Paved with Good Intentions
by Surefall and Aishuu
Disclaimer: Based on Prince of Tennis, by Konomi.
Part Two Summary: In Which some mortals are already on the road to hell and archangels share a bath.
Rooming with Saeki Kojiroh was an experience Fuji Yuuta was convinced he'd never forget. Saeki was a rather unusual personality, and delighted in tormenting those around him. Yuuta liked him -- he figured he must had been attracted to Saeki's cruel steak. Of course, he was dating Mizuki Hajime, so he figured he was just a glutton for punishment.
Their room, located in a standard dorm, was often the scene of minor clashes between the suave Saeki and the manipulative Mizuki. Both of them considered Yuuta their personal toy, and neither played well with others.
Yuuta just suffered through it. They were at it -- again -- and Yuuta was considering ordering out for pizza or maybe ramen. It was like listening to a broken record.
Mizuki Hajime sniffed at Saeki in a manner that indicated he smelled something especially odious in the room and it happened to be one Saeki Kojiroh, "When hell freezes over." This was the resounding finish to his argument and he considered a damn good one.
Hearing Mizuki's speak had Yuuta spitting something out unwilling. Occasionally his mouth would run away with him, and this was one of those times. "Actually, there's parts of hell that are frozen already."
He had no clue where that came from, but he was convinced he was right.
Pleased to be distracted from his endless argument with Mizuki over what amounted to home decorating using paint ball guns, Saeki tossed out an easy, "How do they manage to keep it frozen if it's always hot down there?"
"It's got different climates, just like heaven and earth. Some people find being cold their own personal hell, and the devil has to accommodate," Yuuta said, still considering what take out place to order from, and ignoring the fact that Saeki had apparently forgotten his fight with Mizuki in favor of pestering his roomie.
Fight? What fight? Saeki remembered no fight. Already, he has blotted it from his mind ... especially since he knew he was right. Mizuki was just blustering to save face. "That makes a certain sense."
If Saeki's talking, Mizuki felt obligated to one-up him, usually in a manner that best revealed his higher level of culture and displayed Saeki's inability to be anything more than a cute plebe. "Dante mentions that hell would be cold, because it's the furthest from the light of God," he mused idly, toying with a strand of his hair.
"Oh, it's still pretty hot in places." Ramen, Yuuta decided. From the best little place he'd discovered last week... but it didn't have take-out, so he'd need to actually go get it. With a sigh, he went over to his closest to dig out a more presentable shirt -- Mizuki had managed to rip his in their last encounter. Saeki had been rather upset at walking in on them having sex on his bed, thus the argument.
Saeki shot Mizuki an annoyed look as Yuuta's actions reminded him that yes, Yuuta was dating another guy and yes, they were kinky enough to do it on Saeki's bed. "Just not everywhere?"
"It's either hot or cold. No real in between." Where the heck were his shoes.... Yuuta didn't even notice his profound statements, preferring to focus on the material world. Saeki and Mizuki, though, were absolutely enchanted by this side of the normally rather thick young man.
Mizuki felt compelled to keep this magical perception flowing, "Land of extremes, then?"
"It's hell. Of course it is. You're just never in the extreme you want." Yuuta opened his wallet and found it pitifully empty. Shaking his head, he sidled over to Mizuki and traced his hand us his boyfriend's thigh, before blatantly swiping his wallet.
Mizuki smirked at the look on Saeki's face, content to let his boyfriend take all the money he wanted, provided he puts his hand back where it was.
The blatant male fondling was not to be tolerated (well, fondling that involved Mizuki - he could stand other sorts of male fondling). Saeki tossed in another hopeful distraction to their lust (he refused to call it anything like love), "Makes sense. Jeez, Yuuta. What do you do? Spend your weekends figuring this stuff out?"
