A/N: The entire last scene of this chapter has been re-written. Those who read the story when this note was absent must reread the last section of the chapter before moving on.
Ain't It Funny?
When he opens his eyes the ceiling above is unfamiliar. Tyson frowns as he rolls to his right to check the time on his phone. But there's no phone beside his pillow. And...when did he buy that lamp?
Or that nightstand?
He sits upright, groggily, taking in his surroundings. Beige sheets and dark grey blankets. Built-in wall shelves and roll up curtains. He recognizes the room with alarm.
He's in Kai's bedroom.
In Kai's bed.
What the fuck is he doing here?
Oh god, the smell. He hates that smell.
Tyson checks his pockets for his phone. He's not even wearing his own clothes! What the hell happened last night?
He puts his head in his hands. Eyes against palms.
The previous night comes back to him slowly. In snippets first then all at once.
Tyson looks up.
Stares at the wall facing him.
He's a free man. He can barely believe it. No sex tape. No demon lords. He's free!
Three and a half weeks of being treated like a pig. Over!
No more!
He wants to dance with joy.
Tyson climbs out of the bed with a gigantic smile on his lips.
Where's his phone? He checks his pockets once more. They go a little deep. He feels the chip.
He needs to get out of these clothes. Feels way too strange to be wearing someone else's shit. Especially when said someone was his mortal enemy less than ten hours ago.
His phone is missing.
He glimpses something on the nightstand just as he's about to walk out of the room.
His phone!
Tyson runs toward the device. Checks the time. 06:24 a.m. That's good. He's only been here for five hours then. Not too long. Time to blast.
He opens the door cautiously. There's voices in the hall. And they sound way too energetic and serious for six in the morning.
What's going on? He enters the hall.
"No, no," he hears Julia say. The sounds are coming from the kitchen. "He owed money to him way before any of this happened. Hiruta and the Horsemen have been on his ass for weeks. Literal weeks."
He peeks into the kitchen.
There's a small gathering scattered around the table. The Blitzkriegs and Julia sitting and discussing about something at length and with vigour at dawn.
Bryan's hunched in his chair, holding an ice pack to his jaw. Tala's rolling his eyes, opposing Julia's argument. She talks over him, animating her points with her hands, flawless legs crossed one over the other. Sergei looks on with a bored, and slightly miffed expression. Ian's the only one sitting properly at the table, silently eating a sandwich.
Kai's leaning against the counter, drinking coffee from a mug, his attention honed in on the conversation. He's in all black. Black tee, black sweats.
They've all changed out of their ball outfits and put on casual clothes, but some of them don't look like they've slept. He cannot tell with Julia, because she always looks stunning, even in halter tops and jean shorts with her hair pulled back carelessly into a clip.
"He has a right to be angry!" defends Julia.
"I swear if I see that fucker Hiruta's face again, I will gut him like a fish," growls Bryan. "I don't care what any of you say. He's dead. Dead."
"You think Kai's going to agree with you?" Tala tosses back, then swivels in his chair to ask the man himself. "Kai?"
"He stole his girlfriend, man," interjects Ian.
"I don't think he should have let him go," says Kai, his tone harsh and biting. "If we take our foot off of their necks, they'll come at us in hoards."
"But you should have seen his face," Tala turns back to the others, laughing, pearly white teeth gleaming, raising his steepled palms to his face. "It was fucked up. Bryan, what the fuck, you throat-ripper?"
Kai notices him standing by the door. Tyson feels a jolt when their eyes meet.
He leaves the counter.
Tyson wrenches his gaze to the floor, ruffling his hair, mostly out of nerves, but also because he just realized he's here straight out of bed and probably looks like a zombie.
He's rubbing at his eyes when he feels a presence before him.
Tyson glances up.
"Do you always get up so early?" asks Kai, the contents of the mug steaming. How is he drinking that? Wouldn't his tongue burn?
The coffee smells nice though. He wants some too.
"Yeah" His voice comes out raspy. He clears his throat.
"Thirsty?" Kai asks, offering the drink in his hand.
