A rounded metal bar pressed into the small of Uruha’s back, forcing him to arch over it in an almost graceful manner if Aoi’s body wasn’t pinning him there.  Aoi’s lips pressed hotly against the blond’s already heated skin, teeth scraping at what soft flesh he could reach. Their bare feet slipped slightly against the dirt on the floor.

Above them, the crowd jumped to their feet and roared. They were under the bleachers at a baseball game—which Aoi was supposed to be the star player in, but he had pleaded out due to a ‘cold.’ Everyone else had paid the entrance fee to watch the game, but Uruha had paid the entrance fee for Aoi to watch him.

Shirt hanging from one arm and his pants pooled on the floor, Aoi roughly parted Uruha’s milky thighs and thrust into the hole between them until the blond cried out, wrapping his arms around the dark-haired boy’s neck. He loved it when Uruha was wanton like this, a strong perfume of arousal permeating from his sweet skin and leaving him wanting more. It was far more erotic than any art Aoi had ever seen. The greatest thing about their little affair, though, was that no one else even suspected it.

“Deep…er,” Uruha gasped, pushing back down, his fingernails scraping down the smooth expanse of Aoi’s back.

“”Do you know how hard it is to thrust deeper standing up?” Aoi growled in the back of his throat, jerking his hips forward, his grip on Uruha’s waist almost bruising as he tried to comply. But it seemed to do to the trick since the blond’s lips parted in supple, pleading moans.

“Not r-really…you don’t let me do the thrusting,” Uruha teased between pants, his face contorted up in pleasure as the head of Aoi’s cock slid coarsely against a particularly sensitive spot inside. Their undulating bodies trembled together, Uruha’s fingers clenching hard at Aoi’s arms. Thick white fluid burst between their bodies, Uruha’s voice rising with his heightened arousal, and Aoi’s tongue slipped into the other boy’s waiting mouth, a rumble vibrating in the back of his throat as he came.

Sighing in relief and kissing Uruha’s cheek fondly, Aoi pulled out of the blond’s body and settled the other boy’s shaking legs on the floor. When he was sure Uruha was okay about standing on his own, he turned to pull on his own clothes, scanning the ground for where his uniform tie might’ve gone. Suddenly aware of his nakedness, Uruha darted around the place looking for where Aoi had thrown his clothes before he’d been pinned to the metal bars and felt a shameful flush rise to his cheeks at how sticky he felt.

“Aoi?” Uruha began, swallowing nervously as he put his shirt back on. “Are we—are we lovers?”

Aoi’s head snapped up in shock at the question, knitting his brow and thought for a while about how to carefully phrase his response. Those large inquiring eyes searched him for some sort of proof that this wasn’t just another one of their sordid dates and he couldn’t bring himself to leave the question open-ended and unanswered.

“Sure. We’re secret lovers, okay?”

Forcing a weak smile, Uruha nodded, zipping up his pants. He knew Aoi had his responsibilities; the most popular boy in school had a reputation to uphold and someone as reticent as Uruha would only bring that hard-earned title down. Uruha knew that, but he still wished Aoi had said something different.

“I’ll catch you around then.” He waved goodbye to Aoi, anxiously scurried back through the stadium’s gates towards the boy’s locker room.

_______

Curled up under the sluicing cold water of the showers, Uruha’s teeth chattered, the noise echoing off the empty tiled walls. The baseball team had grabbed their duffel bags and left half an hour ago and he was all alone in the locker room, washing the smell of sex from his flesh. He couldn’t go back and risk his father finding out that he hadn’t really gone out to watch a movie.

There was no soap so Uruha scrubbed himself the best he could with his hands. Despite how sticky and hot the March weather was outside, he wanted to have a warm shower but he knew if he did, he’d get hard again from thinking about Aoi. Shutting off the shower, he dried off with a long roll of paper towels, cringing as the rough paper slid harshly against his skin, leaving red scratches down his arms and legs.

As he stood there, naked and shivering from the cold, he wished Aoi would pop up out of nowhere, pull him into a hug, and say, “I finally figured out where you go afterwards” while caressing his neck.

But Aoi was at home, in his warm bed, asleep.

_______

Delicately running a paintbrush over the lawn of the picture, Uruha drew a thin blades of yellow grass among the green. He was alone in the art studio of the school. The teacher had gone home and it was at least two hours after school had let out; all of the sports teams were heading home about now too. Spring air filled the room with the smell of sun and colored wherever it had been white gold.

A wisp of blond hair, having fallen out of his ponytail, tickled his cheek. Ignoring it, Uruha went on mixing his paints to match the hue of dappled concrete for the blank rectangular sketch of a building in the painting. Music, a little orchestral and a little rock-ish at the same time, masked the sound of cautious footsteps.

