saturday, i'm in love

by orphan_account

Summary:

It's like Freaky Friday, only gayer and not incestuous.

"Kasamatsu Senpai acts like he’s the only victim in this scenario, but Ryouta has to beg to differ. When he woke up this morning, he was definitely not expecting to wake up in Kasamatsu Yukio’s room in Kasamatsu Yukio’s body."

Notes:

The timestamp on this fic is somewhere between Kise and Kasamatsu's first meeting and the first game of Interhigh.

wednesday

People say Mondays are the worst days of the week, but if you ask Yukio, he would definitely say that this Wednesday outweighs every horrible Monday that he has ever experienced. Walking up the stairs and across the hall to the corridor filled with third years, Yukio searches for him: Kise. One would think that finding a basketball player in a sea of high schoolers would be easier than this.

“And then I saw him putting the puppy in the basket!” He hears his voice around the corner, and walks up to Kise and grabs his shoulder.

Kise’s standing with a group of his classmates and telling some joke--which apparently they all thought was hilarious. Yukio raises his brow and gives Kise a withering look.

“What are you doing? Why didn’t you call me as soon as you realized what was happening, you...” Yukio looks over and sees his classmates staring in bewilderment. He smiles, feeling it falter every second he has to hold it. “Senpai, you should have called me.”

Kise waves at him before turning to his classmates and saying, "Gotta go. Looks like the freshman needs me." Everybody laughs.

If Yukio rolled his eyes any harder, they would be in great danger of falling out of his head. As soon as he gets Kise into the basketball club room, he resumes frowning at him.

“For one, I don’t even talk like that,” he says. He’s positive that he’s never even talked to those people, and now they were laughing at jokes about puppies! Dragging a hand down his face, Yukio glares at his reflection in the mirror.

Kise's face stares back at him, an unusually grouchy expression wrinkling his features. He remembers waking up this morning in a room that didn’t belong to him and a body that was definitely not his own. It took him about thirty seconds to find the bathroom and stare into the mirror in horror.

“This is not happening to me,” he whispered, touching his--Kise’s--face. “Please, please let this be a bad dream.” Before crawling back into bed, he gave his arm a pinch. When there was no magical poof of his nightmares collapsing in the light of morning, Yukio groaned.

The situation did nothing to improve itself when he opened the cabinet and saw no less than seventeen bottles staring out at him, labeled with elusive and unhelpful English phrases like mirage and aromatherapy. Yukio grabbed the bottle he could see labeled as “cleaner” and slammed the cabinet shut. He started washing his face like he could somehow wash away Kise’s face and look up to see his own. That was the single thought that got him through his morning: school meant seeing Kise, and seeing Kise meant that he could have his body back. Although the idiot in question didn’t seem to share the same concern, as he didn’t return any of Yukio’s seven voice mails.

“Are you waiting for someone to call, Ryou-chan?” his mother asked when he took out his phone for the fifth time.

What an embarrassing nickname. Yukio turned to Kise’s mother and gave a quick smile. “No, I was just checking the time. I think I should be heading off to school now,” he said, before practically bolting out the door.

Which leads him here to the club room, standing in front of Kise, who is stuck in Yukio’s body. Taking out Kise’s phone, he shoves it into his hand.

“My name isn’t ‘Grouchy Ass Senpai,’ as flattering as that is,” he says shortly, holding out his hand for his own phone.

Kise doesn’t hand it back immediately. “What if someone calls us? We don’t even sound alike,” he says, sounding reasonable for once. Yukio is definitely starting to worry.

When Yukio can’t find anything to say to that, Kise puts his phone back into Yukio’s breast pocket and pats it once. He considers punching his arm, but the bell for first period rings and Kise is practically skipping out of the club room.

“Meet me back here at the end of first period!” he barks, feeling himself pale at the thought of Kise running around school in his body.

*

Kasamatsu Senpai acts like he’s the only victim in this scenario, but Ryouta has to beg to differ. When he woke up this morning, he was definitely not expecting to wake up in Kasamatsu Yukio’s room in Kasamatsu Yukio’s body.

Clutching at his face in the bathroom, Ryouta let out a horrified scream. Hearing a knock at the door, Ryouta swallowed.

“Yukio, is everything okay in there?”

Probably his mom, or sister--not that Ryouta knew if Kasamatsu Senpai even had siblings.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine!” he answered, staring at his face some more. Senpai needed some wrinkle cream and a serious application of moisturizer. Otherwise, he was hard-pressed to admit, Kasamatsu Senpai wasn’t an eyesore. He probably had a lot of potential hidden underneath his sleeveless T-shirts and basketball shorts, too.

Looking around, he locked the door and undressed slowly. He was just making sure Senpai’s body was clean when they figured out...whatever this was. If it just so happened that he had to see the inevitable in the process, well, that wasn’t Ryouta’s fault.

"Holy shit," he said, all of his clothes--well, Senpai's clothes--piled around his feet. He stared at Senpai's abs (not so surprising, since Ryouta caught flashes of them whenever Senpai lifted his shirt to wipe off his sweat), then further down. He whistled softly. "That's impressive." Then he turned around and twisted his head to check out Senpai's ass. "That's not bad, either. It's even better without the shorts."

It was only when Senpai’s mom knocked on the door and said, “Yukio, you’re going to be late for school!” that Ryouta finally stepped into the shower--which was really pitiful and understocked--to wash his hair. Honestly, hadn't Senpai ever heard of conditioner?

He kind of wants to ask him when they meet in the club room again how he gets his hair to stay so soft without conditioner, but Senpai is looking down at him with that expression that he gets during the middle of practice when Ryouta walks in late, and that really can’t be good for his face.

“S-Senpai,” he says, “if you keep doing that...” Ryouta swallows before wailing, “If you keep doing that, my face is going to start wrinkling prematurely.”

The murderous expression on his face doesn’t dissipate, and Ryouta wants to reach up and smooth out the creases. He seriously thinks about it when Kasamatsu Senpai whacks him over the head with a DVD case.

“Don’t you have priorities!” he asks.

Ryouta could ask the same of him. “I have a photoshoot this Friday, Senpai, I can’t start wrinkling now!”

The photoshoot on Friday. Ryouta thinks about Kasamatsu Senpai standing in front of the camera and scowling at the photographer and threatening to kick over everything on the set with the swing of his leg. Senpai’s probably also thinking about the photoshoot, if the look on his face is anything to go by: somehow horrified and annoyed all at once.

"Can't you cancel it?"

It’s Ryouta’s turn to be horrified now. “What? No, this is my job!” he says indignantly.

“Well, you might be looking at unemployment soon if I go to a photoshoot in your body,” he snaps.

Ryouta chews on his lip. "Look, there's nothing we can do right now to fix this. Why don't we just go through the day and do our best to pretend to be each other?" He does his best imitation of Kasamatsu Senpai's scowl and snaps, "Stop talking down to me and do twenty laps around the school, freshman!"

Kasamatsu Senpai looks very unimpressed. "Do you really think that's all there is to me? That's like me going around flipping my hair and smiling and saying that's a good imitation of you."

Ryouta shrugs. "Most people wouldn't even notice anything off."

The expression on Kasamatsu Senpai’s face turns--well, Ryouta isn’t sure he knows what to call it, especially not when he says, “You don’t honestly think that I believe your shallow model charade.”

Ryouta’s smile fades. It takes him a moment to think of something that he could possibly have to say to that. "Whatever you believe, the point is that you have to go to my photoshoot unless we're back to normal.”

When Kasamatsu Senpai only makes a discontented noise, Ryouta makes him promise to go to the photoshoot “no matter what.” They shake on it.

*

The one thing that Ryouta is really looking forward to, while he's in Kasamatsu Senpai's body, is basketball practice. He also enjoys chatting up the third years, checking Senpai's phone for any evidence of a girlfriend, and scowling at people and watching them slink away with muttered apologies. But the real highlight is basketball practice, because that's when he'll get to yell at everyone and kick them. He thinks he can do a very convincing job of that.

It turns out that he can. As soon as the team lines up for their usual warm up drill, he’s barking out orders and telling the team to get a move on. Ryouta is positive that no one notices that anything is amiss, not even when he kicks Moriyama Senpai and tells him to stop staring at the crowd of Kise Ryouta fangirls to the side.

Kasamatsu Senpai is giving him not so subtle glares. Honestly, can't he show some consideration with Ryouta's face? Ryouta is going to need need anti-wrinkle cream by the time they figure this thing out.

“Oi, Kise!” he calls out, giving the best put-upon captain expression. When Kasamatsu Senpai looks back at him with a scowl, Ryouta starts. “How many more drills do you think you can skip out on? How about ten laps around the school?”

He wonders if Kasamatsu Senpai will tell him, "Screw you" and punch him for good measure. He looks like he wants to do it. But after a moment, the murderous expression passes, and he says, "No, captain. Sorry, captain, I'll get back to work now!" He even manages a smile and the one-handed salute that Ryouta's taken to giving him whenever he orders Ryouta around.

There's no need for him to kick Senpai when he's listening to his orders, but then again, Senpai often kicks him even after he's agreed to run twenty laps around the school. Ryouta makes sure to get a good running start before he jumps and kicks Senpai in the ass.

"What the hell--" Senpai whirls around, and Ryouta instinctively starts to raise his hands over his head to ward off any punches. Then they both freeze and stare at each other. "Senpai," Kasamatsu Senpai says--and it's so weird to hear him call Ryouta that--with a look that he probably thinks is winning but actually looks more like a grimace, "what was that for?"

What would Kasamatsu Senpai say? Ryouta wracks his mind and comes up with, "Are you talking down to your captain, punk? When I tell you to walk, you run. When I tell you to run, you ask, 'How many laps?' Don't give me any talkback!" He tries not to smile. He should really think about going into acting.

He expects Senpai to say something in retort, but all he does is give Ryouta a dirty look--and maybe he should say something--before he takes off on the first of his ten laps.

*

Yukio hasn’t been this sore since...well, in a really long time, and it takes a considerable amount of willpower for him to stand at the school gates rather than go home to collapse in his--Kise’s--bed. When Kise finally walks out of the gates, he grabs him by the arm and does his best not to punch him in his smug face.

“Oh, Kise, have you been waiting for--”

“What the hell was that back there?” he snaps, feeling his temper rise.

Kise shrugs. “I think I did a pretty good job.” He pushes his hair back and makes the most ridiculous expression that Yukio never wanted to see on his face. “I think I could break into Hollywood at this rate, Senpai.”

All the resolve he had earlier not to punch Kise in the mouth is slowly dwindling with each passing second. "You're not even American," he says. "No, fuck, that's not even the point here. Are you trying to turn me into a laughingstock?"

"What?" Kise looks genuinely confused. "I was just acting the way you always do."

"Are you serious?" Yukio starts listing all the things Kise did today, ticking them off on his fingers. "You were ridiculous. You yelled at the team for no reason, kicked them unnecessarily, and handed out punishments that were much harsher than they had to be."

Kise raises a brow. “Really? I mean, Yamato was totally asking for the forty jump squats, and Hayakawa Senpai wasn’t even making any of the layup drills, and Moriyama Senpai--okay, maybe that one was a little personal, but other than that I made good judgement calls."

"Do you even know the definition of good judgement calls?" he asks.

Yukio sees the way his own brow starts to furrow, a lot like what happens when he gets irritated. “You’re just mad because I made you run ten laps around the school.”

He is actually incredulous. “No, I’m mad because as long as you're in my body, you're the captain of this team. Maybe you don't care, but I take that position very seriously, and today you made a mockery of it."

"I don't see how it's a mockery, when that's exactly how you are," Kise says.