It's not the same as all the other times he did it. That was him being an asshole back then. Trying to get under his skin. Make him uncomfortable. There's an unsettling undercurrent beneath it now. He's not sure what to make of it. Tyson exhales.
"No" He shoots him a thin smile. "No, thank you. I should go."
Kai's lips quirk up in a smirk. There's a glint in his eye. "Your dried clothes are folded on the bed. Take them with you."
"Oh! Thank you." Tyson nods, backing a step. It's so weird to have Kai treat him like a person. Talking to him. Really talking. Not ordering him around. "I'll- yeah."
The noises in the kitchen suddenly crest. Bryan, Julia and Tala shout at the same time. Over each other.
Kai spares them a glance over his shoulder, then goes back to drinking his coffee.
"What...is going on?" Tyson asks him hesitantly, not expecting a proper answer.
His gaze is steady. "Blowing a cock fight out of proportion," Kai explains, disdain in his tone. "Nothing to bother about."
"Right" he says eyeing them. "I'll get going then." He turns back to Kai. He was kind to him last night. The decent thing to do is thank him. "Thank you for letting me stay here, and for the clothes, and...and everything else."
Kai nods. "You sure you don't want anything to eat or drink before you go?"
"Um no," Tyson's already in the hall. He gives him a smile. "Bye"
He walks to the bedroom quickly. And does not turn to look over his shoulder at Kai. No matter how badly he wants to.
He's free.
He's free!
Tyson remembers the note in his suit before he heads out for classes that day.
He takes a shot of the note and translates the text in the image with the help of Google.
Tyson smiles when he sees the result, a light flutter in his chest.
'Thank you for working hard. You have earned my respect,' reads the screen.
When he steps out of the dorm, the sun shines happily in the sky after three continuous days of rain and gloom.
"I'm free!" is the first thing he shouts to his friends when he meets up with them in the courtyard.
"What?" asks Michael, still half-asleep, one eye smaller than the other. "What do you mean you're free?"
"For tonight?" shoots Eddie. "Great! Let's go bowling. I've been wanting to go for a long time."
"No! I'm free as in I'm not Kai's bitch anymore!" He waits, with wide open mouth and arms for the boys to get it.
"Seriously?" The looks of surprise and delight on their faces are priceless. They pounce on him.
"Fuck, man," Eddie gives him a bro side hug. Michael pats his shoulder. Rick bumps fists with him.
"We gotta celebrate!" says Rick.
"How? What did you do?" asks Michael as they begin walking towards the building.
"You flipped and killed him last night for real, didn't you?"
"No" Tyson laughs, and it floats over the bustle of students talking in the courtyard.
"That dickhead decide he's had enough of being satan's son?"
"Try being good for a change?"
"No"
They disappear into the building.
"You have no idea how much this relieves me," Hilary mumbles into his shoulder, her hair smelling like shampoo. "God, I felt so bad. I've been feeling like the worst person on earth this entire month. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. I was so worried and guilty." She steps back with a gigantic loaded sigh. There's this look of absolute relief on her face that Tyson cannot help but smile.
"The missed classes. The late night runs. I was literally dying of guilt," she says, squeezing both of his hands for a minute. She lets go to reach into her backpack. "Here. You can borrow all of my notes from the classes we share and I've asked notes from your classmates from the ones we don't. Emily's volunteered to tutor you. I have your academics covered."
"Yeah, I don't really need a tutor, but thanks for the notes," he takes the notebooks from her with a sheepish laugh.
"I'm done for the day. I'm going to go home. Catch up on some sleep. I feel super tired." Hilary puts on a hand on his arm. "Can we talk later?"
"Yeah"
"Promise?"
"Yeah" He grins.
"I love you" she leans forward to hug him again, pressing a kiss on his cheek.
"Not in the hallway, Hil," Tyson pushes her away, embarrassed, smiling from ear to ear. "People are going to judge."
Hilary rolls her eyes, hiking her bag up her shoulder. "They already think we're dating anyway." She turns to leave. "Bye" She waves.
