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"Senpai," Kamui says, and somehow, even though he's smiling and his voice is polite, the word feels like cold mockery. "What are you up to?"
Takasugi climbs off his heels and kicks the nearest guy in the face. The guy groans and then passes out next to the half dozen other people on the ground. Kamui's smile stays firm and unmoving during this scene.
"Why are you asking?" Takasugi asks. "You've been watching the entire time haven't you?"
"Sure," he says with a dismissive shrug. "But small talk doesn't seem to be your strength."
"Brat. Why aren't you in class?"
"If I were in class I'd have missed your third fight of the week. So what did these guys do? Try to steal your wallet? Breathe too loudly?"
"I do hate mouth breathers." Takasugi steps over the body by his feet and pulls out a cigarette. He doesn't bother turning to see if Kamui will follow when he walks away.
Kamui pulls up at his side holding a lighter. Takasugi raises an eyebrow but takes the offered light anyway.
"Picking up smoking?"
"Oh no, never," Kamui says. "It's an ugly habit!"
Takasugi straightens up and blows a long stream of smoke in the other's face. "Good for you."
He doesn't feel like going back to class, not when he's left a pile of bodies out behind the school, so he doesn't. He hops the fence and heads out, Kamui only a few steps behind him.
This thing he has with Kamui started only a couple weeks earlier, when the boy had transferred to their school. He knew the exact day when Kamui had transferred because the underclassmen had come straight to him during lunch and introduced himself.
"Yeah?" Takasugi had said, not looking away from his food. "And why should I care what your name is?"
"Because we're going to be friends, Takasugi-senpai," Kamui had said, a subtle but eerie emphasis on "friends" making Takasugi reluctant to immediately shoot him down.
Kamui had taken that as blanket permission to follow Takasugi around and get into his business whenever it pleased him. And it apparently pleased him often because it seemed like whenever he turned around these days Kamui was there, watching him pick fights with his homeroom teacher, actually fight his classmates, or just hang out with his friends. Takechi had asked who he was when Kamui had first seamlessly joined the four of them walking home.
"I'm Kamui," he'd said simply.
"Uh-huh? You think you can just follow us around?" Matako asked.
"Not at all. I don't care about any of you people. I'd just like to be around Takasugi-senpai."
And since Takasugi had laughed at that no one tried to kick his ass for speaking out of line, though there'd been a tense air around them the rest of the way home. Kamui didn't seem to mind.
"There something wrong with that kid," Bansai says to him one day. They're at Takasugi's place, just the four of them.
"I can tell," Takasugi says.
"Something really wrong with him. Are you sure you want him following you around?"
"He's... " the word harmless doesn't feel right. "Doesn't matter. I don't care what he does."
"He probably has a crush on you, Shinsuke-senpai," Matako says. She's got a box cutter in her hand that she slides repeatedly open and closed.
"He has a very intense way of looking at you," Takechi agrees.
"Like you're one to talk fish face," Matako says.
"I don't think it's as benign as a crush," Bansai says. "I feel like—Shinsuke did you ever run into that kid in the past or something? Maybe kick the shit out of somebody he knows?"
"He says he grew up in China, so I don't see how that's possible."
"You usually fall in love with people who beat up your friends Bansai-senpai?" Matako asks.
"That's my point. I don't think the kid is in love with Shinsuke.” Bansai tugs his headphones down with a frown. “I think he wants to kill him."
"Matako thinks you're in love with me," Takasugi says.
Kamui pauses in the middle of bandaging up Takasugi's hand to stare at him. "Really? How could she tell?"
The mocking grin slides off Takasugi's face. "What?"
Kamui looks away, a hand held near his chest. "You're not going to trample all over my feeling, are you?"
"Stop that. It's gross."
The innocent, lovelorn look vanishes as Kamui starts to laugh. "Sorry, sorry! I just didn't realize that Matako was that much of an idiot."
"What do you expect people to think when you follow someone around like a puppy?"
"I don't really care," Kamui says cheerfully, always so damn cheerfully. He finishes the bandaging but is holding on too tightly. It hurts worse than the original scrapes on Takasugi’s knuckles. "It's not my problem. Unless your sense of masculinity is so fragile that some rumors about a clingy underclassman are enough to shatter it?"
"Personally I don't give a damn." Takasugi shakes Kamui's hand lose and grabs him by the chin. "But that's not a direct answer. You got a crush on senpai?"