Yuuta felt Mizuki's hand slip down the front of his pants, and Saeki's question was a rather unwelcome distraction. "... what were we talking about?" he asked as Mizuki stroked him temptingly. They'd only been having sex half and hour ago, but it was hard to keep his body from reacting.
"Hell. Hey, do you know what the devil looks like?" Saeki replied, beginning to be mildly annoyed. He flipped Mizuki the bird and Mizuki mouthed 'any time' at him over Yuuta's shoulder.
Only one word came to Yuuta's mind as Mizuki pulled him into his lap. "Sexy."
Mizuki did more than smirk at Saeki this time. His face was the picture of clear triumph as he bent his head to mouth the back of Yuuta's neck.
"Being the seducer of innocent souls ... " it was quite clear that Saeki considers Mizuki to be the true seducer here. An especially slimy one. "Yeah, okay ... is it a chick?"
Another brief certainty flitted through Yuuta's mind. "Well, some people think so on first sight, but he's all male."
"Damn," Saeki drawled, pulling a particularly grotesque sock out from under Yuuta's bed and rolling it up. He lifted it in a threatening manner, eyeing Mizuki ominously, "I was hoping he would be a hot chick."
Mizuki stuck his tongue out at Saeki in a childish fashion and then purred against Yuuta's ear, "Yuuta-kun ... what about Heaven?"
"Never been there, how would I know?" Yuuta asked crossly, leaning back as Mizuki toyed with his nipples.
That was it, Saeki couldn't stand it anymore. He threw the hazardous waste pretending to be a sock at Mizuki's head, "You're saying you've been to hell?"
Mizuki ducked and shoved Yuuta under into the sock's path. It was Yuuta's, he should be immune!
Yuuta gagged as the sock smacked him in the face. "Hey, you bastard!" he said, rising to his feet and straightening his shirt. The conversation was lost as Saeki proceeded to get pummeled by an irate Yuuta, while Mizuki laughed.
Saeki had the weirdest roommate. Sometimes you'd think he actually knew what he was talking about.
Despite Yagyuu and Kirihara's oh-so-detailed instructions, it still took Kikumaru twenty-seven bars and thirty-three clubs to find The Lounge. He probably wouldn't have needed to do the clubs, but he happened to have gotten distracted. Free drinks for chicks under twenty-five - she could dig it! Kikumaru happened to view physical sexuality as a pair of clothes he could change when the need arose. Who could pass that kind of thing up? Yagyuu would approve.
Now, though, his destination was at hand and he could just feel the ripple of delighted tension that shivered down his spine. This, he thought, was the moment of truth. He would walk in there and Oishi would fall at his feet just like that. No question. Kikumaru Eiji could do this.
Throwing open the door, he stalked inside, strutting his leather clad ass and letting the dim light sparkle off his skin tight shirt just so. Entrance was an art. Nailing Oishi (why did Oishi have to wear such drab clothes? Did angels know nothing of pizzaz?) with a determined stare and a pointed finger, he cried, "Why didn't you tell me you were working here?!?!"
Oishi had been half-expecting Kikumaru to show up after his encounter with Kirihara, but that didn't stop him from dropping the drink he's been preparing for Shinji. The shattering glass echoed through the bar, but Oishi ignored the shards and liquor that decorated the floor at his feet. All he could do was stare at Kikumaru in disbelieving horror, and a bit of... relief. It'd been far too long since they'd played their game, and Oishi had missed the cheerful incubus.
"Um. well..." he stammered, backing up so he was leaning against the bottles of exotic drinks. Kikumaru always threw him off balance.
Oishi hadn't changed, that much was obvious. Kikumaru put his hands on his hips and leaned forward, pouting with every ounce of pathetic kittyness he could summon without using ears, "Oishi, you were supposed to tell me where you were running to so I could follow you!"
"That would have defeated the point of running." He stared at Kikumaru's beautiful face, remembering what it had been like to kiss him...