"Bye" he says, and he's backed up by a choir. Mike and Rick. He whirls to give them a stinky eye. "What the fuck," he mutters to them.
Hilary giggles as she sashays down the stairs.
The boys laugh. Tyson joins them near the windows, jumping on the ledge next to Michael.
"Look at the girls in the quad, man," grumbles Rick, eyeing the courtyard below.
Tyson looks out the open window.
Mike nudges his foot. "How did things with go with Mariam last night?"
"Meh" he shifts against the wall. "She's a nice girl and everything, but I just..." He lifts a shoulder in a shrug. "There's nothing there. You know? No pull. No magnetism...electricity."
His friends chortle.
"Eddie has this theory about you," says Rick.
"Oh yeah? Let's hear it." Tyson leans forward eagerly, legs folded on the ledge, forearms crossed over the book bag in his lap.
"So he thinks you're still not over Maria."
"Of course I'm over Maria. What the fuck?"
Mike's eye twitches.
"No, not her, but what went down with her." Rick nods at him sagely, like he just spewed some serious wisdom. "You're still haunted by the memories."
Tyson slaps a palm on his own face. "That's so gay," mutters Mike.
"What's gay about it?" Rick is into it now. "She fucked him over, man. What she did was so not cool."
"Yeah and we've discussed this how many times now?" Tyson gets a little mad. "Let it go, man. That shit's in the past." He glances out the window.
"Ooh" hums Mike, exchanging a look with Rick. "Someone's a bit touchy."
Tyson sighs emphatically.
He hears heavy footsteps bound up the stairs. Finally, some distraction.
Tyson turns to see the Blitzkriegs walk up the steps. His face lights up immediately.
"Hey, Kai," he greets with a slight grin. Kai's gaze lifts to him as he climbs up, then slides away unceremoniously, as if he saw nothing there but a piece of boring white wall.
His entourage pounce on it like hyenas. They burst into snickers and snorts like a group of whales and pigs.
Tyson's face burns hot.
Their jeers echo in his ears as he turns back around stiffly, mortar in his gut.
His friends wait till they have passed to react. Mike gives him a light shove, his expression asking him 'why did you do that?'
Rick squawks.
Tyson swats Michael away, cheeks flaming red with the shame of rejection.
He doesn't tell her about the suit, or the note, or the fact that he spent the night at Kai's house. Because it sounds fucking weird.
Hilary drinks vodka from her opaque silver flask, sitting on the block of partition separating the rollerblading rink from the bowling alley.
Tyson tugs at the hem of her skirt to get her attention.
She slaps his hand off, taking another swig.
She's mad. And the reason is the group of three third year girls from their university having a fun time a few lanes down. The hottest of them, struts up to the lane in her high heels, wielding a nine pound ball and throws. A perfect strike. Her friends whoop and groan as she spins proudly, arms in the air.
Michael runs up to the lane closer to them, gathering some momentum before shooting the ball. "Yeah!" he cries, Eddie and Rick hugging him when he miraculously knocks down all the pins for the first time that night.
Tyson snorts watching them.
Hilary huffs irritatedly, her attention still on Kristina and the girls.
She raises the flask to her lips. "How does shy manage to keep herself that skinny? God, does she eat nothing?"
Tyson narrows his eyes at the girl.
"She looks athletic to me."
"She's not bulky or too bony. She's built like one of those Victoria's Secret models. God, I hate her."
Tyson grimaces as Hilary takes another long sip of her vodka.
Eddie walks up to the lane next. "Alright, my time to shine," he mutters to himself, drawing the cross on his body. He heaves the ball up to his face to kiss it (ew) before hurling it with all his strength.
It rolls into the gutter.
"That's not the technique, my man!" shouts Michael.
"Move aside, my turn," Rick lifts a ball from the rack beside Hilary and Tyson.
"Watch and learn, noobs." Rick takes his shot. A strike. He swings around with a smug look.
"Tyson, your turn!"
