Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8376538.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      やはり俺の青春ラブコメはまちがっている。_|_My_Teen_Romantic_Comedy_SNAFU_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Hikigaya_Hachiman/Everyone, Hikigaya_Hachiman/Original_Character(s),
      Hayama_Hayato/Hikigaya_Hachiman, Hikigaya_Hachiman/Tobe_Kakeru, Hikigaya
      Hachiman/Miura_Yumiko, Hikigaya_Hachiman/Totsuka_Saika, Hikigaya
      Hachiman/Yuigahama_Yui, Hikigaya_Hachiman/Yukinoshita_Yukino, Hikigaya
      Hachiman/Yuigahama_Yui/Yukinoshita_Yukino, Yuigahama_Yui/Yukinoshita
      Yukino, Hikigaya_Hachiman/Totsuka_Saika/Yuigahama_Yui/Yukinoshita_Yukino
  Character:
      Hikigaya_Hachiman, Yukinoshita_Yukino, Yuigahama_Yui, Totsuka_Saika,
      Hayama_Hayato, Miura_Yumiko, Ebina_Hina, Other(s), Original_Female
      Character(s), Isshiki_Iroha, Tobe_Kakeru, Hikigaya_Komachi
  Additional Tags:
      Smut, Porn_With_Plot, Mildly_Dubious_Consent, mostly_people_initiate_sex
      and_Hachiman_goes_with_it_despite_confusion, Sexual_Content, Explicit
      Sexual_Content
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-10-25 Completed: 2018-02-19 Chapters: 13/13 Words: 26437
****** My Romantic Comedy is More Erotic Than Expected ******
by twoseas
Summary
     Hikigaya Hachiman, consummate loner, is roped into a strange request
     from an older student he barely knows. This personal request results
     in an intimate experience he isn’t quite sure really happened. One
     thing leads to another and suddenly the whole school is talking,
     plotting, and planning in the hopes of experiencing, or learning
     from, Hachiman’s secret talent.
     Hikigaya Hachiman isn’t just a prime loner. He’s also a prime lover.
     He just doesn’t realize it.
     A lot of plot, a good deal of sexual situations, and more than a
     little confusion.
Notes
     This work was originally posted on my now relatively abandoned tumblr
     (twoseasfanfiction.tumblr.com) and is a relatively abandoned work.
     But I have some ideas and don't want to leave it behind altogether
     UPDATE: I finally have solid ideas about what to do with this fic, so
     it is no longer relatively abandoned! Now it's more slowly being
     completed.
     ANOTHER UPDATE: I turned this fic into a chapter work so that updates
     would be more obvious and this fic wouldn't register as a completed
     work anymore. Hopefully this doesn't cause any problems. Please save
     me, I am bad at computers.
***** Part 1: And so, an Unknown Girl Reveals Hikigaya Hachiman’s Secret 109th
Talent *****
Part 1: And so, an Unknown Girl Reveals Hikigaya Hachiman’s Secret 109th Talent
 
This was Hachiman’s punishment for going outside on a weekend.
He was trapped under the awning of some forsaken clothes shop, staring at the
rain as it came down in sheets. There were only two real options, wait out the
rain or be drenched by it. He chewed it over. Muffled giggling came through the
glass display he leaned against. Hachiman hazarded a glance into the shop and
froze. Girls. Girls from his school.
Damn.
They noticed him looking and their giggling turned into horror. He looked away
but he already knew what was happening behind him in that clothes shop.
Hikitani is so creepy.
Why is he standing outside, what a perv.
Ewwwwwww.
Hachiman knew and he accepted it. What was the point in getting upset? Not much
had changed, after all. And rain was just rain. Stepping from the shelter of
the awning, Hachiman readied himself to run when a sharp voice halted him.
“Hikitani, wait!”
He stopped, the rain pelting him mercilessly, and turned to frown at the
speaker. “That’s not my name,” he mumbled into his shoulder.
A girl stood in the doorway, her friends still in the store gaping at her with
dumb, horrified expressions. She was tall and vaguely familiar, definitely from
the school. Older, maybe. Or perhaps just popular. Popular pretty girls were
one in the same, Hachiman theorized. Cut from the same mold, they existed to
parade their prettiness and emphasize the false blessings of youth. In short,
they existed to uphold meaningless societal hierarchies and conceptions and
assure him he was right. Being young was for the stupid and made no difference
in the harsh scheme of this world.
“Yes?” Hachiman hid his discomfort at her wide, intense gaze.
“I’m Mirai!” She smiled and waved cutely. “From Class 3C?”
Why was she looking at him like that? Smiling and bouncing and waving. There
were very few nice girls he liked. Even less that he trusted.
“Ok.” Hachiman bit down on his confusion.
“Did you forget your umbrella?” Mirai smiled brightly again and held out her
own bright red umbrella, her eyes softening.
“Yeah.” Hachiman shoved his hands in his pockets.
“You can share mine. I was just leaving.” She opened her umbrella and moved
towards Hachiman. He instinctively leaned away.
“No, it’s fine.”
“You’ll get wet!” Mirai from Class 3C pouted and Hachiman looked away.
“You don’t know where I live.” He had to get to the station and he wasn’t about
to deal with this overly friendly older student.
“You’re taking the station, right?” Damn her, she was right. He nodded. Her
smile grew. “I live nearby. I can walk you.”
She went to grab his arm and tugged hard before he could pull away. Why was she
so pushy? “What about your friends?”
“They have umbrellas,” she dismissed. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
“Hmm?” Watching her from the side of his eyes, Hachiman was starting to have
more than suspicions about this woman. What was her game? She knew who he was,
at the very least she knew that name Hayato Hayama’s gang used. What did she
have to gain from talking to him? She had everything to lose. So why offer her
umbrella and walk him to the station?
“You’re in the Service Club, aren’t you?” She smiled brightly and he was struck
by her shining, straight teeth and glittering eyes. Ah, Hachiman saw.
“Yes. If you have a request, you should come to the room so Yukinoshita and
Yui-”
Mirai stood on her toes and whispered into his ear. “This is something only you
can help me with.”
Hachiman felt his shoulders hunch and his face redden. “Me?”
She nodded brightly. “Yes. Coffee?”
Before Hachiman could protest she swung him towards a coffee shop. They were
still several streets from the station. He needed to go. He couldn’t drink
coffee with this woman. Sensing his protest with whatever skill she may have
possessed, she pushed him. “Please? Have coffee with me and hear out my
request?”
Hachiman’s eyes darted. “Ok.”
He tried not to blush as she clapped her hands and giggled.
They sat across from each other at the small table and Hachiman had to sit
straight to keep their knees from brushing. Mirai kept moving in a way that it
never seemed to work, her bare knees skimming his, her skirt rustling and
hiking up higher. Hachiman stared into the dark cup of coffee, swirling the
liquid and trying not to draw attention to how much he noticed. He backed away
as far as the chair allowed. She giggled and his mouth parted slightly in
shock.
“Scared to touch a girl’s knees?” She raised her eyebrow and laughed lightly.
Hachiman rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. “You said you had a request?”
“Yes.” Mirai became serious, her mouth flipped in a frown. She leaned in and
her chest dipped onto the table. Hachiman took a sip of coffee. “My boyfriend
broke up with me.”
“You want the Service Club to get you back together?” Hachiman thought through
what they could do. Perhaps her request wouldn’t be accepted. Yukinoshita
wouldn’t deem this cause as worthy, perhaps. Hachiman was tempted to agree. Why
cling on to love that might not even be real? If her boyfriend left her, his
certainly was not. There was no helping it.
“No, I refuse to get back with that creep,” Mirai huffed, tossing her shining
blond hair back. It fell in perfect waves against her shoulder.
“Then how do you want us to help you?” Hachiman frowned and put his now empty
cup down. He withdrew enough money to pay for the two of them just as the
waitress arrived.
“You bought my coffee? Let me pay you back.” Mirai went to dig through her bag
but Hachiman held her off with a wave of his hand.
“If you don’t want us to help you get back together, what do you want?”
Hachiman crossed his arms.
“He’s dating a girl in your class now and he flaunts it in front of me,” she
blurted out. Her fingers clawed around her cup and her eyes lowered in shame.
“He talks loudly in class about how she’s younger, but more mature. And how
much happier he is.”
“Sounds like you got lucky you broke up if he’s such a petty person.” Hachiman
frowned.
She looked up, her face flushing. “I don’t care about being broken up, I want
to have something I can match against him. I want to have my own thing to shame
him.”
“He sounds shameless,” Hachiman noted.
“No, I know his weaknesses. Will you help me?” Mirai beseeched him, her eyes
wavering as they met his.
Hachiman tried not to let his interest be piqued. He tried not to let her
earnest expression soften his resolve to either bring this to the club or
reject it outright. “I’ll bring you to the other members of the Service Club
after school tomorrow and we-”
“No.” She shook her head firmly, loose golden curls shimmering around her. “No,
I don’t want Yukino Yukinoshita or Yui Yuigahama to know. They probably know
the girl he’s dating now since she’s in your class.”
“Yukino isn’t in our class,” Hachiman corrected.
“She’s in your year so she still probably knows her.” Mirai reached across the
table, her fingers clutching his. His face felt hot and he had to look away
again, trying to withdraw his hand. Her fingers only tightened. “Please. Only
you.”
Hachiman wasn’t sure he should. “What do you have in mind?”
Her smile stretched wide. “Will you come to my home?”
“H-huh?” Hachiman gawked.
“Come on.”
Mirai stood and half dragged Hachiman away, her smile too eager. Hachiman felt
some resignation as they neared an apartment building. “Won’t you feel strange
having a boy in your apartment? Are your parents home?”
Mirai laughed loudly, the sound carrying through the patter of rain. “Of course
not. And what’s strange about a friend coming over to help me with a problem?”
Their feet splashed through the deep puddles and smacked against the cold tile
floor of the lobby. Mirai led him into the nearest elevator and punched the
button for the fifth floor. Hachiman watched her the whole time, trying to hide
his confusion. He had been approached to handle requests in a more private
manner. Hina Ebina request to maintain her group dynamic came to mind. Yet this
was different. Shouldn’t a girl be more worried about bringing a boy she barely
knew into her home alone and unsupervised?
Hachiman paused in her door, his shoes left behind. Mirai smiled again, tossing
her head. “I promise it’s ok.”
Still hesitant, Hachiman nodded and stepped forward. She beckoned him down the
hall.
“It would be easier to discuss this in my room.”
Her room? Hachiman froze once more and started to back away. “Are you-”
“I said it’s ok!” Mirai grabbed his hand, her fingers soft but strong, and
pulled him in.
The room was as Hachiman would expect from a girl’s room. It was neat, ordered,
and the sheets were pale purple. Mirai’s room was nice. She sat on her bed and
pat the space next to her. He wasn’t sure what was behind her grin, it was
something he didn’t recognize. This put him on edge. How had he not seen this
look before? He couldn’t sense the meaning behind it.
“Hikigaya, please sit next to me.” She smoothed her bed cover and moved her
hand.
Hachiman stepped forward and sat, his spine straight and as little of his body
as possible on the bed as possible.
“Closer.” Mirai scooted into him, her leg pressed against his thigh. Too close,
too close, too close.
What was this woman’s game? Hachiman stood up immediately. “I should go and you
can bring this request to the Service Club on Monday.”
A deep, heavy sigh came from Mirai’s mouth. She stepped up to Hachiman and he
couldn’t breathe. She was nearly as tall as him. “Hikigaya, won’t you help me?”
“I dont- I can’t- how does this-”
Mirai shut him up, pressing her lips against his. He moved to back away, eyes
thrown open in shock, but she grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him
in, refusing to let him break their kiss. His lips were locked onto her own
smooth, plump ones. Mirai opened her mouth under his and her tongue flickered
against his own and, as if on instinct, his mouth responded. He lips parted and
his tongue met hers, dueling against each other. Mirai’s eyes opened and he saw
shock. Had he done something wrong? But then she closed her eyes again and
threw her arms around his neck, a small moan in the back of her throat. The
kiss went on. Hachiman wondered at it, why his anxiety was suddenly gone. He
kissed her back and even bit at her bottom lip which somehow made her come at
him harder.
Her fingers digging into his hair, Mirai dragged Hachiman back to her bed and
fell backwards. Hachiman landed on her and tried to stand up, but her legs were
wrapped around his hips, trapping him on top of her. He broke their kiss.
“M-Mirai, you don’t know me. I don’t even know if I like you,” Hachiman began.
“I don’t care, I don’t want to like you.” Her voice came in rasps in his ear.
“You’re going to be my boy from 2F.”
She wanted to make her former boyfriend jealous, of course. “K-kissing me
should be enough for your purpose. Goodbye.”
Hachiman barred his arms against the mattress, trying to pry himself from her
grasp. Her legs were too strong. “Hikigaya, please.”
“I haven’t-” Hachiman didn’t look her in the eyes.
“You don’t have to do that,” she clarified. Her eyelids lowered, her mouth open
just a sliver. “I’ve done it before and we don’t have to. Just more, please.”
Hachiman started to shake his head, but Mirai was already unbuttoning her
shirt, revealing her blue lace bra. Blue lace. She must’ve seen his stunned
ogling. She would start screaming at him to leave. “You can touch me, Hikigaya.
If you want. If you’re ok with it.”
Hachiman debated. And debated. The allure of the willing, beautiful woman
beneath him won out. Perhaps he was not as pragmatic, distanced, and evolved as
he believed.
Hachiman leaned in and resumed kissing her, Mirai bending into him as he slid
his tongue across hers. His hand slid over her waist. Were all girls so slim
and soft? His fingers trailed, feeling the soft expanse of skin that was her
midriff. She smelled good too. She shivered under him and he started to pull
away, knowing she must’ve gotten uncomfortable from his touching her or from
being half undressed. To his surprise, Mirai grabbed his hand and placed it
right on her ample chest. Hachiman always wondered about what it would feel
like. It was the softest part of her he had touched yet. She clamped his hand
on her and he realized she wanted him to do more than touch it, motionless. He
trailed his fingers as he had done to her waist and stomach, this time
punctuating it with slow, gentle gropes, the flesh of her breast giving and
bouncing under his touch. He examined the swell of her chest, the way her body
curved and flattened. The lace of her bra snagged on his fingers and he slid a
thumb under the cup, brushing what must’ve been her nipple.
Mirai reared, groaning into their continued kisses. Hachiman continued and
Mirai’s body responded more and more to the way his fingers brushed and stroked
at her skin. Without warning, Mirai broke the kiss and Hachiman prepared to be
slapped, ashamed he must’ve crossed the line. Instead of striking him, she took
his hand and dragged it down and under her skirt, over her lacy panties.
“M-Mirai?”
“I haven’t said to stop.” Her voice was different, throatier. The look she gave
him was entirely foreign, until she took in his frozen staring and it
transformed into disappointed anger. “Hikigaya? Will you?”
Nodding dumbly, Hachiman followed her lead. She had placed his hand just at the
elastic of her underwear. The material was stretchy and soft. His hand slid
under it and he felt hair. So girls had that too? Then, suddenly, wetness. Her
skin was even softer under her skirt and panties than it was under her shirt
and bra. Soft and wet. Hachiman’s fingers played over the folds he couldn’t see
and when he felt a spot that was different Mirai moaned.
He paused, uncertain. Her eyes snapped open. “Don’t stop,” she whined.
Hachiman circled that different spot with his middle finger. He slid his hand
up and down her slick skin. While his right hand remained to circle and rove
over the tiny button-like part of her, Hachiman’s left hand rose to her breast
and continued what it had done before, grasping and pinching. Mirai’s body
rocked under him and she yanked him down, kissing him with a force that almost
stopped his hands. He continued and watched her eyes shut closed. Her moans
grew louder and higher, her body arching.
“Don’t stop,” she panted over and over again.
Listening to her, Hachiman continued what he did. Her body started to undulate
under him and he sped up in time with her hip swiveling and moans. She started
to gasp and her fingers dug into his shoulders, grappling at the fabric of his
jacket.
“Hiki-Hikigaya!” Mirai’s voice cracked in a high scream, her arms locking him
down and pulling him flat. He raised both hands in surrender. What had he just
done? Why was she so exhausted? Why was she trapping him?
Once her breathing slowed and returned to normal, she released him. Her face
was flushed and she licked her lips as she buttoned her shirt demurely.
“Hikigaya, how many girls have you touched?”
Hachiman shrugged his shoulders. “Like this?” A flush crept over his cheeks and
he looked away.
“Yes.” She stared at him, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. Had his being
on top of her made her too hot?
“Counting this time?”
“Sure.” With a nod, Mirai adjusted her skirt and waited for his answer.
“One.”
Her mouth fell open. Hachiman watched her expression rearrange into something
more blank. “Thank you, Hikigaya.”
“For what?” Hachiman wasn’t entirely sure he deserved a thank you. He was
fairly certain he’d done something he perhaps wasn’t supposed to do. Then
again, she’d asked. Yet he couldn’t shake the fact that something very
different had happened here. Perhaps it was more an ethical failing on his part
as opposed to legal or societal. This wasn’t sex. He was certain of that much.
How much time had he devoted to obscene thoughts? A lot. This thing was almost,
but not quite. And was that ok?
“For helping me.” Her smile reanimated her face. Her voice was low, a hoarse
whisper. “You have answered my request and you did it much better than I
expected.”
“This was your request?” Hachiman sorted through what she said. “You want to
tell your former boyfriend that I came here. To your room?”
Mirai’s smile took on something darker, yet more appealing. Hachiman
straightened his jacket for the sake of something to do, her look making his
stomach itch. Mirai stood up tall and kissed Hachiman on the cheek, surprising
him. “You gave me something I didn’t expect from a man. And you are you, which
fulfilled my request in the first place. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Hachiman didn’t feel like he did anything, but he got
pleasure out of her expression, the way she smiled at him. That was a dangerous
smile. He needed to go before that smile made his heart race faster.
Hachiman turned to go if she didn’t need him for anything else, but she grabbed
his elbow. “Hikigaya, do you …?”
Her question was directed by her eyes, her gaze on his now too tight pants.
“Oh.” Hachiman blushed, not able to look her in the face. She was probably
horrified by what she saw. “Sorry, sorry. I’m fine.”
“Really?” Her eyebrows rose and her eyes remained trained on his pants.
“You’re satisfied with the result of your request?” Hachiman asked her, moving
his hands awkwardly. Maybe his hand gestures would distract her.
“Yes,” she nodded emphatically. Her grip tightened against his arm. “Very. And
I’d be happy to-”
Hachiman bowed quickly and hurried out of her room, down her hall, and out her
door. He slipped as he shoved his feet into his shoes.
He needed to leave before she saw what was going on with him, before he could
risk what could happen. He slowed his pace as he neared the station, his
running having calmed the desire. Mirai had mentioned she wasn’t inexperienced,
could that means she wouldn’t be disgusted by what she saw? No. No, that
couldn’t be it. She was a girl. Girls did not care for what hung between a
boy’s legs. Or what that part did.
 