No, no, no! Don't go there! he warned himself. Lust was a sin, and he'd damn himself in thirty seconds if he gave consideration on what he really wanted to do with the demon.
They had been playing this game for nearly five hundred years, ever since they met during the Renaissance in Italy. Every time they encountered each other, Kikumaru would try to seduce Oishi, who had a weakness for redheads. Twice it had only been through the intervention of Tezuka, one of the four Archangels, that Oishi hadn't sold his soul to the incubus.
Kikumaru had reserved a special level of annoyance for Tezuka, That Stealer of His Fair Game. Who cared if he had been the one who had been responsible for kicking Lucifer to oblivion? If he didn't happen to be Fuji's personal little project, Kikumaru would have wiggled his ass in Tezuka's oh-so-holy direction and taught him a thing or two.
Kikumaru licked his lips, making sure to drag the tip of his tongue languorously along the very edge of lip and skin, knowing its power, "There wasn't any need to run, Oishi-kun"
For a second Oishi thought he saw cat ears appear on Eiji's head, and tried not to groan. His breathing was quickening, and he felt like a drug addict being promised a fix. "I think... there's plenty of reason. Eiji -- "
"You're too loud," Shinji informed Kikumaru with a dark look, thumping his drink for emphasis. What was it? Interrupt his quality time week? Was there no god?
Kikumaru swivelled his head to stare at Shinji. He licked his lips again, catching that wisp of human thought: Was there no god? Sidling over to the bar, he dropped himself down next to Shinji and cooed, just a little, "I'm so sorry ... let me buy you a drink to make up for it! Oishi-kun! A drink for my new friend."
Shinji scowled. This person was as annoying as Sengoku ...
"Eiji... I think he's had enough for tonight," Oishi said, not wanting to let Kikumaru focus on the mortal. Kikumaru was practically irresistible to souls who wanted affection, and Shinji might be tempted too easily.
"There's no such thing as enough!" Eiji protested and Shinji nodded in agreement. Clearly, this person was way smarter than the people he usually happened to end up drinking beside.
"Shinji, how about I call you a cab so you can get to class on time tomorrow?" Oishi asked, trying to find some way out of this situation.
Shinji mumbled mutinously, "Don't need to go to class."
Kikumaru nodded in complete agreement. That's right, silly mortal, reject your responsibilities.
"I'm already failing them."
"It's only a week in!" Oishi protested. "All you need to do is give it a little effort."
"Don't wanna."
Oishi stepped toward Shinji to offer comfort, but the sound of glass under his feet reminded him of the drink he'd dropped. "Ibu-san, if you want to be happy, you need to embrace life."
Kikumaru had thought the mortal was doing pretty good on his own, but that was no reason not to block Oishi at every turn. "No, he doesn't ... he just needs another drink to be happy."
Shinji mulled this over for a bit. Somewhere in that, he was sure there had been a break in logic ... but on the other hand, he wanted another drink, and any excuse to get one is a good excuse, "Yeah. Now gimme another drink."
Oishi was a comforting angel, not one of the ones who read people their rights. He wished that someone with a better backbone was dealing with Shinji, because he found himself handing over the beer as requested. "That's your last one," he said lamely, feeling miserable.
Shinji had only heard that a million times. He tugged the beer to him and happily (as close to happy as morose and unsociable can get) slurped the foam off. "Mmmmm."
Kikumaru almost purred, stroking the human's arm in a overly friendly gesture as he smirked at Oishi. So easy, so very, very easy. He stared at Oishi with dark, dark, darkening eyes, as if saying that he could be doing the same thing to Oishi that he was doing to the human ... touching ... caressing ...
"Kikumaru, maybe we should talk about things... later... alone," Oishi conceded. He can see that Shinji is on the brink of the point of no return, and if he has to sacrifice himself....
Kikumaru smiled at Oishi brilliantly, "Really? Oishi-kun wants to be alone with me?"