Kamui's smile is somewhat squashed beneath Takasugi's fingers. "I'm not a child. I don't fall in love."
Takasugi believes his denial. He also remains aware of how intently Kamui's eyes track him across a room, how satisfied he looks after Takasugi's been in a fight, how endlessly fascinated he is by Takasugi's strength and his penance for violence.
It occurs to Takasugi that he may have asked the wrong question.
Kamui stands too close one day when he's watching Takasugi fight and Takasugi not so accidentally winds up knocking one of his opponents into a collision course with him. He isn't sure what he was expecting but somehow he isn't surprised when Kamui's smile sharpens and he throws his knee into his opponent's stomach so hard that the guy vomits and faints.
"That was sloppy," Kamui says, twirling his umbrella.
"My bad," Takasugi says, but he's smiling too hard to be apologetic. "You can fight."
"You could say that," Kamui says and suddenly the past couple months make perfect sense. "Is something the matter?"
"You." Takasugi takes a few more steps towards him. "Can fight."
Kamui smile widens. "Yes," he says. "I can fight."
"You little shit." Takasugi shakes his head. "You've just been standing on the sidelines."
"Why would I want to share you?" Kamui blinks at Takasugi's sudden laughter. "What? You didn't think I'd help you in a fight, did you?"
"Not really, no."
"Good. If you weren't strong enough to take on a few teenage punks on your own what would be the point of our friendship?"
"You're hurting my feelings. And here I thought I was teaching my kouhai some valuable life lessons."
"Well sure," Kamui says. "I'm learning plenty."
He doesn't stop Kamui from following him around after that. If anything he lets himself put on more of a show when he fights, leaving his knife untouched, refusing to call his friends to help him, and going entire fights without anyone landing a single hit on him. Kamui's attention is fierce and thrilling and Takasugi finds that he doesn't mind it at all.
He has no idea what Kamui does in his free time and he doesn't really bother asking. He doesn't go to class unless Takasugi does, he isn't a part of any after school club, and as far as he can tell Kamui doesn’t have other friends. The only thing he's passionate about is Takasugi.
Because he doesn't ask he has no idea what egregious thing Kamui does to coax the captain of the judo club into a fight. He just assumes random assholes wanting to kill Kamui is normal.
Takasugi finds out about the judo club captain when the guy runs up to Kamui while the two of them are grabbing lunch and tries to punch him out. Kamui silently sidesteps the blow which means that an off guard Takasugi takes the hit square in the face.
Takasugi flexes his jaw as he stares at the mortified student. The bell rings before he can give back as good as he got so he leaves with a promise to catch up with the boy after school.
"Kamui-kun," Takasugi says, leading them down the hall. Kamui is nowhere near where second years have their classes.
"Yes?" Kamui is right back in his normal spot, one pace behind Takasugi, trailing him and invading his space all at once.
Abruptly Takasugi turns on his heel and takes a swing. His fist dents the drywall beside the other's head. Kamui looks nothing less than delighted by the turn of events.
"Ye-es?" Kamui repeats.
Takasugi yanks his fist free, dislodging flecks of paint. He grabs Kamui by the braid and keeps walking. "We're going to the roof. I need a smoke."
"Of course."
Kamui is eating someone's bento—not his own with that heart print—when Takasugi and the judo club captain arrive. He waves but stays seated.
It's over quickly. Not quickly enough for Takasugi's taste but a solid uppercut knocks the captain down and after that he runs for it.
"Waste of my time," Takasugi mutters, straightening out his uniform.
"Congratulations," Kamui says. He holds out a package of bread.
"What am I, your dog?"
Kamui only smiles and keeps holding it out towards him.
Takasugi takes the bread, but only because he's never seen Kamui give up food before.
"Why do you think people go to zoos?"
"Penguins?" Takasugi guesses. "I've never been, how the hell should I know?"
"I always assumed everyone was there to watch beasts that could kill them march around harmlessly in their little cages," Kamui says. "Sometimes dulled by their environments until they're fat and lazy but other times making the best of their cages, waiting for someone to get too close so they can remember how live prey taste."
Takasugi lowers his bread.
"At least that's what I thought as a kid."
"What a fun child you must've been. And what do you think now?"
Kamui hums. "It's probably the penguins."
After this familiar pattern has gone on for a while Takasugi starts to feel like his relationship with Kamui should be a little more reciprocal.