 
Mirai ran to the window that overlooked the street so she could watch Hikigaya
run. She knew he was the most hated boy in the school. She heard people call
him creepy and weird. Mirai knew that people didn’t like Hikigaya Hachiman,
most pretended not to know his name, the rest really didn’t. That was why he’d
been the perfect option. Unpopular, unattractive, unwanted. Ryu would feel so
insulted when he heard through the class gossips she’d chosen to be with
Hikigaya Hachiman over chasing him. He’d be ashamed to hear how much more she
enjoyed his company.
Mirai had planned to lie about that part.
She had made a plan. Seduce Hikigaya Hachiman, deal with his awkward body as
little as she could, throw it in Ryu’s face.
Never had she expected Hikigaya Hachiman to be that amazing.
Why did anyone think he was creepy? The entire time he made sure to put a
respectful distance between them, he asked her for permission, he waited on all
her signals. She had thought she would need to push him away, not urge him on.
He was careful and sensitive about her comfort to a point that made her ache
and nearly drove her to beg.
Why did anyone find him unattractive? From a distance all she could see was a
frowning face and a cowlick, admittedly indifferent features at best, but up
close he was handsome, masculine but unintimidating. More than half decent. The
cowlick was endearing.
She had planned to kiss him, maybe let him touch a boob. The second she kissed
him her plans changed and her mind reeled at the shift. How was he so good at
kissing? How was his tongue so demanding, but gentle? How did he know how fast
to touch her and in what way? Ryu had been her only experience and she assumed
sexual situations that one didn’t do alone were uncomfortable, short, boring,
and a mess. Hikigaya Hachiman could never be described like that. He fit
himself around her in a way that set her blood on fire. He worked on her as
long as she needed him. He was precise and on point. He was an inspiration.
Mirai found herself biting her lip as Hikigaya Hachiman ran out of sight. Why
did he need to leave so fast? She was just about to offer to work on him, to
please him in return. Reciprocate in some way. If the way his pants bulged was
any indication, he found her desirable. And that bulging shadow of his organ
proved he was larger than Ryu - much larger. She would’ve liked to have seen
it, if not touch it. If not taste it.
Backing away from the rain stained window, Mirai realized she had been gripping
the frame too tight. Her body had shuddered in her best orgasm yet, the only
one she’d experienced with a partner, but she wanted more from him. A sinking
feeling in her stomach told her perhaps she should’ve kept Hikigaya longer,
asked him to stay. He probably left because he felt used. The thought of that
sent a spike of fear through her. He was already considered a pariah! What if
her actions made him feel more ostracized! He deserved better than what she’d
done to him. Mirai’s mercenary plan came to her in sharp, piercing clarity.
There was no denying it, her behavior was unconscionable.
A new determination formed in Mirai’s mind. She couldn’t have Hikigaya
Hachiman. That was out of the question with her current plans to remain single
for graduation and college. If she couldn’t make him feel something good after
what she’d done to him, she would repay him in another way. Mirai’s biggest
goal was to make Ryu feel small and impotent, just as he’d done to her by
running off with a younger girl and bragging about it. Now that came a far
second. It barely placed.
Mirai had one goal, one mission: Let everyone know just what Hikigaya Hachiman
could do.
 
 
***** Part 2: Without Fail, the Rumors Swirl *****
Part 2: Without Fail, the Rumors Swirl
 
Hachiman biked to school, frowning at the road ahead. He should’ve felt
different, he assumed. He should’ve panicked, freaked out, ran away as soon as
things started going strangely. Was he a pervert? Thinking back on his day off
and what happened there, a flush crept across his cheek and he had to swallow
hard. Why was it so easy then and so uncomfortable now? Perhaps that was the
mark of a true outcast. Comfortable only when doing that which deviates from
the accepted and traditional. Hachiman smiled at the thought, his smile
instantly sliding into a grimace of horror. Something was wrong with him.
Nothing was different at all.
After locking up his bike, Hachiman tried hard not to think about where,
exactly, he messed up. It was so embarrassing. And where was Mirai? Was she
hiding in her room horrified at what she did and who she did it with?
“Hikigaya!” A high voice cut through the murmurs of students and footsteps
pattered down the hall.
People stopped to stare and Hachiman turned slowly, not recognizing the voice.
“Huh?”
Mirai jumped up and gave him a hug, pulling him in close. Hachiman’s hands
splayed and his arms stiffened, awkwardly jutting from her embrace.
“I’m glad we got to run into each other this weekend! See you around!”
“Uh-uh. See ya.”
And just like that she was gone.
All the eyes staring weighed down on him, crushing in their curiosity. He stood
there a moment. What was that? A girl couldn’t just go around hugging a guy she
barely knew! Who was this woman? Was she the pervert?!
Whispers followed him all the way to his classroom.
Hachiman didn’t care about rumors or whispering. He didn’t. He preferred
invisibility, but whispering had happened and what did he care that it did?
With a half sigh, Hachiman slumped forward and closed his eyes, feeling the
cold of the desk against his cheek.
“Hachiman!” A beautiful voice greeted him. “Good morning!”
Totsuka.
Hachiman tried to take his eyes off Totsuka’s face, but it was as if everything
that wasn’t him blurred. “Now it is,” Hachiman mumbled dreamily.
“What?” Totsuka’s face quirked in confusion.
“Nothing, nothing.” Hachiman shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.
“Morning.”
“Hachiman,” Totsuka muttered, crossing his arms. “Do you know that third year,
Mirai?”
“Huh?” Hachiman paused. “Mirai? Oh, uh umhmm.”
Totsuka’s large eyes shone even as they lowered, downcast. “Everyone’s talking
about how she greeted you in the hall.”
All the blood left his face and he was nauseous and cold. “We met this weekend.
I forgot my umbrella and she walked me.”
That was the truth. Not all the truth. But Totsuka could never know. No one
could ever know. Especially not Totsuka.
“Oh,” Totsuka hummed. “Hachiman, you never saw her before?”
Had he? No. Not more than passing. “I saw her around school.”
“Hm.” Totsuka’s eyes darted, as if he was tracking the direction of his
thoughts. “Hachiman…”
Hachiman struggled against his own urge to get lost in Totsuka’s sweet
expression. And the way he said his name. Hachiman never sounded like such a
good name.
The whispers hissed in the air and pulled Hachiman away from Totsuka. He gazed
over at the cluster of popular students. Yumiko Miura sat texting, her eyes
never leaving the screen, as the others surrounded her like so many
enthusiastic sheep. Although they didn’t try to draw attention to what they
were saying, he heard “Hikkitani” in their surprisingly hushed tones. He stared
off at them, wondering. They had never made it a secret when they talked
negatively about him. Hadn’t these same classmates made his name (which wasn’t
his name, how did they even come up with Hikkitani?) into some kind of insult
to tease each other. They were never ones to just whisper about him. Oddly
enough, Hachiman realized, he respected that. If you’re going to isolate a
person, set them aside as unworthy of your delusions of youth, at least don’t
hide your intentions. Now they were whispering and a strange sensation filled
his stomach. It wasn’t dread, fear, self-conscious insufficiency,
embarrassment. None of the usual feelings. Instead it was something else
familiar. Complete, utter annoyance.
These bastards. What right did they had to whisper about him? Were they
planning something? What did they want to say? Probably denying that a popular
third year would ever greet him, let alone in such a public, intimate way.
Another sharp spike of annoyance shot through him.
“Hachiman, are you ok? You look upset?” Totsuka leaned in, concern quivering in
his silver-blue eyes.
“I’m fine.” Hachiman huffed, slumping back on his desk, side-eyeing the group
as a confused looking Hayato joined them.
“Yahello!” Yuigahama followed a moment later, bursting through the door with a
pant. She looked flustered, as if she ran there. Hachiman sat a little
straighter and Totsuka made to wave, but Yumiko summoned her immediately.
“Yui, come here. Have you heard?” Yumiko cast a disdainful glance at Hachiman
and tossed her hair, mouth a perfect frown. “It makes no sense.”
Time stopped, Hachiman recoiling into his mind. Yumiko pulled Yuigahama into a
tight circle with the others and more whispers followed. Hachiman couldn’t see
her face, but she started for a moment, shoulders thrown back then hunching. He
still couldn’t see her face.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Hachiman asked Totsuka,
uncomfortable and fidgety in his own skin.
“I…” Totsuka couldn’t meet his eyes. “Gossip, probably?”
Hachiman looked at the flush creeping across Totsuka’s cheeks. Normally he’d
find that painfully, dangerously cute. Other feelings clouded his admiration
for that perfect face. Totsuka knew just as well as him exactly what they were
talking about.
Hikigaya Hachiman was the gossip. And for some reason he actually cared.
 
Mirai patted herself on the back. The public display was already setting the
rumor mill on fire. Soon the word would spread to every class about the third
year who liked Hikigaya Hachiman. People would start to wonder about it. Mirai
knew she was well liked and generally considered pretty. Before actually
talking one on one with Hachiman, Mirai was right beside the student body in
feeling very above him, way out of his league. She rectified that assumption,
she thought smugly.
Wait.
Mirai read her mock entrance exam without really seeing. Could this cause any
problems for Hikigaya? No, that couldn’t happen. But what if he had a girl he
was interested in? She knew he was often seen with Yui Yuigahama and Yukino
Yukinoshita. They were nearly the only people he was seen with. Oh, and Iroha
Isshiki, the President. Could he like them? And if they heard about how she
greeted him, would that complicated their relationships?
Oh no, she’d done it again. She’d put this man at risk.
But she really needed to start studying. Her mock exam wasn’t up to snuff.
She’d been too distracted by Ryu’s behavior to focus on doing her best. Now she
was too focused on her many mistakes against Hikigaya to focus. That decided
it.
She was already spreading her opinion about how good he was to her closest
friends. They would work that information around quickly. There was no stopping
that information now. But she could do some damage control. Mirai’s mother was
a publicist and manager. She knew how to control information leaks, a skill
Mirai inherited. Mirai just needed to make herself very loud and clear to the
right audience.
Which room was the Service Club’s?
***** Part 3: Tea and Speculation and Resolution and New Tension *****
Part 3: Tea and Speculation and Resolution and New Tension
 
Hachiman leaned against the wall, chewing his lip distractedly until Yuigahama
came into view. He kicked off, his eyes staring straight ahead.
“Did you have a nice weekend?” Hachiman wasn’t one for small talk but he didn’t
know what else to say.
Yuigahama jumped and glared at her feet. “Umph.” Her reply was less articulate
than usual.
Hachiman sighed.
“You waited for me again.” She broke the silence and Hachiman consciously put
more effort than he cared to admit into keeping his eyes off her face.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Don’t I always?” He raised his eyebrow and turned to her.
She flushed red. “You never wait in class.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
Hachiman’s eyebrow remained arched towards his hairline and Yuigahama blushed.
“You could wait in the room, um, if you wanted. I wouldn’t mind.” She tugged at
her sleeve and refused to make eye contact. Hachiman tried very hard not to
find that cute. He was less than successful.
His response came unbidden and suddenly his face was burning. “No. I don’t want
people to gossip about you.”
“What about you?” Yuigahama bit her thumb, chewing the delicate fingertip
anxiously.
“They already do it. Why should I care?” Hachiman slid the service room’s door
open with more aggression than was strictly necessary.
Yukinoshita already had tea set, the aroma wafting through the room’s cool air.
Hachiman dropped into his seat, grabbing his book and refusing to meet either
girls’ eye lines. Yuigahama and Yukinoshita sat together as they normally did,
a strange tension settling between them.
Hachiman coughed, risking a quick glance at the two. Nothing seemed strange.
But nothing seemed right. Perhaps they sat a little closer together.
Oh god.
They were uncomfortable. They were uncomfortable around a pervert. They knew
it. they knew what happened. They needed space between their innocent selves
and Hachiman’s perverted perversions. They had always called him creepy but now
they felt it. A tug in his stomach, a clenching, painful twist of his insides,
rattled him. He took a shaky breath and schooled his expression.
“Did you both have a good weekend?” Yukinoshita broke the tea scented silence.
“Nothing really interesting happened,” Yuigahama squeaked.
“It was ok,” Hachiman managed through a drying tongue. He needed to leave.
“Just ok?” Yukinoshita’s voice cracked, snapping like thunder, sharper than he
expected.
“Yes,” Hachiman managed, unread words blurring on the page yet he refused to
look away from the print.
Knocking.
The three focused on the door, a dark figure in the round window. “Come in,”
Yukinoshita offered.
“Hello? I’m sorry to disturb you all.” Hachiman froze. Mirai entered, her hair
shining behind her and a slight flush to her cheeks.
“How can we help?” Yukinoshita’s voice cut like glass and Hachiman wondered at
the tone.
“I just wanted to talk to Hikigaya really, really fast if you don’t mind.”
Mirai turned on Hachiman and his eyes widened.
“Uh?”
“Hikigaya,” Mirai trilled. “I wanted to say thanks for this weekend. Now I can
focus on my exams and not worry about Ryu.”
“Oh,” Hachiman drawled. “You’re welcome?”
“You really were a lifesaver. I wanted you to know.” She leaned in and pecked
him on the cheek, causing Hachiman to sputter. What was this? What was a
happening? Who was this girl? Was she a demon? A witch? What were her motives?
Was this a prank gone too far?
“I-um?”
Mirai turned towards the door. “You showed me being single is totally what I
need right now. Who needs a guy, right? Sorry for interrupting, just wanted to
say thanks.” She winked and disappeared, the door sliding back in place as if
she was never there.
“You helped her?” Yukinoshita questioned, her eyebrows disappearing into her
hair.
“Single,” Yuigahama whispered.
“What was her request, how did you help?” Yukinoshita snapped, her hands
clenched on the mug.
Hachiman stared at the door a second longer before staring at the two beside
him. “She - she wanted to do something about her ex-boyfriend....”
The girls glared as his voice trailed off.
“And you helped her?” Yuigahama’s voice was soft and tentative.
“I don’t know,” Hachiman answered truthfully.
“She seems satisfied not having a relationship, at the very least,” Yukinoshita
murmured. Her hands loosened their grip, her knuckles no longer white.
Hachiman glared at his own cooling tea. He barely had a sip. Something felt
strange. Something off. He didn’t like this feeling, it was a cross between
annoyance and relief. He took a sip, the clean taste of tea easing the frown
forming between his brows. “I think I’ve been used,” Hachiman muttered.
Yes. Yes, that was it. That was the feeling. Being used but not entirely
minding it. At the very least, something was off about Hachiman’s feelings and
he didn’t like not knowing what that thing was. Self-awareness was his most
redeemable trait. Mirai was happy with what he’d done? She seemed legitimately
thrilled. So was he still a pervert? Hachiman sat in silent argument with
himself, ignorant of the lingering glances the two girls shot him when they
thought the other wasn’t looking.
 
Mirai pranced down the hallway, feeling light on her toes. She was done, her
job was done, and if the looks on Yuigahama and Yukinoshita’s faces were any
indication, Hachiman had a very interesting few days coming. She left the
building in high spirits, thinking of how she would reward herself before she
buckled down and actually studied. A few students remained on the pathways,
waiting for friends or walking between extracurricular activities. Snippets and
snatches of conversation hit her.
“Apparently his lips-”
“She said his tongue-”
“His fingers-”
“And he didn’t even ask her to return the favor!”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“He’s not that cute.”
“I don’t know...”
“He has artistic hands, I wouldn’t mind feeling-”
“He’s kinda cute!”
“His eyes are so…”
“No, they’re mysterious!”
“Ok, maybe he’s kinda hot.”
“I like his hair.”
“You said his hair was weird!”
“But weird in like, a sexy way.”
“He got taller.”
“Does he have a girlfriend?”
“He doesn’t really talk to girls.”
“She said he was a gentleman and asked before he-”
“How do you say his name again?”
“Hikigaya.”
“Hikigaya Hachiman.”
“We should see what he’s doing after school tomorrow.”
***** Part 4: Sometimes You Kiss a Boy *****
Part 4: Sometimes You Kiss a Boy
 
People were staring. Hachiman did not care for it. He kept his head down and
his eyes straight, dodging around girls as he trudged through the hallways,
determined to get to an empty classroom and disappear for lunch. He was the one
who stared at people. He didn’t get stared at. Disdainful glances, a few
scoffs, maybe a threat or two. Depended on the day. Hachiman didn’t appreciate
the inexplicable and frankly disconcerting attention. Maybe this was a new
punishment. Stare at him until he leaves, filled with paranoia and discomfort.
If they thought they were going to scare him off that easy…
 
 
 
“Just do it!” Hina Ebina hissed, her eyes alight with a manic energy that rang
Totsuka’s warning bells.
“I don’t understand.” Totsuka shook her shockingly strong grip from his arm
before the circulation to his hand was completely demolished.
“Hikigaya is in there, all alone. I saw. He’s the only one in there.”
“Why, is something wrong?” Concern creased Totsuka’s brow.
Hina chuckled evilly. “There won’t be as long as you join him.”
“Is he sick?” Totsuka questioned, allowing her to push him towards the circular
window. Hachiman stood with his back to the door, his shoulder shrugging away
the strap of his bag. His posture was stooped, more so than usual and Totsuka’s
heart gave a painful little squeeze.
“Hmm,” Hina ignored him in favor of chewing her lip and biting back a smirk.
“He doesn’t look happy.” With a little sigh, Totsuka took in Hachiman’s
profile. His face was pinched in thought, his movements slow as he set his can
of coffee on a desk. Maybe it was because of that girl. Totsuka swallowed
another sigh.
“Go check on him.” The command snapped out of Hina’s mouth along with another
toothy smile.
“Ok…” With a deep breath, Totsuka slid the door open, parting his lips to ask
Hachiman how he was doing. Then several things happened that weren’t quite
planned. By Totsuka at least.
A pair of hands pushed him roughly, shoving him through the threshold. Hachiman
turned at the noise, eyes widening in recognition a split second before Totsuka
lost balance, slamming into him. They toppled over together, Totsuka’s hands
fisted in Hachiman’s coat lapels. They both shuffled, foreheads crashing
together, and Totsuka gasped, his lips brushing Hachiman’s. Hachiman’s sharp
exhale ghosted air over their joined lips. Their noses bumped and Hachiman
turned his head until they fit together like puzzle pieces. Reacting to the
change, Totsuka allowed his head to lean in, the brush of lips turning into a
gentle kiss. Hachiman’s lips were warm and soft under his own, sending a wave
of heat from his lips, to his cheeks, down his neck. Totsuka’s eyes fluttered
shut. His entire body was on fire, burning from the firm, but pliant pressure
of Hachiman’s kiss. Hachiman moved beneath him, his lips parting ever so
slightly and Totsuka groaned at the change. His legs tangled with Hachiman’s,
shockingly hot and muscular thighs pressing into his own. Totsuka squirmed as
artistic fingers slid up his arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake,
hands coming to rest on his shoulders. Hachiman canted his hips and bent his
knee, slotting their hips together while applying precise pressure to Totsuka’s
groin. A wave of tight pleasure pooled in the pit of Totsuka’s stomach,
eliciting a protracted, wanton moan. Shaky hands pressed harder into his
shoulders, the rough but tender handling sending a shiver down his spine. The
kiss broke and Totsuka was bereft, a soft whine escaping his lips.
“Totsuka?” Hachiman stared at him with wide eyes, his face transformed from his
usual mask of indifference. He was an open book, shining eyes flickering and
mouth gaping. Color flooded his cheeks, leaving his pale complexion flushed.
“Oh,” Totsuka whispered, the tip of his nose touching Hachiman’s, his
undisguisable bulge pressed into his friend’s thigh. “Oh!” His voice rose and
cracked. “I am so sorry Hachiman I fell and I pushed you and I was just trying
to check on you I didn’t mean to- I didn’t- it was an accident- please forgive
me sorry sorry sorry!”
He released Hachiman’s jacket as if burned and stumbled to his knees, rushing
towards the nearest bathroom with an awkward gait. He didn’t even stop to check
on Hina where she collapsed against the wall, blood dribbling past her chin.
 
