Here we go with Roommate Buddies! Poor Ikumi…

Her bed was comfy as usual and she loved the idea of being able to sleep a half hour longer now that she lived so close to the hospital. And there was a bonus of not having to wake up early to feed the cat.

Except she hated sleeping in an unpacked room… everything seemed so eerie. Set off her zen. Or her Feng Shui. Whatever.

Shinji was in his room downstairs. In his bed, probably still awake. It was absolutely bizarre to know he was within rock-throwing distance and yet she was in here, alone.

That's what roommates who aren't sleeping together do, nagged a voice in her head. Besides, you can't fool around with him now, his sister is next door and she'll tease you mercilessly if she hears you going downstairs. And she's almost as smart as Shinji is, she's probably prepared for it.

Her cheeks were pink just thinking about it. She was too tired from lugging boxes and furniture upstairs (you really never notice how much crap you have until you try to pack it all) but she didn't see a reason why she couldn't at least sleep in his bed. Wasn't there some superstition about it being bad luck to spend your first night in a new residence in your bed?

( No.)

Yup, that was settled. She kicked the covers off and jumped out of bed, tripped over a box before regaining her bearings and set off, padding down the stairs, cracking the door open enough and poking her head inside Shinji's room (oddly enough his door was closed).

"Hey. You up?"

Shinji rolled over and looked at her blearily. "No, please, have mercy," he groaned, holding his hand up to block the light. "I'm too tired. Rain check?"

Takako frowned. "I meant 'up' as in 'awake', you pervert. Get your head out of the gutter."

"Can you blame me for thinking it?" Shinji asked, and she could tell he was grinning despite how dark it was. "If this is about—"

She cut him off. "Got room in there for two?"

The silence was deafening, and she was about to take offense when he finally spoke up. "You could have mentioned that before we brought your bed upstairs."

Takako snorted. "So can I stay?"

Shinji scooted over in his bed wordlessly, throwing his blue comforter open for her. "Sure you're not going to fall for me when we're spooning?"

"Fuck off," Takako answered, shoving him over further. She had her favorite silky pajama pants and a matching pink cami on, but Shinji seemed to be either naked or in his underwear, as all she could see under the blankets was tanned skin and toned muscles. Which was weird, because Shinji wasn't the type to sleep in his underwear, he was way too OCD to not pick out clothes to sleep in.

Oh fuck it. She waited until she thought he was asleep to move as close to him as possible and put her arm around him, dropping her head on his chest.

Shinji smiled to himself and wrapped his arm around her.

The LCD clock said 5 o'clock, which was normally when Takako began her shift at the hospital. But today was her day off, and despite automatically waking up at this time, she'd never appreciated it more.

Where the hell is Shinji? She wondered, when she felt something stuck to her face. She rolled her eyes, not allowing herself to be amused by his stupid elementary school-level prank, and pulled the post-it note off her face. Went for a run; will be back to cash in that rain check later ;)

Shaking her head, Takako stuck the note to the bedside table and curled back up in bed sleepily.

Until she woke up to an icy blast of water, which made her scream and sit up. "SHINJI WHAT THE HELL!?" she screamed, because somehow she knew he had something to do with this—she tore back the shower curtain, furious and trying to find him so she could kill him—

He was leaning against the sink. She turned to glare at him but was stopped short by the sight of him, all sweaty, wearing nothing but a smirk as he watched her.

She scrambled to her feet, gesturing for him, and he wasted no time joining her in the shower, his lips catching hers in a kiss. She moaned against his mouth and pressed herself against him, feeling his hands pulling her top off. While he did that, she struggled with kicking her pants down her hips, and he yanked her underwear off.

"I'm going to pick you up," he told her, voice sounding very strained, and Takako nodded, getting her arms around his neck as he picked her up under her thighs.

He hoisted her leg up and shoved himself inside her. She groaned and squirmed against the wall, trying to get comfortable as he started to move, her fingers scrambling aimlessly across the tiles to find something to grab.

They had actually never done this in a running shower before—but they scarcely had time to enjoy it, as the incessant banging on the wall beside them interrupted any rhythm Shinji had been able to set.