He sets Kamui up for a surprise in the form of a rival gang who thinks that he, not Takasugi, is responsible for beating up their leader. The guys mob up around him in larger numbers than he expected, some even armed with pipes, and Takasugi sits himself down near the top of the hill and has a smoke.
And, low and behold, Kamui can fight.
Only Takasugi is loath to call it a fight when Kamui doesn't need to lower his umbrella to beat up everyone who comes near him. He's not a particularly elegant fighter but he fights with a monstrous strength, and the attitude of a man who could've been eating a slice of cake instead of punching someone in the throat.
The entire crew goes down easy, freakishly easy, and Takasugi's forgotten to smoke his cigarette so the ashes haven fallen onto his uniform. He brushes them away with a sleeve, unable to look away from where Kamui stands holding his last opponent up by the hair.
He sees Kamui's lips move but he's much too far away to catch his words. The guy he's holding up starts to respond but Kamui is no longer paying attention to him. Kamui is staring up the hill and smiling at Takasugi.
Takasugi smiles back.
Kamui's umbrella falls to the ground. Not looking away from Takasugi he tightens his grip on the other man's hair, ignoring his wince of pain. Takasugi can hear pleading.
Kamui punches hard enough to leave his knuckles newly bloodied, and the other guy with at least a broken nose. Kamui flexes his fist and picks up his closed umbrella. His pace is leisurely as he climbs the hill.
"Good afternoon Takasugi-senpai," Kamui says.
"Good afternoon Kamui-kun."
"I thought you had cleaning duties today."
"Wasn't feeling up for it." Takasugi gets up but as he turns back towards the street Kamui grabs his elbow.
"You know senpai, you're quite the tease."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Kamui pulls him around and now Takasugi can see how his blown pupils have left his eyes dark. His knuckles are bruised and stained red.
"I'm not angry," Kamui says. Cheerful, but also not. Also hungry.
"I didn't think you would be." Takasugi's hands are still in his pockets and he ignores the animal instinct telling him to move them because right now showing weakness would be worse than any imagined danger.
He's not frightened per say but he's certainly not as calm as he's pretending to be. The smile on his face is just as real as the pounding in his veins.
"Next time you want to see me fight," Kamui says, "you'll need to challenge me yourself."
Takasugi lays awake that night and wonders how Kamui knew to find him. Had he followed the rumors of broken bones and split skulls or had he taken one look at Takasugi and felt a match for the beast that lay festering under his skin?
Kamui catches up to him one evening when Takasugi is leaving Bansai's place after a party. One moment Takasugi is tossing a crushed beer can off a bridge and the next Kamui is back at his side like he's materialized out of the dark.
"Evening," he says pleasantly.
"Fucking hell," Takasugi says, dropping the cigarette in his mouth. "What are you a ghost?"
"You look well." Which Takasugi figures translates to you look drunk and defenseless and I've been following you for a while.
Takasugi scoffs. He pulls the last beer from his six pack and holds it out towards Kamui who shakes his head.
"Did you have fun at the party?"
"Sure. Would've invited you but you know everyone hates you."
"Yup. But you don't."
"I'm a friendly guy."
At the door to his apartment Takasugi fumbles his keys and Kamui swiftly catches them before they can hit the floor. Takasugi holds out a hand but Kamui only spins the keys around his point finger.
Takasugi reaches for them and Kamui tosses the keys into his other hand.
Takasugi is not a nice drunk, or a level headed drunk, or a drunk that thinks too much about the future. Instead he's a drunk who wraps a hand around his friend's throat and slams him against the doorframe.
Kamui's smiles stays as wholesome and unwavering as ever and Takasugi must be drunker than he thinks because he's mirroring that smile, even as he squeezes tighter. Kamui doesn't make a move to defend himself but he grabs Takasugi's jacket to pull him in like there's something in Takasugi that he needs more than air.
Takasugi pries his keys out of Kamui's hand and then slowly let's go. Kamui doesn't. The slight heaviness to his breath is the only sign that Takasugi was strongly considering strangling him over his keys.
"What are you doing?"
Kamui's head comes to a rest on his shoulder. "Do you notice the smell of blood around you Takasugi?" he asks. "Because it never seems to go away. Even when you haven't hit anybody in weeks. Is that why you smoke so often? To cover up that smell?"
Kamui turns his head and buries his face at Takasugi's neck. "You shouldn't bother." Every word tickles his skin. "It doesn't work."