 
 
He kissed Totsuka. He, Hikigaya Hachiman, kissed his friend Saika Totsuka.
He curled into a ball and rolled, neuroses and fear overcoming everything until
his fingers were twisted in his hair, clutching at his dark locks. What was
happening? How had that happened? How many people actually kissed when crashing
into each other? How was that even possible?
And if there were any doubts as to Totsuka being a boy before, there certainly
weren’t any now. He felt the absence of his friend’s hot hardness against his
leg.
“Gah!” He yelled at the empty room.
Hachiman sat straight up and froze. He didn’t disilke it. He didn’t dislike it
at all. And if his own rather uncomfortable trousers were any indication, he
liked it. He touched his lips, gazing at nothing. Boys with boys. He was open
to that apparently.
But mainly he just hoped Totsuka didn’t hate him now.
***** Part 5: Gratuitous Hot Spring Trip and Other Shocking Revelations *****
Part 5: Gratuitous Hot Spring Trip and Other Shocking Revelations
 
Hachiman wasn’t quite comfortable with this choice of weekend entertainment.
When Yuigahama suggested it at the last club meeting, her cheeks lit up in a
deep scarlet blush as she yammered out her idea to visit some special healing
hot spring, he had dismissed it. He refused to look at her or her cute
stammering. Not cute. Annoying. Anyway, he refused to give it much attention,
eyes focused on his book.
And then Yukinoshita had to agree.
She voiced her approval of the plan over her teacup, steam rising around her
face and curling up towards her downcast eyes. She acted nonchalant, her usual
distanced tone in place. However, shocked by her acquiescence, Hachiman had
looked up and noticed her nibbling her bottom lip. Like she was nervous. Was
this a plan? Were they working together? Were they going to drag him out to the
country and leave him behind? Since when had their plans become so cruel?! He
could trust no one.
And of course, because life was unfair and all good things figments of a
fevered, delusional imagination, Hayama’s group happened to walk in right as
the two girls discussed a group discount. And of course, this led to them
inviting themselves along, the entirety of their gang. Miura didn’t even
protest, as enthusiastic as Yuigahama about calling in their reservations. And
naturally, Yuigahama also called Totsuka to see if he was interested. The
Totsuka Hachiman had kissed. The Totsuka who was definitely avoiding him. His
Totsuka.
Wait? What?
Which was how Hachiman found himself that very weekend in a strangely peaceful
resort with high end rooms and bowing assistants and, worst of all, steam and
humidity-inducing hot springs. Trailing behind the laughing chattering group,
Hachiman tried to make himself as small as possible. Normally he didn’t have to
try. But for some reason, some cursed reason, it wasn’t working. Every so often
Totsuka would side-eye him and blush crimson. Like he was a predator about to
attack! He would never hurt that sweet face. Never.
Besides Totsuka’s furtive glances, he caught Ebina leering at him, chuckling
under her breath with sinister huffs of breath. And besides the blushing and
leering, Hachiman noticed most of the group observing him in covert breaks.
First it was Yuigahama and Yukinoshita. Then it was Miura and Hayama, then
Tobe. They wouldn’t stop. Did they think he was a predator too? Were they
concerned his presence would tarnish their virtue? Then why invite him?! Why
have a broadly smiling Haruno practically kidnap him with her shiny, black,
extremely painful car before shoving him onto a train car with the rest of
them?
Well, Haruno might’ve done that for her own purpose. Haruno did what she wanted
for obscure and convoluted motives.
Hachiman didn’t like the attention. Or lack thereof. Or pretence of lack
thereof. So, as he unpacked his things, ignoring Totsuka and Hayama (because of
course they would share his room!), Hachiman did his best to breath evenly and
clear his mind. Maybe if he kept his thoughts calm he would fade into the
background.
“Shall we go?” Hayama’s chipper tone cut through Hachiman’s attempts at
tranquil solitude. He was ready to go, a tiny towel covering his goods. He
stood in all his glory, muscular and blond and smiling brightly at the two. The
towel was pulled tight, concealing Hayama’s groin but nothing else.
Hachiman glared at the tiny towel and looked down to his swimming trunks.
Totsuka watched as Hachiman’s eyes went from the trunks in his hands to the
small towel around Hayama’s hips. “Ha-Hachiman?”
Hachiman turned to Totsuka and turned bright red, noticing the equally small
towel in Totsuka’s hands. “Yeah?”
“Swimsuits are banned at this hot spring.”
Dawning horror widened Hachiman’s eyes. “What.”
“It’s cleaner! And more traditional!” Hayama informed brightly. What was he?
Their sponsor?
“But...the girls?” Hachiman couldn’t believe they’d agree to come to this
place.
“The springs are gender segregated,” Totsuka added with some confusion. “Didn’t
they all tell you?”
Hayama took a small towel from a shelf in their room and chucked it at
Hachiman, who caught it easily but with a blank expression. Hachiman stared at
the fluffy white cloth in his hands, blushing despite himself. “No, no they
didn’t.”
“Well now you know,” Hayama’s brusque response drew Hachiman’s eyes. Was he
mistaken or did Hayama seem flushed. Before he could question it further the
boy swept out of the room, tiny towel and all disappearing as he rounded the
threshold.
Hachiman stared off at the blank space Hayama once occupied, body refusing to
put the towel on over nothing else. He didn’t even notice as Totsuka undressed
and covered up. “See, er, see you out there, Hachiman!”
Totsuka’s slimmer form disappeared in Hayama’s wake.
Hachiman gawked, dumbfounded by the terry cloth clutched in his hands.
What had he agreed to?
 
 
Yuigahama and Yukinoshita sat soaking in the warm waters of the spring, skin
flushed as the heat drew their blood to the surface. Both tried not to think of
a certain Hikigaya Hachiman. Yuigahama’s imagination was doing a poor job as
she pictured soft skin and a long neck and hooded eyes that looked into her
heart. Yukinoshita was a little better off, her mind occupied by Miura’s glares
and her own mental categorization of the motives of the other hot spring goers
in their group. She didn’t wish to spend this time with Miura’s inferiority
complex and insistent, borderline pathological, obsession with Hayato. Nor did
she wish to spend this time with Ebina’s lurid fantasies. Nor did she care for
Tobe’s inferiority complex masked by good cheer and a competitive, jocular
nature. Totsuka and Yui were who she wished to spend a weekend of relaxation
with. Hikigaya could come along if he wished.
Yukinoshita’s mental dismissal of the lone boy in Service Club was interrupted
with a bright, punchy laugh.
“Come on, Hikki!” Tobe’s cheer drifted over the bubble of the springs.
“That’s not my name.” Hikigaya’s voice responded, an edge to his normally dead
tone.
“Just show ussssss,” Tobe whined.
The four girls looked at each other, Yui and Yukinoshita frowning in concern
while Ebina’s eyes flashed hungry and Miura did her best to look annoyed.
“Boys,” Miura huffed.
The voices grew louder, easier to hear through the flimsy wooden fence that
separated their spring from the male section.
“Tobe, leave Hikki alone.” Hayato’s pacifying tone set Yukinoshita on edge just
as Miura’s interest was finally visible on her features.
“Tobe, this isn’t funny,” Totsuka’s soft voice stammered.
“Come on, you know you guys are curious too! It’s all the third years are
talking about. They say he’s got-”
“Tobe!” Hayato’s voice turned sharp.
“This is assault,” Hikigaya warmed.
That did it. Ebina rose from the water, dripping and uncovered, so she could
peer over the wooden slats. Her entire body flushed. “Oh boy oh boy oh boy…”
Her voice trailed into an excited whisper.
Yui followed with a small apologetic smile. She wrapped a towel around her
ample curves and turned with Ebina, hands bent over the fence’s edge.
“Hikki! Don’t be like thattttt!”
“Don’t threaten my person.”
“Tobe.” Hayato tried again with a disappointed voice.
Miura followed the other two to the fence with a disdainful shrug.
Sighing inwardly, and outwardly, Yukinoshita covered herself with her towel and
went to observe beside Yui.
The four boys were on a courtyard path. Totsuka and Hayato stayed on the path,
hands around their miniscule towels to maintain their modesty. All four girls
were thankful for the hot spring’s heat which disguised any other flush that
may or may not light their faces. Tobe was advancing on a wary Hikigaya,
Hikigaya’s eyes assessing the situation and seeking out possible escape routes.
Yukinoshita bit down on her gasp as she realized Hikigaya’s towel was barely
holding on, the back undone despite his best attempts to reorder the measly
cloth. Tobe had his hands out, hands curling in pre-emptive victory.
“Tobe, please,” Totsuka’s plaintive plea was joined by a sidelong glance at
Hikigaya and Yukinoshita knew she didn’t imagine the darkening of his cheeks.
“Don’t do it,” Hayato warned.
Hikigaya backed away incrementally, eyes darting even faster from boy to boy.
“AHA!” Tobe lunged forward in a display of impressive agility, his hands
reaching out for Hikigaya’s towel.
“No!” Totsuka yelled.
“No,” Hayato groaned.
“You bastard.” Hikigaya’s hiss was the last sound before absolute silence.
Hikigaya stood there, entirely nude, his towel trapped in Tobe’s hands. Tobe
gawked, his eyes wide and all laughter trapped in his throat. Hikigaya was more
muscular than his clothes suggested. Lean and firm, his body was proportionate
and pleasing. His long fingered hands were folded into white knuckled fists,
shaking in the moonlight. The terse strain of his arms made his forearms appear
all the more muscular, all the more tight and appealing. He was still wet from
the hot spring and several drops of water trailed from his dark hair, down his
broad shoulders, over the firm swell of his chest, past his defined abdominals,
along that tantalizing V lining his hips, all the way to his-
Every girl gaped over the fence in absolute shock.
He wasn’t over large, but small was in no way an accurate description. And this
was flaccid. Those things grew. By a lot. What would Hikigaya’s look like while
aroused?
Yukinoshita bit her lip to stop herself from wondering any more.
“It’s not that big,” Tobe muttered under his breath.
“Bigger than you,” Hayato snapped, his eyes unwavering from Hikigaya’s crotch.
Yukinoshita, eyes flitting across the expanse of flesh laid bare before her,
expected Hikigaya to yelp or slink away, perhaps say something to once more
make him the most hated boy in school. But he executed none of his usual shock
and awe and disgust maneuvers. Which made his next move all that more shocking.
Taking a deep breath that flexed the muscles of his chest and stomach and
forced the four girls to each suppress a groan or shiver, Hikigaya stood up
straight with as much dignity as anyone had ever seen him muster and turned.
His back to the other bystanders, his ass came into full view. And it was a
view. Pert, firm, and with just enough curve to make it infinitely grabable.
Then he started to walk away. He turned a corner and his fine posterior was the
last thing they saw of him.
Yukinoshita’s arms went limp.
Yui gasped.
Miura’s fingers went white on the fence as she muttered a breathless “Oh.”
“Gyah!” Ebina fell backward, manic smile frozen on her eerily frozen face.
The three remaining boys spun and stared at the faces of the still shocked and
blushing girls. Ebina twitched on the ground. They stared at each other. Yui
ducked under the fence line with a squeak. Yukinoshita leveled a glare at Tobe
who cowered in response. Miura coughed and left to take care of her twitching
friend. Hayato’s face expressed a multitude of amorphous emotions, eventually
settling on a bland apologetic smile as he turned away and left the way
Hikigaya had.
Totsuka and Yukinoshita shared an embarrassed smile and soon Yukinoshita was
lowering herself on their side of the fence and Totsuka was leaving after
Hikigaya and Hayato.
Taking her own deep breath, Yukinoshita tried to forget what she saw. She
wondered if the others tried as well. But judging from Yui’s dreamy smile,
Miura's confused but dilated eyes, and Ebina’s now conscious babble, they
weren’t too displeased by events. Yukinoshita tried not to think too hard about
how she wasn’t either.
 