Yukio can only stare. Even the urge to punch Kise leaves him, replaced with surprise and something heavy around his heart. "Is that the kind of captain that you think I am?"

Kise’s mouth falls open, jaw gone slack, and he tries to say something. “Wait, Senpai. I didn’t mean it like that, I just--”

Holding up a hand, Yukio says, “No, I get it.” He pulls out his phone, pretending to check the time. “I should get going, it’s getting late.”

He turns around before Kise can answer, and doesn’t look back even when he calls after him.

*

thursday

How does Kise survive being crushed by his fangirls every day? Or, more accurately, how does he not get crushed by them? Whenever Yukio sees him at school, he never has a hair out of place, even after signing twenty autographs. Yukio, on the other hand, can feel himself getting increasingly frazzled as the fifteenth girl approaches him with a photo of Kise posing on the beach in nothing but swim trunks. For some mysterious reason, he's eating a cone of ice cream, which is dripping onto his chest.

"Kise-kun," she says. How does that brat Kise manage to induce this glazed over look in all of his fans' eyes? Yukio tries to smile, even though the muscles in his mouth are twitching from the effort. "Will you sign this photo for me?"

"Yeah, sure," he says, holding his hand out. "Give it here."

The girl’s eyes go wide with surprise, and Yukio can only guess that means she wasn’t expecting "Kise-kun" to be so abrupt. He tamps down on the desire to roll his eyes and whips out his pen before scrawling the best approximation of “Kise Ryouta” that he can right across Kise’s face. Yukio thinks the signature came out all right; he’s seen it enough times in advertisements and magazine spreads to know its general shape.

Apparently Kise-kun’s fan doesn’t think so, as she frowns at the signature. “This isn’t Kise-kun’s signature,” she says.

Yukio can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes now. “I’m Kise, aren’t I? I signed it. It’s my signature.”

Kise’s fan makes an affronted noise before turning away on her heel. Yukio feels a spiteful sort of glee in knowing that Kise Ryouta’s fanclub no doubt just lost a member, and that there would be forum posts made by Japanese high school girls defaming his character on the Internet before the end of first period.

Then the bell for first period rings, and he curses and sprints to class. He doesn't even need to go, because these aren't his classes, but he knows Kise's grades are barely keeping him on the team. He can't afford to be late to any of them. Fucking Kise-kun, he thinks. He's more trouble than he's worth.

*

For the first time in his life, Kise Ryouta can say that he’s had bags under his eyes. He spent all of last night tossing and turning, occasionally sitting up to replay what he had said to Kasamatsu Senpai in his head. Eventually he had been able to reassure himself that he had only told Senpai the truth before falling into a fitful sleep. It was only when he was staring at his eyebags in distress while brushing his teeth that he decided to apologize to Kasamatsu Senpai at practice today.

He realizes that before he can do any apologizing, he has to make it through another day of Kasamatsu Senpai’s classes. He’s never tried that hard at school, but he has never stared at a textbook without being able to figure out what he was supposed to do. Sighing, he turns to the newest chapter in physics and prays for divine intervention.

“Hey, Kasamatsu,” Moriyama Senpai says, sitting down on his desk, “some practice that was yesterday.”

Ryouta stands up and does his best imitation of Kasamatsu Senpai’s frown. “What are you doing here, Moriyama?”

“Just dropping off a message for Hanejima Sensei, don’t worry your grouchy ass.”

Ryouta would like nothing more than to say, “You think he’s a grouchy ass senpai too, don’t you!” but says nothing, humming vaguely instead. “Well, I’ll see you later at practice then.”

“See you later at practice,” Moriyama Senpai agrees, and turns to a few girls sitting in the desk behind Kasamatsu Senpai’s. “Good morning, ladies.” He actually bows, and Ryouta is so embarrassed for him. “Your faces are as fresh and radiant as the morning dew on a lilac leaf.”

Ryouta rolls his eyes. “Um, morning,” one of them answers, clearly as unimpressed as he is, before they all turn to Ryouta. “Good morning, Kasamatsu-kun.”

Ryouta isn’t sure how Kasamatsu Senpai would address them, so he just smiles a little and nods. “Morning.”

They all look taken aback. Ryouta blinks. Did he say something wrong? Does Kasamatsu Senpai usually scowl and call them "stupid," like he does when Ryouta calls his name in the school courtyard?

He doesn’t get long to wonder what he did to incite that sort of reaction when one of the girls asks, “Did you finish the math homework, Kasamatsu-kun?”

Ryouta thinks back to last night when he opened the math text and promptly closed it. “Oh, it was more difficult than I expected,” he says smilingly.

There’s laughter as she replies. “You’re surprisingly modest about it.”

“Sorry, what?” Ryouta isn’t sure if that was supposed to be an insult to Senpai’s character or not.

"Well, if the fifteenth in our class thought it was hard, then the rest of us are doomed!"

It's news to Ryouta that Kasamatsu Senpai is fifteenth in his class. Then again, he's not too surprised. Sticks in the mud who don't focus on anything but basketball and school work would be ranked that high. Ryouta supposes he should be impressed, though. The only other people he knows who maintained those kinds of grades while playing basketball were Akashicchi and Midorimacchi.

He easily plays off the accomplishment and is about to sit down for class when one of the girls--Erika?--drops her book on the floor. She looks up at Ryouta expectantly and he realizes that he’s supposed to pick it up for her. Doing his best to stay pleasant, Ryouta bends over to pick up the textbook. He hears a round of giggling and wonders if something embarrassing happened, like a mysterious hole appearing in the seat of his pants. It takes him a moment to realize that they’re watching him, or to be more accurate, they’re watching Kasamatsu Senpai. They're checking out his ass. Ryouta almost yelps in indignation--on behalf of Kasamatsu Senpai, of course.

He does his best to look aloof as he hands the book back to Erika and sits down. Belatedly, he realizes that he did the same thing on Wednesday morning, and he has to admit that the girls have good taste, if nothing else. But still, that's different. He's not sure how it's different, but it is.

And if he's bothered by the incident, well, it's only because he's surprised that, as grumpy as Kasamatsu Senpai is, he still has admirers. That's all.

*

As if the day was destined to go bad from the start, his plan to apologize to Kasamatsu Senpai during practice is derailed when he walks into a full-blown argument on the court.

“Well, since the captain is here, why don’t we ask him?” he hears someone say, before he's surrounded by a group of players all clamoring for his attention.

He can't understand what anyone's saying, but after he yells for quiet and looks around, he spots Kasamatsu Senpai. He's practicing his shooting nearby, pretending to ignore the argument, but Ryouta sees how often he turns his head towards Ryouta's corner of the gym. "Oi, Kise!" he calls. "Come over here."

Kasamatsu Senpai runs over. "Yes, senpai?"

"Did you happen to hear what this argument was about?" The clamoring starts up, and he has to yell for quiet again. "I want to hear an unbiased version of what happened. Kise?"

"Um, well." Kasamatsu Senpai looks confused that Ryouta is asking him. "I didn't hear everything, but it seems like there are some people who are unhappy about not making it to the first string. They feel like they deserve it more than others."

Ryouta didn’t even know that the first string players were going to be announced today. He remembers this from his time at Teikou all too well: the constant competition and fighting to be the starting five. But he hasn’t so much as even considered that there are players at Kaijou who had to work their way up the ranks like he did at Teikou. He's their ace; it's enough that he wins them games.

Turning to his teammates he asks, “Is this true?”

There’s uncomfortable shuffling before someone finally speaks up. “We’re just wondering how you decided who gets to be on first string.” Ryouta has no idea what his name is. “How come Takenouchi made it and I didn't? I've practiced harder than him, and I'm better, too."

He hears an offended “Maybe you would have gotten on first string if you could make a free throw every once in a while” from behind him, and everyone starts arguing again. Criticism, boasts, and even insults are hurled around while he struggles to find the right thing to say.

Ryouta can’t help but wonder how Kasamatsu Senpai does this every day. Not only does he have a charmingly brusque way with words, he also isn’t afraid to kick any member on the team. Ryouta is pretty sure that he would have remembered Kasamatsu Senpai kicking an entire string of players across the gym, if only because it would have been hilarious. If Kasamatsu Senpai can handle the team without resorting to kicking them, then why can’t he? He's good at people.

After a considerable amount of yelling, he’s able to quiet down the crowd. Facing the first player who complained, he says calmly, “Maybe you should think about what you really did during practice, and you’ll see why you didn’t make the cut.”

He never knew that twenty pairs of eyes staring at him could feel so unwelcome. Ryouta can see Kasamatsu Senpai dragging a hand down his face. Clearly not the right way to go. When the staring doesn’t stop, he feels panic rise inside him at the realization that he doesn’t know what he’s doing at all. He wills himself not to look in Kasamatsu Senpai’s direction anymore. He doesn’t expect that he would be willing to dole out a helpful word of advice, which is why he's surprised when he hears him saying, "Mashima-kun, I think what the captain's trying to say is that you did practice hard, probably as hard as everyone else on this team.”

Kasamatsu Senpai gives him a pointed look, and Ryouta nods, not saying anything.

“Everyone who made it to the first string this year worked hard as well, and many of them are seniors who were on it last year. You're still a first year."

Everybody's looking at Senpai, and Ryouta realizes how strange it must be for them to hear those words coming from Ryouta's mouth, when he's hardly shown any respect to his seniors. The thought seems to occur to Senpai as well, because he quickly adds, “I mean, that’s what I overheard the captain saying.”

He remembers now, what Kasamatsu Senpai told him the day they met. "Kise's right," he tells the team. "I'm telling you to have respect for the hard work and experience those seniors have put in. It doesn't matter how talented you might be. You still have two more years, Mashima--you'll make it to the first string in time."

Without even thinking about it, Ryouta looks over at Kasamatsu Senpai, waiting for a sign that he said the right thing. When the corner of Senpai’s mouth quirks up, he has to hide his smile behind his hand before telling everyone to get back to practice. The crowd thins out as everyone goes back to run drills, but Ryouta lingers for a little bit longer. He expects Kasamatsu Senpai to say something to him (“Looks like you aren’t completely hopeless, freshman”) but he doesn’t. Instead he just looks at Ryouta for a long moment, then turns around and goes back to his own drills.

*

friday

Kise’s phone rings at least fifteen times during the day, reminding Yukio that he most definitely has a photoshoot that Kise did not deign to cancel. Sighing, he pulls out the battery, refusing to let himself feel guilty. He's about to head to third period music class when he thinks better of it and decides to get this photoshoot over with. After all, it’s just posing for a few pictures. How difficult could it really be?

It’s two hours later that Yukio regrets ever getting on that bus to go downtown. As soon as he walked into the studio he was not only scolded for being on time, but also pushed into a chair, where the stylist tsked at his hair, asking him whether he’s been using the conditioner that he’s been instructed to, before she whipped the chair around and practically shrieked at his pores.

“You haven’t been using the skin cream I gave you, have you?” she accuses, and Yukio thinks back to the cabinet full of jars and bottles with a fresh wave of guilt.

“N-No? I’m--uh, sorry,” he says, apologizing until she slabs on lotion and tells him to close his eyes as she does his makeup. He would put his foot down when she tells him to open up for the insertion of fangs--fangs, you have got to be joking--but she doesn’t seem like the type of person who will entertain his whining, not even if he’s Kise Ryouta.

When he’s silent for a time, Kise’s stylist tries to make small talk. "Are you tired today, Kise-kun? You're usually much more talkative."

"Oh, um." What would Kise talk about? "Yeah, I am. School and basketball have been pretty busy."

"Is it your captain? Is he being tough on you again?"