"Creep," Takasugi says. "No one's ever said I smell like blood."
"Really? It's too strong for no one else to notice." Kamui inhales and then lets out a shaky breath. "Maybe I'm just imagining it."
"Wouldn't surprise me. You're crazy." He catches Kamui by the hair and pulls his head back. "But who knows? Maybe you're right and everyone else is wrong."
Kamui's hands stays tight on the front of his jacket, refusing to let Takasugi move away.
"You do shit like this too often, you know? Get in my space like it's your right."
"Oh? Why bring it up now? It's not like you care. Nothing I do seems to bother you."
"You're pissing me off right now."
"Really? I'm rude to your friends, I get you into fights for my own entertainment, I basically stalk you. Last week you punched out the class president for commenting on your eye patch. It doesn't really seem fair."
"You're annoying. Why the hell should it matter why I do or don't get angry?"
"Because I get jealous seeing you direct all that rage and bloodlust at people who aren't me." Kamui's tone goes cold, though he continues to smile. "It's not fair that you'll look at me like you want to set me on fire but won't do anything about it."
The fabric strains under Kamui's fingers.
"It's not enough to just watch you. I want your anger too. I want to see what kind of beast you are. Are you too soft and weak to hit me because we're friends? You can't be scared to fight me, can you? I can't think of another reason why you won't just hit me, so which is it? Are you scared or are you weak Takasugi? because if it's either of those then I can just kill you right here for getting my hopes up. I'll be upset if you're just another disappointment so why don't you just show me which you are? Takasu—“
Takasugi slaps a hand over Kamui's mouth. He pulls Kamui's head back before slamming it into the doorframe. If it hurts Kamui doesn't show it.
Takasugi sighs. "Kamui, Kamui, you know we're in the middle of the hallway of my building right? It's late. You shouldn't be so noisy when people are trying to sleep."
Kamui shrugs a shoulder.
"Tch." He let's go and runs a hand down his face. "Don't talk to me like that, you little bastard. I'm drunk and you sure as hell don't want to fight me now but if you say shit like that I'm gonna get too excited and try to kill you. So go easy on me, okay?"
He bends down to retrieve his dropped keys. "I'm not gonna spar with you, and we're not gonna have play fights. When we fight it won't be pretty. But it's inevitable so what's the rush?"
"..I see."
"You'd better. Like I won't kill you just because we’re friends," Takasugi mutters.
Kamui turns away. "You're right. I apologize."
"Shut up. Saying crap like that is weirder than smelling me. Honestly, just go home already."
"Alright." The bottom half of Kamui's face is covered by his hand. "Sleep well, I'll see you tomorrow."
Takasugi does sleep well. He remembers the expression that Kamui was trying to hide—teeth bared in a vicious grin, a nearly erotic flush to his cheeks—jerks off, and is asleep in minutes.
A couple nights later he gets a call just as he's falling asleep. He comes very close to throwing his phone through his window but forces himself to answer.
"You're fucking dead," Takasugi growls. "Who the hell calls someone this late?!"
"Good morning to you too Takasugi- senpai!" Kamui says on the other end of the line. "Are you really asleep before 3am? What's next, attending class?"
"Shut the fuck up," Takasugi says. "Why are you calling me?"
Kamui laughs. "So grouchy! Maybe I should've just broken in again."
"Come on in. I sleep with a crowbar anyway."
"Haha, that's tempting but I probably shouldn't go anywhere."
Takasugi sits up, rubbing his face sleepily. It's subtle but there's something off about Kamui's voice. He can't point to it but he can feel it. "Why are you calling me?”
"Why?" Kamui asks, sounding surprised. "Why. Hm. Didn't think about it. Just wanted to call you."
"I'm not your goddamn boyfriend. Why don't you find someone else to keep you company?"
"Keep me company?" Kamui laughs and Takasugi is definitely not imagining it there's something off about him tonight. Over the phone he hears Kamui move around before he finally speaks again, voice lower. "Can I ask you a personal question?"
"No," Takasugi says.
He sees Kamui's smile in his mind’s eye. "Why do you get yourself into so many fights?"
"What kind of question is that?"
"Just one from a curious friend."
Takasugi rolls onto his back. For a while considers throwing off the conversation with something distracting and dismissive the way Kamui has but finds himself asking, "you already know why, don't you?"
"I do."