***** Part 6: The Power Dynamics of Shared Domiciles *****
Part 6: The Power Dynamics of Shared Domiciles
 
Hachiman stomped into his running pants and did his best to keep his internal
tirade internal.
“Sick, perverted bastard.”
He was not succeeding. At least he was back in his own room, safe from Tobe’s
attacks. That sorry excuse for a teenage boy would be in the confines of his
own room waiting for Yamato and Ooka to arrive, no doubt thinking up more ways
to express his deviancies against Hachiman’s person. Hachiman froze, hand still
at the elastic waistband of his pants. What if he got the others to join him?
Was this the real reason for inviting him along? That was it. Revenge. He,
Hikigaya Hachiman, was being punished. This torment of a weekend was planned.
Who had planned it, however?
Hachiman couldn’t rule out Hayama’s involvement. In their past interactions,
Hayama had made himself very clear about what he thought of Hachiman and
Hachiman’s way. Not to mention his mysterious past with Yukinoshita. Perhaps
Hayama’s alpha male teen hierarchy persona was coming out at last and he wanted
to eliminate any and all threats to his chances. Unpopular though she may be,
Yukinoshita was undeniably the smartest in their year, among the prettiest, and
honestly impressive in all aspects excepting her inclination to tell Hachiman
what to do while insulting him and his eyes. They were not like a dead fish’s,
whatever she said otherwise.
Miura would follow Hayama if he led them all off a cliff. Ebina would do
anything that meant putting boys together, especially if they were in
vulnerable states of dress. That decided it. They were against him. Could he
even trust Yukinoshita or Yuigahama? It was their idea and their efforts that
made this awful weekend vacation possible.
No, he could at least trust them. And Totsuka. Unless Totsuka was really mad.
Because of that kiss. That kiss he spent more time than he cared to admit
reliving.
“Aghhhhhh!” Hachiman threw himself to the ground, rolling in anguish. His hands
covered his face and he screamed into his palms, questioning every event and
choice that led to this being his life.
A small cough stopped him mid roll.
Hayama stood in the doorway and closed it slowly, his bland, rehearsed sheepish
smile in place. For the most beloved boy in school, the blonde certainly didn’t
have a convincing smile. Hachiman rose slowly, fighting down the blush that
threatened his face. Here he was, caught rolling on the ground without a shirt
and shouting unintelligibly. Hachiman had shown weakness to the enemy.
“Hikki, look, I’m sorry about Tobe. I’ll make him apologize.” Hayama rubbed the
back of his neck, giving Hachiman that ‘aw shucks’ expression that made
Hachiman instantly narrow his eyes.
“I don’t want his apology, nor do I want you to make it happen.” Hachiman stood
from his position and did his best to stand tall.
“It was pretty uncool of him to do that to you,” Hayama continued, taking a
step forward. “In front of the girls and everything.”
“What.” Hachiman felt the earth quake beneath him. No. NO. The girls could not
have been there. Separate springs. They said there were separate springs.
“Yeah.” Hayama frowned, perfect imitation of concern over his handsome
features. He looked different without his pristine clothes or trademark bolo
tie. More substantial. “They were just over the fence.”
“I’m going to kill him.” Hachiman turned towards the door, but shook his head.
“No. I’ll just die. Yes. That works.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Hayama assured him, smile not reaching his eyes. “It
won’t change anything.”
“Oh, so you’d parade past all the girls in our class wearing nothing?” Hachiman
was getting pretty sick of Hayama’s false comfort and obvious lies. And since
when did Hachiman hide how he really felt about his classmates? “You know, I’m
getting pretty sick of your false comfort and obvious lies, Hayama.”
Hayama’s smile disappeared. Good. This low seething anger was at least genuine.
“I was just trying to apologize for-”
“No, you were trying to assert your dominance by telling me you could force an
apology out of your ‘friend’ for what he did. Then you proceeded to tell me
that all the girls saw me naked, knowing full well I had no idea they were
there. And then you had the audacity to act as if it isn’t a matter of
importance. That could mean one of two things. One, you wanted to emphasize my
utter lack of desirability, showing how even completely bared before the
females of our group, my threat to your status within the school is negligible.
Nonexistence. Even bare ass naked, I am not an object of attraction worth half
so much as yourself. Two, you wish to emphasize your own bravado. You wouldn’t
worry about being left naked in front of the girls. The great Hayato Hayama
would never feel so lowly an emotion as embarrassment or shame at a display of
his manly goods. Whichever it may be, it only serves the purpose of adding
another layer to your facade and I don’t care to listen.”
Hayama flushed red as Hachiman delivered his speech in as dispassionate a voice
as he could. Still unclothed excepting his towel, Hayama grew increasingly
furious as a blush wound its way down his chest and further. Hayama Hayato was
a full body blusher. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Hachiman licked his lips quickly and smirked. “Don’t I? You hate to make
decisions, to upset the status quo. You obviously have your own ideas and
thoughts, but I honestly can’t say I’ve heard a single one of them. You like to
play nice. You maintain the status quo because it keeps everyone content. You
want to maximize happiness. But you forget, with everyone in a constant state
of homogenized high school happiness, people aren’t their true selves. Tobe
pines for Ebina and thinks he has a chance. He’s cloaking himself in false hope
and denial. He hasn’t learned a single thing about accepting defeat or grace in
rejection. Ebina continues on, refusing to acknowledge her place in reality.
She knows she isn’t who she wants to be, but by pretending to be this one note,
quiet girl without a wealth of emotions under the obvious love for Boys’ Love
she is denying herself the opportunity to grow. Miura pines for you under the
icy appearance of a shallow high school mean girl. She hardly looks up from her
phone and when she does it’s to look at you. She hasn’t learned to show her
true self or how to take the possibility of rejection with a grain of salt or
how to accept change. Ooka and Yamato are hardly ever around you outside school
and most people have a hard time remembering which is which. You surround
yourself with people disguising who they are because you all are doing the same
thing: hiding from the fact the world isn’t all sunshine. The sooner you accept
that, the sooner you can leave someone like me alone.”
“Someone like you?” Hayama stepped right into Hachiman’s space, close enough
Hachiman could count the freckles on his nose and the lashes brushing his
cheeks with every furious blink. “Someone who relishes in being miserable and
seeks to make everyone as miserable as themselves?”
“Wrong. Wrong again.” Hachiman pushed against Hayama’s chest, palm pressed flat
against the expanse of the taller boy’s chest. Hayama’s eyes widened and he
backed away as Hachiman advanced. Hachiman felt his own smirk grow less self
satisfied and more feral. “You’re always pretending to understand why I do the
things I do. You vilify my choices and dismiss them as a despicable person’s
attempts to spread unhappiness. Want to know why? Because I make them. I see a
problem and I make a choice and I accept the consequences, good and bad. You
can’t stand that, can you?”
Hachiman pressed his advantage. Hayama kept retreating, mouth a tense line.
“You can’t handle that I’m willing to make the tough choices. You can barely
handle that I’m willing to make any choice. You refuse to make decisions
because you know a decision means conflict and consequences. So you choose not
to choose. Guess what? That’s a choice. And a terrible one at that. You, Hayato
Hayama, choose to cast aside resolution and recovery and advancement for the
sake of an idea - the idea of perfect youthful happiness. And by choosing that
idea over the reality of the situation, you sacrifice the chance at real
happiness. You don’t like me because I make choices that hurt. I don’t like you
because you won’t be who you really are.”
Palm still planted against Hayama’s chest, Hachiman shoved the blonde firmly, a
parody of their interaction on the rooftop. Hayama was breathing heavily, his
chest rising and falling under Hachiman’s hand. His skin was hot, still damp
from the water of the hot springs. Hachiman waited for a clever response, or
for the boy’s sure to be impending attack. No way did Hayama let Hachiman shove
him against the door. It was unbelievable.
“Well?” Hachiman finally prompted, brow quirked quizzically. He spoke right
into Hayama’s face, refusing to concede the space first.
Hayama stared, wide eyes flickering over Hachiman’s face. He made a strangled
noise in the back of his throat, something between a growl and a whimper. And
then his mouth was on Hachiman’s, hot and desperate and fervent. This was no
chaste kiss. This was teeth and tongues and crushing lips. Hachiman responded
instantly, tongue plundering the wet cavern of the other boy’s mouth. A groan
rumbled from the depths of Hayama’s chest, vibrating against Hachiman’s splayed
palm. Hayama surged forward, his hips snapping to Hachiman’s and pressing their
bodies impossibly close. Hachiman nipped at Hayama’s bottom lip and elicited a
lengthy moan.
Pushing the taller boy with one hand, Hachiman used his other hand to brace
himself against the door. Hayama slouched, legs faltering, and Hachiman pressed
his knee into the space between Hayama’s legs. Another choked whimper. Hachiman
pushed forward and, acting on instinct as Hayama strained his neck, took to
nipping and licking at the stretch of neck laid out for him. The body under him
shuddered, large hands wrapping around his shoulder and gripping at his hip.
The two boys collided, Hachiman controlling the crash as Hayama fell into it,
eyes shut tight and mouth kiss bruised into a lush red.
Hayama’s hips rolled, pushing his growing erection against the hollow of
Hachiman’s hip. The small towel abandoned its post, unable to do its duty as
Hachiman and Hayama ground against each other as violently as they kissed.
“More,” Hayama demanded, voice wrecked and wanton.
How could Hachiman deny him when he was finally asking for what he really
wanted?
Hachiman slid a hand down between their bodies, gripping Hayama’s cock. It was
erect, leaking precum, and flushed an attractive pink. Hachiman set a ruthless
pace, hand blurring as it slid up and down Hayama’s erection. Any time he
reached the head of Hayama’s cock, he would twist his wrist, a move that had
Hayama gasping under him. Somehow Hayama grew even harder, cock swelling under
the attention of Hachiman’s firm grip. Hayama’s breathing hitched, his body
tensing and twitching. He muttered in a rough voice punctuated by drawn out
moans.
“Yes- yes. Don’t stop. P-please…”
Hachiman leaned forward, hand still moving up and down Hayama’s length, and bit
at the blonde’s ear, teeth sharp but gentle, the pressure of the bite light
even as he tugged. Hachiman barely recognized his own hoarse whisper. “Come,
Hayama. You know you want to.”
And that did it.
Hayama came with a shouted “Hachiman!” while his mouth stretched into a wide O.
His shout became a groan, which in turn became a sigh. Hachiman jerked Hayama’s
cock lightly through his release, cum staining his hand and shot across
Hayama’s own bare stomach and chest. After a minute of gentle panting, Hayama
came to himself, eyes still glazed. He tried to stand a little taller, his legs
wobbling.
“We-” He stopped, shaking his head. “I-”
Hachiman reached down and grabbed the towel. Examining his cum covered hand
with interest, he hesitated half a moment before licking a thick stripe through
the bitter, salty fluid. Humming contentedly at the taste, Hachiman cleaned the
rest of his hand with the towel and threw it to Hayama. The taller boy was
staring at him, pupils blown wide and mouth parted. His already spent cock
twitched and Hachiman tracked the movement with a raised eyebrow.
Hayama’s mouth snapped shut with a click. He wiped his own cum from his
abdomen, muscles jumping.“This won’t happen again.”
Rolling his eyes, Hachiman made for the door. “At least you’ve made a decision
about something.”
Heart thudding heavily, feelings a confused jumble, Hachiman left Hayama there
to dress and made his own way to a bathroom. Hachiman adjusted the now painful
erection in his loose running pants. Wincing a little at the sensitivity and
ache for release, Hachiman went to take care of his own insistent need.
 
Clear headed after his orgasm, Hachiman did some serious thinking about what
just happened. He was thoroughly unsatisfied with the results.  
 
***** Part 7: Dominance in Submission and Cooperation in Contention *****
Part 7: Dominance in Submission and Cooperation in Contention
 
Awkward and uncomfortable after their weekend at the hot springs, the group
returned to the city.
Hachiman refused to meet anyone’s eyes and sat in silent, panicky contemplation
instead. Nearly everyone in their train car had seen him naked. They now knew
the physical flaws that before they could only guess and he felt a new level of
vulnerability. To be attacked for his hair, his face, his eyes, that was all
within the realm of expectation. His attitude as well. All of these qualities
were easily observable. In other words, easy targets. But his bare physical
body? Never before had that been exposed. Hachiman felt this loss of his
metaphorical armor acutely before recognizing that he should not have been
surprised. For when all else has been criticized, what was there to do but dig
and tear and shred until another layer was left raw and uncovered for the
world’s condemnation and ridicule.
In this state of mind, Hachiman rose suddenly from his seat, ignoring the
curious gazes directed his way.
Leaving his classmates behind, Hachiman passed from car to car, seeking out the
least busy compartment. He was for once fortunate, this train less packed than
any he had ridden before. After passing through only four compartments, he
found himself an unoccupied space and sat directly in an aisle seat. Perhaps
this was the universe repaying him for his suffering. Cosmic justice at its
finest.
“Hikki!”
The shouted demand of his name echoed harshly in the empty compartment.
Hachiman closed his eyes and cursed himself for his optimism. When he opened
his eyes he could feel them widen significantly. There stood Yumiko Miura,
taking up the entirety of the aisle with her bristling presence alone.
Once more, Hachiman was forcibly remind of an anaconda.
He shrunk into the plush cushion of the chair.
“What are you doing here, loner?” Miura looked around the compartment before
releasing a scoff and slamming down into the aisle seat across from Hachiman.
He swallowed, hoping she could not smell his fear.
“Trying to be alone,” he pointed out plainly. “You’re interfering. Kindly
leave.”
Her gaze snapped towards him as a hiss escaped her teeth. “Tch, no. I want to
know what you did, Hikki.”
Stiffening in his seat, Hachiman could not meet her eyes, instead turning his
head to stare at the closed door through which she had entered. “Nothing.”
“Hayato is acting weird.” Miura leaned into the aisle with an aura of
intimidation. “What did you say to him?”
Hachiman choked on air, coughs taking over and wracking through his frame.
“You need to learn your place, Hikki.” Miura stood up, her cheeks flushing in
righteous fury. “You don’t deserve to speak to Hayato. Or me. Or even Yui, even
though for some reason she chooses your company. You’re not one of us and you
don’t act like one of us and you shouldn’t be around us.”
Breathing out, not sure how to disagree with her even though he truly felt like
it for his own spiteful satisfaction, Hachiman turned a small smile her way.
“You’re right.”
She backed up, eyes fluttering in shock before hardening in anger. “What game
are you playing at, Hikki?”
“No game,” Hachiman answered truthfully. “Why do you think I sequestered myself
in this previously free compartment?”
“You-”
“I’m not like you so why should I be around you?” Hachiman rephrased her words
and spoke them calmly.
Miura opened her mouth. She closed it. Her olive green eyes showed a level of
confusion that seemed unnatural on her. Clearly unsettled, the young woman
crossed her arms. “Well, good. Keep that in mind next time you think about
talking to Hayato.”
Hachiman tilted his head. “Do you really think I go out of my way to talk to
Hayama? You’re smarter than that, Miura.”
Head turning, Miura frowned deeply, her eyebrows coming together in a scrunched
line. “What are you talking about?”
With an all encompassing sigh, Hachiman met her eyes and laid his opinion out.
“You’ve literally called me a loner. You see I have actively moved myself away
from the presence of you higher beings. I was forced into this trip. I didn’t
want to come. At school, I sit at my desk by myself. I eat away from crowds. I
shun all socialization and never consider entering into any activities beyond
those of the Service Club, which I was forced into by Hiratsuka-sensei.”
She continued to stare at him, enough that Hachiman felt a bead of sweat
forming at his temple.
“I try to stay in my place,” Hachiman told her, trying his best to tell her
what she needed to hear. “It’s not my fault people won’t let me stay there.”
Frown clearing, Miura sat up straighter in her seat, her two blonde spiral
curls bouncing.
Hachiman figured that if his open confession had done this much, he might as
well continue. He was not well known for holding back his opinions. He let his
blunt honesty once more guide him.
“I like being put in my place. It reminds me that I’m right.”
Miura let out a shaky breath that had Hachiman watching her more closely. Two
red spots appeared on the apples of her cheeks, making her look younger. But
her eyes were just as sharp as ever, though there was some darker intent behind
them that had Hachiman cowering.
“You do?” When she spoke, her voice was reedy and cracking, as if she were
parched.
Hachiman shrugged.
“Th-then-” Miura licked her lips and Hachiman tracked the movement. “If I tell
you what to do, will you listen to me?”
“That depends,” Hachiman told her.
“On what?”
He did not like being bossed around, that he could admit. But he also knew that
Miura would most likely tell him to go die in a ditch or something equally
acceptable to his own desires. “On what you tell me to do.”
Miura’s eyes were overtaken by pupil, their olive hue turned to forest green.
“Get on your knees.”
Eyebrow raising, Hachiman looked at the carpeting on the aisle between them. It
was clean enough, he supposed. And Miura was acting strange. Perhaps doing as
she said would get her out of the compartment and leave him to his solitude. He
stood from his seat and bent down, his knees supporting his weight in front of
her. She looked taller from his position, larger than life.
She breathed in sharply, her chest heaving. She raised her leg, her foot coming
to his chest and pushing against his sternum. The movement shifted her skirt
and Hachiman was careful not to look at what could possibly be revealed under
the flowing fabric. “Take off my shoe.”
Hachiman did as he was told, unlacing the dainty shoe with deliberate
attentiveness.
“Set it down.” Once more he followed her instructions. Her voice was
increasingly breathy and while she still spoke commandingly, there was a
faltering in her words. “I didn’t believe what they were saying about you. I
couldn’t believe it. What would you even do with a girl?”
“What she told me,” Hachiman answered without thinking.
Miura turned red, her bottom lip trapped by the sharp edge of her teeth. A
small noise escaped her throat, something that was oddly similar to a noise
Hayama had made as Hachiman pressed him against the wall. Something like
understanding was forming in Hachiman’s mind, but there were too many pieces
missing. The idea half-formed, Hachiman did what he did best and made a
decision, speaking his mind despite the possible outcomes.
“You like telling me what to do,” Hachiman realized. “Because you like being in
control.”
“Massage my foot,” came Miura’s sharp response.
Hachiman did as he was bid. His fingers easily pressed at the tendons and
muscles that bunched under his touch. Her feet were unshod, but they weren’t
bare. Instead he touched her through the silky fabric of her stockings. There
was a tension in Miura’s leg that turned to a loose, trembling something.
Hachiman continued until Miura huffed in frustration. She kicked him back, not
too gently but not enough to hurt.
“The other one now, idiot.”
So Hachiman took his time, unlacing her other shoe and setting it carefully
beside the other one.
“I understand that you like me doing what you command,” Hachiman spoke to her
twitching foot. With each dig of his fingertips, the appendage grew more
relaxed, matching the other foot. “But why would you let me touch you?”
“What?” Her snapped response was undercut by a low moan as Hachiman flexed her
foot.
“You’re you and I’m me,” Hachiman pointed out. “I’m the least popular student
at school. You’re quite possibly the most. You’re obsessed with Hayama. I’m as
far from Hayama as a person could be. So why let me touch you? Why give me that
privilege?”
Miura grunted in frustration, a surprisingly noise coming from the blonde.
“Because I want you to.”
Then, surprising Hachiman more than any of the other impossible events of this
weekend, Miura spread her legs. Hachiman refused to look, gaze jumping to her
face, shock evident in the drop of his jaw. “M-Miura!”
“Don’t look away,” she demanded.
“B-but-”
“No,” Miura half shouted. “If it was good enough for that third year, why isn’t
it good enough for me!”
Hachiman felt the blood in his body go to opposite ends as Miura spread her
legs further. The position could not have been comfortable, but she was
determined. She put her stocking covered feet on his shoulders and faced him.
“I shouldn’t,” Hachiman protested. He moved to get away, but her legs kicked
out, pinning him to the opposite end of the aisle.
“You should because I want you to,” Miura grumbled out. The press of her feet
shook slightly. “Unless...you don’t think I deserve it. That I’m not beautiful
like Mirai or Yukino.”
Hachiman recognized the real insecurity behind the also real compliment
fishing. “You are objectively very beautiful,” Hachiman told her firmly. “Stop
fishing for compliments.”
“Then look!”
So Hachiman did. And he was once more shocked at what he saw. White cotton.
Lovely pure white cotton with a pink trim and little satin bow. Cute,
Hachiman’s brain supplied. Then it went into a meltdown, unable to comprehend
that kind of underwear on Miura or the fact that she was telling him, Hikigaya
Hachiman, to look at it.
“Take them off.”
Hachiman gaped at her. “I can’t!”
“You can because I told you to,” she once more corrected him. She shifted her
hips upward. “Now take them off.”
Hachiman, as if undergoing an out of body experience, traced his hands over
Miura stocking covered calves. About mid thigh he reached creamy skin. Absolute
territory, his malfunctioning brain supplied.
“Faster!” Miura demanded.
Hachiman was cursed to do nothing but obey, hands grasping at the pink elastic
edge and sliding the cotton underwear from Miura’s shapely legs. He held them
out to her, uncertain of what, exactly, was happening here. Of one thing he was
certain - he was a pervert. An absolute pervert. She took her underwear back
with a jerky motion.
“Touch me. Touch me the way you touched that third year,” Miura whined, her
voice raising in pitch. “Touch me better.”
Possessed by some instinct or impetus, perhaps caving into Miura’s increasingly
desperate demands, Hachiman leaned forward. His knees dug into the thin carpet
beneath them. His hands gripped onto Miura’s thighs, her knees finding their
hold over his shoulders. Watching Miura carefully for any sign of disgust or
dislike, Hachiman licked his lips and ducked his head, moving under her skirt.
“Hurry up, before someone comes!”
Facing no opposition and spurred by the reminder that they were currently on
public transport, Hachiman fully placed his head between her legs. It was a
different view than the one he had with Mirai.
He could see the folds that before he only touched, he could see a shining
layer of wetness on the pink flesh. It was so different from a dick, he noted
absently. He wondered if it tasted different from the bitter release Hayama had
shot against his hand. Nudged by Miura’s impatient knees, Hachiman pressed his
tongue against her, licking along the slick, soft flesh.
Miura moaned from deep in her throat.
Encouraged, Hachiman continued his ministrations, licking up and down her sex,
paying attention to the way her thighs tightened around his head.
“Faster!”
And to the demands Miura made vocally.
“Like that!”
Hachiman paused briefly, realizing he had hit a spot not unlike the place that
had pleased Mirai. Returning to that particular location, he curled and flexed
his tongue.
“Yes! More!”
Hachiman circled his tongue, changing minor variables. The speed, the
circumference of his traced circles, the direction. Fast, slow. Large, small.
Clockwise, counter clockwise.
“Hurry up!”
Unsure of how to possibly speed along Miura’s quest for what she wanted from
him, Hachiman trailed one of his hands up her thigh, deliberate and slow.
“Yes, yes, yes!”
Allowing two of his fingers to join his tongue, Hachiman continued tracing over
the miniature swells of flesh. Tongue and fingers worked together in tandem.
The wetness increased and filled his mouth with in increasingly sweet, but
earthy flavor. She tasted like rain smelled, Hachiman realized. And like kiwi.
An odd but not unpleasant flavor.
“Inside, inside,” Miura chanted. “Hurry.”
Understanding her meaning, Hachiman pressed his two fingers into her, the wet,
ready flesh allowing him entrance with little difficulty.
“Close, I’m close!” Miura gasped out.
Tonguing at that small point with renewed fervor and pushing his fingers in and
out with a similar pace, Hachiman watched from beneath Miura’s skirt as her
entire body locked up, thighs trapping Hachiman’s head and shuddering around
him. The tight, soft inside of her convulsed around his fingers. He slowly
withdrew them, earning minute twitches.
Removing himself from under her skirt, Hachiman noticed the way Miura had gone
limp, body lax and unmoving except for the heaving up and down of her chest.
He stared. And stared. And realized how much his knees ached.
“Y-you,” she finally breathed. “I-I...This isn’t going to happen again.”
Hachiman snorted, her words shaking him from the odd alternate reality he felt
he had slipped into with her demands and allowances.
“What’s so funny, Hikki?” Her voice was venomous, but lacking in the conviction
he had grown used to.
“You.” Sucking his two fingers into his mouth, Hachiman tasted the last he
would of her. He mildly wondered if all girls tasted like that. Using the back
of his hand, Hachiman wiped at some of the wetness and saliva that had spread
over his mouth and chin. “You and Hayama belong together, you know.”
Miura gawked at him before sitting up with some difficulty, her eyes still on
his face and hand. “I don’t need you to tell me that.”
Before he could say, or even think, something else, she stumbled towards the
door and left.
Hachiman wondered if she was going to put her underwear back on.
 