"FUCK," Shinji groaned, leaning his head on Takako's collarbone. "Fuck, I forgot about—"

"I am going to kill you both!" Ikumi shouted from the other side of the wall. "Fuck, Shinji, that's my bathroom! Can't you two fuck in your own bathroom!?"

"I pay the bills, every bathroom is my bathroom," Shinji complained loudly.

Takako just sighed. It was possible living together meant they'd have even less sex.

That means you're REALLY in a relationship—

She hated how the nagging voice in her head reminded her of Shuuya on occasion, and made a mental note to punch him next time she saw him.

He carried her into his bedroom and dropped her on his bed, falling on top of her.

"Do you want to finish, or—"

Takako shook her head, closing her eyes. "I'm good. I'm going to be sore for a week."

That made him grin. "You're welcome."

"You sit for a living. I don't. I need to be able to move."

"Didn't hear you complaining—Ow!"

The truth was she ignored how sore she was in favor of more sex.

Their first month living together flew by without a hitch. They drank the same kind of milk, bought the same groceries, and co-existed nicely.

Oddly they hadn't had sex since her first morning there, mostly because of Ikumi, but Takako would be lying if she didn't admit that living together meant they didn't go out of the way to spend time together. But since her schedule was awful, it didn't really line up with Shinji's 9-5 routine, and one was usually sleeping by the time the other got home.

Shinji also spent 90% of his downtime on his laptop, either working from home (not likely) or designing some new program, probably because his other three hadn't made him nearly enough money yet. He also had one of those little tiny finger-basketball games, where you aimed the little ball and shot it through the tiny hoop… she caught him playing it once, and he'd hidden it like it was torture tentacle underage porn.

Medical science needed to fix Shinji's knee already.

Much to Takako's chagrin, the hospital was doing a summer festival, mostly to encourage high school kids to consider a medical track but also to get people involved in volunteering. Why exactly the medical field was scrambling for volunteers was a mystery to Takako, but she just fixed people for a living, she left the marketing stuff to the experts.

Speaking of marketing experts…

"We need to line up a couple bands, you know, music. Auditions are next week. Do not name-drop me, okay? You have to make it on your own."

She winced and pulled the phone away when an excited screech met her ears. "Fucking hell, Nanahara, do you have to be so goddamn loud?"

"You have no idea how happy this makes me! Yukie's been talking about decorating and I have no money, Takako, all the money I make at Mim's office goes right to fucking bills. Being married is so fucking expensive!"

"This is most likely gonna be pro bono. Publicity stuff, you know. But there'll be lots of people there, you can—are you already playing your guitar? Aren't you at work right now?" Takako asked blankly.

"Yeah, so?"

"Hang on, I got a text…" The text was from Shinji, stating as follows: "HE IS PLAYING HIS GUITAR THERE IS GOING TO BE A FUCKING RIOT IF HE DOESN'T STOP".

Normally she would sympathize, but Shinji both hired Shuuya and used the last of the toilet paper and didn't refill the roll, so the hell with him.

"You should keep playing. And don't forget about the audition!"

It sounded rather stupid to say Shinji Mimura hated people smarter than he was, because there just wasn't anyone smarter than he was (that he knew of). But he definitely hated people who might be as smart as him who used their genius for evil.

Hence the case of this asshole hacker who'd ruined a beta version one of the new programs his company was developing. The clients who'd been given the software to test had all called to bitch about the virus simultaneously. Shuuya had been flashing his trademark grin to everyone who came in person to complain, but all Shinji's employees had directed all calls to him, and Shinji had changed his outgoing message and disconnected the phone.

He rubbed his temples in annoyance. Going through countless Notepad files trying to fix the goddamn virus wasn't so bad, but he was being interrupted every fifteen seconds with something stupid, and he couldn't get a goddamn line of code written.

"Mim," Shuuya complained, pressing his nose against Shinji's window. "Mim! I see you! Open the goddamn door before I tell everyone we're getting raises."

Shinji opened the door. "What, Shu?"