The line is quiet for a while, just the barely audible sound of their breathing and the cars outside Takasugi's window.
"What are you doing right now Kamui?"
"Just thinking," Kamui says, and then, "You never bleed enough."
Takasugi feels a sudden chill in his overheated room. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You get these scrapes sometimes, maybe a nosebleed but you never get hurt. Not really." Kamui's voice is a little distant and breathy. "I was trying to imagine it earlier, what you'll look like drenched in your own blood, and I was having a hard time with that. Being patient is really tough!"
Takasugi shivers. He's not frightened by what the other boy is saying. It's probably worse than being frightened. Fear was an instinct that kept people alive. Kept them from walking too close to the edge of a cliff or wandering off into a dark cave.
He's not feeling anything as sensible as that.
"You'll have to keep imagining," Takasugi goads. "I don't bleed easy."
"I will," Kamui promises. "Make you bleed that is."
Having had enough Takasugi adjusts the position of his phone at his shoulder and does what he's certain Kamui has been doing for the past several minutes.
"Is something the matter Takasugi-senpai?" Kamui asks, as though Takasugi doesn't know that he's jerking off quietly on the other end of the line.
"Don't start caring about my wellbeing now." Takasugi strokes himself roughly. "It doesn't suit you."
"You're-you're probably right." The stutter in Kamui's voice is damn near musical.
"'Sides," Takasugi says. "It's not like there's anyone who can hurt me."
"I can hurt you."
Takasugi holds the phone away from his face, turning to muffle an involuntary moan in his pillow. The hand holding his phone is sweating when he returns it to his shoulder.
"Can you?" he says, in the closest approximation of calm he can manage.
"I'm much stronger than you are."
"Ha." Takasugi kicks off his shorts, feeling overheated in his stuffy bedroom. "You talk a lot of shit for someone who's never taken a swing at me."
"I know how strong you are. And I know how strong I am." There's a barely audible sigh and Takasugi bites his fist to keep quiet. "And I know that when the time comes I'll win our fight."
"You're strong, I can admit that. But you’ve got the cockiness of an idiot who's never properly gotten his ass kicked."
"I have. Well...not since I was a child. But its still happened."
"Someone clearly needs to remind you what your blood tastes like."
Kamui giggles. "And that person is you?"
"You think you’ll walk away from a fight with me?" Takasugi's voice goes tight over a barely suppressed groan. "If I die I'm dragging you right down to Hell with me."
"Shit," Kamui whispers, uncharacteristically off guard. He then has the gall to ask, "Are you jerking off right now?"
Takasugi rubs his thumb over the head of his cock. "Why would I be doing that? Is that what you're doing, you pervert?"
"No, of course not," Kamui says. "Glad to see we're on the," there's a small hitch in his breath, "the same page."
"That's right," Takasugi says. "Besides what kind of freak would get off imagining their friend drenched in blood?"
"It could be worse," Kamui says. "You could be the type of self-destructive idiot who gets off on the thought that they could die any moment."
"What a mess that'd be," Takasugi says.
They both burst into laughter. Kamui, he thinks, comes amidst his giggles while Takasugi, aware of his shortcomings, waits until they've hung up to avoid broadcasting what is possibly the loudest orgasm of his life.
Kamui doesn't come find him the next day during lunch. Takasugi silently notes the absence at his side but eats with the rest of his friends as normal.
When he doesn't show up for a second day Matako asks, "You think he pissed someone off and finally got what he deserves?"
Takasugi doubts Kamui would go down that easily. "Could be," he says aloud.
"That's too bad," Bansai says, which is about as far as they pretend to care.
On the third day Kamui returns with a piece of bandage on his nose and absolutely nothing to say for himself. Takasugi doesn't bring up their phone call. Whatever was wrong, it had nothing to do with their weird late night adventure.
In the bathroom Takasugi washes his hands and says, without any particular tone, that he's impressed someone was actually able to land a hit on him.
"Don't be too impressed. I let him hit me."
Takasugi huffs. "Uh-huh."
Kamui doesn't continue.
"Just tell me already."
"It's nothing too interesting." Kamui says. "A family friend hit me."
"That kept you out of school for two days?"
"Did you miss me that badly?"
"Fine. Don't tell me then." And Takasugi leaves.
"My personal life isn't very interesting," Kamui says that night. As usual he's the last person to leave Takasugi's place, and like usual he's completely sober. Unlike usual he isn't smiling. "It was just a small family emergency."