“What are you painting?”

The voice made Uruha jump and knock a bottle of paint to the floor, red splattering the tile. “Aoi!?” he exclaimed incredulously, scrambling for a roll of paper towels on the table to clean up the mess on the floor before it stained. Hastily, Aoi kneeled down to help him wipe up the paint, unconscious of how close they were. Uruha sucked in a breath, but didn’t say anything as Aoi’s head brushed shoulder.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you,” Aoi murmured in a low tone, tossing the crumpled paper towels in the trashcan and setting the bottle back where it had been. Shrugging, the blond settled back on his stool, leaning back to scrutinize what was on his easel. Coming around back to wrap his arms around Uruha’s thin waist, hearing the younger boy’s breath hitch in his throat at the contact, Aoi buried his nose in the side of the honey blond hair and inhaled the smell of flowers. “What are you painting?” he asked again.

“The schoolyard,” Uruha answered, his toes curling in his shoes when Aoi nibbled at a vein in his neck and he clutched tighter at the edges of his seat. “There’s you.” He motioned to a baseball player running towards home plate and then pointed at the open window of the unfinished school building. “And I’m supposed to be there.”

“Watching me all afternoon?” Aoi cheekily queried, his lips quirking up into a smirk at the thought of consuming Uruha’s thoughts.

“I always watch you. You just don’t ever look back to see it. You’re too busy,” Uruha flatly pointed out.

“Oh. Next time, I’ll be sure to look then,” Aoi breathed, warm breath washing over the blond’s slightly quivering body. Uruha’s fingers were shaking so badly he hadn’t bothered to pick up the paintbrush again because he didn’t want to mess up the painting with unsure hands. Slowly Aoi moved until he was standing between Uruha’s open legs, his hands cradling the blond’s chin as his mouth traveled from underneath Uruha’s chin to his waiting lips.

 Their kisses were soft, almost just ghosting their lips past each other. Aoi had never kissed him like this before and Uruha’s heart was beating so fast that he thought it might just leap out of his throat. He was more used to Aoi manhandling him covertly under the bleachers. No number of kisses they shared under those stadium stands would ever add up to the one they were sharing right now.

When he felt Aoi’s lips press more substantially against his, Uruha instinctively pulled away, eyes downcast. Aoi was still holding onto his shoulders, confused as to what was wrong.

“Why don’t you ever hang out with me?” Uruha’s voice was tiny, fearful, and Aoi bit his lip, not knowing how to answer once again. “Why do we have to be secret lovers? Why can’t we just be lovers? We’re graduating this spring so it won’t even matter if you’re not popular anymore ‘cos all your friends will be going off to college. You’ll all look back on your high school days and say ‘Look how silly the whole popularity thing was,’ won’t you?”

 “I’m not smart and I’m not talented like you. It’d be so great if I could just be prom king for senior year and I need my popularity for votes, you know?” Aoi gently replied in the most soothing voice he could muster. If anybody found out that he was having sex with another boy, he would be in some deep shit and the charm he had worked up over four years of high school would go to waste.

Swallowing the thick lump in his throat, Uruha sniffed, pushing Aoi gently out of the way to return to his painting. “Maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore—under the bleachers, in the bathroom, wherever.” Dropping his hands in his lap, he directed his disappointment at his pallet. “Maybe you should go now, too.”

Rubbing the side of his nose in disbelief, Aoi pressed his lips together in a thin line of shock and nodded, his footsteps fading down the hallway and away from the secluded studio.

_______

Uruha and Aoi did not talk again for two months. It was a suffocating silence since the teacher had assigned the only seat next to Aoi to Uruha. Girls kept badgering him to give up his desk so they could sit next to Aoi instead and he was just trying to get through senior year without going insane.

Clicking his pen against his palm, Uruha bent his head down further over his work. He could feel Aoi staring at him despite the fact that they were supposed to be writing an essay and the dark-haired boy hadn’t written a single word. Ignoring it the best he could, he continued to scribble the conclusion of his essay in his bubbly handwriting. A good grade in language composition was required if Uruha were to get into a good school.

“Pens down. Turn your essays up here,” the teacher announced. A rush of students slapped their essays down on her desk before quickly retrieving their things and leaving as the bell for lunch rang. Hundreds of students spilled into the hallways.

Clutching the blank canvas he had brought from home protectively to his chest, Uruha darted his way through the crowd without looking up. He was scared of looking up and seeing Aoi look back at him with those fathomless dark eyes. Grabbing his lunch pail from his locker, Uruha quickly started towards the exit of the building for the cafeteria, trying to leave before Aoi’s crew of friends and fangirls came stampeding.