"Uh…" He squinted to read the sticky note in his hand. "Takeru from Tokyo Life says every computer in his office got infected with the bad program."

"Is that it?" Shinji asked through gritted teeth.

"He said some other stuff too, but it was kind of fucked up, so I didn't write it down." Shuuya paused. "Mim, you look like you're gonna have a heart attack. Do you need help?"

Shuuya looked so earnest Shinji honestly wished there was something for him to do. "Just keep doing what you're doing. Unless I don't suppose you want to call Yukie and see if she'll put in a good word for us."

Shuuya ran off, and Shinji sighed. He was kidding, but anything that gave Shuuya a reason to call Yukie…

He was entertaining the thought of smashing his computer Office Space style and taking up a nomadic lifestyle when there was yet another knock on his door.

"Shuuya, I swear to God—"

"It's me," said Yumiko, eying him oddly through the window. "Can I come in? I got you something."

"Is it a baseball bat?" Shinji asked, glaring death at the flashing alert on his screen.

"No, it's better," said Yumiko, shaking her pretty head and offering him a watermelon.

Shinji looked at it oddly before placing it as one of those stress relief squeeze toys. "I want one that squeaks," he complained, taking it anyway and squeezing it so hard his knuckles whitened.

His number two left, still eying him as if he was a powder keg set to explode, and he exhaled loudly once his door closed.

"Fuck," he groaned, leaning his head into his hands in frustration. "People need to get hobbies instead of ruining other people's hard work."

(He was, of course, firmly ignoring any instances of his naïve, innocent younger self hacking into programs for fun because HOW WAS HE SUPPOSED TO LEARN?)

Now the shareholders were calling and complaining and people who'd had their company data ruined by this goddamned bastard virus were demanding some sort of company payout and Shinji was beginning to be grateful he'd told Shuuya to call Yukie, because he'd have to make a damn statement to the media at the rate this was going. Anything to avoid a damn lawsuit.

Three hours later, everyone—even Shuuya—had left. Yumiko had brought him a cup of coffee before she'd left—he always told her she didn't have to bring him coffee, but it was the only thing keeping him awake.

One of the worst parts of owning your own business. People fuck your shit up, you have to fix it.

He let his head bang against his desk in frustration. Hard to believe he'd fucked Takako on this same… Takako.

When was the last time he'd even seen her for longer than fifteen minutes? A week ago? She lived with him, but their schedule conflicts were really wreaking havoc on their dynamic.

Work forgotten, he reached for his phone.

She picked up on the first ring. "Shinji this had better be good."

"It is. I need you for something," Shinji told her, tossing the watermelon toy up in the air like it was a hackysack.

"What?" Takako asked guilelessly.

Shinji rolled his eyes.

Then she huffed, and sounded exasperated when she spoke. "Why can't you ever just call to say hello? I just got off a 15-hour-shift, Shinji, I am not coming over to fuck you. That's why you have a hand."

"Come on," Shinji complained, "you're already tired, just drop by, have sex with me, then go take your nap!"

"You are so god damned needy." Takako sighed. "Will a picture shut you up?"

"I don't want a picture, I want you. I am not above begging and crying."

"Absolutely not. I am tired and I am gross and I do not feel like leaving the house. Why can't you just come here? Ikumi's not even home!"

Shinji shook his head. He had expected resistance, which is why he came up with an ingenious backup plan. His sister would scold him for sexism, but it wasn't sexist if it actually worked, and this particular trump card did when dealing with Takako Chigusa. "Clothes, shoes. Anything in the world you want. They're yours. Just come fuck me, please. I can't leave, I don't have this software on the computer at home."

Takako was silent for so long he thought she'd hung up, but before he checked the connection, he heard her speak up. "Uh, change of plans. Be there in ten. Fifteen if I hit all the lights."

Note to self. Bribery works on Takako.

"I'm only doing this for the Louboutins, not because I want to be here," Takako was saying as she opened the door, but Shinji was more or less horrified by her appearance and less at what she was saying.

Because she did look gross. Scrubs, something splattered all over the front of her top (Shinji would assume some sort of biohazardous bodily fluid), her hair up in a messy bun. Gross by Takako standards anyway, she was still a hot babe incomparable to regular girls.

