[Fic] The Favorite (oneshot)
Title: The Favorite
Fandom: HIGH & LOW
Pairing: Murayama Yoshiki/Cobra
Rating: PG-13
Genre: sort of angst, sort of romance
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot
Summary: Cobra is his favorite, even if he doesn't admit it.
A/N: I've been thinking about these two for a while and then my best friend also requested a fic with them, so...this happened XD
The Favorite
How many of them are lying around him, panting? Groaning in pain? Must be at least 20. Murayama loses interest in someone once they’re down on the floor; it’s not like he actually chose to fight this time.
His eyes sweep around the crowd that’s still standing, looking for an opening, a way out. He already hates the taste of blood in his mouth, even if he’s used to it by now. He has no idea who these people are, if they are from a gang around that area or just idiots who had too much free time in their hands. He has to give it to them, though; catching him off guard while he’s out on a walk alone is a smart move.
He spits the blood when it gets too much to handle and groan with a bored laughter. “Do we have to keep doing this, I really don’t have all day…”
One of them roars, and three more jump on him with their fists raised in the air. Murayama is fast to block the two of them, and he doesn’t really mind the kick he receives on his back, but then two more join, grab him and throw him around, dropping him on the ground. He coughs and shuts his eyes closed, just for a split second. Then he starts laughing again; they’re cowards, but they’re definitely fun enough…
The only problem is that he’s feeling the physical drain. It’s been pretty long since he had to face more than 10 people alone, and even though he’s not gonna pass out by the punches anytime soon, he still needs a few moments to take a breath. Moments he doesn’t have the luxury to enjoy. Those bastards definitely know who he is, even if he doesn’t.
“Dammit, which team did you brainless fuckers come from…” he lets out as he sits up slowly, but then he’s grabbed by the collar and forced up, only to be punched again. He groans and makes an effort to block the second punch. He succeeds, but his grip is now weak, and he only has his usual manic smile to scare or piss his opponents off.
There is a brief territorial struggle, and he’s quick to beat the next two that attack, but then someone kicks his leg from behind, and he’s down on his knees once more, panting heavily. Well, maybe it’s ok to stop being on the offense and turn into defense mode. He can take the punches, and then come back with his whole gang to get his revenge…
The pained moan he hears the next second is not his, and he’s 100% sure he’s not the one who has caused it, either. Lifting his eyes a bit, he barely has time to doge the body that tumbles down on him, and ends up on the dust next to him. Murayama raises one eyebrow before he turns to find out what has happened. The guys are now stepping backwards, whispering to each other in worry.
Soon, Murayama notices the sources of that panic, and despite his horrible state, he smirks.
“Cobra-chan…” he chirps, tilting his head as the one in question turns to look at him over his shoulder, only for a second before his focus is back on his opponent. Murayama wipes the blood from his lips on the back of his hand and tightens his bandana that’s about to fall loose. He makes an attempt to stand up; he fails.
Not that it matters, because Cobra has successfully managed to scare all of those who were still standing. Murayama forces himself up, punching his thighs lightly in the process.
“Not fair, why didn’t they run away from me too…” he almost pouts, even though he’s a tiny bit satisfied that things turned out this way. Maybe. It’s good that it’s Cobra out of all the other leaders. The only one who won’t make fun of him.
Cobra turns to him again with that distant, yet concerned expression. “You’re alive.”
Murayama frowns at that. “Just because I couldn’t find a great opportunity for a punch, doesn’t mean they can knock me out that easily. You forget who you’re talking to.”
“Sure.” Cobra mutters, looking at the mess Murayama has created. Murayama looks as well, because hey, he certainly likes what he sees. He’s done a great job, even though he had to cave afterwards.
His eyes are back on the leader now, at the way he’s once again looking uninterested by his surroundings. Like there’s nothing that can disturb his peace. Murayama is taking pride in the fact that he has been one of the few people who has managed to infuriate him in the past, to force him to show his wild side. In fact, he catches himself thinking about it way more often than he actually wants to.
“Any idea where these bastards are from?” he asks now, and Cobra spares another glance at him before he shrugs.
“Doubt, probably. They’re the only ones who would do this out of pure boredom. They probably thought of it as a big chance. I don’t really care.”