No such luck. As he pushed open the glass door, his arm brushed Aoi’s and he felt the other boy try to grab his hand, but he shook it off. Throwing a warning glance at Aoi, Uruha headed towards his usual spot under a large oak tree in the courtyard and unwrapped his sandwich: turkey and cheese, just like always.

Before he could take a bite, he could hear Aoi’s harem coming towards him. The girls were squealing “Kyaaaaaaaah~ Aoi-sama, you’re so smart! One-hundred percent on your last test!?” and Uruha had to take a deep breath to keep from screaming in frustration. Aoi only got good grades on tests because even though they weren’t talking, Uruha let him copy. Covering his ears, Uruha tried his best to overlook the large cluster of people standing on the other side of the walk way so he could concentrate on eating and visualizing what should be on his next painting at the same time.

Leaving his group of friends confused, Aoi broke away from them to make his way across the courtyard to where the lonely blond. The same puzzlement was prominent in Uruha’s eyes when he fearfully fitted a name to the shadow looming over his figure.

“Can I have a bite of that?” Aoi casually asked, pointing at the uneaten half of a sandwich in the other boy’s hand and settled down on the lawn next to him. Still shocked that Aoi was paying this much public attention to him, Uruha nodded, holding out his food to the dark-haired boy. His breathing shallowed as he watched Aoi’s white teeth sink into the soft bread, his tongue darting out to catch a crumb stuck to the side of his mouth.

Somehow, Uruha managed to find his voice again. “You’re cheating, Aoi,” he wryly grumbled, trying to be as upset as he could. “I told you I don’t like you anymore and you didn’t protest that. Now you’re leading me on again.”

“That doesn’t matter. That sandwich is fantastic and someone with a sandwich as fabulous as that shouldn’t be eating alone.” Aoi leaned closer into Uruha’s side with an apologetic grin dancing over his lips. The blond mumbled something that sounded like, “I always eat alone,” and Aoi’s heart dropped a little; he felt guilty for never realizing how lonely such a beautiful person was.

“Your friends are staring. You should just tell me what you want and go back to them,” Uruha blurted out, trying to avoid the prying gazes of his entire group. He didn’t even notice how nervous he was about Aoi being so close until his shaking fingers dropped his sandwich back onto its foil.

Clearing his throat, Aoi took Uruha’s trembling hands in his and loudly declared so everyone in proximity could hear, “Will you go to the prom with me, Uruha?”

Thud.

A girl hit the ground from shock.

In complete awe, Uruha cocked his head to the side, unable to do anything in reply without his throat making weird squeaking noises. The entire population of the school was staring at them now. Licking his dry lips, Uruha opened and closed his mouth several times, succeeding in making himself look like a desperate fish on land. Expectantly, Aoi raised a brow.

“Will you?” he asked again, his voice warmer and more inviting than before to lure Uruha into comfort.

Eyes anxiously flitting around in a circle, from the first person behind Aoi’s head back to Aoi, Uruha took a deep breath to calm his erratic respiration and nodded furiously.

“Say it. Tell me that you want to go with me,” Aoi quietly requested.

“Yes,” Uruha finally squeaked after a moment of trying to get his voice to work. When the words fell out of his mouth, a deep flush uncontrollably colored his pale cheeks and no matter how hard he rubbed at his face with the back of his hands, it wouldn’t fade.

Tilting Uruha’s chin back up with his thumb, Aoi smirked in that usual mischeivous bad boy way of his and without as much as a single word of warning, planted a tender kiss on the blond’s pliant lips. When he pulled away and scanned the other boy’s face, he noticed that Uruha’s eyes were welling with unshed tears and hastily wiped them away with his handkerchief.

“You’re so mean, Aoi! You spend an entire year fooling around with me and now you get all nice and ask me out!” Uruha whispered harshly, pushing on the other boy’s chest for emphasis. Aoi could only grin stupidly back because he was so happy, he didn’t care what insults flew out of Uruha’s sweet mouth.

“Hey, no more time under the bleachers, okay?” Aoi interrupted the blond’s soft rambling as the rest of the school broke into chatter again.

“More time in your bed?”

Aoi furrowed his brow and playfully cuffed Uruha on the side of the head, kissing the spot he had hit. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

________

 




A/N: don't go back jinnz >< *kidnaps* 
Ah~ High school...I'm not going to prom 'cos guess what? I'm graduating early. *shot* But if Aoi, I'd definitely go. xDD Lawl.

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