"Excusez moi" he says to Hilary, then saunters toward his friends for the ball. He knocks down all but one. Tyson winces as he misses the last pin by a hairsbreadth. "So close"
"Move"
There's a gaggle of shouts and squeals from the third years. Tyson glances over his shoulder at them once. They're at a tie breaker.
Kristina versus Hinata. Hilary's watching their match keenly. He has a guess who she's rooting for.
Tyson leans against the partition beside her legs, arms folded. A grin on his face.
Hilary catches his expression and kicks him in the side.
"What?"
"You know damn well what."
Tyson chuckles, rubbing his ribs. "Can I have some?" he asks, reaching for the vodka.
She hands it to him.
Kristina wins. The stomp of her heels are loud in the oddly acoustic space.
Hilary demands the flask back. Fingers snapping.
Her reaction to Kristina brings a question to Tyson's tongue. He knows she's over Kai, but she despises everything and everyone he touches now.
"Hil," Tyson taps her thigh, looking up at her from under his lashes.
The puppy eyes never fail to gain her attention.
Hilary raises her eyebrows at him, lips around the mouth of the flask.
Tyson leans closer so no one else hears. She moves nearer in response. Intrigued.
"I've been wanting to ask," He picks at his sleeve as he talks, "Did Kai mention it was going to be strictly physical between you two the night you met?"
Her chocolate brown irises stare into his matching ones. He can see himself in them. She sits up with a sigh, looking ahead. "Yeah. He did." She juts out her jaw, thinking. "He did say it was going to be just sex when we first met, but...how do I explain this? He kinda gets inside your head. And I guess got carried away. I mean who wouldn't be when he looks at you with those eyes?"
Her expression sours again, drinking from the flask. "I guess she's pretty enough for him to see her more than once," she says bitterly, watching Kristina as she laughs with her friends, shiny brown hair falling around her shoulders in waves.
Tyson turns to look at her. "Or may be it's because she's not in love with him," he suggests gingerly, trying to comfort her.
Hilary harrumphs, glowering. "Fuck these people," she curses, bringing the vodka to her mouth.
Regardless of how she feels about 'the people', she still drags him to 'the people's' house after they leave the bowling alley for the party.
The amount of times these assholes party in a single week is fucking atrocious.
Tyson feels nauseated as the music pounds in his head. Hard Russian rap spits from the speakers. He agreed to come along because he had cargo to drop. Kai's clothes that he'd borrowed the previous night.
Hilary's so drunk she doesn't notice the small bag in his hand when she stumbles into the house with him.
"I want to do drugs," she slurs.
"Yeah? You want molly?" Tyson rolls his eyes.
"No. Something stronger. Strong enough to make me forget him," she breathes into his face. He smells vodka and lemon, and may be the cheeseburger she had before that.
"That's great," he tells her. "Shall we go to the kitchen?"
"Is that where the stuff is?"
"Oh yeah!" Stuff. She knows the lingo. Tyson's impressed.
He guides her to the least noisiest place in the house and props her against the counter. He gives her a cup of plain water to drink.
"I've mixed some..." He gestures, swiping his thumb under his nose twice, looking her dead in the eye. "You know?"
"Shh" Hilary shushes him, accepting the water.
"Now, don't drink it fast. Take small sips, okay?"
"Yeah" Hilary pushes him off. "I got this." She takes a tiny gulp.
"Good. Stay here. I'll be right back."
She waves him bye as he squeezes through bodies in the doorway to reach the hall. He should probably leave the clothes on Kai's bed, but his room remains locked during ragers like this one.
It's too much for him. The crowd. The music. The heat.
He needs a moment to breathe.
Tyson staggers out of the hall, towards the corridor leading to the cliff.
There's a small room, in one corner of the house, longer than it is broader, with its walls lined with aquariums, and neon green lights on the ceiling. Tyson sighs as soon as he closes the door behind him and the music shuts out.
Fuck
Who partied two nights in a row?
He's aware it's a Saturday and Sunday is homework day, but god, wasn't last night fussy enough to last them an entire week?
Or was that just for him?
The door at the far end, leading to the cliff suddenly creaks and Tyson opens his eyes.