Yukio does his best not to frown at that. Instead, he makes a distressed sort of expression that he’s almost positive that Kise would make. “Yeah, he’s been running the team into the ground lately.” Yukio doesn’t even have to lie about that part.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. But, you know, your captain's probably just worried about the tournament you have coming up."

Or he could be stuck in the wrong person’s body, he thinks darkly. Yukio nods, making a vague humming noise.

“You could sound a little less skeptical,” she says laughingly while brushing his hair. “It seems like this captain of yours is just trying to push you to be a better player.”

Finally, someone who understands him. If Kise’s stylist has been giving him such great advice, why hasn’t the brat been listening to any of it? He has to stop himself from nodding as she keeps talking about why he shouldn’t be so hard on Yukio.

Then she says, “I think he likes you," as she finishes slicking back his hair, and he twists around to look at her.

"What?"

She slaps his shoulder. "Stay still, Kise-kun! Are you trying to mess up all my hard work?"

Yukio turns back around, although he still fidgets. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just...I don't think he likes me. It's not like that at all!"

"Well, maybe it's not a romantic like," she says.

Yukio breathes a sigh of relief. No, of course not. Kise should consider himself lucky to have such a reliable voice of reason in his life.

"But he does pay an awful lot of attention to you, from what you tell me, and he wouldn't bother if there wasn't some affection there. And, who knows? Maybe it could develop into something more!" She giggles.

He takes it back. There is no voice of reason in Kise's life at all. That must be why he's so ridiculous.

"There, all done," the stylist says, and Yukio turns toward the mirror to see what horrible get up he has to pose in. He swallows when he realizes that he doesn’t look terrible at all. If anything, Kise looks like he just stepped off of a runway and not like some caricature of Dracula from a horror manga. His hair is combed back for once, leaving no illusion that he doesn’t look every bit the part of a worldly and elegant vampire businessman. His lips are blood red against his pale skin, and his eyes are lined with smoky eyeshadow.

“Something wrong?” His attention is brought back to the studio, and he sees the stylist is giving him an expectant look.

“No, everything’s fine,” he answers, smiling weakly. She doesn’t look convinced but ushers him off to the set anyway.

When he arrives on set and sees a woman wearing a red dress, made up similarly to him, he almost turns around and runs out of the studio. Nobody told him that he would have to pose with someone else. He swears to himself that he is going to murder Kise before the end of 7th period today. Thinking about it helps him smile as he greets the other model.

“Hi,” he says, grabbing her hands as she holds them out to him. He isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do next. What would Kise do next?

He's saved from saying something else when the model smiles at him and says, "Kise-kun, it's been too long. What have you been up to?"

Then again, maybe that makes things worse. This person knows Kise; what if she can tell that something's off? He tries to think of something safe to talk about. "Um, not much. Just school and basketball."

"Basketball I can believe," she says, laughing. "School, not so much."

Yukio pretends to be offended, even wailing something about the model being “so mean to me all the time.” It sounds a little too much like Kise and Yukio has to suppress a shudder.

The conversation is going smoothly and Yukio thinks that he just might be able to do this, when the photographer comes up to them on the set and starts giving directions. He listens intently and nods in the right places.

“Now, I know that this isn't quite your style, but I want Kise-kun to look like you can't wait to ravish Ayase-san."

“What?” he blurts out. Both the model and photographer stare at him. Yukio stares back at them. “I’m...I was just asking for some clarification,” he explains. And it’s not really a lie. Setting aside the horror that this photographer unironically said ravish, Yukio has no idea what he means by “not quite his style.”

Ayase-san rolls her eyes. "I know you don't bat for this team, Kise-kun, but surely you can pretend to be interested in me." She loops her arm through his and presses against him. Yukio feels sweat break out on the back of his neck and fights the urge to lean away. "Come on, just pretend that I'm that captain of yours. I saw that article on him in Basketball Monthly--he's really handsome."

Yukio chokes and gives a feeble laugh. "Who, him? He's too, um...wrinkly."

Ayase-san shrugs. "Well, whatever. Let's just try to get through this shoot, okay?"

Over the next hour, Yukio gains a new appreciation for Kise's ability to look completely serious in his photoshoots even with a photographer yelling “Like you’re on fire!” at him every two or so minutes. He has to somehow resist strangling everyone in this studio and maintain a “dark and broody look,” even when the only thing he feels like is "terrified," especially when Ayase-san is breathing into his ear. It’s just a photoshoot, it’s just a photoshoot, it’s just a photoshoot, he repeats to himself over and over.

"Just bear with it," Ayase-san practically whispers into his ear. "We only have a couple more shots. And you know I'd rather not do this, either."

If he weren’t wearing three layers of makeup and a suit worth 70,000 yen, Yukio would slap his forehead. Is she saying that she's not interested in Kise? Somehow, that makes Yukio feel a little better, and he manages to look "smoldering and seductive" instead of "murderous" until the end of the photoshoot.

He almost wants to skip the rest of school, but even though he's in Kise's body, he's still his captain and his senpai. He has a responsibility towards him, so he lets the stylist scrub the makeup off, then changes back into the Kaijou uniform and gets on the bus. Leaning his head back on the seat, he sighs. He even has basketball practice after school today, too. He supposes he has to give Kise some credit. The brat has a lot of energy, if nothing else.

*

Ryouta may have been in basketball for a good three years now, but never once has he thought about what a captain actually has to do. It turns out that even on a good day, Kasamatsu Senpai has more on his plate than he imagined. Not only does he have to practice himself, he has to lead scrimmages, run through plays, and worst of it all, he has to talk to the coach while doing all of it.

He looks over at Kasamatsu Senpai, who seems to be talking seriously to Hayakawa Senpai about one of their plays, and thinks about going over to ask if he went to the photoshoot with Ayase-san today. What happens instead is that he’s pulled into another set of drills and Kasamatsu Senpai starts practicing free throws with Kobori Senpai.

When practice is finally over, he calls out to Senpai across the court, “Kise!” and beckons him over. He doesn’t frown like he usually does and runs across the gym to where Ryouta stands. Kasamatsu Senpai says nothing, which he guesses means that he’s still mad him.

“Did you, um, go to the photoshoot?” he asks, trying his best to sound casual.

Senpai nods and quickly gives him a summary of the day’s events. “You didn’t tell me that I had to pose with another person.”

“Oh, I guess I didn’t. I’m sorry.” He wipes away the sweat at his temple and shrugs. “Anyway, I didn't think Senpai would mind. Ayase-san's really beautiful.”

The familiar frown makes its appearance on Kasamatsu Senpai's face, but Ryouta's too tired to even complain about wrinkling. "Why would that matter to me?"

Ryouta knows that Kasamatsu Senpai isn’t like Moriyama Senpai, but he really doesn’t have to pretend to be so above the idea of being interested in girls. “I guess I don’t really know that many guys who would complain about getting to be in a romantic photoshoot with Ayase-san,” he says.

The irritated retort he expects never comes, and neither does a telltale sign that Kasamatsu Senpai will yell at him about being immature. He just looks away and says, “Yeah, I guess not.”

Ryouta blinks.

Before he can ask him what he means, Ryouta hears the coach calling for him. He looks at Kasamatsu Senpai, who whispers under his breath, “Just pretend you know what you’re doing and say ‘Yes, sir!’ a lot.”

He doesn’t talk to their coach that often, but every time he does, he can’t shake the image of a villain on an after school kid’s special. He has to try not to laugh while the coach talks to him about the argument over first string assignments, and the general fitness of the team as they approach Interhigh. Nodding, he says, "Yes, sir," whenever the coach says something or asks him a question, and when the coach prods him for an opinion, he tries to be as vague as possible.

“It seems like you and Kise have been getting along better lately.”

Ryouta freezes, unsure if this means he’s noticed that their playing has been drastically different. When the coach says nothing, he nods a little and says, “I suppose we have been.”

“That’s good.” The coach doesn’t drop the subject like he was hoping he would. “I know that you were worried about your compatibility, but it seems like you’re making good progress on making him a part of the team.”

He’s grateful that the coach doesn’t ask him anything else before clapping him on the shoulder. “Good work, Kasamatsu.”

“Thank you,” he says, feeling his stomach turn over.

Kasamatsu Senpai is waiting for him outside the school gates. "How did it go?" he asks.

"Fine," Ryouta says. He doesn't look Senpai in the eyes. "He just asked how everything was going, and I told him it was okay."

"Okay, good.” Senpai sounds relieved. “Anything else?”

Ryouta thinks about telling him, wants to ask whether what the coach said to him about Senpai worrying about him is true. He can feel Kasamatsu Senpai getting impatient, so he just says, "Nothing else."

"All right. Well, I was thinking that we could go over to my house--I mean, your house--today, to try to figure stuff out. Sound good?"

"Ah, yeah," Ryouta says. "We could do homework too. I don't actually understand any of your classes."

He thinks he sees Kasamatsu Senpai paling a little at that. Holding out his hands he tries to reassure him. “Don’t worry! I didn’t actually do any of it. I asked Yamazaki to help. Now I just owe him twenty signed photographs of me from my Armani photoshoot."

It speaks a lot to their relationship that Kasamatsu Senpai doesn’t even blink an eye at that. He just gives a long-suffering sigh and drags a hand down his face before saying, “Let’s go.”

He starts walking away, but Ryouta stays rooted to the spot. He still feels like he has to say something, so he calls out, "Senpai, wait."

Senpai turns around. "What is it now, freshman? Worried about your mom seeing my wrinkly face?" Ryouta starts to protest, before Kasamatsu Senpai smiles. The words die on his lips. It's so rare to see Senpai smile, and the expression soothes some of his nervousness that Senpai is still mad at him for what he said yesterday.

"No, I'm just...I wanted to say sorry. About what I said yesterday."

"...oh."

He waits for Kasamatsu Senpai to say something else, but he remains silent. Ryouta isn’t sure if that means he should keep talking or keep waiting for him to respond. Maybe he read that smile wrong and Kasamatsu Senpai is still mad at him?

“I didn’t realize how hard it is to be the captain.” Before he loses his nerve he looks up and says, “You’re actually really good at it. A lot better than I could ever be.”

He's about to say "Let's pretend I didn't say anything" when Kasamatsu Senpai speaks. "Wow. I didn't even know you could apologize."

Ryouta’s hesitance flies out the window, and he protests loudly. “What? I apologize all the time!” He thinks back on practices, on team meetings, and even accidental run-ins during school hours. Ryouta definitely apologizes a lot.

“Those aren’t even real apologies,” Kasamatsu Senpai says, and he flicks his forehead.

“What was that for?” Ryouta asks, rubbing his forehead.

He shrugs. “What do you know? Revenge is pretty satisfying.”

Ryouta frowns. Since this is Kasamatsu Senpai's face, he doesn't need to worry about wrinkling it. "I get it, I get it. I'm sorry about kicking you. But what do you mean 'those aren't real apologies'? I even bowed and everything!"

This time, Senpai kicks his shin. "It wouldn't matter if you got on your knees! You still didn't mean them!"

Ryouta's forced to admit that he has a point. He's never felt particularly repentant about anything until now. He looks down at his feet and mutters, "Well, I meant that one."

"I know. That's why I was surprised." Kasamatsu Senpai sighs. "I accept your apology, freshman. I know you weren't really thinking when you said it."

"Really?" He didn't expect apologizing to be this easy, when everything else about Kasamatsu Senpai is always so difficult.

"Do I look like I'm screwing around with you? Yes, really. I might be bad-tempered and harsh--" Ryouta winces. "--but I know my teammates well. It's my job. Now come on. Your mom's been texting me all day. Apparently she made you onion gratin soup tonight. I can't believe that's your favorite food."

Ryouta can feel his mouth start to water just thinking about it. "You don't understand, Senpai. It's delicious.