“You’re no fun.” Murayama clicks his tongue. He knows he’s the one who should be caring the most; now he owes Cobra, and that actually frustrates him, because he hates owing favors and all, especially to the other SWORD leaders.
Better Cobra than Rocky or Hyuga, though, that’s for sure.
“I hear Oya Koukou is rather calm these days.” Cobra comments after a few more moments of that awkward silence pass. “It’d be bad if you were in no state to keep them under control.”
“I’m touched.” Murayama snorts. “Cobra-chan, you didn’t have to save my ass if you didn’t want to.”
Cobra doesn’t reply to this. He doesn’t even scoff. Murayama is taken aback by the lack of reaction. Even if it’s Cobra, he still wouldn’t let this slip like that. He’s even more puzzled when Cobra gives him another weird look and then turns his back and starts walking away. Murayama makes another grimace and exhales deeply, scratching his head.
“And to think that you’re my favorite…” he mumbles between gritted teeth, unable to hide his disappointed expression.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………
He sees him again, a couple of times. Murayama has grown this habit of talking walks alone, trying to put his thoughts in order. It never really works, everything is a mess, like always. He hasn’t forgotten Cobra’s words, and how they helped him in his fight against Todoroki, but sometimes he wishes he could have more of those conversations. Cobra seems like he has everything figured out, like he has found the meaning of life. Murayama can’t be sure, but he certainly feels the sting of jealousy from time to time.
Maybe if he talked to him again…but it’s so unfortunate and inconvenient that Cobra is never alone. He sees him through the wire nets, just like in the past; sees him from afar, with the rest of his friends. Mostly listening, sometimes teasing Chiharu…he’s always the easiest target. One time, Murayama is sure he has grasped the hint of a smile, but mostly, Cobra is his usual quiet, indifferent, almost arrogant self.
Murayama is impulsive and thoughtless, and the few times he actually sits back to think of something seriously, he can’t help but feel lost. Cobra, on the other hand…thinking of his reserved face, his almost peaceful expression, Murayama can’t help but be torn inside. Torn between admiring that part of his and breaking it.
But the few times he’s seen him smile…
The last time he sees them from afar, Cobra actually spares a glimpse on him, and Murayama just stares back, unable to think of a right way to react. It doesn’t last long; Cobra returns his attention to Yamato, and Murayama just looks elsewhere, turning his back on them.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
Murayama hates owing people favors, even if that’s Cobra. He hates being chained down by obligations, and he doesn’t even want to think of what he will be asked to do. Not that Cobra ever mentioned that he’s gonna come back with a request or anything, but Murayama knows deep down that he’d do it if he was asked to. The only thing he wouldn’t do was something that could possibly harm his own people.
But Cobra is not the type to make stupid requests like that.
He sees them in the dark, still out on his own pointless walks; he can’t tell for sure, but they look like the guys who have beaten him up that day. They’re running, yelling “AFTER HIM!”, and Murayama raises an eyebrow in mild interest.
“Come back! Let us thank you for messing us up last time!”
Murayama moves almost against his own will, his legs acting on their own. He knows those streets, and he knows all the shortcuts, things those idiots are not even aware of. He knows that if someone is running from them, then he has no intention of fighting. His gut feeling keeps telling him it’s Cobra, although he can’t exactly find a reasonable explanation as to why Cobra would run away instead of fight. Nevertheless, he runs with all his might, as if he knows where the guy is heading.
But around that area, there’s only one place he could escape through the shortcuts.
He finds the warehouse relatively easy, and storms inside, looking around. The streets lights are shedding enough light through the broken windows, and Murayama only has to take a few more steps further inside, before he hears the panting. The familiar sound of someone trying to catch his breath after intense running. He heads there without hesitation and once he turns to the corner, he sees Cobra, crouched down on the ground, head leaned back on the wall, the corner of his lips bleeding.
He notices him before Murayama has the chance to let him know of his presence, and peers up at him with a weird look.
“What?”
“Cobra-chan, are you hiding? Need a helping hand?”
Cobra sighs, not really amused by the situation. Murayama rolls his eyes and then stretches his hand out, waiting.
“They were after you because you helped me, right?”
