Momoshiro Takeshi / Kikumaru Eiji
Comfort
Momo sat in complete and abject horror as he gazed at his sobbing sempai, sitting just across the table from him. Momo, predictably, had no idea what to say or do to comfort the redhead, so he merely sat in awkward silence, ignoring the people watching them as he wolfed down his seventh burger.
"What am I going to do," Eiji murmured finally, his sobs quieting to hurt sniffles. "I-I didn't mean to yell at Oishi. Now he'll hate me forever."
"Well—"
"Why is it that big of a deal," Eiji interrupted, pouting, "it shouldn't matter to him that I don't top, I like the bottom, and he likes the top, but I shouldn't have yelled at him."
"If—"
"What'll I do if Oishi hates me. What'll I do if he doesn't want me anymore? Should I try and top him Momo?"
"You—"
"But then I'd be compromising who I am and Fuji told me once that's bad and he'd never change for Tezuka . . ."
Momo glared, tired of being cut off so many times when his sempai didn't even seem to be paying attention. Suddenly though, the redheads wide, childlike eyes locked onto his, hope sparkling in them and Momo couldn't find it in him to be annoyed anymore.
"Momo-chan! You're a genius!"
"What?"
"I'll borrow Fuji's maid's outfit and his handcuffs! The last time I was in a skirt, Oishi couldn't take his hands off me, and if he wants sex then he'll have to forgive me!" Eiji cackled, leaping over the table and glomping a horrified and embarrassed Momo senseless. "Nya, thanks Momo," the redhead exclaimed fondly before bouncing out of the restaurant and down the street.