After they disembarked on the platform to await their connecting train,
Hachiman made use of a washroom and bought himself a coffee from a vending
machine. Soon the taste of Miura was replaced by the heady, rich flavor of
coffee. He rejoined the group as much as he was capable, standing off to the
side.
Miura seemed back to her usual ways, more or less, hanging off of Hayama and
typing away at her phone. The others continued to stare at him as they had at
the hot springs and on the train before he left, the feeling increasingly
uncomfortable. Especially as Hachiman was currently suffering a breakdown.
Despite his calm demeanor and casual coffee drinking, Hachiman was having
something more terrifying than a regular epiphany.
Miura glanced his way only once, her cheeks flaring pink for the briefest of
moments before she was turning her back and speaking to Ebina.
 
Hachiman had finally come to terms with his own perversions. His suspicions
were confirmed. He was a sexual fiend.
However, Hachiman realized, he was absolutely not the only one.
He attended a school of deviants.
The perverts had infiltrated the popular clique. How many more of them were out
there?
How could he survive this?
 
***** Part 8: Love, or The Extents to Which We Go In Hopes of Love’s
Reciprocation *****
Part 8: Love, or The Extents to Which We Go In Hopes of Love’s Reciprocation


Hachiman sat outside and slowly packed away the rubbish left from his solitary
lunch. He glared out at nothing, mind reeling.
He had purposely chosen to eat by himself, not for the first time of course,
but with more pointed purpose now than ever. There was something going on with
this school and he was going to get to the bottom of it. Sighing, Hachiman
blamed himself for not predicting the inevitable moral descent that was clearly
taking place.
Humanity’s depravity knew no bounds. How could he forget this?
But he couldn’t fully blame himself, not when the sexual affairs of the past
few days were so inexplicably aimed at him. He knew his place in the hierarchy
and it was low. So, so low. Barely even registered, he nodded agreeably to
himself. And yet for some reason he had more sexual experience in the last week
than he expected to engage in by the age of thirty. Did he possess a dirty
mind? Absolutely. He was a teenage boy with an otaku past. But had he ever
intended to act on his desires and imaginings. Absolutely not. That would be
terrifying. And humiliating. It would open up a new area of personal
mortification. He had already failed the basic requisites for a high school
student - perhaps people were looking to find other areas in which he was weak.
Hachiman froze, eyes narrowing as the thought struck him. Was this a test?
No, he shook his head, Miura would never have put herself out there as she did
for something as pedestrian as a test of his moral qualifications. It was a
well known fact that he had none. A test would be unnecessary.
He could understand Mirai’s interest - petty revenge was, after all, one of
Hachiman’s areas of expertise. Totsuka, sweet Totsuka, was a victim of
Hachiman’s own morally bankrupt behavior so he was not a part of this strange
new wave of perversion. Tobe’s attack was easily relegated to obnoxious teenage
boyhood. Hayama was a rather dark and grimy character under that veneer of
perfect high school princehood and if the events at the hot spring were any
indication that veneer was beginning to crack - Hachiman almost respected that.
Miura’s request made no sense except he could easily see her superior,
controlling attitude expanding out into the form of aggressive sexual advance.
Hachiman could see the why of most of it. He could detect what caused certain
behaviors from his classmates. What he couldn’t decide, no matter how long he
thought about it, was why him?
Why Hikigaya Hachiman?
Hachiman settled on the ground, his back against the wall of the school. He
could hear distant footsteps, but he was otherwise alone, the sweet breeze
clearing the air and jostling his cowlick.
“Hikitani!”
Tobe, Hachiman’s mind sighed out. Perhaps his ninja powers of invisibility were
getting rusty. He would need to work on that.
The bouncy taller man stood in front of Hachiman, grey eyes determined and
mouth set in a serious line. Hachiman knew that expression.
“All requests for the Service Club must be given during Service Club hours,
please leave.” Hachiman stared at Tobe blankly, hoping he would take the advice
and go.
“Hikitani, that was seriously mean, man.” Tobe’s expression turned to gently
chastising.
“Maybe I would be nicer if you stopped calling me Hikitani.” Hachiman paused.
“But probably not.”
“I-I have-”
“All requests for the Service Club must be given during Service Club hours,”
Hachiman repeated.
Hey, he thought, he was getting pretty good at this stern yet bored warning. He
was actually learning some valuable life skills at this school. The burdensome
mundanity of his future in the workforce would come as less of a jarring change
for Hachiman. A sad but oddly comforting thought.
“I can’t ask during hours!” Tobe shouted, his arms thrown wide in agitation.
Hachiman stared, unwilling to engage further.
“Hikita-” Tobe stopped himself. “Hikiya- Hik--Hiki, please!”
“You managed to butcher my name no less than four times,” Hachiman pointed out.
“And we only have fifteen minutes left of lunch. I would like to spend those
minutes without your insult to my already disappointed and suffering ancestors
as you try and pronounce the family name.”
Rather than take Hachiman seriously, Tobe dropped to the floor in a dramatic
bow, his head pressed to the patchy dirt and grass beneath them. “Hiki, please!
I’m begging you!”
Hachiman felt his face flicker between different variations of shock, horror,
disgust, and (most annoyingly) curiosity.
“Ok, ok,” Hachiman pacified, uncomfortable with the dogeza. “Stand up, stop
grovelling, imagine what would happen if anyone else saw you doing this. You’re
not shameless like me. You wouldn’t survive the backlash.
Tobe did sit up, but he remained on the ground, a beseeching frown twisting up
his features. There was a small leaf and twig in his dyed hair. He inhaled,
chest out, and half shouted at Hachiman, “Hiki, please have sex with me!”
“Eh?!” Hachiman leapt away, his back hitting the wall with a thud.
“Please, it’s the only option!” Tobe threw his fist out as if he were about to
go to war. “I must win Hina’s heart and to do that I need to have sex with
you!”
Hachiman, unable to run because of the leaden weight of shock in his body,
blurted out, “What kind of reasoning is that?!”
“I’ve tried everything else! I tried to confess! I tried to get chocolates! I
tried to walk with her and carry her books! None of it has convinced Hina to be
my girlfriend!”
“And you think having sex with me would?!”
“Yes!”
“Are you feverish?!”
“No!”
“Go to the nurse!”
“I don’t need the nurse, I need you to sleep with me!”
“No!”
Their voices were loud, both practically screaming at the other. Hachiman
gawked at the disturbingly certain expression on Tobe’s face. “You’re crazy,”
he finally settled on after another moment of staring.
“That third year told everyone you know what you’re doing,” Tobe argued. “And I
saw you without clothes at the hot springs! And even Hayato and Yumiko look at
you sometimes!”
“HOW WOULD ANY OF THAT CONVINCE EBINA TO ACCEPT YOUR CONFESSION?!”
“BECAUSE SHE LOVES BOY’S LOVE!” Tobe fell to the ground in a pile of defeat. He
reached out to Hachiman with a wrinkled paper he had somehow pulled from his
pocket. “And you’re her favorite subject.”
Warily, Hachiman snatched the paper out of Tobe’s hand, his eyes darting
between the surprisingly neat writing and Tobe’s prone form. “Wh-what is this?”
The paper read as follows:
 
Weekly Pair Rankings
   1. Hayato/Hiki- OTP, the gentle seme with a hidden dark side, the contrary
      uke with concealed kindness. 10/10 (tsundere!Hiki 11/10)
   2. Totsuka/Hiki- trap dynamics with a twist, Hiki as a hesitant seme?
      Investigate further. 9/10
   3. Tobe/Hiki- upbeat and careless seme, thoughtful and serious uke, +.5 for
      the hot springs incident. 8.5/10 (power bottom!Hiki 10/10)
   4. Yamato/Hiki- rugby club knowledge of tackles. Athlete/bookworm? No
      chemistry, but excellent for smut ficlets. 6/10
   5. Ooka/Hiki- negative chemistry. 2/10
   6. Zaimokuza/Hiki- otaku friendship discourages physical socialization with
      other boys. 0/10
 
“W-why am I the only one in every pair?”
“Keep reading!” Tobe wailed.
Hachiman felt the blood rush to his cheeks as he read:
 
Current analysis reconfirms-
Hikigaya Hachiman, the perfect Sōbu High bicycle.
 
“I’m going to kill her and then myself,” Hachiman whispered, the paper crushed
in his clenched fist.
“You see, Hiki!” Tobe shot up with dizzying speed, his hands coming out to grip
Hachiman’s own. “This is what I have left!”
Backing away with superlative anti-bully instinct, Hachiman yanked his hands
from Tobe’s and pointed an accusatory finger. “Keep your distance, predator!”
“But-”
“Having sex with me will not solve your problems,” Hachiman ground out, the
oddness of the sentence itself shaking him to his core. “Accept rejection with
grace. Go cry on your couch and eat too many chips and pine from afar.”
“Hiki,” Tobe cried out, his eyes growing suspiciously watery. “This is my best
chance. If we do things, then we’ll be higher in her ranking and she’ll pay
more attention to me.”
“Your logic is faulty.” Hachiman edged slowly away from Tobe, eyes trained on
him as he refused to turn his back on the other boy.
“Hiki, w-wait!” Tobe launched himself forward and grabbed at Hachiman’s
waistband, hands shaky and clumsy. “Just try one time! A favor to me! I’ll owe
you!”
Slapping at the hands that refused to stop trying to unbuckle his belt,
Hachiman put his foot down. Literally. Stomping hard on Tobe’s crotch,
eliciting a pained yell, Hachiman pushed the other boy away from him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Hachiman demanded. “Imagine if I was a girl!
You would be put on a list. I could call the police.”
Rolling on the ground, Tobe covered his injured crotch with both hands, tears
springing from his eyes. “Y-you’re right,” he wheezed. “I’m s-sorry.”
Then he was back to the dogeza.
“Stop bowing!” Hachiman demanded, his voice turning cracked and shrill from the
sheer amount of yelling.
Tobe rose up marginally, but there was a slump to his shoulders. “Please,
Hiki,” Tobe whined. “You grant wishes.”
“You know Ebina doesn’t want to be in a relationship,” Hachiman said with blunt
honesty. His tone, however, was more understanding. “Why try to force her with
increasingly ridiculous schemes?”
“I-I just really like her,” Tobe whispered, barely audible over the rustling of
the wind.
Hachiman knelt down until he was on the same level as Tobe. “Sure. So you
shouldn’t try and make her do things she doesn’t want to do. Or me either for
that matter.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“I accept your apology,” Hachiman noted blandly, but just as honestly as ever.
“Thank you for listening anyway,” Tobe continued. He looked up through his red
rimmed eyes. “I appreciate it, Hikigaya.”
Taken aback, Hachiman gave a visible start. “Hm,” he nodded, unable to think of
a better response.
“Um,” Tobe liked his lips and Hachiman leaned away from the sudden piercing
stare that made Tobe’s grey eyes seem more steely. “Hikigaya, c-can I kiss
you?”
“No,” Hachiman answered instantly.
“N-not to tell Hina!” Tobe waved his hands. “Just...because I’m sorry.”
Frowning at the reasoning but also acknowledging that kisses had supposedly
made other people (not Hachiman, they only gave him stress and confusion) feel
better, Hachiman sighed and nodded. “Ok. Only to say sorry. And only because I
feel like you’ll become really pathetic if you keep getting rejected without
getting something for your persistence. If you tell Ebina I’ll report you to
the school and the police and also both of our parents.”
“Deal.”
Before he knew it, Hachiman had a pair of lips on his own, teeth clacking
together painfully and Tobe’s nose jabbing him in the face. The kiss was messy
and uncomfortable so Hachiman tilted his head and pulled away, giving their
teeth a break and fitting their lips together more soundly. Tobe made a
surprised noise before pushing forward, his lips insistent and tongue sliding
along the seam of Hachiman’s lips. It was too wet and sloppy, so Hachiman
pulled away, frowning as Tobe chased the poorly executed kiss.
“Stop drooling on me,” Hachiman demanded. Tobe started to sputter and Hachiman
rolled his eyes. “More like this.”
He initiate the second kiss, he realized with a start. What was he doing,
initiating kisses with Tobe? Was there some sort of disease spreading that
turned high schoolers into kiss seeking zombies? Oh, wait, Hachiman realized as
he stroked Tobe’s tongue with his own, that’s just being a teenager.
Invested in the kiss, Tobe moved until he was pressed along Hachiman, both of
them still on their knees in the grass. The tell tale hardness of Tobe’s cock
against his stomach took Hachiman by surprise. He was even more stunned by his
own dick’s growing erection.
Pushing at Tobe’s chest lightly, Hachiman sucked in a breath, oxygen refilling
his kiss-emptied lungs. “There. You have your kiss. Leave me alone.”
“Um,” Tobe panted. “Uh…”
His eyes slid down to stare at the noticeable bulge in Hachiman’s uniform
trousers.
“Stop looking,” Hachiman snapped.
“Um, Hiki?” Tobe did not stop looking. “Can I?”
“What?” Hachiman asked, glaring.
“CanIsuckyourdick?” Tobe managed out in a rush.
“No,” Hachiman said immediately, flush rising up on his cheeks.
“O-ok, I just.” Tobe kept staring and Hachiman cursed himself for not growing
any less hard. “I want to.”
“Why?”
“Because I never have before?”
“That sounded very uncertain.”
“Can I though?”
Hachiman did not understand why he was letting his hormones take over at this
point. He didn’t like Tobe. At all. But here he was entertaining the idea of
getting his dick sucked by Tobe.
“Fine.”
Tobe awkwardly pushed Hachiman down so that he was laying on his back. The
grass was itchy, Hachiman noticed unhappily. Unpracticed hands tried to
unbuckle his belt again and Hachiman sighed.
“Want me to suck your cock instead?” Hachiman offered.
The shaking hands stopped where they had barely managed to unclasp his belt
buckle. “Y-you’d do that?”
“I offered,” Hachiman told him obviously. “You’re taking too long and we have
less than ten minutes left for lunch.”
“Right! Yes, uh, y-yes please.”
Hachiman rolled them over, using Tobe’s surprise to manage it. He wasn’t as
strong as Tobe, but he reversed their positions with ease. Tobe stared up at
him with wide, shining eyes. His breath came in short bursts.
Hands drifting along the planes of Tobe’s chest and down the sides of his
waist, Hachiman could admit that the man was in superior shape. In a brief
moment, Hachiman had the belt undone, the button popped, and the zipper drawn
down.
“Hiki…” Tobe breathed out as Hachiman tugged his boxers down enough to expose
his erection.
Hachiman allowed himself a moment to observe Tobe’s dick, noticing that it was
shorter and slimmer than both Hayama’s and Hachiman’s. But it had good
proportions, curved just the slightest amount, and felt solid in Hachiman’s
hand. Stroking Tobe to full hardness, Hachiman let his thumb spread the dewy
drops of precum along the head. Feeling like there was no time like the
present, Hachiman shimmied down the length of Tobe’s body and leaned down,
taking just the tip into his mouth. It taste like salty skin with a hint of the
bitterness of cum, but nothing unpalatable.
Tobe shouted before he was shoving his hand into his mouth, stifling the sound.
Getting a feel for the weight of a cock in his mouth, Hachiman tested Tobe’s
sensitivity, his tongue sliding over the leaking slit and the ridge where head
met shaft. While his tongue worked, he pumped at Tobe’s hardness with his hand.
Tobe stifled a whine so Hachiman figured his tentative exploration was
acceptable. Emboldened, Hachiman added a bit of suction and lowered his head,
taking more of Tobe’s dick. He stopped when he felt it pushing at his throat
and pulled back with a slow suck.
“Ah!” Tobe thrusted up and Hachiman was quick enough to get his mouth away
before he choked. Pushing Tobe’s hip with his free hand, Hachiman held the
other man down and sped up, varying the speed of his bobbing head and stroking
hand. He pulled off almost completely before sucking hard and taking Tobe as
far as his gag reflex allowed, earning more moans and half finished shouts from
his louder classmate.
Noticing the roll of Tobe’s hips against the hand pinning him down and the
almost painful seeming hardness of the dick in his mouth, Hachiman sped up
until Tobe was grunting.
“I-I, ah! I’m going to-”
Hachiman gave a particularly enthusiastic suck and Tobe came, cock pulsing
along his tongue as it sent warm cum along his tastebuds and down his throat.
Swallowing with ease, Hachiman pulled off and gave a small cough.
“So,” Hachiman began. His voice sounded rough and low, taking even him by
surprise. “Satisfied?”
Tobe nodded dumbly, his head smacking back onto the ground.
“We have to go,” Hachiman checked his phone, flexing his thighs and thinking
about whatever he could to relieve the hardness of his untouched cock. “Lunch
is ending.”
Noticing Tobe’s more useless than usual languor, Hachiman tucked the other
man’s softening dick back into his underwear, zipped and buttoned his trousers,
and buckled his belt.
“Ah, thank you,” Tobe breathed.
“Don’t mention it,” Hachiman said seriously.
As they stood up, Hachiman wiped at his mouth with his own sleeve. He reached
into his pocket and found a piece of gum that he quickly chewed, letting mint
chase away the bitter flavor of cum.
They walked up the stairs and into the school building together, Tobe for once
silent. As they reached the hallway that led to their class, Hachiman grabbed
Tobe by the elbow and met his eyes with a serious expression.
“You’ve got a high school experience now, right?” Hachiman did not wait for his
answer. “Someone let you kiss them and did you a favor and you enjoyed it,
right?”
Tobe nodded wordlessly.
“Good,” Hachiman appreciated the confirmation. “Then stop trying to force Ebina
to pay attention to you. If she’s interested in dating that’s one thing, but
she isn’t. So stop trying to change her mind. She isn’t ready for that and you
should respect her decision. She’s your friend too, so you should be even more
understanding.”
“Yeah,” Tobe agreed, his posture slouching. “You’re right.”
Nodding sharply, Hachiman moved to leave Tobe and enter the class.
“Hiki, wait!”
Hachiman paused, eyes widening as Tobe’s hand reached forward and grabbed at
something in his hair.
“You’ve got a bit of grass,” Tobe murmured.
“Thanks?”  
“Um, Hiki?” Tobe stared at Hachiman’s shoulder. “You had fun too, right? I, uh,
didn’t push you too much?”
“You were very pushy,” Hachiman told him. As the other boy deflated, Hachiman
allowed himself a smirk. “But you stopped when I said to and I decided on the
things we ended up doing. So, yes, I had fun.”
Tobe brightened, energy buzzing off him like ungrounded electricity.
Hachiman’s half smile turned into his usual dead expression. “Don’t treat other
people like that anymore. I’m very understanding, but not everyone is and no
one needs to be. Remember the Three Cs of Pining.”
Once sure of Tobe’s attention, Hachiman ticked the three points off his hand.
“Couch, cry, crunchy food. Leave other people out of your suffering.”
With that, Hachiman walked into class, mind still turning over the domino
effect of events that had led to him sucking off a guy he barely even liked in
the school’s bushes.
 