“So you recognized them as well.”
“It wasn’t that hard.”
Cobra remains immobile for a few moments, his eyes burning Murayama with their intense stare. Murayama feels his own cheekiness sliding down and away from his body, now looking at him clueless, and almost in anticipation.
Eventually, Cobra reaches out and holds his hand, and Murayama pulls him up, looking around with a troubled expression.
“I think it’d be ok to leave now. And if they find us, we can fend them off together.”
“Why are you even here?”
“I was just taking a walk. But hey, now I don’t owe you.” Murayama replies with a smirk, and Cobra just scoffs. He tries to yank his hand free, but Murayama frowns. “Stop being childish.”
“Says the actual child.”
“I’m not a child.”
Cobra just tries to break himself free again, and Murayama tightens his grip on his hand stubbornly, adding as much pressure as possible. Cobra hisses and raises his other hand to block him, but then Murayama shoves him against the wall, and eliminates the space between them, crashing their lips together.
He doesn’t know how. He knows why, he’s been feeling it in his system for quite some time now. Probably after that first fight, after he was beaten. But he’s still unable to say how he let himself lose control. He tastes the blood and senses the resistance, but only dives deeper, keeping Cobra pinned to the wall. Hands are on his clothes, pushing and pulling and dragging, and he knows he has to pull back, but then there’s a sound from Cobra’s side, and Murayama feels chills.
A grunt, and then Cobra’s hands are squeezing his elbows. Without a warning, Murayama is almost swept off his feet and then turned around, until his own back is facing the wall. He chokes and groans, breaking the kiss, but then there are fingers in his hair, pulling along with the fabric of his bandana, and Cobra’s mouth is the one covering his. There’s fighting with their tongues, and some really bad biting, and a bit of sucking, both of them too proud to just let the other one take control.
Murayama allows a soft moan to escape the back of his throat, his hands all over Cobra. The latter is kissing him so intensely that he’s not sure he’ll have a soul after this. Cobra moves a little bit to the side, getting a better angle, and Murayama only follows along, ravishing his mouth even more.
There’s a hand under his clothes now, and he shivers; Cobra’s hand is cold against his heated stomach that feels on fire, but he only uses his own hand to press it more there, another moan leaving him. Then there’s a groan of pleasure from Cobra as well, and they pull apart, staring at each other for a few seconds before kissing again.
It’s Murayama who has his hand in Cobra’s hair now, grabbing a fistful and pulling. His other hand is around his waist, keeping him close, pressed against his body. Cobra keeps kissing and touching hungrily, and he seems to have completely forgotten about his bruises.
After what feels like an eternity, they break apart again, and Murayama leans back, inhaling and exhaling loudly. He’s staring at Cobra’s lips, at the way they’re half-parted and a little bit swollen. Cobra is also panting, using him for support.
“Cobra-chan-“
“Out of here.” Is what he gets as an answer, and he bites on his lip, looking around. Cobra is not wrong, they do need to get out of here, but what exactly are they supposed to do after that?
He doesn’t actually ask that question, just helps him as they walk out of the warehouse. The others seem to have disappeared completely now, which practically gives them the chance to talk about it, but Cobra has switched back to his usual mask, and that is something Murayama doesn’t know how to handle.
“Will you be ok getting to your turf?” he asks. “Not that I’ll be thrilled to, but I can-“
He’s silenced by another rough kiss that takes him but surprise, but Cobra pulls away as fast as he initiated it. He averts his gaze and Murayama tilts his head.
“I can get there on my own.”
“Ok, but what about-“
“Not tonight.”
Murayama is still pretty innocent when it comes to stuff like that, but he doesn’t want to ruin whatever chance of them talking it out there is, so he just withdraws his hand reluctantly, and sighs.
“Whatever.”
He walks away as fast as he can, not daring look back. He doesn’t say a word to his own people, but stays awake all night. “Not tonight” means a million things, half of them unpleasant.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………
He doesn’t see or hear Cobra for the next couple of days. On the third day, he stops walking around on his own and just remains inside the school, lying down on his couch, staring at the ceiling. What is even the point?
On the fourth day, he hears uproar from the lower floors. When he’s about to sit up, a guy is punched inside and Cobra storms in, fuming. Murayama successfully sits up now, crossing his legs.