Kai's walking in, his phone against his ear. His steps halt when he sees him.
Fucking great. He was the last person he wanted to see.
But hey, since they're pretending not to know each other now, Tyson doesn't have to talk to him. Or look at him.
He drops the bag in his hand on the couch adjacent to the aquarium.
"Your clothes. Thank you," he mutters to him quickly, before breezing past him toward the cliff.
Kai moves the phone away from his ear to stare after him as he goes out the door.
The view from the cliff is breathtaking enough to lessen the intensity of his hard feelings toward Kai.
The city of Tokyo below him is beautiful and calming. Cars move across roads like ants in the distance. The tops of skyscrapers twinkling against the backdrop of the night sky.
He senses Kai join him.
Tyson inhales the cool night air.
"You like the view?" he asks.
"I don't want to talk to you," replies Tyson.
"Hm, why?"
He can see him in his periphery. Wearing a button down and slacks. Hands in his pockets. Jaw raised in the air as he watches the city like he has a claim over it.
"You clearly don't want to be my friend," says Tyson. "You made that obvious on the stairs earlier." The memory still burns him. "I want nothing to do with you either."
Cars honk faintly from somewhere far away.
He hears him chuckle lightly, as though he amuses him. Tyson fumes. "What were you expecting? A 'hi' back? May be a wave?"
"How about a nod?" Tyson turns to look at him. "Of acknowledgement?" Kai meets his eyes, mirth dancing in his irises.
"'Cause you want us to be friends?" he asks, lifting a brow.
"No" Tyson glances away. "Why would I want to be friends with an asshole?" The night chill is starting to creep in, yet his cheeks feel slightly hot.
The breeze is light. And gentle.
Kai is silent for a moment, then he asks, his voice molten honey, "Would you like to be something else then?"
Tyson's heart thuds. Once. Against his ribs. The question throws him off. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what it means," says Kai.
Tyson looks at him. He looks back. His expression is oddly challenging.
Tyson's confused. His lips curve in an unsure smile as he raises his eyebrows at him.
"I don't get it," he admits.
Kai dismisses it with a snort. "Do you smoke?" he asks, drawing a box of cigarettes out of his pocket.
"No" Tyson shakes his head when he offers him one.
He lights one up for himself and inhales deeply, eyes on the Tokyo skyline. He holds the smoke in his lungs for a minute before releasing it slowly in a cloud.
Tyson's disgusted and mesmerized at the same time. He scrunches his nose at him.
"Ever tried?" He turns back to him.
"No"
"Want to?" Kai takes a step closer.
"No" Tyson takes one back.
He lifts it to his mouth again, sucking, gaze smoldering on him.
When he exhales, the cloud of smoke washes over Tyson's face and neck. He inhales some of it into his own lungs.
He's slightly intrigued. To know what it feels like.
Kai reads the curiosity on his features. He walks toward him. Tyson doesn't back away.
He stops when there's only half a foot of distance between their chests. Pulls on the butt of the cigarette again.
Tyson watches on, fascinated, as his cheeks hollow.
When he moves the stub away from his pursed lips, holding the smoke inside, Tyson's gaze falls to his mouth.
"What are you doing?" he asks when Kai leans forward. Towards him.
He's seen people do it. He's not some clueless headass with no idea of what's going on, but he asks just to make sure they both have the same idea in mind.
Kai meets his eyes. Quirks his brows. Do you want it or not?
Tyson nods. Leaning forward. Just the slightest bit.
His lips part. Kai blows smoke between them.
Tyson closes his eyes as the heat enters his mouth, caressing down his tongue.
He inhales. Warmth shoots down his body. Into his crotch.
Kai's lips nearly touch his. Tyson pulls away when he senses he's too close.
Tyson hiccups first. Then starts coughing.
Kai steps back, laughing softly.
He almost retches. "It doesn't taste good," he wheezes, hand over his stomach as his diaphragm clenches.
"Were you expecting smoke to taste like cherries?" Kai takes one long suck of the cigarette before dropping it on the ground and crushing it under his boot.