It was time for Hachiman to accept that he had lost what little control he had
over his life.


Around the corner, Hina hyperventilated, her words blending together in a manic
recitation as she wrote unseeingly in her notebook.
“Bruised lips, grass stained knees, messy hair, hurt/comfort, gentle!Tobe,
confident!Hiki, 10 out of 10, 11 out of 10, hot, Hot, HOT! Hayato has a
challenger, a real challenger! Hahaha!”
 
Yuigahama and Miura had to drag her into class, Hina’s hands clamped around her
notebook in a death grip.
 
***** Part 9: In Which Confusion Makes Fools of Us All and Ships Pass in the
Night *****
Part 9: In Which Confusion Makes Fools of Us All and Ships Pass in the Night


Isshiki Iroha was having a bad few days. Her work with the student council was
taking more time and effort than she was particularly happy with, though she
refused to complain and lose face. She had less than satisfactory results from
her latest exam. She hadn’t done poorly, but she also hadn’t done as well as
she expected. Hayato had been distant. Not unfriendly, not impolite, but he was
very flat, for lack of a better term. Iroha at first believed it was a delayed
consequence of her confession, but Hayato was like that with everyone - he
smiled and laughed and responded with the right words, but it felt like he had
calculated all the correct reactions. The only person he didn’t act like that
towards was Hikigaya, but that wasn’t a difference for the better. No, the way
he looked at her dark haired senpai gave her shivers. Sometimes out of fear,
sometimes out of something...else.
Then there were the rumors.
Iroha shook her head, doing her best to rid herself of the flush growing on the
apples of her cheeks.
She turned a corner, her arms full of paperwork she needed to copy for the next
council meeting, when she crashed into a tall, lean mass.
“Oof,” she gasped, her arms loosening enough in shock to release the papers.
“Sorry, sorry,” came a familiar mumble. “I’ll get it.”
“Senpai!” Turning up her charm and channeling what remained of her worn energy
and charisma, Iroha smiled slyly.
Looking up from where he was gathering up her papers, Hikigaya froze.
“President.”
She pouted at the blank tone that accompanied her title. “Come on, Senpai. Is
that how you greet your kouhai?”
He mumbled something else, his head bowed as he straightened the papers.
“Ah, or is it because you’re so flustered by seeing me you can hardly speak?”
Iroha teased. She put on a faint frown. “I’m sorry, but-”
Her fake rejection was cut off by the stack of papers being shoved into her
hands, Hikigaya’s eyes widening in terror. “Goodbye, sorry again,” he rushed
out.
Without a backwards glance, Hikigaya was dashing down the hall and out of
Iroha’s sight.
Frowning in earnest, Iroha stared at the spot Hikigaya had disappeared, unrest
settling in her belly.
 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Hikigaya Hachiman was having a bad few days. He felt like he was trapped under
a microscope, examined in detail by all and sundry. His heart raced when he
felt eyes on him, sweat beaded at his temples when he heard his half whispered
name from the lips of people who he doubted even knew it weeks before. He
fidgeted under the scrutiny.
It wasn’t the sex or the sort-of sex. Hachiman’s mind wandered. Whose job was
it to decide what counted as sex? Were there hard and fast rules? Oh no, was
that a pun? He was making puns in his mind without even realizing it.
Cringing at his own accidental play on words, Hachiman allowed his mind to
return to the introspection to which he originally devoted his thoughts. No,
the sex wasn’t the problem. He could admit to enjoying it a great deal,
especially in the moment. When he allowed his always active, always pessimistic
mind to take a break and focus on the acts, he could say he was enjoying
himself. It was the after that left him confused. The people he did it with,
the way people were suddenly responding to him. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t
normal. The natural order had been disrupted and it left him with an itching,
persistent sense of things being...off.
Lost in thought, Hachiman felt himself collide with something shorter and
smaller than him. A shocked gasp and the fluttery noise of falling papers
followed. Apologizing quietly, Hachiman bent over to pick up the loose leaves
of paper. Then the familiar voice called him ‘senpai’ and Hachiman froze in
panic.
He couldn’t fully say what happened next, but he knew in his need to get away
from anyone who even remotely associated with him that he must have been
terribly rude. He tried to apologize, but he was already half running down the
hall in his attempt at a quick escape. It was for the best, he reasoned as he
huffed and puffed through the school. He couldn’t associate with anyone he
knew. He couldn’t associate with people he didn’t know. He had to avoid people,
Isshiki included. That was his solution - complete and total avoidance
excepting the necessary time within a classroom. He would have liked to avoid
that as well, but he was a lowly student beholden to the rules of his
education. And he wouldn’t put chasing him down and dragging him into class
past Hiratsuka-sensei.
 
So determined to escape the newfound dangers of human interaction, Hachiman did
what came most natural. He threw himself into a closet full of cleaning
supplies and shut the door immediately.


***** Part 10: Closets, Both Literal and Metaphorical, Though Primarily Literal
*****
Chapter Notes
     Hey everybody, always get your annual seasonal flu vaccines!
     Otherwise you'll be like me, sick for a month and behind on
     everything, especially that multi chapter smut fic you thought you
     had solid plans for and is now just a constant torment of ever
     changing plot points and procrastination. I still love it though.
Part 10: Closets, Both Literal and Metaphorical, Though Primarily Literal
 
Hachiman contemplated the poorly lit closet. The only light source came from
the crack beneath the door and it didn’t do much. Upending an empty bucket, he
sat on his makeshift stool and pulled out his phone. The clock told him he was
fifteen minutes late to Service Club and he was already getting texts from
Yuigahama and Yukinoshita asking where he was. Naturally, Hachiman refused to
answer and considered shutting his phone off. If they couldn’t reach him, maybe
he could make a home in this supply closet. It would be a passable home, he
thought. Not too warm. Not too cold. His bucket/stool wasn’t as uncomfortable
as it could have been. Perhaps this was his new place of belonging.
Before he could shut his phone off, it started buzzing, a frantic noise that
startled Hachiman in the musty quiet of the closet. Flailing with his mobile,
he managed to ignore the call (from Totsuka, his heart wailed) but still lose
his grip. Phone flying, it hit the door before dropping to the floor in a
clatter. Wondering how he still managed to find trouble in this, his peaceful
new closet home, Hachiman reached to pick it up - just as the door creaked
open.
“Hachiman?” Totsuka stood there, bemused and a little put out based on the
furrow of his brow, his own phone in his hand.
Blinking against the sudden onslaught of light (and Totsuka’s presence),
Hachiman smiled sheepishly. “Hello.”
Totsuka took a step into the closet. “Why are you in here? We’ve all been
looking for you!”
“Who?” Hachiman frowned.
“Everyone!” Totsuka pouted. “We were worried. Did you ignore my call?”
“No?” Judging by Totsuka’s growing pout, Hachiman hadn’t convinced him.
“Hachiman, you know you can tell me anything, right?” Totsuka’s pout
evaporated, replaced by a hesitant chewing of his lip. “Are you ok?”
“I think I’m ok,” Hachiman confessed. “It’s everyone else that has me worried.”
Totsuka moved fully into the closet, even closing the door behind him, as if he
could sense that Hachiman’s confession was meant for a private setting. “Is
this...Is this about what everyone’s been saying?”
“I suppose that depends on what they’re saying?” Hachiman deflected, making
room for Totsuka by pushing his bucket away and sitting on the floor instead,
back pressed against the shelf and legs crossed. Totsuka mirrored his position
and their knees nearly touched. Hachiman chewed at the inside of his cheek,
staring longer than he should at Totsuka’s bare knees. Damn those tennis club
shorts.
“Oh, um, well…” It was difficult to tell in the dark of the enclosed space, but
Hachiman thought, for a moment, that maybe Totsuka was blushing. “They’re
saying you, um, have…”
He trailed off into incoherent mumbling.
“What’s that?”
“They’re saying y-you have…”
More incoherent mumbling paired with a delicate hand coming to cover his mouth.
God, Totsuka was cute.
“What?”
“YOU’RE HAVING SEX WITH EVERYONE!”
Totsuka seemed to realized that he was yelling and slapped both hands over his
mouth, eyes widening to the size of saucers.
Hachiman blinked at the exclamation. “Ah.” He scratched the back of his neck.
“Well, not everyone. That seems like too many people, even for me.”
A soft gasp escaped past Totsuka’s fingers, just barely audible despite their
close proximity. He dropped his hands, mouth agape. Hachiman closed his eyes,
bracing for the slap, the shouts of judgement, the recriminations his depravity
deserved, the disgust from beautiful, innocent, lovely Totsuka who would hate
him from this moment on.
“It’s true?” Totsuka whispered.
Knocking his head back against the wall, Hachiman took in a deep breath and
counted to ten. “Yeah,” he confessed, voice low and just a little breathless.
“It’s true.”
“Wh-when we kissed-”
Hachiman’s eyes snapped open. “I’m sorry! That was an accident, I swear. I
didn’t mean to-to-to offend you. Or harrass you. I just-”
Hachiman froze mid apology, noticing the shift in Totsuka’s demeanor. He wasn’t
hesitant or timid anymore. Instead he had his brow furrowed again, his lips
pulled down ever so slightly, blue eyes downcast and dark in the low light.
Hachiman would almost say he looked disappointed. But why would Totsuka
(TOTSUKA!!) be disappointed? Oh no, now his eyes were shining, almost like they
were tearing up? But why would he? Unless…
“Totsuka?” Hachiman tried softly.
“It’s nothing,” Totsuka dismissed with a frantic shake of his head, silver hair
flaring out before settling around his face. He sniffled and turned a forced
smile to Hachiman, whose heart gave a violent, painful squeeze.
Pushing aside everything that wasn’t sudden concern for the most perfect being
he had ever met, Hachiman leaned forward, hand reaching out to cup the side of
Totsuka’s face. “Totsuka?” Hachiman tried again, words as gentle as his
movements. “You can tell me anything too, you know?”
“Saika.”
“What?” Hachiman pulled back slightly, dumbfounded. He even started to drop his
hand, but Totsuka snatched it back and held it in place with his own cool
fingers.
“I want you to call me Saika,” he said firmly, watery eyes meeting Hachiman’s
in a forceful gaze.
“Saika,” Hachiman breathed.
Grinning broadly, eyes squinting closed, Saika moved forward, pressing his lips
to Hachiman’s in a short, sweet kiss. “Hachiman.”
Lips parting in shock, Hachiman stared at the shorter boy. “Y-you-”
“Me,” Saika nodded. He moved forward and pecked another kiss to Hachiman’s
stunned lips.
“B-but-”
Saika’s joyful smile turned to something coy, causing Hachiman’s stomach to
clench and his heart to race. “Hachiman, will you show me what you’ve been
doing?”
Hachiman’s brain shut down, restarting slowly.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he choked out, lips tingling from the
contact with Saika’s (SAIKA’S!!!) own lips.
Saika pressed a third kiss, this one lingering and full of conviction, to
Hachiman’s mouth. “I want you to show me,” he said stubbornly, if a little
shyly.
“But…” Hachiman fought the heat running through his body, the hardening of his
cock, and the tenderness that fluttered through his chest at Saika’s words.
“But I can’t!”
“Why not?” Saika’s shoulders dropped as he visibly wilted from Hachiman’s
rejection. Hachiman wanted to cry.
“Because.” Hachiman thought through all the possible reasons why this was an
awful, terrible idea. Because Saika was too lovely. Because Saika deserved
better than Hachiman. Because Hachiman was a embarrassing, weird, fish-eyed,
confused loner. Because Saika was an angel. “Because I like you.”
Gasping again, Saika threw his arms around Hachiman’s neck, practically hurling
himself into Hachiman’s lap. Arms wrapping around Saika to steady him, Hachiman
ignored the sharp dig of metal shelves against his spine.
“I like you too,” Saika breathed into Hachiman’s neck.
Hachiman shivered at the sensation of Saika’s breath ghosting against his skin
and his arms tightened around Saika’s slim frame. He was small enough that he
fit almost too well into Hachiman’s embrace. He also smelled very, very good.
Hachiman pressed his nose into the soft, silvery hair at the top of Saika’s
head and took a deep breath, nuzzling the shorter man as he took in the soft
scent of his shampoo. Hachiman closed his eyes in pure bliss.
That is, until Saika pulled back with an angry expression, cheeks puffing as he
sucked in an irate breath. “You shouldn’t do that stuff with people you don’t
like, Hachiman. Not if you don’t want to.”
Hachiman shrugged. “I know. But it kind of just happens and I go with it,” he
admitted.
“Hmph,” Saika grumbled. Then his smile reappeared, somehow both nervous and
sly. “Well, we like each other, so you should show me.”
Without waiting for Hachiman’s response, Saika moved in for their longest kiss
yet. It was closer to their kiss in the abandoned classroom, only it was done
with a deliberate purpose that made it that much better. Rather than being done
out of suprise or instinct, this felt more involved, more invested on both
sides, causing an emotional tension to color every movement. Their lips fit
together smoothly, gliding and pushing with just the right amount of force.
Hachiman groaned into Saika’s mouth, causing the shorter man to shiver and bite
at Hachiman’s lower lip. Hachiman took this as permission to deepen the kiss,
opening his mouth to allow Saika’s tongue to slip in, quick and tentative. When
Saika’s exploration only pulled more groans from Hachiman’s chest, Saika’s
movements grew more assured, tongue moving more confidently against Hachiman’s,
flickering against the roof of Hachiman’s mouth, the back of his teeth. Arms
still encircling Hachiman’s neck, Saika let his hands rove, palms stroking over
Hachiman’s shoulders and back.
“Saika,” Hachiman breathed against spit slicked lips, wonder in his voice and
in the widening of his eyes.
Saika settled himself more comfortably over Hachiman’s lap, straddling his
thighs and bringing their groins into alignment. As erection met erection, both
Hachiman and Saika moaned, hips wriggling and pressing in the search for more
friction.
“Ha-chi-man,” Saika panted. “Show me. Show me. Show me.”
Hachiman was convinced he couldn’t deny Saika anything, especially if he asked
in that greedy, breathless tone, especially if he asked while he grinded
against him and pet his shoulders. Hachiman dragged his mouth away from Saika’s
soft, eager lips and pressed hot, drawn out kisses against the his soft throat,
pulse point jumping. He trailed more kisses, some against the pale skin of his
neck, others along the line of his jaw, one behind his ear. That last one had
Saika’s hips giving a sharp snap forward.
“Oh,” Saika sighed. “There.”
Complying with genuine pleasure, Hachiman continued to kiss behind that ear,
then the other. Feeling daring, Hachiman took the lobe of Saika’s ear between
his teeth, nipping lightly before sucking.
“Ah!” Saika’s hips stuttered and Hachiman could feel how hard he was against
him. Hachiman had to admit he was aching with want as well. “Do that again,
please.”
Hachiman did, earning the same desperate, wanton reaction. His own breathing
was becoming seriously uneven, his gut was starting to tighten, and Hachiman
couldn’t deny what was going to happen very, very soon if Saika kept making
those noises and moving the way he was in Hachiman’s lap.
“Saika, if we d-don’t stop,” Hachiman stuttered, “I’m going to-”
“Do it,” Saika demanded. “Please, please. I want to. I want you to.”
Their movement grew more chaotic and hurried, both of them clutching each other
with almost bruising grips.
“Hachiman!” Saika bit at Hachiman’s clothed shoulder, muffling his cry.
Hearing his name like that and feeling the sudden pain of Saika’s bite was
enough to push Hachiman right over the edge, body spasming and mind filled with
a pleasurable kind of white noise. He grunted into Saika’s neck, his release
filling his briefs with a sticky wetness that he couldn’t care less about in
that moment.
Both of them breathed in and out in great heaves, body’s returning to some kind
of calm. Hachiman found himself stroking Saika’s hair and Saika gave a
contented sigh before burrowing his face into Hachiman’s chest.
“See, isn’t it nicer when it’s with someone you like?” Saika mumbled.
“Yes,” Hachiman agreed vehemently. “It really is.”
Saika pulled away enough to make a face at the matching wet spots that only
grew larger on both his shorts and Hachiman’s trousers. He looked back up,
smiling in a way that managed to be playful, triumphant, smug, and shy all at
once. “I don’t think you’ll forget I’m a boy anymore.”
Hachiman laughed, pulling Saika into a warm hug. “No, I don’t think that’ll be
a problem.”
They chuckled together, stopping only when the door was forcefully pulled open,
blinding them with the sudden light. Saika hid in Hachiman’s chest with a
squeak while Hachiman tightened his grip protectively. Looking up, Hachiman met
the stunned gazes of Yuigahama, Yukinoshita, and Isshiki. All three blushed
bright red as they took in the sight before them.
“Senpai…” Isshiki gawked.
“You were late to club,” Yuigahama blurted.
“I see you found him, Totsuka.” Yukinoshita’s tone was cool as ever and Saika
tensed a little in Hachiman’s arms.
Wanting to spare Saika any more discomfort, Hachiman stared at the three
newcomers, his gaze flat. He reached up for the door’s handle and pulled it
closed. “One moment please.”
When they were once more safely ensconced in the dark, Hachiman placed an
apologetic kiss to the top of Saika’s head. “Sorry about, er, that.”
“This is gonna be bad,” Totsuka mumbled darkly into Hachiman’s shirt.
Hachiman was sorely tempted to agree.