“Well, well…”
Cobra just keeps staring at him, until Murayama tells everyone to leave and let them alone to talk. Once the door is closed, he’s up on his feet again and grabs him by the collar, and Cobra allows himself to be shoved against the wall once more, not even blinking when Murayama’s mouth finds it way inches away from his.
“Asshole.” He growls. “Entering like that, what do you think I’ll do now that you hurt my own?”
Cobra just stares back at him with his fired up glare. “Humor me.”
Murayama narrows his eyes and grits his teeth, adding more force on his collar. “You owe me. I’ll let you walk out here unharmed, but…”
“…but?”
“Meet me at the outskirts tonight. You owe me this.”
Cobra’s expression doesn’t change at all for a few moments, and Murayama groans in annoyance.
“I’ll keep it a secret, I promise!”
Yeah, he’s not a kid, but Cobra definitely pulls that vulnerable side out of him. He waits, and waits a bit more, and then Cobra is kissing him again, rough and violent like the first time, and Murayama is kissing him back, struggling to keep himself from stripping him from his jacket.
Cobra pushes him back gently, and takes a deep breath. “Fine.” He mumbles, and then there’s that faint smile that’s really easy to miss, but Murayama never misses. And he lets go of him, trying to ignore the ridiculous “butterflies in the stomach” feeling he’s suddenly met with.
He can’t show how impatient he is so easily, after all.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
Fandom: HIGH & LOW
Pairing: Murayama Yoshiki/Cobra
Rating: PG-13
Genre: sort of angst, sort of romance
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot
Summary: Cobra is his favorite, even if he doesn't admit it.
A/N: I've been thinking about these two for a while and then my best friend also requested a fic with them, so...this happened XD
The Favorite
How many of them are lying around him, panting? Groaning in pain? Must be at least 20. Murayama loses interest in someone once they’re down on the floor; it’s not like he actually chose to fight this time.
His eyes sweep around the crowd that’s still standing, looking for an opening, a way out. He already hates the taste of blood in his mouth, even if he’s used to it by now. He has no idea who these people are, if they are from a gang around that area or just idiots who had too much free time in their hands. He has to give it to them, though; catching him off guard while he’s out on a walk alone is a smart move.
He spits the blood when it gets too much to handle and groan with a bored laughter. “Do we have to keep doing this, I really don’t have all day…”
One of them roars, and three more jump on him with their fists raised in the air. Murayama is fast to block the two of them, and he doesn’t really mind the kick he receives on his back, but then two more join, grab him and throw him around, dropping him on the ground. He coughs and shuts his eyes closed, just for a split second. Then he starts laughing again; they’re cowards, but they’re definitely fun enough…
The only problem is that he’s feeling the physical drain. It’s been pretty long since he had to face more than 10 people alone, and even though he’s not gonna pass out by the punches anytime soon, he still needs a few moments to take a breath. Moments he doesn’t have the luxury to enjoy. Those bastards definitely know who he is, even if he doesn’t.
“Dammit, which team did you brainless fuckers come from…” he lets out as he sits up slowly, but then he’s grabbed by the collar and forced up, only to be punched again. He groans and makes an effort to block the second punch. He succeeds, but his grip is now weak, and he only has his usual manic smile to scare or piss his opponents off.
There is a brief territorial struggle, and he’s quick to beat the next two that attack, but then someone kicks his leg from behind, and he’s down on his knees once more, panting heavily. Well, maybe it’s ok to stop being on the offense and turn into defense mode. He can take the punches, and then come back with his whole gang to get his revenge…
The pained moan he hears the next second is not his, and he’s 100% sure he’s not the one who has caused it, either. Lifting his eyes a bit, he barely has time to doge the body that tumbles down on him, and ends up on the dust next to him. Murayama raises one eyebrow before he turns to find out what has happened. The guys are now stepping backwards, whispering to each other in worry.
Soon, Murayama notices the sources of that panic, and despite his horrible state, he smirks.
“Cobra-chan…” he chirps, tilting his head as the one in question turns to look at him over his shoulder, only for a second before his focus is back on his opponent. Murayama wipes the blood from his lips on the back of his hand and tightens his bandana that’s about to fall loose. He makes an attempt to stand up; he fails.