Takasugi is laying on the couch, staring over at where Kamui's situated on the floor. "You're not very good at reciprocating are you? You don't get to stalk me for the better part of a year and not tell me shit about yourself."
"That doesn't sound like you. You said once that I might as well have popped out of a hole in the ground for all you care."
"That's," Takasugi starts to say. "Fuck off. If you're gonna act weird then it becomes my business. That's all there is to it."
Kamui, who's been avoiding his gaze, finally lifts his head, and Takasugi feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He hasn’t let himself get too drunk around Kamui since the thing with his keys and he's remembering why, now that his body feels danger seeping into his pores.
"Okay. There was an accident," Kamui says slowly. "My dad wound up losing an arm and was in the hospital."
Takasugi puts out his cigarette.
"He lost so much blood that I actually thought he might die. At the hospital a family friend and I got into a fight because he felt I wasn't concerned enough about my dad's wellbeing. I've been missing school because I've been stuck either babysitting my younger sister or checking on my dad. That's it."
There's silence and then Takasugi starts laughing.
Kamui blinks are him. "What are you laughing at?"
Takasugi slides onto the floor beside Kamui, still working through the last of his laughter. When he has it under control he says, "you're a real piece of work! All this time I thought you were upset, oh look at Kamui he's finally showing a human emotion, and you're happier than I've ever seen you."
The tension in the room breaks abruptly. Kamui snorts once and then laughs. "I should've known you'd see right through me!"
"You're a sick fuck, you know that?" Takasugi says. He isn't remotely joking but they laugh anyway. "So why aren't you in prison?"
"Why would I be in prison? My dad let the doctors know that it was just an unfortunate accident. There isn't any proof to the contrary."
"Ha! What'd a dad like that do to earn a son like you?"
"Plenty." Kamui tilts his head. "You know this would be an excellent time for you to disavow our friendship and say that our little game has only been a game to you."
"Like I'm letting you off the hook that easy."
There's a sudden pain in Takasugi's hand as Kamui grabs it. If it weren’t pinning him to the floor Takasugi might find the gesture romantic.
"I'm glad you understand Takasugi," he says. His other hand comes up to hold Takasugi’s face but nails dig into his neck and cheek. "It's so exhausting having to pretend to be upset about that bald bastard’s condition."
“You think you need to pretend in front of me?” he bends one of Kamui’s fingers backwards and the hand falls away from his face. “I already know what you are and you haven't scared me off yet."
“That probably says some interesting things about you." Before he can respond Kamui lunges and Takasugi is knocked back onto the floor. He starts to sit up only for Kamui to hold him down, his grip on Takasugi's wrists hinting at all of the terrible strength his smile is hiding. Takasugi doesn't fight back, though he suspects Kamui probably wants him to, that he wants to pin him down and confirm which of them is the stronger right then and there. Takasugi doesn't care to find out tonight, so he lays back and tilts his chin up at Kamui.
“Alright. So what now?”
“That’s a good question.” Kamui moves a hand to his mouth, thumb running across Takasugi's lips. Despite their positions he still isn't certain if they're about to fuck or fight until Kamui sits up and says, “You're going to blow me senpai."
Kamui's thumb has slipped into his mouth and Takasugi bites it. Kamui makes a quiet oh and examines his bleeding finger.
"Was that supposed to be a question?” Takasugi undoes Kamui’s belt and the button of his pants. “Why don't you ask a little cuter? Like please Takasugi-senpai, I'm a horny brat who got turned on thinking about mutilating his dad but won't you suck me off anyway?"
"Please Takasugi-senpai," Kamui starts, voice excessively sweet. “I'm a horny brat who's going to beat you to death one day but who'd prefer to fuck you a few times first."
Takasugi shakes his head in mock disappointment. "Kids these days," he says, and then he punches Kamui in the chin. Kamui falls off him and for a moment his smile is warped by his bloodlust into something much more exciting before Takasugi sits up and pulls him into a kiss.
At first Kamui’s lips are unmoving and then Takasugi feels him sigh and his body relaxes again. His kiss is returned messily and violently but Takasugi loves it all the same. Kamui bites his lip one last time before pulling away and as twisted as Kamui’s expression is the affection is still apparent.
“Aren’t you cute?” Takasugi asks.