The three girls stared at the closed door of the supply closet.
Isshiki wriggled, moving from foot to foot. “I have to go,” she declared in a
high pitched voice, pressing a trembling hand to her chest before sprinting
away.
Yukinoshita didn’t spare her another glance, though Yuigahama watched her go.
“Oh my,” Yuigahama’s voice faltered.
Sighing deeply, Yukinoshita closed her eyes and turned back down the hallway,
seeing no benefit in remaining outside the closet full of cleaning supplies and
embracing schoolmates. “Let’s go.”


The chances of things getting bad were high. Very, very high.
***** Part 11: And so, Drama Unfolds, As Do Hikigaya Hachiman’s Feelings *****
Chapter Notes
     Who's ready for another Hachiman monologue?
Part 11: And so, Drama Unfolds, As Do Hikigaya Hachiman’s Feelings
 
Hachiman managed to peel himself away from Saika with great difficulty,
planting another sheepish kiss to the smaller boy’s forehead.
“Are you going to go talk to them?” Saika asked as they both stood and
straightened.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Hachiman mumbled. He was already quite late for club
activities and considering several factors - mostly his own embarrassment at
being caught in a closet with another person and his own even bigger
mortification at having a substantial wet spot on the front of his trousers -
it seemed more prudent to go home and recuperate. He had, after all, spent much
of this day dodging his fellow students and the rest of it grinding against the
most perfect angel in the school. He felt a strategic retreat was prudent.
“Ok, um, well I have to go to tennis.” Saika reached up, affectionately tugging
on a lock of Hachiman’s hair, causing the taller boy’s breath to hitch.
Waving a hand in a general sort of motion, Hachiman tried to discreetly study
Saika. “Are you going to be alright?”
“Oh, yeah. I keep spare clothes here anyway,” Saika grinned brightly. “So I’ll
see you tomorrow?”
“Umhmm,” Hachiman nodded, chewing his lip and wondering if he could move into
the closet with Saika.
“You’re thinking something weird,” Saika told him with a fond chuckle. “But you
should be thinking of what you’ll say to Yui and Yukinoshita. I think you three
have to talk about some things.”
“Bad things,” Hachiman muttered.
Saika shrugged and nodded. “But you three are good friends. I think as long as
you talk, things will work out.”
With an impish smirk, Saika stood up on his toes and placed a playful kiss to
the tip of Hachiman’s nose. “Besides, I don’t mind sharing if it’s with them.
Now, I have to go. I’m president, after all!”
Saika bounced into the hallway, waving his cheery support to Hachiman as he
left.
Hachiman touched the tip of his nose absentmindedly, watching Saika until he
disappeared from sight.
 
The next day, Hachiman allowed school to pass by, hardly paying any attention.
He ignored all the looks he got, he refused to speak with anyone, he found a
quiet place to eat his lunch in solitude, and he only responded to Saika (even
though Saika primarily spoke to him to remind him to talk with Yuigahama and
Yukinoshita). It was only once they were dismissed that he ceased his
disassociation, much to his chagrin. Being aware of the world around him and
his own reactions to it was a pain.
Skulking into the hallway, Hachiman waited outside for Yuigahama. She exited
the classroom, a deep frown on her face, and spotted him. Freezing where she
stood, her mouth moved up and down. “Hikki?”
“Hm,” Hachiman greeted.
This seemed to jog her out of her surprise. Chest and cheeks puffing, Yuigahama
crossed her arms and glared. “Oh, so you’re going to wait for me now?”
Looking from her menacing expression to his shoes, Hachiman frowned. “Don’t I
always?”
“Not yesterday,” she grumbled.
“Oh.” Hachiman blinked, heat filling his cheeks and licking up the back of his
neck. “Sorry.”
“Are you?” Yuigahama tossed her hair and stomped forward, moving in the
direction of the service club room.
He followed her, stuffing his hands in his pockets and ignoring the tension
filled silence between them. He could feel her gaze on him, sharp and
scrutinizing, and he didn’t know what to make of it. Usually he had no problem,
but he could admit that this wasn’t the usual sort of situation.
When they entered the class, Yukinoshita was already sitting there, three cups
of tea set out - one in front of her, one beside her, and the other at
Hachiman’s end. Hachiman and Yuigahama took their usual seats. Yuigahama and
Yukinoshita nibbled at some cookies, the former muttering her thanks, and
Hachiman reached into his bag, withdrawing his book.
After the soft rustling and barely audible crunching came to a quiet end, an
unnatural stillness overtook the group.
Hachiman stared at the words printed on the page, unable to read the contents.
Yukinoshita radiated a glacial aura, cold and cutting.
Yuigahama was the first to break.
“Hikki, what were you doing with Sai-chan in the closet!”
Her voice was sharp, desperate, and demanding, loud enough to echo off the
walls.
Hachiman’s face heated, but he kept his gaze focused unseeingly on the page.
“That’s not your business.”
Yuigahama gasped and the icy aura around Yukinoshita grew tenfold.
“Y-you…” Yuigahama seemed to struggle to find her next words, face reddening
and chest heaving. “You slut!”
Hachiman’s head snapped up, eyes narrowed and voice inflectionless. “What.”
“You heard me!”
His eyebrow shot up, mouth falling open.
“I don’t know how you have the audacity to look so surprised,” Yukinoshita cut
in. “Your actions have been talked about by the entire school. When you behave
in a promiscuous way, why act stunned when described as such?”
“Because every school rumor is completely right, right?” Hachiman snapped back,
hackles rising as his defenses were put fully online.
Yukinoshita flinched and Yuigahama put a hand on her arm. “It’s not rumors if
it’s true! We saw you with Saika! And we heard about that third year! And I
overheard Hina talking about you and Tobe and not in the normal way she does,
she had evidence! And Hayama keeps  looking  at you!”
“What about Miura?” Hachiman asked, keeping his tone as bland as possible.
Both girls paled, sitting back in their chairs as their hands came up,
Yuigahama’s to her mouth and Yukinoshita’s to her chest.
“Yu-yumiko…” Yuigahama whispered.
“Ah, so you’re just as imbecilic as the rest of them,” Yukinoshita accused. “I
admit, her charms tend to work on the less intelligent.”
Hachiman rolled his eyes. “I can’t stand her.”
Lower lip trembling, Yuigahama looked at Hachiman, eyes welling. “Then why
would you do that?”
Hachiman ignored the stab of guilt. “She wanted me to because she was jealous
that I would with someone else and not her. I also suspect she likes to
dominate and debase lower lifeforms.”
“Are we to believe she sought you out?” Yukinoshita’s scoff was undercut by
something guarded and vulnerable.
Hachiman set his book down before crossing his arms. “What, you think I would
confess to her like an idiot? Confessing to a girl requires courage,
confidence, and a willingness to engage in public humiliation. We all know I
don’t have the first two and my relationship to public humiliation is not one
of willingness, but of familiarity. Besides, she likes Hayama.”
Yuigahama chewed her lip, covering up the shakiness of her expression. “You
would do it with someone you don’t even like and who doesn’t even like you?”
“You’re the one who thinks being a virgin is a terrible thing,” Hachiman
grumbled. “If I waited until I confessed to someone to do something, I would
die a virgin. If I only did things with people who liked me, I would never get
to do anything.”
“But her, of all people?” Yukinoshita’s iciness cracked, a slight waver in her
voice that was carefully hidden in venomous disbelief.
“At least she knew what she wanted from me,” Hachiman hissed.
Yuigahama rose from the table in a dramatic stand, palms slamming down on the
tabletop. The tea in their cups rippled and the plate of half finished cookies
rattled. “What’s that mean?!”
“It means exactly what I said!” Hachiman shouted back, standing and facing her.
“Miura knew exactly what she wanted from me! Mirai, the third year, knew
exactly what she wanted from me! Stupid Tobe knew what he wanted from me! I
even made Hayama decide what he wanted from me! I have no idea what either of
you want from me.”
Yuigahama and Hachiman stared each other down, both breathing heavily.
A chair scraped and Yukinoshita stood beside Yuigahama. “Who said we want
anything from you?”
Hachiman took a step back from the even, frigid tone in her words. “Then say
it,” he spat. “Tell me you don’t want anything from me. At least then I can
know.”
“And what if we tell you that, that we want nothing from you? What would you
do? Leave the club? Stop prostituting yourself over the school? Do it even
more?” Yukinoshita’s blue eyes flashed as her long, black hair fell over her
shoulders.
“It wouldn’t be any of your business, would it?” Hachiman snarled. “But if
you’re so curious, no. I wouldn’t. I’m tired of being used by people even if
I’m using them too. Especially then. I told you both before, I want something
real!”
Hachiman stomped his foot, fighting back tears.
The silence around them was deafening.
Sucking in a breath, Hachiman tried to compose himself with limited success.
“Saika understood what I wanted and  he  gave it to  me . I want what he
offered. I’m tired of people faking things and hiding things and manipulating
things to maintain their easy, comfortable lives. Life isn’t easy and it isn’t
comfortable and we all know it. You both know it. People are difficult and
complicated and selfish, we all lie and we isolate and we hurt and cause pain.
I know everyone hates me and neither of you understand what that means for me,
not really.”
Hachiman looked at Yukinoshita, whose lips were parted. “You understand being
ostracized, but not because people hate you. They love you and everything you
have. They’re envious and that makes them ugly, but it also doesn’t change the
fact that you’re lonely because you’re beautiful, talented, and hard working.
You have too much good, so people act bad. It makes your life hard, but it
doesn’t undo all the greatness you’ve done or can do. It might have even made
you more kind.”
Hachiman turned his increasingly tearfilled eyes towards Yuigahama, whose wide
eyes were filled with pain. “You’re popular and pretty and you’re nice. You
care about people. You’re the glue of the most popular and sought after group
in school. Without you they would fall apart. Without you, this club would fall
apart. You’re sweet and you actively try to help people. I doubt anyone can
hate you.”
“I don’t have any of that,” Hachiman rasped out. “All I have is a handful of
useless talents that do nothing but make people hate me while I go against my
own beliefs so they can keep going, unchanged and ungrowing and happily
repressing the things that make them uncomfortable.”
Roughly brushing away his now falling tears, Hachiman closed his eyes and took
in a shuddering breath. “I’m tired of it. So tell me if you want nothing from
me. If you want something, tell me what. I don’t care about you both being
nice. I don’t care if I get my feelings hurt. I hate change and I would hate to
lose whatever we are, but I don’t care about any of that because giving up for
the sake of maintaining something half formed and unfulfilled is worse. I hate
deception and uncertainty is a suffering I no longer wish to stand. I just want
to know.”
When he opened his eyes, Yuigahama was moving towards him. “H-Hachiman,” she
whispered, full of feeling, as tears streaked down her face.
Before Hachiman knew it, soft lips were being pressed to his in a tentative,
tender kiss that tasted of warm tea and sugar.
***** Part 12: And so, Yuigahama Yui Reveals One of Her Own Many Talents *****
Chapter Notes
     Alternate title: hand jobs can be a spectator sport too
Part 12: And so, Yuigahama Yui Reveals One of Her Own Many Talents


Hachiman blinked.
Yuigahama was mere centimeters away from him. He could make out the sparkling
brown of her eyes, the the way tears clung to her lashes, the deepening blush
on her cheeks. Her lips were parted in a silent exhale and he could feel the
soft wash of air against his own lips.
“I-I don’t want nothing from you,” Yuigahama said, taking a step back. Her
hands were curled into shaking fists, her entire body tense. Her gaze darted
down, away from Hachiman’s own widening eyes. “I don’t hate you. I-I, um, I-”
“I must go.” Yukinoshita rushed towards the door, face bright red and eyes
shining with unshed tears.
“Yukinon, wait!”
Yuigahama blocked the dark haired girl’s exit, grabbing her by the shoulders
and dragging her back towards the table. Yukinoshita went, but she ducked her
head so that a thick curtain of hair blocked her face. Hachiman watched them
silently, body completely still.
“Tell him,” Yuigahama said. Her fingers clenched into the fabric of
Yukinoshita’s uniform and she turned the other girl towards Hachiman.
Hachiman stared at the top of Yukinoshita’s bowed head. Her hair shone silver
in the afternoon sun, the same sun tinting Yuigahama’s hair with streaks of
gold.
“Tell him like I did.”
“Yui…” Yukinoshita backed away, head turned towards Yuigahama.
Yuigahama’s grip tightened on Yukinoshita, but she turned her full attention
towards Hachiman. “Hikigaya Hachiman,” she said sternly. “I like you. Please
accept my confession.”
Hachiman’s mouth dropped - disbelief, shock, and a wave of denial passed
through him. “You don’t mean that.”
“Idiot!” Yuigahama shook Yukinoshita though her insult was aimed at Hachiman.
“You said to tell you. I’m telling you. Do you accept my confession?”
“I-I…” Hachiman moved away unconsciously, the backs of his legs hitting the
edge of the table. “You like me?”
Yuigahama stamped her foot, red face puffing up in indignation. “Yes!”
“Why!”
“What do you mean why?!”
“I don’t understand!”
Struggling under Yuigahama’s grip, Yukinoshita managed to draw attention back
to her. “Yui, let got of me, I don’t want to be here for this.” Her voice
cracked, thin and lacking the coldness of before.
“You have to confess that you like him too!” Yuigahama demanded, her hands
refusing to leave Yukinoshita’s shoulders.
“No!” Yukinoshita struggled harder, but Yuigahama was surprisingly forceful.
“Stop!” Hachiman threw his arms out, breathing as if he had ran a marathon.
“Yuigahama, let Yukinoshita go.”
“No,” Yuigahama persisted.
“Yuiga-” Hachiman stopped, mind conjuring the feeling of soft lips that had
spoken his name in a bittersweet tone. “Yui.”
Yui paused at the familiarity of her name.
“Let her go,” he told her. “She doesn’t have to tell me anything. And besides,
what makes you think she likes me? Only Saika likes me. Maybe Zaimokuza in his
own way.”
“And me,” Yui interjected stubbornly.
“I refuse to believe that,” Hachiman told her flatly.
Yui met his gaze with a straightforward, genuine look. It caused Hachiman to
gulp, the look so direct and purposeful that Hachiman didn’t know what to do
with himself. “Hachiman, you’re smart. And you’re willing to help people
without getting anything back. You’re funny. And you speak your mind. I want to
be straightforward and speak my opinion openly. You’ve helped me with that. So
I am going to do it now. I like you.”
Heat rushed to Hachiman’s face, a tightening feeling in his stomach causing him
to tremble. For once he couldn’t face Yui. “Oh.” He chewed at the inside of his
cheek. “I like you too.”
He looked up in time to see Yui’s beaming grin. “And what about Yukinon?”
“What?” Both Yukinoshita and Hachiman spoke at the same time in the same scared
tone.
“She won’t tell you but I want to know. You like her too, don’t you?”
For the second time in such a short time, Hachiman turned away from Yui’s
earnest, expectant expression. He nodded, refusing to speak.
“See?! He nodded! That means yes!”
Yukinoshita’s head snapped up as Yui shook her in rapturous delight.
Yui pushed Yukinoshita forward. “Now kiss him on the mouth.”
“Yui!” Both Yukinoshita and Hachiman screamed in response.
“You’re both being difficult.” Yui let Yukinoshita go. “I already told you
both. When I win, I take everything.”
Yui marched the few steps to Hachiman, her face flushed but otherwise without
hesitation. She slapped her hands on both of Hachiman’s cheeks, pulling him
down for a long kiss. Hachiman was shocked, but his body, as usual, seemed to
know what to do. Yui gasped as his teeth scraped at her bottom lip and he
slipped the smallest bit of tongue past her parted lips. She pulled away, lips
glistening and eyes alight from within.
Spinning on the spot, Yui grabbed Yukinoshita’s face the same way she had
grabbed Hachiman’s. As she brought their lips together, Hachiman’s knees went
weak, head spinning from the rush of blood to other places. He dropped
gracelessly to the floor. The kiss between Yui and Yukinoshita went as long as
the one between Yui and Hachiman, Yui pulling away with a satisfied noise from
the back of her throat.
“Yui…” Yukinoshita stared in wonder as Yui tugged her hand, bringing both of
them to the floor beside Hachiman.
“There, a kiss from me and an indirect kiss from Hikki,” Yui told her proudly.
“I-I, Yui-” Yukinoshita visibly pulled herself together. “Thank you.”
“Now, Hikki, give me your hand.”
Hachiman complied, right until she put his hand on her ample chest.
Snatching his hand away, Hachiman held his fingers to his own chest,
scandalized. “Yuigahama!”
Huffing, Yui reached for his hand again, tugging it away despite his
reluctance. “You’ll do it with other people but not with us?”
“That’s-” Hachiman sucked in a breath. “You can’t just surprise me like that.”
“Fine, now you know.” Yui put the hand back on her chest with a pointed look,
though Hachiman was happy to see the flush that took over the entirety of her
face as he moved his fingers ever so slightly, putting just a bit of pressure
behind them.
“I’m not…” Yukinoshita trailed off, eyes trained to the place where Hachiman’s
hand groped Yui’s chest.
“We don’t have to touch you if you don’t want us to,” Yui said, voice pitched
low and gentle. “And you don’t have to touch us. You can maybe watch? If you
want.”
Hachiman’s jaw dropped again as Yukinoshita nodded fervently despite the way
she squirmed in embarrassment.
“Hachiman, can I touch you?”
Taken aback by Yui’s forthright manner, Hachiman tilted his head. “What?”
Huffing some more, Yui let go of Yukinoshita’s hand, kissing the other girl’s
knuckles in a sweet, intimate gesture. Then, causing Hachiman’s entire body to
vibrate with stunned anticipation, she moved to straddle him. Her knees hit the
floor on both sides of his right thigh and she slowly pressed herself against
him. He felt warm all over, but infinitely warmer where she sat against him.
Her skirt hiked up, pushed by her movement, and Hachiman saw a flash of pink
underwear. He couldn’t contain the strangled moan.
Sat astride Hachiman’s thigh, Yui moved in close, the soft plumpness of her
chest pressing into his own flatter, harder chest. She moved in, lips a hair's
breadth away from his ear. “Can I touch you?”
Making her point, Yui slipped a hand to his belt as she rocked gently against
his leg.
“Y-yes,” Hachiman groaned. He was hard - much harder than he expected after
getting himself off twice just this morning from the thought of his time with
Saika. His hormonal body was truly a perverted miracle.
Yui bit her lip, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers with a slowness
that set Hachiman’s teeth on edge. As she pulled his cock from his briefs, he
dropped dramatically back until his head hit the floor, unable to handle the
sight and the sensation. Her uncalloused, manicured fingers felt like heaven as
they skimmed along the hot, hard flesh of his erection. His cock twitched as
she moved her exploratory touch to the now leaking head and she gasped, pushing
herself more forcefully against his thigh.
Propping himself up on his elbows, Hachiman watched as she gained more
confidence, wrapping her hand fully around his cock to stroke him up and down.
As her strokes sped up, so did the rocking of her hips. Hachiman pushed back,
body twitching as she brought him closer and closer.
“H-Hachiman,” she moaned, lip chewed to a brilliant, swollen red.
Her body moved more desperately against him and the heat between her legs
became damp against his thigh.
“Yui,” he breathed.
Beside them, a breath hitched and clothes rustled. Something pressed against
the edge of his left leg.
“A-are you?”
Hips losing their rhythm and speeding up, Yui’s simple question seemed to cost
her too much effort, but Hachiman understood and nodded. His gaze was caught by
the way Yui moved, the teasing up and down motion of her hand, the smell of her
hair. Why did girls smell so good? Her skirt was now pushed far enough up that
he could make out the skull and bones pattern printed on her bright pink
panties. He grunted, air pushed out of his lungs as if had been punched.
Yui’s breathing became erratic and he watched her rub frantically against him,
back arching. Her taut body snapped like the release of a bow string as she
moaned. Her fingers tightened where they were wrapped around him and Hachiman
happened to look just to the left, catching Yukinoshita’s glazed eyes and the
slack parting of her lips.
With Yui riding out her orgasm against his thigh, Yukinoshita watching them
with a heaving chest, and a hand firmly pumping his cock, Hachiman came with a
half stifled shout. Dropping fully to the floor once more, Hachiman shivered as
Yui’s languid fingers coaxed the last of his cum from his slowly softening
erection. Uncaring of the stains that covered the small bit of exposed skin and
his school shirt, Hachiman sighed.
Yui moved from where she straddled him, coming instead to lay at his side. He
moved his arm to accommodate her, pulling her in even tighter. They both turned
to look at Yukinoshita, who seemed to take that as the permission it was.
Scooting in close, she took her place at Hachiman’s left side, mirroring Yui’s
position. Hachiman wrapped his other arm around her as Yui smiled serenely at
the two of them. Holding out a hand that Yukinoshita took with barely any
hesitation, Yui laced her fingers with Yukinoshita’s, setting their clasped
hands on Hachiman’s thudding heart.
Though the ground was hard and cold, Hachiman had two soft, warm people pressed
against both sides - people he valued and had come to care for and respect.  
“Don’t touch anyone else anymore,” Yukinoshita demanded into his shoulder,
offering no room for argument.
“What about Sai-chan?” Yui mumbled into his other shoulder as she wriggled like
a content cat.
A thoughtful pause.
“Totsuka is allowed.”
Hachiman nodded. “I accept your terms.”
Yui and Yukinoshita let out twin sighs.
Staring up at the ceiling, brain still fuzzy at the edges, Hachiman could
honestly say he had absolutely no idea how any of this happened.