Just… down to a 3 on the Taka Scale instead of her usual over-nine-thousand.

He was so surprised at the sight of her he pulled a Shuuya. "Ugh! Zombie. I changed my mind."

Takako's jaw dropped, and she looked so angry Shinji could literally feel her wrath. She was always a fun fuck when she was pissed but this was not the hot pissed, this was the Shinji is about to die for saying something stupid pissed.

Probably best to go out with a bang, he thought, but was distracted (and scared) from his thoughts when Takako slammed her pretty hands on his desk in fury. "You're really something, y'know that? You call me up like a damn bitch in heat—"

"Hey!"

"—demanding that I stop being tired from working my actually important to society job all damn night and day—"

"Hey!"

"—long enough to come here and help you get your rocks off, and you have the nerve to point out the god damned obvious and tell me I look like shit? FUCK YOU, SHINJI MIMURA!"

Yeah he was going to die. What would be a more humiliating obituary, 'fell out of 6th story window' or 'murdered by disgruntled love-of-my-life'?

Lame, you love her but you'll never say anything about it—

"Are you even listening to me?" Takako shouted.

Trump card time, Shinji thought desperately. "Taka, calm down, think about the shoes! The ones you were eye-fucking! The platforms with the 5" heel, the ankle strap—" What? He had a little sister, therefore he knew more about women's shoes than a grown man should. Except in the case of Takako, she bought and wore the expensive shoes while Ikumi just drooled over them.

"I can buy them myself, with the money I make from my actually important job," Takako snapped, turning to leave.

Shinji was out of his seat like a rocket, and he grabbed her from behind (she yelped in surprise) and pushed her against the wall, pressing his erection against her thighs. "Or I'll buy them for you," he said,

Takako whimpered, but her hips were rocking against his in happy harmony.

"Come on, we haven't had sex in a week," he told her, his breath hot on her ear, which never failed to get her excited.

"You can go fuck someone else, then," Takako answered, but when he slid his hand underneath her top and squeezed her breast she moaned and covered his hand with hers. "Okay—okay, fine, just—ngghhhh Shinji god damn it!"

They were both too horny for much foreplay, and they made it back to his desk, him falling backwards into his desk chair with Takako straddling his lap. "Isn't this what a prostitute does?"

They both groaned as she sunk down on him. "Oooog, you were right. Been way too long." She rocked her hips and leaned back comfortably, draping her arms around his neck.

"This isn't doing it for me," Shinji decided after a moment, picking her up and dropping her on his desk. He pulled her legs up over his arms—Takako very nearly screaming at the sudden change of angle—and, to use the words of the great philosopher Shuuya Nanahara, fucked the living crap out of her.

The night had ended well. After coming twice himself, he'd ended up carrying Takako to her car (she hadn't been even the least bit grateful for the multiple Multiple Orgasms, instead been furious at him for being so rough with her) and even managed to shut her up by making out with her, which was always fun. She was threatening to stab him to death with the heel of her new shoes when he finally got away from her.

Anyway, psychotic fuck-buddy now a frightening memory, he'd gone back to work and completely fixed his virus problem, had emailed his clients and assured them the problem was fixed, and was being publicly hailed as a hero (amongst his fellow computer nerds).

He figured Takako would be waiting at the front door with a machete, so he wisely went inside through the garage; but she hadn't been lying in wait for him at all, lying on the couch in her pajamas.

"Over-dramatic much?" he asked, setting his laptop case down and sitting down by her head.

Takako groaned. "Everything hurts. You were too rough on my boobs, I'm covered in sex bruises, and I don't think I can walk."

"So I guess I lucked out of taking you to the mall, huh," Shinji said, stretching his legs out.

"Screw you," Takako answered, wincing as she sat up. "I'm going to buy one of those giant strap-ons and do you in the ass so hard you'll be limping for the next seven—"

"You get off like a rocket every time!" Shinji pointed out nervously, really just wanting to end that particular sentence.