Want would be the wrong word. Dreaded was more accurate. "We need to talk," Oishi reiterated, shutting his eyes in resignation.
Kikumaru almost giggled, covering his mouth with a hand (mourning the loss of his paws), "Oishi-kun needs me!"
Oishi decided that the best thing to do would just be ignore that. Nodding at a waitress to cover his post, he grabbed Kikumaru by the elbow and pulled him into the manager's office. He was in charge at night, so he had enough rights to the place.
Squawking in surprise, Eiji allowed himself to be dragged, more from initial surprise than anything else. Once inside the office, however, with the door swinging shut behind him, he realized just how convenient Oishi's maneuver was. Smiling smugly, Eiji twisted in Oishi's grip, sliding his free arm around Oishi's neck and pressing himself up against the taller angel. "Oishi-kun does want to be alone with me," he purrs.
From long experience, Oishi had learned that any attempts to dislodge the demon would only result in him becoming more resolute. Instead, he stared up at the ceiling and prayed for patience and chastity. It was extremely hard to ignore the hands wandering all over his body, but he tried with divine might. "Eiji, what are you doing here?" he asked.
Eiji pouted into the bit of Oishi's neck he happened to be nuzzling. He didn't really want Oishi to actually start questioning how he managed to show up. Oh no, he would rather that Oishi moaned his name and then nicely fall to hell so he could fuck him silly. "Visiting you! What else would I be doing here?"
"Tempting some mortal into sin?" Oishi returned, trying not to either lean in or squirm away. Indifference was his best weapon, but the hardest to employ.
"But you're my most very favorite project, Oishi-kun!"
When Kikumaru's hands finally tried to slide into his pants, Oishi backed up a step. There was only so much he could ignore. "Stop it!" Oishi said, smacking Eiji's hands lightly to keep them off.
Eiji made his best hurt face, almost making himself a pair of drooping kitty ears before he remembered his human form shouldn't really do that, "But, Oishi .... !"
"Just... behave!" Oishi ordered.
"Mmmmm" Eiji purred, licking his lips. Oishi was so cute when he thought he could order him around. He took a step forward, reaching out to touch the angel again.
Oishi took another step back before his back met with the wall. Cornered, he stared with helpless eyes as Eiji wrapped around his body again. "Eiji -- " he started, but a warm mouth cut him off.
Satisfied that he had managed to shut Oishi up, Eiji pulled back to gloat, "You need to stop talking so much and just ... live a little." Before Oishi could be given the opportunity to reply to that, Eiji sealed his lips over Oishi's again and ran his tongue across his teeth, wanting in and wanting in right now.
Oishi raised his hands to push the incubus off, but somehow ended up pulling him closer. His mind was frying and all he could think was about how good it felt...
Oishi was delicious when his defenses were crumbling into dust. Eiji squirmed in his grip, rubbing himself enticingly against his divine counterpart while he worked on plundering a soft mouth. Angels were always so sweet, like candy and cream and things so easily sharpened with forbidden sin. He was going to take great pleasure in making Oishi his very own Fallen.
Neither of them heard the sound of the door being cracked open, but both became aware of the voyeur when he began to mumble.
Shinji squinted at them, empty mug clenched determinedly in one fist, "So that's where you were ... s'not fair getting to suck face with him like that when I don't get too ... I want someone to suck face with too ... and I need some beer. ... why weren't you out there when I needed beer? ... . it's really an empty mug now and I want a refill ... and can you please stop kissing him, I really don't like it ... you shouldn't be kissing him like that, Oishi-san ... "
Oishi pushed Kikumaru back, sending the incubus into the sofa. Eiji laughed a bit, but as he tried to sprawl out invitingly, he realized that he landed awkwardly enough to be sore.
Stupid human form.
Oishi, after a somewhat guilty look at Kikumaru, turned to Shinji, wishing his face didn't blush so easily. "Um... um, Ibu-san..." he stuttered, unable to think of any reasonable excuse about what he was doing.