He shakes his head, more amused than exasperated, and starts walking. If Ryouta wonders what it would be like to walk home with Kasamatsu Senpai like this every day, then it’s just an idle question born from curiosity.

*

Yukio barely has his shoes off when Kise is already taking off his jacket, impatient to get inside. Rolling his eyes, he leads them into the kitchen. They make it about two steps before Kise says, “Kaa-chan!” too loudly to be mistaken as anything else.

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to kick Kise to correct him. After a beat he says, “I mean, Kise-san,” and laughs nervously. It’s only by some weird miracle that Kise’s mother doesn’t say anything else before asking them how their days went.

“It was fine,” he says, and gives an exaggerated inhale. “That smells really good.” Of course Kise’s favorite food is onion gratin soup. Yukio can’t stand onions. “Oh yeah, Kaa-chan, this is Kasamatsu Senpai.” He gestures at Kise.

"Ooh, is that the senpai that you're always talking about?"

Yukio’s expression goes slack with surprise. “Oh, um, yes? Yes.” He laughs and pretends to be embarrassed for himself. “I don’t talk about him that much!”

Kise’s mother pays him no mind. “You didn’t mention that he was so handsome, Ryou-chan.”

He looks over at Kise and sees him turning red. Hopefully, Kise’s mother thinks that it’s charming. From the way it looks, Yukio is starting to think that Kise could call the sky green and grass blue and still be called charming. Well, as long as he's stuck in this situation, he might as well have some fun. He deserves it.

"Oh, Kaa-chan," he says, imitating Kise's whiny voice. He's heard it often enough at practice, and he thinks he does an admirable job. "You're embarrassing me!"

Kise makes a choking noise, which his mother once again fails to notice.

“If I knew how handsome he was I would have told you to bring him over sooner!” Then she actually winks at Kise. “You’re welcome here any time, Kasamatsu-kun.”

"Thank...you," Kise croaks. He looks like he wants to disappear.

Kise's mother beams. "Oh, he's embarrassed! How cute. He's so adorable, Ryou-chan, you really should have brought him over sooner. Sit down, sit down, both of you. I hope you like onion gratin soup."

"Never had it," Kise says. "But I'm sure that it'll be delicious." He sits down at the table, and gives Yukio a betrayed look when Yukio sits down next to him.

Yukio mouths "Revenge" at him and grins.

For some reason, Kise blushes.

The onion gratin soup is horrible. Yukio's never had it before, so he doesn't know how it's supposed to taste--maybe this is the best onion gratin soup ever made, and his palate just isn't refined enough. Or maybe he just really hates onions. He pretends to eat it enthusiastically, though, and pours the soup into Kise's bowl when his mother's back is turned.

Kise slurps it down happily. Apparently, when there aren't any fans around, he doesn't care about table manners. Yukio can only watch him incredulously. Does Kise ever worry about onion breath?

"You know, Senpai," he whispers when Yukio praises the delicacy of the flavor and then pours his third helping into Kise's bowl, "you're really good at acting. You should consider going into Holly--"

Yukio kicks him under the table.

"Ouch!"

Kise's mother turns around. "Is everything all right, Kasamatsu-kun?"

Yukio smiles at her. "Everything's perfectly fine, Kaa-chan. I think Kasamatsu Senpai's getting a little full, though. We're just going to go do our homework now, if that's okay."

She somehow manages to look surprised and impressed all at once. “Oh, Ryou-chan, you’re doing homework?” Yukio has to wonder what it’s like to have the ground you walk on worshipped like that. “Of course, do whatever you need to!”

He and Kise thank her for the food and make their way up to his room with his mother trilling after them: “You can close the door if you want!”

Kise pulls him into his room, then, and does just that.

*

"Stop laughing," Kise says. "We're supposed to be figuring out what caused this body switch!"

"Wow, you sounded just like me.” Yukio does stop laughing, but he can’t keep the amused smile off his face.

Kise is actually frowning at him now, but from where Yukio sits at his desk, he isn’t afraid that he might start imitating his well-aimed kicks any time soon.

“It wasn’t even funny,” he says, sounding disturbingly similar to a five year old Yukio met on a playground once.

Yukio turns in his chair. “You talk about me ‘all the time,’ huh?”

He doesn’t expect Kise to turn so red. Yukio almost feels bad for teasing him, but seeing how the flush spreads down to his neck, he can’t say that he feels bad at all.

“I just tell her what happens at school.” Kise fidgets with the hem of his pants. “And sometimes you happen at school and I talk about it. That’s all.”

“I ‘happen’ at school?” He raises a brow.

It’s the first time that Yukio has seen Kise struggling to come up with a retort, and he has to admit that it’s a little bit gratifying.

“I don’t--you know what I mean,” he finally says.

Standing up, he goes to sit at the foot the bed. “Relax, I’m just giving you a hard time.” Yukio sets all joking aside and starts thinking about what they could possibly do in this situation. “Do you have any idea what could have caused this?

Kise shakes his head, looking about as lost as he feels. “Maybe we should go over what we did before Wednesday,” he suggests.

Yukio nods and thinks back to Monday and Tuesday. He woke up, got ready for school, ate breakfast, walked to school, went to classes, kicked Kise for being late to basketball practice, and came back home to do homework. Yukio didn’t even eat anything out of the ordinary, let alone make pit stops into strange stores or find weird diaries in empty classrooms.

“I have nothing,” he says. “Everything I did was completely routine. I got up and went to school and--hey are you even listening to me?”

Kise had gotten up in the middle of his recounting and run to open a cabinet. He digs inside for a minute, before turning around with a wooden duck in hand.

“It’s...a duck.” Yukio doesn’t mean to be disparaging, but he can’t help that he’s low on stock of patience.

“No. Um, I mean, it is a duck,” Kise says. “But it’s also a lucky item that Midorimacchi gave to me on Tuesday before practice.”

"A lucky item? And who the hell is Midorimacchi?"

"Midorima Shintarou. You know, part of the Generation of Miracles. He's really obsessed with horoscopes and fortune telling, so he always has a lucky item with him. He gave this to me on Tuesday because he said that Geminis would have bad luck for this week..." He trails off when he sees Yukio's disbelieving expression. "I know it's really weird, but I have been having a lot of bad luck this week."

Apparently, the Generation of Miracles does get stranger than Kise. "How does that make any sense? The duck was supposed to stop the bad luck, but our bodies still got switched around."

"Well, maybe the duck's the cause of it! It's worth a try, right?" Kise takes out his phone, then looks up. "Oh, wait, this is your phone. Can you give me mine? I'm going to call Midorimacchi."

Yukio hands it over. It sounds ridiculous, but then again, so does "I woke up one day and found out I was in Kise's body." Kise seems to have less qualms about how little sense this situation makes, calling up this “Midorimacchi” with a smile.

“Hello? Midorimacchi?” he says. “I'm not going to make you come to another photoshoot, so don't hang up. I have to ask you something important.”

There’s a long pause as Kise listens to whatever Midorima Shintarou is telling him. “This is Kise, of course.” More pausing. “No I’m not sick and I’m not pranking you. That wouldn’t even be funny! Wow, Midorimacchi, you still haven’t found a sense of humor. Okay, fine, here's proof: remember in second year when you started an illegal lucky pencil business? Or that time in third year when you told me to practice blowjobs on popsicle sticks, and you got hard in front of Aominecchi and Kurokocchi? Or--"

Yukio’s jaw drops a little at that latter anecdote. Just what sort of basketball team was this? He doesn’t let himself think about Kise sucking on a popsicle longer than he has to, bringing his attention back to the conversation at hand.

“Okay, okay! No, I haven’t told anyone! Well, if you just let me talk, I'd be able to explain to you.” Kise rubs his temple, looking exasperated. “Yes, I swear in the name of Kerosuke.” He looks at Yukio and makes a thumbs up. “You know that I would never laugh at Kerosuke, Midorimacchi,” Kise says sincerely.

He really hopes that all of the Generation of Miracles will perform one last miracle and transfer to schools outside of Japan before he has to meet them at Interhigh.

“My body got switched with my captain’s on Wednesday,” he says. “I’m like 99% sure it’s because you gave me a lucky item on Tuesday and said something about ‘bad luck for Geminis nodayo.’ Haha, that was almost Perfect Copy.” Only Kise would find the capacity to joke in this situation.

“Yeah, check again. No, I’m not questioning your dedication to detail or Oha Asa.” Kise rolls his eyes. “Midorimacchi, please.”

The familiar ease with which Kise navigates this conversation speaks to a career on a team that no one else Yukio knows has experienced. It makes him wonder if being a Miracle is what it takes for Kise to have that at Kaijou. It stings for a moment, before he hears Kise squawking, "Are you serious? You're always making a big deal out of accuracy and you couldn't get something like that right? What do you mean, you didn't think it would matter? You wouldn't play once because you said that you couldn’t find the right shade of fuchsia in the umbrella store!

“Are you telling me that I have to fix this myself? I would have been fine if it wasn’t for the wooden duck!” Kise looks as close to livid as Yukio has ever seen him. “Give me the address. No, I’m not mad, I’m just going to donate Kerosuke to a nursery with especially violent children.” He looks particularly cheerful about the prospect.

Despite the situation, Yukio smiles. He's seen Kise be a brat, but never angry. It's refreshing to see this side of him. Kise hangs up and glares at the phone like Midorima’s face has been imprinted onto the screen.

“Um, what’s wrong?” Yukio asks.

Pushing the phone back into his hand, Kise explains. “He gave me a wooden duck when Oha Asa told him that Geminis should carry around a plastic duck. Can you believe that guy?”

Not really, but Yukio isn’t going to tell Kise that they don’t mean the same thing when they say they can’t believe Midorima Shintarou. “So what’s happening?”

“Midorimacchi said we should go to the vendor ourselves and figure it out from there.”

"How far away is the vendor?"

“It’s in Yokohama," Kise says, still exasperated. "Honestly, he goes all the way there to buy a lucky item and he can't even get the right one? When we play against him in the Interhigh I'm going to illegally elbow him in the nose. Let's see his lucky item stop that."

Yukio snorts. "I suggest you not do that. What are we going to do if our ace gets kicked off the court?"

Kise's expression relaxes into something calmer. "Are you telling me that the senpais' hard work and experience aren't enough to win a game?"

"Don't get smart with me." Yukio hits him on the back of the head. He does it more gently than usual, though. “I was just saying that we need Kaijou’s Kise.”

When Kise doesn’t respond, he’s positive that he’s said the wrong thing. Instead of letting himself get embarrassed, Yukio reroutes. “Anyway, are we going to this vendor in Yokohama tomorrow?”

"It doesn't look like we have any choice. It's a good thing tomorrow's Saturday, so we don’t even have to miss practice.”

“Then let’s meet outside the station tomorrow at eleven,” he says.

Kise nods, and they agree to trade homework after practice for as long as this situation lasts. For today, they do their homework in Kise's room in companionable silence. It’s hardly surprising that Kise falls asleep within half an hour. Instead of waking him up, Yukio pulls the blanket over him and lets him sleep a little bit more. There’s always time for homework later.

*

saturday

Ryouta tries his best not to be late, and ends up showing up earlier than Kasamatsu Senpai does. It’s the first time that he’s seen him outside of a school day, and he can’t help but feel a little bit excited.

“Did you wait long?” he asks, walking them to the ticket booth.

“No, I just got here,” Ryouta lies. He pays the clerk for a ticket to Yokohama and gets on the train to find their seats.

They sit in silence as the overhead speaker announces their destination and asks that they keep hands and feet to themselves. That's a lot easier said than done, he finds himself thinking, and is horrified for a moment. This whole body switch must be doing something to his head. That's really the only explanation as to why he kept blushing yesterday, especially when all Kasamatsu Senpai did was get a good laugh out of his misery.