Kamui sits up on his knees. “You’re one to talk. You really are such a tease.” His hands land roughly on the sides of Takasugi's face and tilt him towards the tent in the front of his pants.
“Patience is a virtue,” Takasugi says, pulling out Kamui's cock.
Kamui's hands tighten around the sides of his head and his thighs tremble as Takasugi strokes him. Despite the bravado he's fairly sure this is Kamui’s first time doing anything sexual and is almost charmed by this fact before Kamui whispers senpai in that chipper voice of his and shoves his cock into Takasugi's mouth.
Takasugi doesn't gag but it's a near thing and he scrapes his teeth at Kamui's cock as punishment. Maybe Kamui really doesn't feel pain because he only let's out a quiet gasp, his hold on Takasugi going a bit more slack. He lets Takasugi push him away and suck at him at his own pace which Takasugi rewards.
"You're awfully good at this," Kamui says. "Do you suck cock often senpai?"
Takasugi digs his nails into Kamui's thighs and the other laughs.
"I'll take that as a yes. It certainly ahh suits you." He falls quiet, letting Takasugi move as he pleases once more and only occasionally thrusting shallowly past his lips.
It should be nothing to Takasugi, he's had plenty of sex, plenty of very good sex, but truth be told he started getting hard when he figured out Kamui's mood. A small voice in Takasugi reminds him that Kamui's “family emergency” had happened the night they'd both jerked off and a new heat builds in him because now he isn't sure if Kamui called him when he was still slick in his father's blood or if Takasugi had somehow egged him on.
Kamui's hips still as the movements of Takasugi's mouth slow. For a few moments Kamui’s still on Takasugi's tongue, panting as he watches Takasugi stroke himself. Kamui manages a small laugh and even that feels more genuine than rude.
"Maybe I won't kill you," Kamui says softly, taking over thrusting into Takasugi's mouth. Takasugi shuts his eyes and works his cock in a tight fist. "Maybe once I beat you I'll just break all your limbs and let you do this all day."
It’s difficult with his mouth full but Takasugi manages a muffled laugh.
"I know, I'm just kidding." Kamui's hands slip into his hair and tug him close. "Like I'll-I'll want you when you're worthless and weak. Or were you still thinking that you want to drag me to hell with you?"
Takasugi, to his own surprise comes first, imagining Kamui's voice breaking when he has Takasugi’s knife in his gut, smile still in place.
"That kid is fucking creepy," Bansai says one morning.
"Yeah." Takasugi's staring over the side of the roof, watching Kamui have an enthusiastic one sided conversation with Takasugi's dip shit of a homeroom teacher. Kamui's mentioned him once before, going on about how he was actually pretty interesting and did Takasugi know he used to be a delinquent too and some other things that Takasugi didn't care to listen to. A third strike against him and Takasugi will have to do more than just send him ominous new year’s cards.
Bansai stares at him. "Well...I guess you're creepy too Shinsuke."
A couple days later Takasugi is in another fight. He probably has a fever and gets knocked around a little but he still comes out on top.
"You look disgusting," Kamui informs him lightly. Takasugi stalks over to him, stuffy and sore and knocks the umbrella out of his hand. For good measure he pulls down his surgical mask and kisses Kamui hot and messy, no regard for where they are. "Gross."
Takasugi kisses him again and then pushes him up against the fence. He's vaguely aware of someone getting up behind him and a mumbled oh shit but he doesn't bother stopping.
"I've already missed a lot of school because of you." Kamui pouts. "What'll I do if I catch your cold?"
"M'draggin you down with me," Takasugi mutters. He may be delirious from the fever but apparently it's still a good enough answer for Kamui as he kisses back and pushes his cold hands up Takasugi's shirt.
Takasugi shoves both of their pants open enough that he can rub his cock into Kamui’s and feels immune to the late autumn chill. Kamui offers no objections. He only stares with those big blue eyes that whisper sweet and terrible promises to him.
"Do you need a hand senpai?" Kamui asks, chin propped up on the second floor window.
Takasugi chuckles and brushes blood from his face. One of his attackers had come after him with a bat before he'd even realized he was in a fight. There's blood running down his forehead threatening to get into his good eye.
"Thanks for the offer, but no," he says, picking up the dropped bat. From there on the fight is his.
Takasugi keeps right on fighting and wonders, in whatever part of his mind isn't fogged with bloodlust, what carrion would feel if it could see the vultures circling overhead.