Shinji stared at Eiji darkly, not particularly pleased by the way he was attempting to sprawl on the sofa. Then he turns the look to Oishi, who was looking far too well-kissed to make a single man happy, "I want a refill," he repeated firmly.
Oishi realized that he had been saved from sin only through what was probably divine intervention. "Go home!" he ordered Eiji, before grabbing Shinji by the shoulder and forcing him through the door, intent on making the mortal as many drinks as he could handle before passing out. He gave Eiji a warning look -- somewhat diluted by how swollen his lips were -- and hurried out of the office.
Shinji grumbled, but it turned into pleased mutterings as he was plied with a sloshing foam of the pub's finest brew.
Eiji was not so pleased at this turn of events. Annoying mortal. He had almost had Oishi. Almost! It was so close, he could feel him crumbling. Eiji grinned suddenly, flexing his fingers in the sofa as though they were claws. It seemed the long years had been like a drought to his favorite angel ... he could use that ... and the bitter little mortal too.
The cackle that echoed through the empty room would have scared any sinner straight, but luckily for Eiji, no one was there to hear it.
In the hierarchy of heaven, there were four archangels who were God's right hands. Three of them were currently holding a meeting in what appeared to be a.... bathhouse. Cleanliness being a virtue and all, heaven was well-equipped with bathing facilities, believing that clean bodies led to cleaner spirits.
It was not that Tezuka didn't believe in cleanliness, it was just that he didn't see why they had to meet in a bathhouse every single time. He was beginning to suspect that all angels were secretly voyeurs on some level and were letting out their secret little desires by spying on each other in a socially acceptable setting. Despite this, he still picked up a bar of soap and began lathering up with determination. "Everyone is doing well, I hope?" Formalities and politeness must always be observed.
Atobe rolled his eyes and grabbed a sponge. "Of course I am." He slanted a look at Yukimura, the fragile-looking man appearing like he was able to be blown away by a breeze. "Though I think Seiichi still hasn't recovered from the... what was it last time? Black plague?"
"World War I, actually," Seiichi said, his face still wane. He was notorious for managing to injure himself in the line of duty. His smile wasn't bothered, though, as he gave Tezuka a smile of exceeding sweetness. "Did you have something you wanted from us, Kunimitsu-kun?"
"I would advise being more careful on your next assignment, Seiichi," was Tezuka's relatively calm additive to the discussion of Seiichi's persisting collection of injuries. It was true that injuries from a rather titanic battle back around the time made Yukimura prone to sickness now, so he really should just take care of himself, Tezuka thought. There was indeed a subject that Tezuka wished to broach with his colleagues, but one he was also reluctant to discuss. Atobe had a tendency to pick at his plans despite never being involved in them.
Yukimura blinked at him. "They're not letting me go down - that's why Sanada-"
"Where is old stone face, anyway?" Atobe asked. It was a well-known fact that Sanada was practically glued to Yukimura's hip, so if he wasn't with Yukimura, chances were he was on earth.
Yukimura ignored Atobe's interruption gracefully, continuing smoothly as soon as Atobe shut up. "-is working in Florida to straighten that mess Niou gave us a few years ago."
A line crinkled its way between Tezuka's eyes, an indication that he was frowning. "You should have been able to handle the clean up of that on your own." It sounded as though Sanada and Yanagi had teamed up against Yukimura again.
"I would have, but it's a bit difficult to do from up here. I needed someone who could actually manifest... I've got another two decades before Yanagi says I'll be fit enough to work on the mortal plane."
"Unfortunate," Tezuka set the soap back down and reached for the water dipper, "Do we know if Sengoku is bothering to check his messages? He seems to be ignoring mine."
Atobe sniffed. "He gets them, I just doubt he pays any attention." The idea of the irreverent angel always ruffled the feathers on Atobe's back. "Why in heaven would you want anything to do with him?"