Still, he can't stop thinking about the way he mouthed "Revenge" at Ryouta or the way his lips curved into a self-satisfied grin thereafter. It makes him swallow trying to imagine what it would feel like to have Kasamatsu Senpai's lips against his.

"--se, Kise!"

Ryouta snaps back to attention. "Y-Yeah?"

“I asked, what’s the address to this lucky item place?”

"Oh, um, it's..." Ryouta takes out his phone and finds the address that Midorima texted him. He reads it to Kasamatsu Senpai.

"Okay. I'm going to take a nap, so wake me up when we get to our stop." Kasamatsu Senpai slumps down in his seat, yawning.

"Long night?" Ryouta asks. He would tease Senpai about a secret girlfriend, but he still has his phone, and he hasn't found any evidence of a girlfriend or even a crush. He's only looking so he can have something to tease Senpai with, of course, and it's been annoying him that he has yet to discover anything.

"Sort of," Kasamatsu Senpai says. "Your mom wanted me to watch a new drama with her. It's about lawyers or something, but courts don't even work that way in real life. My parents would have a field day with it."

"Your parents work with the courts?" Ryouta asks. He's had to talk to Senpai's parents for the past two days, of course, but it's usually been over the dinner table, and they didn't bring up their work. They did talk about current events and politics a lot, he reflects, and they often looked at him for some contribution. Ryouta winces at the memory.

"Yeah. They're lawyers."

"Oh, so Senpai comes from a smart family, huh?"

Kasamatsu Senpai just rolls his eyes.

Ryouta realizes that he doesn't know a lot about Kasamatsu Senpai aside from basketball. If nothing else, this whole fiasco means that they're getting to know each other better. He can't complain. "Aren't you going to ask me what my parents do?" he asks, pouting.

"Ugh, don't make that expression while you're in my body. And I already know what your parents do."

"What, really?" Ryouta exclaims. Could Kasamatsu Senpai have been more observant than him? Or did he already know?

"Your mom was working on an article, so I asked her. And your dad wanted to show me the new designs he's working on for the winter line."

"Oh! I wish I could have seen. I always like seeing what new styles he's come up with. Did they look good?"

Kasamatsu Senpai shrugs. "I guess? I don't know anything about fashion."

Ryouta crosses his arms, huffing. "You don't have to be an expert to tell if clothes are nice." He studies the clothes Kasamatsu Senpai is wearing. It looks suspiciously like he just pulled out the closest shirt and pants and threw them on. Ryouta sighs. He needs to get his body back before Senpai permanently ruins his reputation.

He's busy wondering whether he can ask Senpai to check his hair to make sure there aren't any split ends when he asks, "Did you get into modeling because of your dad?"

"Hmm? Oh. I guess so. I used to wear the stuff he designed for kids so he could get a good idea of what it would look like. Then I started doing photoshoots for catalogues, and it grew from there. Why?"

Kasamatsu Senpai closes his eyes, sinking down further in his seat. "Nothing. I was just wondering what made you start modeling. Didn't seem like you'd just do it because you're a vain brat."

"Hey!"

He smiles. "Don't get all offended. I don't think you're just a vain brat."

Ryouta pouts, even though Kasamatsu Senpai can't see it. "You're mean," he says in a quiet voice. Kasamatsu Senpai doesn't reply, his breath evening out until he's fast asleep. Ryouta watches him, and resolutely does not think about kissing.

*

It turns out that going to the vendor doesn’t really help their situation at all. He’s about as helpful as the lucky item itself, and doubly difficult to understand.

“Did you sell this to a tall, green-haired lose--man recently?” Ryouta asks, when they finally get the shopkeeper’s attention. The old man--on the wrong side of sixty, Ryouta thinks to himself--looks at the duck and nods sagely.

“Ah yes, I remember the green-haired youth. He was a temperamental one,” he says, and examines the duck.

Feeling hopeful, Ryouta presses further. “This might sound, err...really weird.” Looking at the old man, dressed in a zebra-patterned smock and sporting a topknot, Ryouta suddenly thinks he doesn’t really need to worry about the weird factor. “But does this duck have any magical properties?”

The old man takes off his rhinestone sunglasses. He squints at Ryouta suspiciously. “Magical properties?”

He’s watched a total of ten spy movies in his life and knows the drill by now. “You know, like the kind that, say...switches bodies around?” Holding his breath, Ryouta waits for the suspicious frown on the old man’s face to dissipate.

Ryouta had told Kasamatsu Senpai to stay back, partially because “I know how to deal with this, Senpai,” but also because he was afraid that he might lose his temper at any moment. Images of Kasamatsu Senpai getting hauled off to the Yokohama Police Station in Ryouta’s body for battery of elderly persons flashed before his eyes. It seems that he had great foresight: Kasamatsu Senpai looks ready to kick someone very hard in the shins.

“It’s a completely hypothetical line of questioning, of course,” he adds casually, and the shopkeeper’s expression brightens.

“Ah yes, well, this duck has been known to pull some mischief every now and then,” the old man says. Ryouta is finding it harder and harder to believe what this old man is saying, but listens anyway. “If anyone finds themselves in a tough spot, they need to look deep within themselves.”

Ryouta leans forward, eager for the rest of his counsel, but it appears that the old man has nothing left to say. “Um, look deep within my--themselves for what?” he asks.

The shopkeeper rolls his eyes, like he’s somehow stating obvious facts. “For peace, of course.”

He can’t even pretend to be polite, his face falling into an expression of disbelief. Ryouta’s about to ask for clarification when he hears Kasamatsu Senpai suddenly burst out with “Peace?!” Jumping, he turns to Senpai, preparing himself to hold him back if need be.

“Senpai--”

“WHAT PEACE,” Kasamatsu Senpai shouts. “I’M VERY PEACEFUL.”

Ryouta groans, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’M FULL OF PEACE,” he goes on, snatching the duck from the shopkeeper’s grip. “I BLEED PEACE, OLD MAN.”

Before Senpai can finish his diatribe about how his pores excrete all the peace in this world, Ryouta pulls the duck out of his hand, doing his best to calm him down. He laughs and smiles at the shopkeeper. “My friend just...really likes peace and justice, and I think he got a little excited. He’s the guy who stood in line for 5 hours to go watch the Kamen Rider movies, haha!”

The shopkeeper doesn’t look fazed in the least, rhinestone sunglasses back in place. “I hope you boys find what you’re looking for.”

Giving a quick “Thank you,” Ryouta manages to pull Kasamatsu Senpai out of the shop without a hitch.

“If I ever see your freaky green friend, I’m going to punch him in the nose,” he threatens.

“Yes, yes, I know,” Ryouta says soothingly, and pats his arm as reassuringly as he can. “Look, since we’re already in Yokohama, why not eat something before going back?”

Kasamatsu Senpai seems to consider this, and finally relaxes, the worst of his temper behind him. He sighs. “Yeah, okay, that sounds like a good idea.”

It’s almost easy to forget what they originally came to Yokohama for, especially when he's laughing at Kasamatsu Senpai, who walks by every Italian restaurant and mutters, “I can’t do it” low under his breath.

"Don't you want to be adventurous and try Western food?" he asks.

"I tried it once in middle school," Kasamatsu Senpai says. "I had terrible food poisoning for days and missed an important game."

Ryouta has the good sense not to say anything, giving a sympathetic hum instead. “Well, hopefully you didn’t miss any basketball games because of manju.” He points to a nearby kiosk selling a wide array of them.

Senpai nods and says, as casually as anything, “Loser has to buy,” before he starts making a run for the vendor. Ryouta is left gaping for a moment until his reflexes catch up to him and he follows close on his heels.

“So this is what it feels like to be a Miracle, huh,” Kasamatsu Senpai says, watching as Ryouta pays up for his order. He rolls his eyes, about to ask if he really thinks this is the proper application of his athletic abilities, and maybe protest that if Senpai knew what fair play was, he would be the one paying for Ryouta’s orange cream manju. Then Kasamatsu Senpai pushes yen into his hands and smiles at him. “Thanks anyway, freshman.”

Ryouta can't stop smiling at Kasamatsu Senpai's back as they walk along, trying to find a restaurant to eat at. They finally settle on a dim sum restaurant in Chinatown, and judging by the way Kasamatsu Senpai digs in, it meets his standards. Ryouta used to think he was picky about food, until he saw Senpai reject every food not originating from this side of the Pacific Ocean.

The thought occurs to him again, that he might be able to get used to this: the easy way time passes when he’s with Kasamatsu Senpai, like there isn’t a rush to be anyplace else.

"Here, try this," Kasamatsu Senpai says, putting a dumpling on Ryouta's plate. "It's really good."

Ryouta pops the dumpling in his mouth. "You're right, this is delicious."

"Oi, don't talk with your mouth full, freshman!"

They bicker about table manners, gossip about the love lives of their teammates (well, Ryouta does; Kasamatsu Senpai just rolls his eyes), and talk about the progress of their favorite basketball teams as they finish eating. There's a comfortable silence when they walk back to the station, broken when Ryouta feels his fingers tangle with Kasamatsu Senpai’s by accident. He pulls away on reflex, apologizing quickly. Just because he hasn’t been able to find evidence of a girlfriend or beautiful celebrities on Senpai’s phone doesn’t mean that he would want to walk down a train station in Yokohama holding Ryouta’s hand.

Then he realizes that he’s staring at his own hand. Because he and Senpai are in the wrong bodies and their only lead in Yokohama was able to tell them nothing useful.

"Senpai," he says. "What if we're stuck like this forever?"

He expects Kasamatsu Senpai to tell him not to be stupid, but he just sighs. "If worse comes to worst, we'll figure it out. But it's only been two days, so don't worry, okay?" He doesn't look at Ryouta as he says it, though.

Despite the fun he had, Ryouta's worry returns, stronger than it had been when he woke up on Thursday morning and found himself still in Kasamatsu Senpai's body. He thought that, if Kasamatsu Senpai was here, he would have things figured out. That, or he would yell and kick things until everything was back to the way it should be. But Kasamatsu Senpai seems as unsure as Ryouta; it makes Ryouta feel helpless, and the tears spring to his eyes before he can stop them.

"Oi, Kise." Kasamatsu Senpai stops walking and faces him. He pulls Ryouta closer, until Ryouta's forehead is resting against his shoulder. Ryouta gives in and starts crying in earnest as Kasamatsu Senpai strokes his hair. "It's going to be all right. Have some faith in your captain, okay?"

"But the lucky item vendor--"

"Is a useless geriatric. He probably didn't know what he was talking about, anyway." He sighs again when Ryouta doesn't stop crying. "Look, why don't I go back with you tonight? We can talk more and then get a good night's sleep. Maybe tomorrow we'll figure things out."

Ryouta isn't optimistic, but Kasamatsu Senpai's words and touch calm him down. "Okay," he says, sniffing. "Okay..."

In the end, he cries for five more minutes before Kasamatsu Senpai grabs his hand and takes him onto the train heading home.

*

Yukio is more than grateful that his parents don’t seem to have the same preoccupation with embarrassing him as Kise’s parents. If anything, it’s a little underwhelming how nonplussed they are about the situation, telling them not to sleep too late. Yukio makes sure to thank them for letting him stay over, before Kise is pulling him upstairs to his room.

He understands that Kise is impatient to figure out what they’re going to do, but Yukio has been doing research, and it definitely doesn’t seem like there are sources out there teeming with knowledge on how to get their rightful bodies back. His illustrious “research” has actually consisted of reading web pages about American dramedies, psychological horror manga, and weird satanic rituals--none of which he is going to resort to in the hopes of getting his own body back. He’s about to tell Kise that, when he hears him wail in distress.

