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“Alright boys I don’t want to hear any complaining,” principal Yaga intoned with his hands interlaced on his desk. “The cultural festival is coming up and the art department needs help preparing the decorations— I’ve given the head of the art club the requirements of your detention and they will assign your task.”
Haruta was familiar with Yaga’s office; he was in here at least twice a month, but he had never been here with him. Nanami nodded along with Yaga’s words as if he expected such a punishment, and that annoyed Haruta— that Nanami had weighed the pro’s and con’s of flinging Haruta across the courtyard by his ponytail before he acted.
The roots of his hair still ached and it was a miracle that no hair had been pulled out by the savagery. Haruta was self aware enough to know that the reason Nanami had done such a thing was because Haruta had stolen Ijichi’s lunch and he might have slapped him a time or two but that was neither here nor there. The fact was that Nanami had reacted and flung him across the courtyard.
Haruta tried to tackle the taller boy with no such luck, he started punching any place he could reach— Nanami’s stomach (rock hard if you wanted to know) the underside of his jaw where a dark bruise had started to bloom. Haruta might have kicked him a few times too and would’ve done more if they hadn’t been ripped away from each other and promptly escorted to the nurses office. Once the blood had been cleaned; a scratch on Nanami’s neck and a trickle of blood from Haruta’s nose they had been sent to the principal's office to be sentenced to god knows how many hours of servitude underneath the art club's leader— Yuki.
Haruta shivered at the thought.
He left Yaga’s office and turned down the hallway, untied the aching ponytail and massaged his scalp as he walked, school was long over, the halls eerie with the only sound from when his shoes scuffed the floor. Soon another noise joined and the steady thudding of feet padded behind him— quiet but obvious in the strange silence of school. Haruta couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder to check to see if Nanami had really followed him; he was. Nanami’s hands were tucked around the straps of his backpack but he looked straight at Haruta with face bruised and short blond hair ruffled.
“What are you looking at?” Haruta goaded from over his shoulder and ignored the flush that creeped up his cheeks. Nanami’s hazel eyes seemed to be tracing the path of Haruta's long blond hair, he brushed his hair back self consciously, so it didn’t lay in a shroud over his shoulders.
“You need to apologize,” Nanami insisted, his eyes now trained on Harruta's with thinly veiled anger.
Haruta turned around fully and got right up into Nanami’s space and scoffed. “You really think I’d apologize to you— the guy who just threw me across the courtyard by my hair?” Haruta’s heart pounded wildly in his chest; as it always did when Nanami was close. Nanami sighed and a puff of warm air fluttered against his cheeks. Haruta should’ve been disgusted, being so close that he could feel his breath on his skin but it wasn’t— he was enthralled.
“Not me— Ijichi. He doesn’t deserve your bullying,” Nanami clafired.
Haruta rolled his eyes and poked him in the chest, his school uniform soft underneath his fingertip but the muscles underneath weren’t. “You’re quite the hero aren’t you?” Haruta jeered.
“It’s better than being a petty villain who goes after people who won’t fight back,” Nanami countered.
Haruta watched with rapture as Nanami wrapped a hand around the finger Haruta was using to poke him and held him still. Haruta was a lot of things and petty definitely was one of them. The only reason Haruta even started going after Ijichi was because Nanami never paid any attention to him otherwise. Haruta was a firm believer in all attention was good attention and if bullying Ijichi a bit was what it took then that's what it took.
The problem was he didn’t know what he wanted to do once he got Nanami’s attention.
“Maybe you should keep me occupied instead.” The words tumbled out of Haruta’s mouth with much more confidence than he felt. Nanami’s eyebrows rose briefly before his face settled back into apathy and let go of his grip on Haruta’s pointer finger.
“I don’t reward good behavior.”
“Oh, are you saying you want me to be a good boy?” Haruta cooed and batted his eyelashes just a little bit (a lot).
“I want you to stop bullying my friends,” Nanami countered with a shake of his head.
“Then you should incentivize me with something.” He couldn’t stop himself from goading him— this was the most they’d ever spoken outside of being paired up in P.E.
“You’d really stop?”
Haruta hadn’t expected him to actually give in. Nanami usually just brushed him off like he was some sort of mosquito to be swatted away. This was different. It made him equally scared and excited. Haruta made a show of pretending to think, he twirled a lock of hair around his finger and hummed. “It would have to be something I really wanted.” Nanami just crossed his arms and looked down at him. Haruta wasn’t short, he was a very respectable height but Nanami was well on his way to hitting six feet any day now. He had to crane his head up just a bit to be able to keep eye contact— given how close they were standing.
“You’re really going to make me ask you, aren’t you?” Nanami intoned— he looked annoyed but the way his eyes couldn’t settle on one part of his face lit Haruta up inside.
Haruta nodded and bit his lip to try and hide the smile that was testing the strength of his cheeks.
Nanami sighed. “What do you want Shig—” Haruta interrupted and wagged finger in the air between them. “First of all call me by my name— you act like we haven’t known each other for some time,” he teased and watched with glee as Nanami’s eye twitched when he asked him to use his first name.
“What do you want, Haruta?” Nanami stressed his name and it caused him to feel a little sick to his stomach with excitement.
Haruta tapped his bottom lip in contemplation. What did he want? He had never actually thought that he’d get this far. It would have to be something good— something that he wanted and only Nanami could give him. He could make Nanami bring him a homemade lunch everyday for a month-- no that wasn’t enough. He wanted something more. What Haruta really wanted is simple; he wanted his attention.
“I want you to walk me home everyday,” he blurted a bit too loudly and embarrassment crept in with the rest of the emotions that roiled in his stomach. WHAT!? He didn’t even know where Nanami lived— what if he lived in the complete opposite direction?
“Okay.”
“What?” Haruta spluttered. “Do you even know where I live?”
Nanami rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I do— you live a few streets down from me. I’ve seen you walking to school.”
Haruta’s body filled with warmth from his fingers to his toes buzzed with pleasure. “Have you been watching me?” Nanami titled his chin to the side avoiding eye contact, the tilt of chin gave Haruta a clear view of the bruise he had gifted Nanami. “Tch no— I just noticed.”
Oh.
Oh.
“Whatever you say stalker,” Haruta flirted. “I expect my payment to start right now— no days off for you. And if you miss a day then you have to walk me to school in the morning for the rest of the year too.”
“I’ll make sure not to miss a day then.” Nanami countered and moved to the side and started walking down the hall.
Haruta huffed and scrunched his nose and ran after him. “You’re no fun.”