoulders, "even if it's just pretend."

"Okay." Momo nodded.

This was the first day—hell, the first morning—of their potential relationship and it was foolish for Momotarou to even try to rush anything for the sake of upholding a lie, but too late for regret. He held Nitori's hands in his hand and pressed their foreheads together, looking down at Nitori's feet dangle above the carpet floor as he sat on the desk, and said, "It was too much."

"Yeah," Nitori whispered.

"I'm sorry."

Nitori nodded, squeezing Momo's fingers between his. "It's okay."

And then Rin slammed opened the door, shouting, "YOU TWO NEED TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF RIGHT—"

They stood there, all four of them. Rin and Sousuke by the door, with Rin muted in his horror as Sousuke raised his eyebrows at this new development; Momo and Ai on the desk, with Momo nestled nicely and naturally between Nitori's legs in the middle of their make-up nuzzles.

Momo turned towards Nitori, wondering if the plan could still go on after all. And what the hell, Nitori thought, having surrendered to the fact that the damage was already done, and at least it didn't involve Rin seeing Momo have a private conversation with his own privates, so there was that. So with some gusto, Nitori grunted an affirmative, un!, bringing Momo's lips to his to kiss away the fact that there they stood in their underwear, all in the hopes of keeping a surprise party a secret for a couple more days.

And Rin yelled, "WHAT THE FUCK."