“We’re going to be stuck like this forever!” He rolls around in Yukio’s bed for good measure, and Yukio’s starting to think that the notion of Kise going into acting isn’t that far-fetched after all.

“It’s only been two days, calm down,” he says, sitting down on the floor. He takes the duck out of Kise’s bag and examines it closely for any markings or words. All he sees is Made in China at the bottom. Grimacing, he puts it down on his nightstand and turns to Kise, who hasn’t stopped listing the ways in which their lives have been ruined. “Do you mind?”

Kise looks at him, water works ready to go off again. “Senpai, what if we never return to our bodies? What am I going to do?”

The thought has definitely occurred to Yukio, and he’s tried not to bring it up for fear that Kise would do...exactly this. In an effort to change the subject, he flicks Kise's forehead and says, “Don’t worry so much, freshman. I’ll try to keep your face pretty until you get it back.”

That stops Kise from crying, and gets him a different look altogether.

"What?" Yukio says, a little nervous. Kise's looking at him much too intently. It's the same look he gets during games; Yukio's never seen him make it off the court.

"Nothing," Kise says, looking away. "It's just...I guess I've realized how difficult it is to be you the last couple of days."

It's not what Yukio expected to hear. "My life's not that difficult."

"Are you kidding? Being captain is really hard, and you have to do that on top of just playing basketball and going to school. You didn't tell me you were fifteenth in your class."

Yukio looks for any sign of teasing, but it seems like Kise is in earnest. "That's not even the top ten. It's not that impressive," he mutters, suddenly finding it in himself to be embarrassed. “Well, it’s not like your life is exactly a stroll in the park.”

Kise shrugs. “I don’t really think about it that way.”

He gives him a withering look. “Don’t tell me that everything really comes that easily to you,” he says.

“It’s not like that,” Kise argues. "I'm just saying that I...that I think you're cool, that's all."

"What?” Yukio can’t keep the surprise off his face. Kise looks sincere, his face a little pink, even, but Yukio finds it hard to believe that he's hearing this from the brat who has him labeled as "Grouchy Ass Senpai" on his phone.

“Um, I mean, it’s not just me who thinks that!” He sits up now and looks at Yukio seriously. “All of the team members think that you’re really cool, even Moriyama Senpai, and your classmates do, too. Especially the girls."

Now Kise just isn't making sense. Girls terrify Yukio. Just remembering the photoshoot with Ayase-san makes him break out in sweat all over again. "Don't be ridiculous. Why would the girls think I'm cool?"

The expression on Kise’s face can be described as nothing but skeptical. “I mean, you are pretty cool: you’re the captain of the basketball team, have good grades, and don’t even have a girlfriend.”

Yukio can only stare. Well, it's not as if Kise knows about...that. Judging from what Ayase-san and his photographer said, though, Kise's the same way. "Uh, I'm not...interested...in girls." It's the first time he's told anyone directly. Moriyama knows, but he doesn't count: he only found out when he tried to kiss Yukio in second year, and Yukio had to tell him that it wasn't because he was a boy--it was because he was, well, him.

There’s a long pause before Kise talks. “Oh...me neither.”

I know, he doesn’t say, and gives Kise a quick smile. "Okay, well, we've got that settled then." Before an awkward silence can descend, he adds, "Oh, right, I should call your mom and let her know that I'm staying the night. Maybe tomorrow we can take the duck to an occultist or something."

"Right," Kise says after a beat. He looks disappointed, but Yukio supposes anyone would look like that after a fruitless day of being stuck in someone else's body. "I guess we should get ready for bed, then."

"Yeah." Yukio takes out Kise's phone and calls his mom. "Go ahead and use the bathroom first." He smiles at Kise as he shuffles off to the bathroom, and Kise smiles back, albeit a little weakly.

After he gets off the phone with Kise's mom, he sits in his room and stares at the wall. "Well, we've got that settled then," he mutters. He rubs his forehead and flops back on the bed. That was, he's forced to admit, not the best line he's ever uttered.

*

Ryouta spends a lot of unnecessary time staring at his reflection in the small mirror in Senpai’s bathroom. “Uh, I’m not...interested...in girls.” The moment plays over and over again in his head. This means that he wouldn’t mind holding Ryouta’s hand, right? And that he would be okay with kissing him? Does Ryouta want to kiss him?

Shaking his head, he reaches for the toothbrush. He's getting ahead of himself. Just because Kasamatsu Senpai isn't interested in girls doesn't mean that he's interested in Kise. There are plenty of guys who would like Senpai, too. Like Moriyama Senpai, who treats Kasamatsu Senpai with an easy familiarity that Ryouta realizes he doesn't like. Ryouta frowns at his reflection in the mirror. Honestly, Senpai can date whoever he wants to. But it would be nice if he showed some interest in Ryouta beyond what a senpai shows his kouhai...

Not that Ryouta cares. He’s just saying that a captain should show more interest in his ace. “Yeah, that’s all,” he tells himself, wiping his mouth clean. The reflection that looks back at him is still Senpai’s face, serious and handsome, and Ryouta finds himself staring shamelessly.

“I like you, Kise,” he says suddenly, smiling into the mirror, before he laughs and gets into the shower. That’s ridiculous, not to mention unlikely to happen. It would be like something straight out of a bad drama series, and Ryouta is getting a little too old for that. He thinks it’s unfair, then, that knowing how ridiculous it is doesn’t change the fact that his heart is still racing and his face is too hot.

Ryouta sinks to the floor and buries his head in his hands, chest heavy with the feeling of realization.

*

Even if he isn’t in his own body, Kise is still a guest in his house, so Yukio refuses to take the bed. Setting down the blankets, he falls back onto his bed mat and rejects Kise’s token resistance.

“But Senpai--”

“No.”

“Senpai, this is your room--”

“Which makes you a guest.”

“But don’t you miss your be--”

“Are you asking for 20 laps around the neighborhood, freshman?”

"We're not even at practice. You can't make me do that." Ryouta sits cross-legged on his bed, a pillow clutched to his chest.

Yukio rolls his eyes at him. “What, are you too polite to just tell me that you’re worried about your delicate model’s body?”

“What? No! It’s not like that, I’m just saying...” Kise trails off, and Yukio sighs before he climbs into bed next to him.

He’s fairly sure that he hears Kise squawking, and that prompts him to clap a hand over his mouth. “Let’s try not to disturb my parents,” he says, letting go when Kise nods and pushes his hand away.

They lie--or try to, anyway--side by side, and Yukio thinks that this would work a lot better if they weren’t basketball players. He's trying to keep his limbs tucked in, but they still bump against Kise's whenever he so much as shifts.

“This worked a lot better in theory,” he mutters, a little embarrassed. Thankfully, Kise seems amused as opposed to annoyed, and smiles at him.

“Um, here, maybe we should--” Kise turns on his side, curling up against Yukio. Yukio almost flails. Kise's so close, and even if he's in Yukio's body, it's still Kise. He's not sure what to do with his arms, so eventually he just wraps them around Kise. It only serves to draw him closer, his head resting in the crook of Yukio's shoulder, but it's more comfortable than the arrangement they had before.

"Um, good?" he asks, trying to sound casual even though his heart is thumping. Why is it doing that? Can Kise hear it?

“Yeah,” Kise says, and Yukio can feel the hum of his voice against his chest. Now he’s definitely sure that Kise can hear his heart pounding.

He tries to breathe slowly. Maybe if he doesn't say anything, Kise won't mention it, either.

It only works for a few minutes, until Kise says, "Senpai?"

"Yeah?" Kise knows that he doesn't like girls now. If he thinks that Yukio likes him, will he ask him to sleep on the bed mat after all? But Yukio doesn't like him. Kise is his kouhai, his ace--nothing more. It’s only normal to be nervous when he's this close to someone like Kise, who's beautiful enough to turn heads wherever he goes. Except Kise isn't even in his actual body right now. Yukio's head hurts; he wants to run to the nearest basketball court and practice until he can't think of anything except sleep.

Kise's voice shakes a little when he says, "Um, don't hate me, okay?"

"Huh? Why would I hate--"

His question is cut off by Kise's mouth pressing against his. It’s little more than a brush of their lips, Yukio too caught off guard to do anything but stare at Kise. Even when he pulls back, Yukio can’t stop staring, still trying to figure out what just happened.

“Sorry. Sorry, I just--” Kise looks up at him, expression unsure--and it occurs to Yukio that this is Kise, insecure about kissing Yukio, of all people.

Endearment wells up in his throat and Yukio manages to say, “Stop apologizing,” before he kisses him, too.

He’s been told that kissing is a pleasant experience, but Yukio has kissed a grand total of two people in his life, the other being Moriyama, and really that doesn’t even count. All he can do is panic a little at the thought of what he’s supposed to do next. Then he feels Kise licking at the seam of his mouth and Yukio opens up, letting Kise run his tongue over the flats of his teeth. It hits him that Kise’s tongue is in his mouth, and that he has absolutely no idea what he’s supposed to do with his own.

Yukio pulls away, pushing at Kise’s shoulder. “I’m, um,” he tries to articulate himself.

"Sorry," Kise says. He's breathing hard. "Are you, um. Are you not into that?"

"No! It's not like that." Damn Kise's body. He swears he's not usually this quick to blush. "It's just...I've just..." Kise stares at him expectantly, and he finishes in a rush. "I've just never done this before."

Kise blinks. Yukio bites the inside of his cheek, nervous all over again, especially when Kise covers his face with a hand. Maybe this means that he doesn’t want to kiss Yukio anymore and he’s just trying to figure out a delicate way of phrasing it.

Then Kise wails--wails--in a voice loud enough to wake Yukio's parents, "Senpai is so cute!"

Yukio kicks him as hard as he can on the cramped bed. "Don't be so loud! You're going to wake my parents up. And--and don't say stuff like that. I'm not cute!"

"But you are," Kise says, his voice quieter. "You're really, really cute."

"You're only saying that because I have your face right now."

"Senpai's face is cute, too. Anyway, it's just cute because you've never been kissed before.”

He’s about to say something rude when Kise’s smile slants into something filled with intent, and Yukio swallows.

“Don’t worry, Senpai, I’ll make sure that this is a good experience for you,” he says.

"What kind of face is that! You look like you're from a bad porno." To be accurate, Yukio looks like he's from a bad porno. He buries his face in the pillow so he doesn't have to see that expression.

Kise moves closer until he's half draped over Yukio. "Don't be like that," he says, right against Yukio's ear. Yukio shudders, knowing that Kise can feel it. "Will you let me kiss you again?"

Before he can answer, Kise starts kissing his ear, giving it an experimental lick. Yukio shudders again, feeling Kise’s breath hot in his ear. He licks and sucks at it until Yukio’s gasping, and when Kise bites down, he lets out a noise, louder than he means it to be.

“Now who’s the loud one?” Kise asks. He’s sure that he has a smart retort to that somewhere, but it’s a little difficult to think of anything when Kise turns him over and pushes up his shirt.

"Let's see," he says, fingers trailing over his nipples. Yukio moans and arches off the bed, surprised at the heat the touch sends rushing through his body. Kise laughs softly. "Yeah, I'm really sensitive here." Then he bends his head down and mouths at one of the nipples, and Yukio has to stuff his fist in his mouth to stop the cries.

Kise licks and sucks at his nipple, pinching the other one between his fingers. Yukio's never thought of touching himself there before, but Kise obviously knows what he's doing: he circles his tongue around the nipple, then tugs on it gently with his teeth before turning his attention to the other one. Yukio whimpers, embarrassed to make a noise like that but unable to help it. Tangling his fingers in Kise's hair, he presses his head down; Kise takes the hint and sucks on his nipple until Yukio is gasping for breath, his dick straining against his boxers.