"I prefer to keep track of his movements rather than letting him run wild without supervision."
It definitely was a good point, but Atobe found Sengoku so annoying he ignored the logic of Tezuka's argument. "Out of sight, out of mind," he said, waving a disdainful hand.
Yukimura tried not to sigh. Being with the two was like being between the proverbial rock and a hard place - though he would secretly call it "hard heads" since Tezuka and Atobe Occasionally needed to have their heads knocked together - usually by Sanada. It was times like this Yukimura missed Sanada, since he knew he couldn't use those brute-strength methods. People expected him to be nice, after all.
"He is one of us," Yukimura said, offering a gentle smile. "We're concerned about all of God's children, especially the unruly ones."
"Out of sight and most likely planting frogs in your clouds again, Atobe." Tezuka often felt it necessary to bring this particular prank up. Mainly because it secretly amused him to think about it. Tezuka shifted his focus to Yukimura and mouthed the easy platitude that Sengoku fed him every time he pulled something of a dubious nature, "We are all implements of divine will." Perhaps that would be sufficiently neutral enough to free him from having to make statements about which side he thought Sengoku was actually working for.
Yukimura merely raised an eyebrow, even though his compassionate expression didn't waver. "Indeed." His smile shone line a warm sunbeam as he bestowed it on his peers. "Tezuka, is there some reason you're particularly curious about Yukimura?" he asked as he gestured for Atobe to pass the strawberry scented bath gel.
"I suspect he may be up to something," it was not a lie, suspecting the wayward angel was up to something was part of why Tezuka was asking.
"When is he not up to something?" Atobe shot back as he tossed Yukimura the bottle he had requested. "If he would only spend a quarter as much time as I do with God, he might be on a better path."
Now Atobe was bringing out his supposed favorite status with the Heavenly Father. It might have been a bit more powerful, if he wasn't talking to Yukimura, who was millennia older than he was, and Tezuka, who everyone knew was the most powerful among them. Yukimura mutely grabbed a bath poof and added the gel, the sweet smell calming him. "Is there something unique about this situation? We all know Sengoku has a penchant for finding trouble," Yukimura said instead of riding to Atobe's bait.
There are moments that one must simply ignore Atobe. Now was one of those moments. Tezuka poured some cinnamon shampoo into his hands and calmly applied the substance to his hair before he answered Yukimura, "I fear he may be interfering with Oishi."
"Oishi?" Yukimura said, unable to hide his surprise. Oishi was one of their best, with his genuine compassion guiding him through. If only there wasn't the incubus who had declared Oishi his personal play-thing.
"Yes." Tezuka was not known for exposition.
Atobe was tempted to dunk Tezuka in an attempt to get him to say something constructive. "Sengoku has a bad habit of not being where he should, but what makes this time so special?" he asked, but then his face darkened as his legendary Insight piece the puzzle together. "Don't tell me Sengoku's playing with demons again..."
"That was what I was afraid of," what he was hoping for, actually, "and why I was asking if anyone had heard anything," Tezuka made it sound like an admission versus an explanation.
"Maybe we should ask Akutsu. They are rather close friends," Yukimura suggested.
Atobe snorted at the idea of Akutsu having any friends. "Is he still here? Isn't it about time for Dan to tempt him away again?"
No one was really quite sure which side Akutsu was originally on, but it was well known that he switched almost every decade. Yukimura found it hard to believe that he always fell for Dan Taichi, but he had to admit that devil had definitely redefined the concept of "cutely evil." It was only when their own Kawamura managed to make Akutsu repent that the whole cycle would start again. According to Yanagi's records, Akutsu had switched sides 657 times.
"Yes. It seems he's actually taking Sengoku's messages right now." Something that had been somewhat interesting to watch. The phone would ring, Akutsu would pick it up and then he would promptly set it back down again, disconnecting the caller. It had been something of an education in how Sengoku had always managed to miss their calls.
