Chapter Text
“We’re not going to fit,” Shin says dubiously.
“We’ll fit,” Natsuki deadpans.
Truth is, there’s barely enough room on this office chair for the both of them. But when has anything ever stopped the ever-so stubborn Natsuki? He doesn’t really use his dorm— but Shin is here, so he’s working in his room instead of studying at the workshop.
In typical Natsuki fashion, the room feels simultaneously organized and chaotic at the same time. “An organized mess,” as Natsuki calls it. Shin’s not going to touch anything in this room except for the chair, Natsuki, and the bed. One wrong move, and he’ll get blown up. He’s already learnt his lesson the hard way— don’t go through Natsuki’s belongings unless you want to get blown to smithereens. Fucking sadist.
“Aren’t you supposed to be studying?” Shin grumbles.
Natsuki turns to his side, and pouts. Pouts. “Can’t I do both?”
Grown ass man, Shin thinks.
The weapon’s department is much less practical and hands-on than the assassin’s department is. Shin’s homework: list and label all the parts of a .22 pistol, record a video of you assembling and disassembling the pistol in less than 10 seconds, and a couple of physical workout regimes. Natsuki’s homework: textbook questions, textbook questions, textbook questions. Both are equally time consuming and challenging.
The weapons and assassin department require an intense amount of effort— both Natsuki and Shin practically live in the lab or the practice grounds. Rigorous courses call for rigorous preparation, after all. That’s what Shin’s failing to understand— see, if both of them are high academic achievers at the JCC, and both of them take their work seriously, why’s he acting so…
“Quit pulling up my shirt! Finish your textbook questions!”
“Hm?” Natsuki leans onto Shin, “I was just trying to put my arms around you.”
“I can feel your hands crawling over my stomach.”
“I’m a sensory learner,” Natsuki says, as if that justifies things, “I learn better when I’m touching things.”
“I can feel you crawling everywhere over me.”
They probably look ridiculous. Two grown men squished together on a dorm room chair. Window opened, summer heat sneaking in, A.C. box working overtime. Natsuki’s legs are draped over Shin’s thighs, sweat blending together, their shoulders packed together without a millimetre of space between them.
“Don’t be like that. I work better with you near me,” Natsuki replies, leaning closer to kiss the underside of Shin’s jaw. His bangs are sticky. Shin leans closer and lets him kiss all he wants.
“Why’re you so clingy today?”
A pause. “I’m not acting clingy.”
Shin raises a brow, and turns his head to get a good look at Natsuki’s face. He’s really not joking. He looks gobsmacked. “Were you this stupid with all your partners, or is it just me.” It comes out as a statement more than a question.
“It’d be romantic and probably the right answer to say it’s just you, but once, I let a girl put my hands behind my back and keep me under her desk until she let me go, so…”
Shin shoves his shoulder into him, as best as he can. “You’re gross.”
“A real man does whatever his partner tells him to do.” Then: “Don’t worry, Shin. You’re the only one I’d feel up in my dorm. I’ve never let anyone into my dorm before,” Natsuki says with all seriousness.
“I’m not jealous,” Shin retorts. But the thought of him being the one to take Natsuki’s dorm-room visiting virginity makes him want to laugh. He’s so stupid.
“I know,” Natsuki replies breezily. “I’m just letting you know. You’re special.” Shin looks down to Natsuki’s hand sliding up his thigh. He gives a pointed look in response, but an idea pops into his head.
“Tell you what,” Shin starts, “one question, one kiss. Just a kiss.”
It’s hard to miss the light in Natsuki’s eyes. He tries to hide it, but he's so easy, like a puppy, folding under zero pressure.
Natsuki raises his brows. “Wow. A reward for being good?” He buries himself into Shin’s chest. He wants to just eat Shin up there and then, but he always does what Shin wants, no matter how much he disagrees with it.
Shin grumbles. “I’m going to the bed.”
::
“You’re staring,” Natsuki smirks, turning around to eye Shin, “but it’s okay, I don’t mind you looking at me.”
“Eyes back on your page,” Shin replies pointedly.
“I’m almost finished,” Natsuki whines, but he turns his head back to his desk obediently.
“C’mon, Seba-senpai, you need to focus.”
“Don’t say that,” Natsuki responds gravely.
Shin’s such an ass. His eyes light up with glee. “Aw. Why? Are nicknames what does it for you?”
“Shut up.” He’s all flushed. Even the tips of his ears are pink. It’s uncharacteristically cute of him. No wonder Natsuki’s so popular. His good looks are one thing, but his gap moe is another. Shin laughs, tongue in cheek. Natsuki bangs his head on his desk. He ends up bumping his leg against his desk and swears under his breath.
“I’m finished, Shin. Where’s my reward?”
Shin walks over and kisses him on the cheek.
Natsuki tilts his head backwards and glares at Shin. “Are you serious right now?”
Shin grabs him by the lobe in response. “Don’t get greedy.” Natsuki can feel his fingertips gripping around the metal ball. It takes a lot of strength for him to stifle a moan.
“Freak,” Shin grimaces.
Is he reading Natsuki’s mind?
Shin tries to take his hand off, but Natsuki’s fingers catch Shin’s wrist before he can retract them. “Keep them here.”
“Are you serious?”
“I told you, I work better with you near me.”
“Hands to yourself.”
Natsuki’s hands move before he can tell them to. “Yeah, yeah, dude.” Shin’s thumb tenderly meets his face, caressing under his eye, right where his singular mole is.