Yukio lifts his hips, trying to grind against Kise, but Kise gently untangles his fingers and pulls back. "Don't," he moans, as Kise moves off and lies next to him. His hands trace up and down Yukio's chest.

"You look good like this," he says.

And isn’t that like a cold splash of water in his face. “I’m in your body right now, dumbass,” he says, leaning back a little.

Kise takes a moment to consider this. “Oh, yeah.” He smiles. “I do look good like this.”

Yukio rolls his eyes and tries to remember what it felt like not wanting to punch Kise.

“I’m sure that if you were in your body, you would look good like this too, Senpai,” Kise says, like it’s a matter of fact. He thinks that the option of kicking him off onto the bed mat is looking more and more appealing, and tells Kise so.

“Aw, really?” Kise pouts, and what Yukio wouldn’t give to make him stop doing that with his face. He’s this close to following up on his threat before Kise stops lamenting Yukio’s lack of affection for his kouhai and pushes his hand into his pants.

Yukio saves himself the trouble of trying to keep quiet, muffling himself with his pillow instead. It isn’t like he has a basis of comparison, but Yukio’s jerked himself off before, enough to know that this feels better. It’s Kise, touching him with calculated strokes and twisting his wrist, because he knows. He puts a hand over Kise’s and watches him still.

“Is something wrong?” Kise asks.

“What? No,” he says, pushing his pants down. Kise actually looks concerned, and it makes his chest fill up with something warm.

“Are you sure? Did I hurt you?” Kise pauses. “Do you want me to suck you off?”

He didn’t really know that that could sound so appealing up until now. Then again, he thinks, he didn’t really know a lot of things about Kise before. Yukio groans. “No, I just didn’t want to get your pants dirty.”

"Senpai, that's so thoughtful." Kise beams at him.

Yukio slaps his forehead. "Please get back to jerking me off, freshman, before I have to finish the job myself."

"That would be extremely sad, when you have a willing kouhai here." Kise starts stroking him again, the playfulness gone as he watches Yukio moan into his pillow. "Tell me when you're close, Senpai."

He nods, words not an option at this point, as he starts fucking up into Kise’s fist. Kise coaxes him along, his other hand reaching up to pinch and twist his nipple. Yukio means to tell him, words or no words, that he’s close to the edge, but Kise leans down into his ear and starts telling him everything he likes about Yukio. Then he kisses down to his jaw and says, “Senpai, I like you,” and Yukio comes without warning, crying Kise's name into the pillow.

When his breathing has evened out and his head feels a little clearer, he sits up and sees Kise kneeling next to him, licking his fingers clean. Any words he might have managed to collect in the last minute melt out of his head again. There's a very obvious bulge in the front of Kise's boxers.

“Um, can I,” he isn’t sure how he’s supposed to say this. “...do anything for you?”

He’s almost positive that Kise is going to laugh at his smooth execution, but he turns to Yukio, and he can see how wrecked he is. His face is flushed and pupils blown, and he’s trying hard to even out his breathing.

“Senpai, I want--” he says, a little helplessly, and Yukio pulls him back down onto the bed.

He trails his fingers down Kise’s stomach, and doesn’t stop when he meets his waistband. After licking a stripe up his palm, Yukio starts stroking his cock. He knows what feels good, teasing the slit of his cock with a finger and then taking it away just when Kise starts arching into his touch. Kise whimpers at the loss.

“Don’t tease me, Senpai, please.” He sounds breathless and broken, and Yukio wants to find out what other sounds he can make.

“It’s okay,” he says, and starts jerking Kise off again. “I promise that this will make it feel better.”

He doesn't think that Kise heard him, but it doesn't really matter; not when he's making noises like that, half-formed sentences ending on a moan when Yukio rubs the head of his cock.

“Can you--” Kise's gasping for breath. "Kiss--please--kiss me, Senpai."

That sends a shiver running down his spine, like he hadn’t gotten off just five minutes ago. “Yeah,” he breathes, and leans in to kiss him. It's a little hard with the angle, and their teeth bump together a few times, but Kise's mouth opens up easily under his and he forgets any discomfort with the slide of their tongues.

He pulls back and leans his forehead against Kise's. "I like you," he says, the words rushing out on an exhale. "You're so annoying, and selfish, and god, I like you so, so much."

"Kasamatsu Senpai," Kise sobs, before Yukio presses his fingers against his balls, and he cries out and comes.

Yukio reaches over to the nightstand for some tissues to wipe his hand clean. He's throwing the tissue away when Kise's hiccups become more pronounced, and he turns to Kise, whose face is streaming with tears.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Yukio whispers, despite the panic rising inside him. “What’s wrong?”

Kise crawls into his arms, and Yukio strokes his hair. It's strange to realize that it's really his face the tears are streaming down, but he ignores that and takes some more tissues from the nightstand and hands them to Kise.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I was just really happy when you told me you liked me too.” His face is splotchy and red, and he looks a little embarrassed. "I'm a really easy crier, Senpai. That's all."

"Oh, that's good," Yukio says, and immediately wants to thump his head against the wall. "I mean. It's good that you're happy that I like you. Because I do."

Kise rests his head on his shoulder. "Even if I'm annoying and selfish?"

Yukio is embarrassed, but only for a moment. Things might be different between Kise and him now, but not everything has changed. "Yes. Trust me, I'm surprised, too. But it still...makes sense."

Kise leans up to kiss him. "If there was one good thing that came out of this whole mess, it was things making sense," he says quietly. "I'm happy."

"Yeah," Yukio says, kissing his forehead. "Me too."

*

sunday

Ryouta doesn't know why, but he expected to be back in his body when he woke up the next morning. Maybe it was what the old lucky item vendor said: they had to find peace to switch their bodies back, and didn't realizing their feelings mean that he and Kasamatsu Senpai had achieved that? But when he opens his eyes in the morning, he finds his own face staring back at him.

"Morning," Kasamatsu Senpai says. He looks wide awake.

Ryouta blushes. He wishes that he didn't do that so easily around Kasamatsu Senpai now, but it's hard when all he can think about is kissing him. "Good morning. Have you been awake long?"

"Only for a couple of minutes. I didn't want to wake you up."

"Oh, it's okay. I'm a pretty deep sleeper."

Kasamatsu Senpai kisses his forehead. "I just wanted to stay in bed with you, too," he says in a rush. Then he rolls out of bed before Ryouta can reply and hurries off to the bathroom.

Ryouta giggles and sits up in bed. Kasamatsu Senpai is so cute.

His giggles die away when Senpai’s mom suddenly appears in the doorway. Ryouta jumps and scrambles to pull a blanket over himself. Senpai’s mom just raises an eyebrow at him and looks around the room.

“Breakfast is ready, Yukio,” she says, more to the pile of clothes on the floor than to Ryouta, but she doesn’t look angry, so maybe Senpai already told his parents? Ryouta doesn’t really think he wants to be the person who burst the Kasamatsu family’s dreams of swimming in a sea of grandchildren.

“Oh, okay, thanks, Kaa-san.” Ryouta stands up and starts tidying the room, trying to shove the pile of tissues on the floor into a waste bin as discreetly as possible. Unfortunately, Kasamatsu Senpai’s mom doesn’t leave.

“So, are you spending the day with Kise-kun?” she asks, and Ryouta drops all the tissues in his surprise.

“Um,” he says. Maybe yesterday’s casual welcome reception by Kasamatsu Senpai’s parents was just a way to blindside him with this. Is she trying to say that it’s okay for Ryouta to have sordid sex with their son under the Kasamatsu roof, because he somehow doesn’t think that this is the right way to do that.

“I thought you two were doing homework.” Oh, right. Homework.

“W-we are!” Ryouta finally turns to Senpai’s mom and says, “I’ll be down soon, Kaa-san.”

Taking the hint, she gives Ryouta a knowing smile before she leaves him alone. Senpai comes back into the room drying off his hair. He takes a look at Ryouta and smiles.

“I sure hope my mom didn’t see you like that,” he says, and Ryouta chokes.

"Um, about that, Senpai...do your parents know? About, um, you and girls. Because if they didn't, they do now."

Instead of freaking out like Ryouta had imagined, Kasamatsu Senpai just makes a discontented noise before picking up his clothes. “She never knocks,” he says, before he turns to Ryouta. “Don’t worry about it, they’ve known for a while.”

"Thank god," Ryouta says, letting out a sigh of relief. It would have been terrible for Kasamatsu Senpai's parents to find out this way. He walks over to him and kisses him.

Kasamatsu Senpai scowls and pushes his face away. "Go brush your teeth, freshman. Your breath stinks."

Ryouta lets his lower lip wobble. "How mean. Is that any way to treat your kouhai?"

Leaning in, Kasamatsu Senpai kisses him quickly on the lips, soothing the sting of his words. "Don't be such a baby. Nobody likes morning breath. Now go, before my mom comes back up here and asks what's taking us so long."

“Okay,” he says quietly, and doesn’t move, resting his forehead on Kasamatsu Senpai’s shoulder. He thinks the world can wait for just another minute.

*

Just because he isn’t looking at physics anymore doesn’t mean that Ryouta has to like doing his homework. It’s a little disheartening how diligent Kasamatsu Senpai is, not even looking up from his notebook while Ryouta is staring at the words on the page until they’re just jumbles of black on white.

He turns to Kasamatsu Senpai. "Can we--"

"No."

"But I didn't even--"

"You can't take a break, Kise. You took one ten minutes ago!"

Ryouta turns over onto his back and directs his surly expression at the ceiling. “I just don’t like doing things that make me use my head.” There’s a sudden whack to his face, and Ryouta sits up, rubbing his nose. “What was that for, Senpai!”

Kasamatsu Senpai doesn’t even look the least bit sorry. “Are you saying that basketball doesn’t make you use your head!”

"Well..."

"Never mind. Don't answer that. Just...study, okay?"

Ryouta just drapes himself across Kasamatsu Senpai's chest, preventing him from doing his homework. "I want to kiss," he whines. He even kicks his feet for good measure. He's not sure how effective it is in Kasamatsu Senpai's body, but it's worth a try.

Kasamatsu Senpai doesn’t budge, holding up his book higher to read what it says. “I thought you liked nerds,” he says absently, concentrating on the text.

“Well, it’s not totally self-serving,” Ryouta explains. “What if kissing more is the way to switching our bodies back?”

That prompts Senpai to put down his book and give him a look. “What? Do you hear yourself right now?”

Ryouta props himself up on Kasamatsu Senpai’s chest and launches into a real explanation. “I mean, the old man at the store did say we had to find the peace within ourselves.”

“That geriatric was clearly a little past the point of fresh.” Kasamatsu Senpai is frowning now.

“What if he means we have to go all the way?”

Kasamatsu Senpai chokes. “How does that even make sense!”

He shrugs. “You can feel pretty peaceful after sex...” Ryouta feels Senpai pushing him off then.

“You didn’t even do your homework,” he mutters, but Ryouta can see the tips of his ears turning pink.

Smiling, he sidles up close to Kasamatsu Senpai. “We don’t have anything to lose, right?”

"No, but your explanation still makes no sense!"

If the redness of Kasamatsu Senpai's ears is any indicator, Ryouta is close to wearing him down. It's like teasing him before they realized their feelings, but with much better consequences. Ryouta strokes Kasamatsu Senpai's neck and whispers into his ear, "You've never been fucked, right, Senpai?"

Kasamatsu Senpai shivers, but doesn't push Ryouta way.