"Well, send him down to fetch Sengoku. Problem solved," Atobe returned. "Is that all?"
The last thing Tezuka wanted was ever-ambivalent Akutsu mucking around in what was basically Tezuka's business. He just didn't bother to tell Atobe that he'll be ignoring his advice, "Yes, I believe that is everything."
Yukimura was smart enough to detect the subtle undercurrents that Atobe's pride made him miss. He finally did sigh aloud, realizing that Sanada would have to be called back to help deal with the fall out. The Floridians could sort out their own election system.
In the beginning, everyone knows that God created the universe. A universe with certain laws, certain rules, and certain elements that remain constant over time. One of these universal constants is math, the little bit of calculation that keeps the scientific parts of the universe running on cue. This is the unfortunate reason why students of all ages must study the little bits ... that and the fact that some fool named Newton bothered to pull Calculus out of the ether in a fit of divine inspiration and teach it to the masses. Sengoku didn't admit it to his own associates that Newton's Calculus had been his own bit of contribution to law and order ... as well as the torment that made so many bright souls fall astray.
So he didn't really need to be in math class. But hot damn if the pretty little bit of infernal fluff named Kirihara wasn't here and so was Saeki, who was just an all around outstandingly fun mortal who happened to be throwing something at Mizuki right now. No, Sengoku held no responsibility for the paperclip flying at Mizuki's head ... okay, so maybe he did. Just a little.
Mizuki snapped an "ow!" and rubbed the back of his head, turning to glare poisonously at the two now innocently smiling perpetrators.
Sakaki had declared the period a shared study, which was why Kirihara had managed to wangle his way into a group containing Mizuki and Yuuta. The other group that was sitting nearby was the aforementioned Saeki and Sengoku, and a rather excitable person named Kamio. He was a ton of fun to incite, and had a fuse the length of one of Kikumaru's whiskers. There might be a touch of delay in the explosion, but he almost always went off pretty quickly.
Wordlessly Kirihara handed Mizuki a spitball shooter. "Aim for the face," he advised.
Mizuki did not need to be told twice. He loaded, he aimed, he fired on his immediately dodging foes. "You fuckers, stop moving out of the way!"
Sengoku pulled a face at him, "Oh, you want us to stand still?"
"You couldn't hit the broadside of my ass if it was flashing itself at you," Saeki blithely informed him.
"You're going to flash your ass?" Sengoku asked, intrigued.
"Oh, did you want to see it?"
"Please?"
Saeki turned, undid his pants, and merrily mooned the now twitching Mizuki (who forgot to shoot such a nice target out of disbelieving shock). Ignoring the catcalls of girls across the room, he gives Mizuki a smirk and sits back down, dressing as he goes. Sengoku places a hand over his heart, "A finer ass I have never seen."
Kirihara was started to get to the point where nothing Sengoku did surprised him anymore - he was becoming numb to it, really. Who cared if Sengoku was merrily leading Saeki down the path to eternal damnation? It made Kirihara's job a lot easier.
Yuuta, now beat red, was staring at the squabbling trio with disbelief. He'd thought Saeki and Mizuki were bad, but this new element was raising the usual bickering to an art form. He looked at Mizuki with the puppy eyes he knew his lover couldn't resist. "Um, can we just get back to studying?" he asked, hoping to advert a further flagrant public display.
Mizuki cast an exceptionally dark look at Saeki, making a mental note to seek a great vengeance on him at a later date. And on Sengoku as well, but mainly on Saeki. He reached out to rest his hand on Yuuta's thigh and murmured an "Of course, Yuuta-kun," and smirked as Saeki shot him an annoyed look.
Sengoku glanced down at Kamio's quasi-industrious scribbles and then looked up to smile at Kirihara, "Hey, Kiri-kun Think we can trade you for quick stuff here?"