::
It’s been five minutes. Natsuki feels light-headed.
“Wait,” Shin says.
Natsuki pauses. His pencil loosely falls from his grasp.
Shin clicks his tongue. “You made a mistake.”
Natsuki breathes in. “Yeah?”
Shin’s still standing behind the chair— his dogtag chain dangles dangerously near Natsuki’s face.
Natsuki swallows dryly.
“Yeah.”
Shin’s still rattling on about his homework. “You used the wrong numbers. Your math’s not wrong, though, if those were the numbers in the question, your answer would be right, but—”
It’s Natsuki’s breaking point. The low hum of the air conditioning. The sound of students blowing things up in the lab. The way his legs stick to the chair. The glint of metal, when the sun meets Shin’s chain. Shin is still hovering over the chair. Natsuki maneuvers the chair to face him before Shin can react. “Shin, I’m really sorry, but I really couldn’t give a fuck about my homework right now.”
Shin giggles. “Yeah? Look at you. All worked up over nothing, Seba.”
“Shut up,” Natsuki frowns, and then: “shut up,” Natsuki says again, just for good measure. Natsuki’s hands meet Shin’s hipbone. Shin pushes him to the back of his chair: Natsuki lets him. Shin’s legs are all over him. Before he knows it, he finds his hands sliding up under Shin’s tank top, instantly reaching up towards Shin’s chest.
He pushes his two fingers around Shin’s nipples. “You should let me pierce these. It’d be so hot.”
“Dude,” Shin says blankly, “no way in hell. I wouldn’t be able to wear these sexy ribbed Uniqlo tank tops anymore.”
Then: “Well. Maybe if you let me pierce yours first. Eye for an eye? You know I’ve always been interested in you getting yours pierced. ”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time. I’d probably like the way they’d chafe up against my tight tanks and loose jackets too.”
Shin shoves his hands into Natsuki’s baggy shorts without warning.
“Fuck,” Natsuki manages, “Shin.” Natsuki pushes closer against him, canting his hips upwards for more friction. His hands wander all over Shin like an invasive species. Like he’s trying to get inside of Shin’s skin. He tilts his head in for a kiss, and moans into Shin’s mouth at an embarrassingly loud volume.
“We should pierce your tongue too,” Shin starts, “keep you from being so mouthy all the time.”
Natsuki nods. He’ll recreate all of the scenes on Shin’s checklist if it means he can come. “Shin, I’ve been really good.”
“Yeah, Seba?”
Natsuki feels crazy. He’s always crazy around Shin. Always doing embarrassing shit. Always saying embarrassing shit. Always acting out of character. It’s horrible. It’s mortifying.
“Don’t call me that,” he says, irrationally irritated, “not when you’re feeling me up, yeah?”
“Natsuki,” Shin laughs, knowingly, “come on.”
Shin moves a hand to pet his hair. Natsuki’s knees nearly buckle. He leans into the touch. They’re so close, but it’s not enough. It’s not like the sex is crazy. There’s just something different about Shin that gets him going. He knows how to get Natsuki all worked up. Not that he’ll ever admit it.
Shin grabs him by the nape of his neck, puts his mouth on Shin’s neck, sucking hard. He should close his eyes. But Natsuki looks down at Shin’s collarbones. He can’t stop thinking about it. The dogtag. The metal around his neck. It’s driving him crazy. Natsuki is filled with the sudden urge to grab him by the chain and fuck Shin until he’s pliant and happy and quiet.
Shin clocks him before he can even open his mouth. “You’re lucky I put up with your shit,” Shin rolls his eyes. He grabs Natsuki by the wrist and puts his hand against his fly. Natsuki becomes hyper aware of the thighs so close to his fingers. He pauses. He falters.
“Come on, Natsuki,” Shin laughs, “What are you waiting for? Are you going to fuck me good, or am I?”
Natsuki stares at him uselessly. “I’ll treat you so well,” he manages.
::
“Just so you know,” Shin starts, zipping his jorts back up, “if your 4.0 GPA drops, I’m dumping you.”
“Shin-senpai,” Natsuki drawls lazily in bed, “you would never.”
Shin’s about to get off the bed, but Natsuki grabs him before he can. His long, bony, fingers, wrap around Shin’s wrist.
“Stay here. It’s not too late yet. Actually, you should just live here with me forever.” Natsuki thinks loudly.
“I’m tired. I want a beef bowl from the caf,” Natsuki says. Which means: you need to get me a beef bowl from the caf.
Shin doesn’t let him know he heard his thoughts. It’s not like neither of them could help it. Shin wasn’t tuning into them on purpose, and Natsuki wasn’t thinking it loudly on purpose.
“It’s what friends do, yeah?”
Natsuki’s fingers climb up his forearms. Shin turns his head to Natsuki. He puts his hand into Natsuki’s palm.
Instinctively, Natsuki brings them up towards his lips.
Shin sighs. “What would you do without me?”
”Come on. Up.”
Natsuki grumbles, but forces himself out of the sheets. Natsuki turns around and half-heartedly pulls his tank over his body slowly. It’s almost uncanny to see Natsuki so vulnerable. Without his large, oversized jackets hiding his frame, he’s less scary. His build is smaller than it looks. He’s more human. More real. More fragile. They aren’t words that belong next to Natsuki’s name, but.
Shin studies the delicate grooves and curves of Natsuki’s back. Takes a real, good look at it. For some reason, the sight makes his heart twist. These days, it feels like he can’t leave Natsuki behind.