Ryouta licks his ear and sucks on his piercing. He smiles when Senpai moans and leans closer to him. "I can make you feel good like that, too."

"Okay," Senpai breathes. "Okay. I want to do it."

His stomach flutters as he slides his hand down Kasamatsu Senpai's chest, down to his crotch, where he fondles him through his pants. Kasamatsu Senpai moans and arches up into his touch. "Usually I like being fucked," he says, watching Senpai's eyes fall closed and his chest heaving in short little gasps as Ryouta squeezes him. He can feel him getting hard, and it makes heat spike low in his belly. "But I think I can make an exception, for your first time."

"Y-Yeah?" he gasps, voice wavering.

"Yeah," Ryouta says, and finally kisses him hard on the mouth. He takes his hand away to start looking through Kasamatsu Senpai's nightstand. "Do you have any lube, Senpai?"

"Second drawer," Senpai replies, taking off his pants and stroking himself. He leans back against the pillows with a moan.

Ryouta finds the lube, another curl of heat unfolding as he thinks about Kasamatsu Senpai using it to jerk himself off. He uncaps the bottle and pours some on his fingers. Kasamatsu Senpai is still touching himself, making little noises of pleasure, and Ryouta hurries to spread his legs and find his entrance.

"I don't think it'll hurt," he says. "Since I've, uh, had plenty of sex. But it's been a while, so..."

Kasamatsu Senpai's eyes narrow at him. "Do me a favor, Kise, and don't talk about all the sex you've had before we're about to do it."

Ryouta grins. "Look at it this way: it means I know exactly how to make you feel good." He presses a finger against Kasamatsu Senpai's hole, but Senpai grabs his wrist.

"Wait," he says, voice serious despite the flush on his cheeks. "We don't have condoms."

Ryouta kisses him. "I don't have anything. You don't either, right? I mean, you can't, since you've a blushing vir--"

Kasamatsu Senpai pushes his face away. "What the hell! Don't call me that!"

"Aw, are you embarrassed?" Ryouta darts a kiss to his cheek despite the murder gleaming in Kasamatsu Senpai's eyes. He really, really wants to fuck him; Senpai probably makes the cutest noises during sex. "I'm going to push a finger in now," he says, and does just that.

He doesn't expect Kasamatsu Senpai to yelp.

"Does it hurt?" he asks, confused. He pulls his finger out anyway. He doesn't want to hurt Kasamatsu Senpai. "My body should be used to it, even if it's been a while. I mean, I've taken it up the ass a lot of ti--"

Kasamatsu Senpai grabs his wrist again and grits out, "One: don't talk about all the sex you've had. Two: your body might be used to it, but it still feels weird for me because I've never done it before. Three: don't fucking stop."

The authoritative tone in his voice sends a shiver down Ryouta's spine. "Okay," he says, pushing his finger back in slowly. "Tell me how you want it."

"Go slow," Kasamatsu Senpai orders. He spreads his legs, pushing on Ryouta's wrist. "Deeper. Yeah...that feels good."

"You're unsurprisingly bossy in bed," Ryouta says, fucking him with his finger. "I like it."

Kasamatsu Senpai cuffs him on the back of the head. "Do you ever shut up?" Then he moans as Ryouta adds another finger, scissoring them. "Oh god. Like that. Keep doing that."

"Keep talking?" Ryouta asks, even though his mouth has gone dry at the sight of Kasamatsu Senpai pressing his lips together to stop his moans. "Or keep doing this?" He scissors his fingers again.

"That," Kasamatsu Senpai says with a shudder. "Don't be a shit, Kise, or I swear to god--oh. What--what did you just do?"

"What? This?" Ryouta smirks and curls his fingers again. From the way Kasamatsu Senpai's eyes roll back and his mouth falls open on a wordless cry, he's pretty sure he's found his prostate. "Feel good, Senpai?"

He expects an irritated retort, but instead all Kasamatsu Senpai says is, "Fuck me."

Ryouta swallows and complies, thrusting his fingers in and out of him with more force. Just a little more, he thinks. He wants Senpai to be ready when he pushes his cock inside, to shudder apart and squeeze around him like he's squeezing around his fingers now.

"More," Senpai begs. "Kise, please, I want more."

Soothing him with a kiss, Ryouta pushes in another finger, pressing in deep and then curling each finger one by one.

"I'm ready, I'm ready. Kise, please--don't make me beg--" He looks up at Kise, pupils blown wide, and despite his words he's begging Ryouta to fuck him.

"O-Okay," he breathes, pulling his fingers out. Ryouta reaches for the lube blindly, unable to tear his eyes away from Kasamatsu Senpai like this: arching up into where Ryouta’s hand rests on his hip and gasping out Ryouta’s name.

When Ryouta finally gets the cap open, he does his best not to spill any before slicking his cock. He pushes up on Senpai’s leg and shudders before asking, “Is this good?”

Kasamatsu Senpai growls, “Come on, come on, fuck me,” far too gone to care just how Ryouta does it. Swallowing, Ryouta nods and hooks Kasamatsu Senpai’s leg over his shoulder before pushing inside of him. He closes his eyes, moaning at the feeling of muscle giving away to his cock, at the feeling of being inside Kasamatsu Senpai.

Ryouta takes a moment, more for himself than anything, trying to think about something to take off the edge. Kasamatsu Senpai clenches around him, then, and Ryouta takes the hint, pushing in before pulling out again in a steady rhythm.

“S-Senpai, I’m going in so deep,” he says in awe, watching himself push inside Kasamatsu Senpai, again and again.

“Why are you looking there, idiot!” There’s no heat in his voice, only need and want and “Fuck, Kise,” when Ryouta rolls his hips and shifts the angle. “Th--There, again. Do that.”

Ryouta does, driving deep against the same spot that had Kasamatsu Senpai swearing just seconds ago. “Like this?” he asks, and he doesn’t really need an answer, not when Kasamatsu Senpai is whimpering like that. Senpai doesn't make noises like that. He just doesn't. It feels like a secret between just the two of them, and it has Ryouta whimpering, too, as he thrusts into Kasamatsu Senpai up to the hilt.

“I’m--I’m glad that your first time is with me,” Ryouta admits.

Kasamatsu Senpai smiles up at him and twines their fingers together. “Me too.”

He stares at Kasamatsu Senpai for a lingering moment, heart in his throat, and a little too hesitant to tell him everything he wants (I like you, I want you, you make me happy, please don’t stop looking at me this way). Senpai starts grinding down onto his cock with what little leverage he can manage before Ryouta fucks him in hard, fast strokes.

It doesn’t take long until Kasamatsu Senpai’s gasping, “Kise, I’m close.”

“You should come for me, then.” Ryouta wants to watch, wants to learn what Senpai looks like when he can’t think of anything other than the way Ryouta’s fucking him.

Kasamatsu Senpai shakes his head. “You too,” he says, clenching around him.

Ryouta groans and his hips stutter, losing their rhythm.

“You’re so beautiful, and you always seem so put together.” He looks Ryouta in the eyes and tells him, “I want to see you fall apart for me.”

That’s it--Ryouta’s gone, coming hard with Kasamatsu Senpai’s name on his lips. He's gasping, trying to get his breath back, when Kasamatsu Senpai reaches down and starts jerking himself off. Ryouta can only watch, his mouth slack, as Senpai brings himself off, crying out Ryouta's name.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. They definitely need to revisit that, preferably more than once. Maybe he’ll tell Kasamatsu Senpai when either of them can do something other than lie here together and try to breathe normally again.

"That was..." Kasamatsu Senpai trails his fingers up and down Ryouta's side slowly, stroking his skin. "Really good. Wow."

"I'm glad." Ryouta smiles down at Senpai. "I told you I'd make you feel good, didn't I?"

Kasamatsu Senpai just rolls his eyes. Ryouta considers it a step up from hitting him on the back of the head and leans down to kiss him.

"I like you," he murmurs against his lips. He closes his eyes. He thinks he hears Kasamatsu Senpai say, "I like you, too," but there's a strange buzzing in the back of his head that grows until he's dizzy, clinging to Senpai's shoulders for support more than anything else.

"Senpai," he gasps. He doesn't know what's happening. Has he finally had sex good enough to reach nirvana? It can't be. It was good, but it was still only missionary position, and there's so much more interesting sex they could have. They've only just started.

"Kise--" Senpai sounds hoarse. "What--"

Just as quickly as the sensation washed over him, it leaves, and Ryouta opens his eyes, hoping he won’t see himself in the afterlife completely naked. What he sees is Kasamatsu Senpai, staring back at him with wide eyes, just as it should be. Maybe he’s wondering whether he’s reached nirvana too.

“We can talk about nirvana later, Senpai,” he says between yawns, and pulls Kasamatsu Senpai down beside him. What he gets for his efforts is a smack to the stomach.

“Open your eyes!” Senpai snaps, and it’s--it’s Kasamatsu Senpai, who’s barking at Ryouta in his own voice.

Ryouta opens his eyes and sits up. “Senpai,” he whispers, staring at his hands, “pinch me.” He does Ryouta one better and smacks him again. Ryouta is too giddy with relief to even complain. “It worked.”

“No kidding,” Kasamatsu Senpai says, before he grins at him. “Good going, freshman. Sometimes you know what you're talking about, after all."

"Only sometimes? How mean!" Ryouta pouts, sure that the expression is much cuter now that he's back in his own body. Kasamatsu Senpai isn't bad looking at all, but his (handsomely) scowling face isn't really suited to pouts.

Kasamatsu Senpai looks like he wants to cuff Kise on the head again, but then he seems to think better of it, reaching down to push his bangs out of his eyes instead. “Shut up and kiss me, stupid.”

Ryouta leans in easily to kiss him, to really kiss him, and feels a smile against his own. A lot of things have changed, but he thinks that’s okay, especially if he gets to have this.

*

monday

"Hurry up, freshman!" Yukio stops and waits for Kise, who's trailing several steps behind. His head is down, and he's worrying his lip. "We're going to be late for school."

"Sorry, sorry." Kise catches up to him, but he's still biting his lip, and he won't look Yukio in the eye.

"I'm pretty sure your stylist tells you not to chew on your lip all the time, or it'll chap," Yukio says. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!"

"Kise..."

Kise looks at his shoes, at the sky, at a group of passing schoolgirls who notice him and start giggling and whispering among themselves. Yukio scowls at them and they hurry along. Still, Kise doesn't say anything, until Yukio huffs and opens his mouth to scold him for trying to hide things from his Senpai.

"It's just," he says, his face coloring. It's a good look on him, Yukio notes, and is glad all over again that they've got their own bodies back. "I was just wondering...this weekend..."

Yukio tries not to panic. They spent the entire weekend having sex, Kise showing Yukio what he likes and helping him find out what works for Yukio. Does Kise regret it? Does he think that they jumped into things too quickly, that everything was only the result of being thrown into each other's bodies?

Then Kise says, “Um, it means that we’re together now...right?” He finally looks at Yukio, unsure and nervous, and Yukio wants to kiss it all away. There are still people around, though, who are watching the scene with interest, so Yukio walks up to Kise and tucks nonexistent stray hairs behind an ear.

“Obviously,” he says, and flicks his nose. “Did you think you were going to get rid of me that easily, freshman?”

Kise gives him a watery smile, and Yukio’s afraid that he might start crying again, but then he rubs his nose and complains. “I never said anything like that, Senpai!”

Yukio smiles back and grabs his hand. "Come on, Kise. Let's go."

He turns around and starts walking, and Kise follows him with a happy, "Yes, captain!"

It's a Monday, but Yukio doesn't mind at all.

----

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Notes:

The title is taken from The Cure's "Friday, I'm in Love." Written just in time for the New Year. Have a good one, everyone!