"No" He straightens up. His ribs hurt. He clears the milky air in front of him by flapping his hands. "No"
Tyson joins Kai near the edge again. "But you're still an asshole."
He watches him wipe his lips with the back of one hand. "Then so are you" he replies.
His eyebrows jump. "Oh yeah? How?"
"You judge people too easily and you think your friends are losers."
"Excuse me?" Tyson turns to face him.
"You treat them with kid gloves and fight all their battles for them as if they are not capable of standing up for themselves," he points out. "You think they're weak."
Tyson breathes quietly. Staring at him. Kai smiles at him slowly, drily. With a smug air about him.
Tyson feels his anger building, but it gets smothered when Kai says, "They're stronger than you think they are."
He glances away, with a small laugh. He keeps challenging him. Taking his viewpoints and turning them around on the head. He doesn't answer his questions directly, instead he asks a question in return. Kai's good at this, Tyson realizes. Challenging his views, his perspective on things. Trying to change them.
"I don't think my friends are losers," he begins slowly. "I don't fight all of their battles for them. I only try to help them. That's not because I think they're weak or they cannot fight for themselves. I do it because...that's what friends do. They help. Not everyone is as selfish as you are. What are you going to do when you see a man drowning, stand on the side and give him a lecture on how to swim?"
Kai snorts. "No. I'd lend a hand if he seems incapable of saving himself, but not before. Whereas you would jump in the moment you see him in the water."
"No, I wouldn't." He would.
"Before he can say 'help'."
Tyson rolls his eyes. "Your arguments are juvenile. I don't see how you win your debates."
"You didn't even make it on the team."
Tyson spins on his heel. Time to leave. Kai's hand closes around the back of his shirt. He pulls him back by the material.
"I swear if you rip the shirt," he warns, struggling on his feet backwards. "Let go"
"What if I throw you off the cliff?"
"The fuck?"
Kai lets go. Tyson smooths his t-shirt over his torso. They stare at each other.
"Go out with me," says Kai, all of a sudden, out of nowhere.
Tyson's heart skips a beat. "What?" he bursts out laughing. Out of shock. Out of hysteria. "What?" He doubles over. He cannot fucking believe what he just heard.
He almost kneels on the ground. His stomach starts to hurt. "Are you fucking serious?" he wheezes in between the cawing.
Kai watches him wordlessly. Slightly surprised.
"I didn't know you batted for the opposite team too," he cries. There are tears in his eyes. He's fucking losing it. He might walk off the cliff out of pure deliriousness.
"So is that a no?" asks Kai.
Tyson was in the process of slowly collecting himself and standing back up, but the second question almost sends him skidding down the side of the rocky cliff edge. "Oh fuck" he curses through the hysterical tears.
After three long minutes he stands back up and says, with the straightest face possible, "Dude no."
Kai glances down once, thinking.
"I didn't know you were into men," says Tyson, honestly.
"I'm not" denies Kai. "I'm into you."
The words make his cheeks heat. But the answer is no. "I um, I'm not...I'm not." Yeah.
"I think that's bullshit," says Kai.
No. He may have fantasized about him, but that's as far as his attraction toward him goes. He doesn't want the dude to be his, what, boyfriend? God, no.
"I'm not going to go on a date with you," he says, perfectly serious.
"Why?" he asks. Not getting it. Guess people never turned him down.
This might even be the first time someone's said no to him. May be.
"Because I don't like men. And even if I did I wouldn't date you. Because you're...selfish and shallow and you don't care about other people's feelings."
Kai looks away with a smirk pulling at the side of his mouth.
"I don't want anything to do with you," admits Tyson.
Someone shouts from inside the house.
Kai gazes at him thoughtfully.
There's about five feet of distance between them. The muted noises of the city filling the silence.
"You're going to take that back, Tyson Granger," says Kai. He's seeing this as a challenge. For fuck's sake.
"No" he replies, shaking his head. "I'm not."
Tyson turns on his heel, trekking back to the house. God, help him.