Outside the Service Club room, a defeated figure skulked away.
“It’s just not the same,” Hina pouted.
As she dragged her feet through the halls, something crossed her mind. A
maniacal smile broke across her face, replacing the unhappiness. “But now I
know what Hikigaya looks like in the throes of passion! The expressions! The
noises! The rapture of climax!”
Cackles echoed through the school as she reached for her pen and paper.
***** Part 13: Let’s All Go To The Movies *****
Chapter Notes
     It's finished! This is the final chapter!!!
     I just have to say, so many thanks to everyone who read this, who
     stuck with it, who left a kudos or a comment. You guys are just the
     best.
     Honestly, this fic was DIFFICULT to write. I've seriously written my
     own original 80k+ novels and they've taken less time, effort, and
     struggle to finish. This fic was planned as one thing, abandoned,
     planned as another thing, and then I just had to scrap all plans and
     write chapters as they came to me. I can't believe I actually managed
     to finish it at last. I'm so happy.
     This one goes out to all the deserving anime that never got their
     next season.
Part 13: Let’s All Go To The Movies


Hachiman slapped his hand to his mouth, muffling his groan.
The movie was loud, but not loud enough that he could risk letting his building
groan out into the open.
In the dark of the half full theater, Saika sat beside him, turned in his seat.
His strong, tennis calloused hand moved up and down his shaft. Occasionally
Saika would sweep his palm over the wet head of his cock, letting his hand
slide with more ease, lessening the friction to a perfect balance between rough
and smooth.
Hachiman shook in his own seat, eyes straining in the light from the film. He
loved watching Saika. He always looked completely focused, but entirely
delighted to be touching Hachiman. His mouth was curved up in a smirk, his eyes
dancing. Those wonderful blue eyes were dark in the barely lit room, pupils
wide and shining like obsidian as he watched Hachiman squirm and tremble at his
touch.
Leaning further over the armrest, Saika whispered into Hachiman’s ear, his hand
relentlessly working up and down Hachiman’s cock. “Please, won’t you come for
me, Hachiman?”
Saika knew exactly what he was doing, Hachiman thought. He knew what he was
doing with those clever fingers. He knew what he was doing with those quick,
sharp jerks. He knew what that sweet tone of voice did to Hachiman. He knew all
he had to do was ask and Hachiman would do just about anything he said.
Shoving his hand into his mouth so hard he felt his own teeth dig into his
flesh, Hachiman came. When his hips finally dropped and his body stopped its
quaking, Hachiman slumped into the cushions of his seat. Head lolling to the
side, Hachiman allowed himself to admire Saika’s satisfied, smug smile before
his eyes flickered over Saika’s now cum covered hand and prominent erection.
Quiet as he could be, Hachiman zipped up his pants and slid from his seat and
onto the floor in front of Saika, causing the younger man to let out a barely
audible whimper. Luckily, no one was sat on Saika’s side. Pushing Saika’s knees
apart, Hachiman settled himself in between the smaller man’s legs.
With a predatory smirk of his own, Hachiman gripped Saika’s wrist and pulled
the cum covered hand to his mouth. Never breaking eye contact with Saika,
Hachiman licked his hand clean, sucking his own spend from Saika’s now
twitching fingers. Hungry eyes stared down at him and Hachiman knew that if the
lighting was better, he would have gotten to admire a truly magnificent blush.
Even though they were more comfortable than ever with each other, Saika was
still a blusher (something he shared with Yui and Yukino) and Hachiman still
worshipped him.
Once all the evidence of his orgasm was cleaned thoroughly from Saika’s hand,
Hachiman reached for the other boy’s fly. Saika’s attention never strayed,
focused entirely on Hachiman as he rubbed at Saika’s bulge. Deciding that
teasing was for another time when they weren’t in a public theater, Hachiman
unzipped Saika’s trousers (the nice ones he wore just for dates) and released
his straining erection.
Like the rest of him, Saika’s cock was pretty and perfect. It was full, hard,
and completely proportionate to his body. It was just the right size for
Hachiman to wrap his hand around. And, most importantly for the moment, it was
the perfect size to fit in Hachiman’s mouth and down his throat.
Hachiman took Saika in quickly, bobbing his head and letting the blunt head
brush at the back of his throat. Saika’s hips wiggled, but he was always
considerate even when he had Hachiman on his knees, never jerking up far enough
to choke Hachiman. Pulling back in a long, slow suck, Hachiman felt Saika’s
hand slide into his hair, tugging lightly.
Moaning around Saika, Hachiman hoped the cock in his mouth was enough to muffle
the noise. Saika seemed unconcerned about being caught, expression incandescent
with joyful lust. However, his erection was hard and throbbing against
Hachiman’s tongue, so he knew that soon Saika would be shutting those eyes as
he came.
Redoubling his efforts, Hachiman added a hand to fondle Saika’s balls and that
was all Saika needed to come, hot seed pulsing into Hachiman’s waiting, eager
mouth.
Swallowing with a large gulp and a pleased smile, Hachiman tucked Saika back
into his pants and returned to his own seat. They laced their fingers together,
hands held in Saika’s lap, and watched the rest of the movie uninterrupted.
 
When the credits rolled and the lights went up, Hachiman turned his head to
look at Yui and Yukinoshita, certain they must’ve heard or seen something. He
was even ready for a lecture about public indecency (which would not have been
the first time). However, he saw both girls had suspiciously red and swollen
lips and Yui’s normally perfect side bun was loose and dishevelled, like
fingers had bumped into it more than once. Yukino also had a button on her
shirt undone.
Saika jumped up, pulling Hachiman up with him. “So, what about the cafe?”
“Yes! I hear they have good tiramisu!” Yui tried to fix her hair, but her bun
refused to cooperate, falling limply to the side until she gave up and just
tugged her hair free.
Yukino simply nodded, discreetly buttoning her shirt as Hachiman and Saika
pretended not to notice.
 
The cafe was new, popular, and well furnished, but Hachiman didn’t care all
that much about it. As long as the coffee was strong, he was happy to pay.
Also, Saika would sometimes share food with him and Hachiman could feel his
soul transcend his body with every bite of Hachiman-Saika-shared food that went
into his and Saika’s mouths. The only thing better than free food was Saika-
shared food, Hachiman decided.
He and Yukino went to order while Yui and Saika held their table. Glancing over
at Yukino, Hachiman felt his stomach flutter. Under her jaw was a large love
bite, sucked to a brilliant red. Recognizing Yui’s work, Hachiman paused, which
drew her attention.
“What is it?” She tipped her head to the side, sharp gaze softened at the
edges.
“You should cover that up.” He pointed at her neck, circling his finger mid air
to make a point.
Her hand shot up, hiding the hickey from sight. Her collar was too low to cover
such a high mark and Hachiman didn’t think she had brought a scarf. “Here, you
can have this.”
Taking his own scarf off and wrapping it around her neck instead, Hachiman
adjusted the soft fabric until it completely covered her exposed skin.
“Thank you,” Yukino muttered into the scarf, lips obscured.
Hachiman nodded and moved back towards the cashier, not making a big deal of it
as thin, cold, soft fingers slipped tentatively into his hand. He squeezed her
hand back, but otherwise said nothing.
 
When Yukino and Hachiman returned with trays full of drinks and desserts, they
hesitated and shared a dubious look. Yui and Saika were no longer alone,
instead joined by Hayama, Miura, Ebina, and Tobe.
Hachiman and Yukino approached the newcomers with distrust and wariness.
“Hachiman, look who joined us!” Saika scooted his chair, making sure Hachiman
had plenty of space in the seat next to him.
Yui did the same for Yukino, beaming at the other girl happily. “Yukinon, next
to me!”
At the table next to theirs, the four watched them like hawks. Hachiman
shivered in fear. Ebina had a look in her eyes that boded ill.
“Hello,” Yukino greeted the others politely, if distantly.
“Hm,” Hachiman grunted with a nod. Without paying them much more attention,
Hachiman set Saika’s food in front of him. “Here you go, Saika.”
Hayama’s gaze seemed to zero in on him. “What have you all been up to? Having a
fun weekend?”
Nodding as he took a sip of his matcha latte, Saika grinned with an open ease
only Yui seemed capable of matching at the moment. “Yeah, we just saw a movie.”
“Which one?” Miura sounded bored, but her eyes were blazing as they dodged over
the group and back to Hayama.
Yui said the name and went on a small explanation of the plot, skipping over
some parts with a vague wave of her hand. Hachiman smirked at her and winked.
She blushed bright red, but she kept going on dutifully. Next to her, Yukino
hid her face, covering her own reaction.
Hayama stood up immediately. “I’ll go get our drinks and food!”
His group provided their orders, Miura getting up to help him as well - leaving
them with Ebina and Tobe.
“So, is this like a double date?” Tobe asked. Tactful as always, Hachiman
thought with a kind of resigned judgement. Tobe had his arm thrown over the
back of Ebina’s chair, but he wasn’t as in her space as he had been before.
Hachiman briefly wondered if he had learned his lesson about bothering her
before he looked to his own group, brow furrowed.
He couldn’t really call what they were on a double date, could he? It didn’t
seem to apply. What was it called when you went on a date with your boyfriend
and girlfriends who were also girlfriends? Was there a term for it? In all his
studies, he had never come across such a word.
“No?” Hachiman settled on, mind still wondering if he ought to look for a word.
Maybe he could make one up? It would certainly be something to be remembered
for.
“Huh.” Tobe looked over them wonderingly, confusion in the crease of his frown.
An awkward silence followed, only broken once Hayama and Miura returned.
They all ate and drank, Saika and Yui leading most of the conversation with
Miura and Tobe assisting. Occasionally Hayama provided a bland sort of non-
insightful insight, but Hachiman didn’t bother with even that much.
“Try some of this,” Saika offered, smiling blindingly as he held out a forkful
of tiramisu.
Opening his mouth, Hachiman took the proffered bite, humming in satisfaction as
he licked cocoa powder and cream from the fork. “It’s good. Want to try mine?”
Saika nodded and popped his mouth open immediately, accepting the small
spoonful of whipped cream, custard, and strawberry. Hachiman fed him, smiling a
small, adoring smile when Saika nodded his head in happy approval.
There was a shriek of metal on ceramic and Hachiman’s focus was pulled towards
Hayama, whose hand was white knuckled around his fork.
“Ha ha, sorry. Clumsy, I guess!” Hayama laughed a particularly fake laugh and
shrugged in his most impressive example of pretend good humor yet.
Hachiman made a face at that and Hayama seemed to deflate as he slowly set his
fork aside with an unsettled sense of defeat.
“Yui, we haven’t gone out in awhile,” Miura said into the uncomfortable
tenseness that followed Hayama’s faux pas with his fork. A fork pas, Hachiman
laughed in his own mind. Oh god, what was happening to him. Was this happiness?
Did happiness make him pun too? And cheerfully at that? How strange.
“Oh, um, yeah. I’ve been busy with, um, Yukinon and Hachiman and studying. I’m
sorry!”
Yui bowed her head in apology, but Yukino reached over and gripped her forearm
in a silent show of support and Yui was sitting straight once more.
There was a quiet moment of crackling tension as Miura and Yukino stared each
other down. It was thankfully interrupted by Ebina.
“Hikki, Saika, I see you both still have some food left…” Her eyebrows waggled
up and down suggestively, her hand curled around a pen as she scribbled at a
notebook on her lap.
Hachiman sighed.
 
A few hours later, as Hachiman walked Saika home (Yui had gotten a lift from
Yukino and her fancy, black, bone breaking car), Hachiman wondered at how
things had turned out.
Everything had been set up to result in failure. It simply made more sense for
him to have a life without fulfillment and full of misery. There was no
scenario he saw that ended in anything other than being alone, sad, and at
fault for his own failings. Instead, he ended up here - walking hand in hand
with Saika after spending a fun day with him, Yui, and Yukino.  
“You’re thinking something sweet about us, I can tell,” Saika giggled, tugging
Hachiman from his reverie with his words as much as his hand. He pressed a
tender kiss to the corner of Hachiman’s mouth. “Come on, my parents aren’t
home.”
Hachiman allowed himself to be dragged towards Saika’s, his smile going dopey.
“When are your parents ever home?”
“Are you complaining?”
“For once in my life, no.”
Saika’s laughter was music to Hachiman’s ears.


Several days later, just before he left for school, Hachiman found himself
staring down at another collection of glossy folded papers and magazines laid
strategically out over the table.
“Komachi!” His sister’s response was absolute silence. “Stop leaving abstinence
pamphlets lying around!”
He grabbed the papers, dumping them unceremoniously into the trash. “And stop
wasting money on wedding magazines that I’m just going to throw away!”
Komachi came skidding into the living room, her face tortured. “Don’t you
dare!”
“Too late,” he shrugged.
Wailing, Komachi shoved her face into her hands. “Who will marry you now, Onii-
chan?! No one will wed someone so loose! This isn’t what I meant when I said
you should care more about romance!”
Bopping her on the top of her head, Hachiman moved towards the door,
unconcerned. “You’re supposed to by my cute little sister, stop talking like
this. You’re losing so many points.”
“I deserve all the points after walking in on you and Saika.”
“Yui and Yukino were there too,” he pointed out.
“That doesn’t make it better!!!”
“Don’t come into my room unannounced.”
“You left the door open!”
“Which wouldn’t have been a problem if you were at your friend’s like you said
you would be. You’re lucky we weren’t still on the couch.”
 
Komachi’s screech shook birds from their nests.  
 
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