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The summer sun bore down relentlessly, giving little reprieve from the uncomfortable Tokyo heat. Humming from electric bug lamps and vending machines was the soundtrack to an otherwise unbearable day. A group of high school students had crowded under the small shelter to evade the sun. The stuffy uniform jackets had been removed, and shirts pulled from their tucked confines to try to cool off. A plastic bag of snacks from the nearby convenience store hung idly from the handlebars of a parked bicycle, no one particularly interested in depleting its contents.
“This is unbearable!” whined second-year Satoru Gojo, sluggishly stepping to where the bag dangled to fish out a snack. “It can’t be legal to force us into boiling classrooms in this weather! Nanamin, you’re smart, don’t you agree with me?”
“Please don’t involve me in your petulant whining, Gojo-san.” first-year Kento Nanami replied bluntly, not even sparing his upperclassman a glance. “And I’d prefer if you stopped calling me that silly nickname…”
Satoru squawked indignantly, grumbling something under his breath about ungrateful juniors and never doing anything to help that scrawny brat again.
“Now, now, Satoru. It’s rather impolite to talk about our beloved kouhai in such a disrespectful way, don’t you think?” A voice as smooth as the finest silks in possession back at the Gojo clan compound brought a resolute end to Satoru’s grouching. He refused to look up from where he sullenly bit into his melonpan, leaning against the bicycle rack next to the vending machine. It didn’t take a complete genius to know the look that his classmate, Suguru Geto, was giving him.
But perhaps, in Satoru’s case, it helped.
He pouted, ignoring their sickly saccharine smile, running his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. Fox-like eyes watched him intently, a head of raven hair tilting to one side and knocking a few flyaway strands loose in the process. Suguru didn’t have to say a single word to communicate what they wanted from him. A grumbled, partially reluctant, apology left Satoru’s lips. A pleasing warmth, wholly unlike the weather, settled deep into Satoru’s gut at the pleased sound Suguru made, causing a rueful smile to stretch across his face.
“Geto-san is so cool!” sighed Yu Haibara, stretching his legs out in front of where he sat on the temperate concrete. “We’re so lucky to have a senpai like him…”
“Them, Haibara,” corrected Shoko Ieiri, chewing absently on a lollipop stick as she crossed her ankles over each other, leaning against the second vending machine. The younger boy blushed in genuine embarrassment at the slip-up, apologising quickly, despite Suguru not having any visible reaction to it.
“It’s fine, Haibara-kun. Honest,” they smiled politely at the boy, waving it off like it was nothing to be troubled by. “Oh, Shoko, are you still free to come shopping with me tomorrow?” they asked, changing the subject of conversation at breakneck speed. Nevertheless, it made Satoru bristle slightly on their behalf.
“Shopping? How come this is the first I’ve heard of this?” Satoru complained, looking to where his classmates were discussing their plans, shrugging him off. He tried not to dwell too hard on how the fluorescent lighting from the vending machine made the sheen of sweat under Suguru’s open collar sparkle.
The thought of his friend’s warm, tanned skin under his touch was not something he needed to be thinking about around present company; yet here he was… wondering. Would they flush and curl away shyly at his caress? Or would they be surprisingly receptive and lean into it? A press of something cold against his heated skin made Satoru flinch, breaking him away from his daydream. It took him a moment or two to notice that it was a can of his favourite soda being passed to him by the very subject of his present thoughts.
“Here. You look like you need it,” Suguru laughed, the sound like a breath of fresh air or a beautiful melody to Satoru’s ears. With a shaking hand, he took the can from them while they cracked open their drink and took a sip.
Satoru then spoke without thinking:
“Thanks, babe.”
It was like everything came to a screeching halt. All conversation ceased immediately, the moment he’d spoken. Until both Shoko and Nanami burst out laughing, the former making repeated exclamations of disbelief and quickly pulling out her phone and sending a series of frenzied texts. Likely to Utahime Iori in the Kyoto sister school. Brilliant. The only thing that Satoru wished to happen was for the ground to swallow him whole, or for a curse to somehow bypass Master Tengen’s barriers and put him out of his misery. He also refused to even look at the wide-eyed stare he was sure to be getting from Suguru.
“U-uh, you’re welcome. I guess.” Suguru answered softly, an edge of panic and surprise evident in their voice.
“I-I…” Satoru stammered, his mouth opening and closing like that of a fish from one of the ponds on campus. “I should go. Yes, that’s it… I’m gonna go,” he muttered as he collected his belongings, already removing himself from the group and making his way in the direction of the dormitory buildings. He couldn’t wait to let himself be swallowed by his bedding, the blazing weather be damned. He secretly hoped that he would melt into nothingness.
What Satoru had failed to notice in his humiliation was the ruddy blush that dusted Suguru’s cheeks at the accidental slip-up, their stomach fluttering with overexcited butterflies as a result. So flushed that even the tips of their ears turned a similar shade of pink.