Takako gave a particularly evil snicker and crawled closer. "Why are you so jumpy? Hold still."

He was expecting to be castrated with a tiny knife drawn from Takako's cleavage, but instead she sat up just enough to drop her head in his lap.

Watching TV, sitting on his couch with Takako curled up in his lap after a productive day's work. Yep, definitely a good night.

Somehow the universe had conspired in his favor for once, rather than against it. It was one of those rare Friday nights Takako had off.

Shinji had been looking forward to it since Tuesday. He wanted to take her out for dinner, trick her into going on a date with him and later spring the surprise on her—surprise, you just dated Shinji Mimura and you enjoyed it—

"No, I'm going out, one of the doctors wanted to so I said alright," Takako said, shrugging.

"One of the doctors? Which one?" Oh god he hoped he sounded casual. I PICKED OUT MY GODDAMN OUTFIT AND MADE A DINNER RESERVATION ARGHGHHHHGHDJHKJDHFKLJSHKJFHSKJFHSKFFS were his thoughts exactly, but STAY FROSTY, MIMURA.

Takako snorted, running her hands down her hips, smoothing the skirt she was wearing. "Dr. Tsukino. You haven't met."

That told him nothing, and apparently his expression showed it, because she laughed. "You look kind of green, Mim. Maybe you should lie down."

Shinji narrowed his eyes, but she met his glare with a sultry-looking gaze of her own. "You have nothing to worry about," she said slowly, stepping closer to him. "I'm with you right now, aren't I?"

Danger, danger, red alert, Shinji's brain was saying, but his breath was stuck in his throat as she inched closer towards him, running her soft fingertips up his arm, giving him goosebumps. She ran her hand up behind his neck, playing with the ends of his hair. "Never thought I'd see the great Shinji Mimura jealous."

"I am not jealous," Shinji began defensively, but Takako shushed him and perched on his lap, loosely draping her arms around his neck.

"I'd be jealous too," she murmured, her breath on his neck. "In fact, I think I should take a few precautions to make sure you're still here when I get back…"

The evil twinkle in her eyes made his inner Shuuya voice yell RED ALERT again.

He was unsure how Takako went from sitting on his lap to tying his arms to his bedframe with one of his ties, but somehow it happened in the blink of an eye.

Son of a bitch.

Told you so, the nagging Shuuya voice in his head nagged.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. He would just touch the SEND button with his nose or something, but that would just call his last call; which had been to a client. Definitely couldn't call him.

Ikumi finally rescued him (unintentionally) two hours later. (She'd been taking an excruciatingly long shower, blasting the newest Ayumi Hamasaki song as loudly as humanly possible, on repeat, for the last two hours. Shinji could not scream that loudly, apparently.)

"Shinji, I'm—gross."

Shinji stopped trying to dial Shuuya's number with his tongue (with little success) and looked at his sister expectantly. "About goddamn time. Aren't we supposed to have Mimura ESP? Traitor."

"I think that's just twins. Is this a sex thing?" Ikumi asked, wrinkling her nose. "On second thought, don't answer that question."

Shinji shook his head so quickly he felt his neck crick. "No. Not at all. Takako did this to me and left."

"Close enough." Ikumi shook her head. "Can I borrow your car?"

Shinji's response was immediate. "No fuckin' way!"

Ikumi shrugged. "Okay then. Have fun being tied to the bed."

Fuck, he'd forgotten about that. Shinji narrowed his eyes. She was getting too smart. At the rate she was learning, she would outsmart him in a month, and then he'd have to worry about her turning on him.

But in the meantime, there was a spot on his lower back that itched like a motherfucker and there was no way Ikumi was going to scratch it. So he sighed. "Untie me and yes, you may borrow my car. Just don't wreck it because I prefer it to you."

"Sweet!" said Ikumi cheerfully, turning to leave.

"Hey! Ikumi, are we forgetting something?"

"Ohhhh, right. I thought you meant, 'untie me after you get home'."

"Why would I mean that?"

"You've done weirder stuff before!"

Shinji could not refute this.

I like this chapter! Random shenanigans are what I do best (or so I like to think). I hope you like it too!