"Why would I want to join your group? All you do is copy off me," Kirihara returned. He decided to take aim at Kamio, and maybe rile him up. "If he's not good enough for you to copy off of, it's not my problem."
Kamio's hand shook as he tried to maintain his attention on his assignment. There was no way he wanted to get involved in the current sparring match - he was meeting with An after class, and she would be annoyed if he wound up in trouble.
"Can I help it if you're such a fine upstanding student who actually does his work?" Sengoku shot back.
Saeki just reloaded and zeroed in on Kirihara, "Yo, stop molesting our group."
"He started it!" Kirihara protested.
Sengoku and Saeki look at each other and looks of innocence pass between them. Saeki turns back to Kirihara and fires again, "Such lies."
It was an annoyance to have to duck the projectile, but inside Kirihara preened. Damning Saeki's soul was pretty much a sure-fire thing... almost a freebie. He thought that even if Sengoku tried to set him on the path to redemption, Saeki would probably veer way left of it.
"I never lie!" Kirihara protested, meeting Sengoku's eyes in challenge. Angels always had to tell the truth, and devils almost always lied to keep things going. It made life interesting.
"Sure you do," Sengoku countered with lazy disagreement, "All the time." He didn't call it lying, he called it restructuring the truth. He also didn't worry too much about fighting for things that he couldn't win. Saeki was nearly assured to fall, but Sengoku figured they'd make good friends when he rose to demonhood in the future -- that was a surer thing than his initial fall.
Saeki, his accuracy apparently in doubt if he missed Kirihara, was more than happy to reload and fire again.
Yuuta's expression became even more pained as Saeki misfired and hit him in the cheek. "Saeki!" he growled, feeling his temper about to go.
Saeki just waved at him, "Yo, sorry, man," he grinned, "You could just come over to our side and spare yourself."
"I choose my own side," Yuuta said icily. Mizuki chuckled and leaned over to give him a rather excessive kiss.
It finally made Kamio snap. He'd been watching quietly, hoping they'd stop, but in the end the rather blatant male PDA turned his stomach. He was not comfortable at all... it reminded him of the time Shinji had tried- well, it wasn't one of his favorite memories.
Slamming his book closed, he rose to his feet, ready to stalk out after giving everyone a piece of his mind, but a gentle hand on his shoulder paused him.
"Akira, take a deep breath," Tachibana, the TA, advised, a calm expression on his face.
This was one of the moments where Sengoku was mortally tempted to say something along the lines of 'from somewhere about here' and point in dubious directions. He bit his lip to stop the snicker from the thought and elbowed Saeki to do it instead. Saeki, ever ready to pipe up at the golden opportunity, delivered these words of wisdom, "Take a chill pill, man."
Kamio, who'd been calming down under Tachibana's soothing presence, lit up like a firecracker. "I don't want you to tell me what to do! All I want is to get out homework done, but you two seem more intent on inciting the class perverts!"
Mizuki sniffed at Kamio is disdain, "We are not perverts. Saeki may be a pervert, but we aren't. Isn't that right, Yuuta?"
The only thing more entertaining than watching Kamio explode, Saeki thought, was watching Mizuki explode. To this end, he casually laid a hand on Sengoku's leg and gave it a stroke, "That's me, perverted all the way."
"Aww, honey, I didn't know you cared! But what will the kids say?" Sengoku simpered, a truly disturbing sight, and tossed an arm around Saeki's shoulders.
"I don't know what the kids will say, but their babysitter says it's a good idea to use class time wisely," Tachibana replied. His smile wasn't at all mocking, and took the wind out of their sails. Strangely, his words actually had a positive effect. Mizuki sniffed and opened his book, and Kamio returned to his seat.
Kirihara fumed inside. Things had been going so well... and then that jerk had butted in, putting out the fire before it could get properly blazing.
That decided it. Along with damning Sengoku, he was going to bring Tachibana down. Down - to hell, that was.
END PART TWO