Not that it matters, because Cobra has successfully managed to scare all of those who were still standing. Murayama forces himself up, punching his thighs lightly in the process.
“Not fair, why didn’t they run away from me too…” he almost pouts, even though he’s a tiny bit satisfied that things turned out this way. Maybe. It’s good that it’s Cobra out of all the other leaders. The only one who won’t make fun of him.
Cobra turns to him again with that distant, yet concerned expression. “You’re alive.”
Murayama frowns at that. “Just because I couldn’t find a great opportunity for a punch, doesn’t mean they can knock me out that easily. You forget who you’re talking to.”
“Sure.” Cobra mutters, looking at the mess Murayama has created. Murayama looks as well, because hey, he certainly likes what he sees. He’s done a great job, even though he had to cave afterwards.
His eyes are back on the leader now, at the way he’s once again looking uninterested by his surroundings. Like there’s nothing that can disturb his peace. Murayama is taking pride in the fact that he has been one of the few people who has managed to infuriate him in the past, to force him to show his wild side. In fact, he catches himself thinking about it way more often than he actually wants to.
“Any idea where these bastards are from?” he asks now, and Cobra spares another glance at him before he shrugs.
“Doubt, probably. They’re the only ones who would do this out of pure boredom. They probably thought of it as a big chance. I don’t really care.”
“You’re no fun.” Murayama clicks his tongue. He knows he’s the one who should be caring the most; now he owes Cobra, and that actually frustrates him, because he hates owing favors and all, especially to the other SWORD leaders.
Better Cobra than Rocky or Hyuga, though, that’s for sure.
“I hear Oya Koukou is rather calm these days.” Cobra comments after a few more moments of that awkward silence pass. “It’d be bad if you were in no state to keep them under control.”
“I’m touched.” Murayama snorts. “Cobra-chan, you didn’t have to save my ass if you didn’t want to.”
Cobra doesn’t reply to this. He doesn’t even scoff. Murayama is taken aback by the lack of reaction. Even if it’s Cobra, he still wouldn’t let this slip like that. He’s even more puzzled when Cobra gives him another weird look and then turns his back and starts walking away. Murayama makes another grimace and exhales deeply, scratching his head.
“And to think that you’re my favorite…” he mumbles between gritted teeth, unable to hide his disappointed expression.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………
He sees him again, a couple of times. Murayama has grown this habit of talking walks alone, trying to put his thoughts in order. It never really works, everything is a mess, like always. He hasn’t forgotten Cobra’s words, and how they helped him in his fight against Todoroki, but sometimes he wishes he could have more of those conversations. Cobra seems like he has everything figured out, like he has found the meaning of life. Murayama can’t be sure, but he certainly feels the sting of jealousy from time to time.
Maybe if he talked to him again…but it’s so unfortunate and inconvenient that Cobra is never alone. He sees him through the wire nets, just like in the past; sees him from afar, with the rest of his friends. Mostly listening, sometimes teasing Chiharu…he’s always the easiest target. One time, Murayama is sure he has grasped the hint of a smile, but mostly, Cobra is his usual quiet, indifferent, almost arrogant self.
Murayama is impulsive and thoughtless, and the few times he actually sits back to think of something seriously, he can’t help but feel lost. Cobra, on the other hand…thinking of his reserved face, his almost peaceful expression, Murayama can’t help but be torn inside. Torn between admiring that part of his and breaking it.
But the few times he’s seen him smile…
The last time he sees them from afar, Cobra actually spares a glimpse on him, and Murayama just stares back, unable to think of a right way to react. It doesn’t last long; Cobra returns his attention to Yamato, and Murayama just looks elsewhere, turning his back on them.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
Murayama hates owing people favors, even if that’s Cobra. He hates being chained down by obligations, and he doesn’t even want to think of what he will be asked to do. Not that Cobra ever mentioned that he’s gonna come back with a request or anything, but Murayama knows deep down that he’d do it if he was asked to. The only thing he wouldn’t do was something that could possibly harm his own people.
But Cobra is not the type to make stupid requests like that.
He sees them in the dark, still out on his own pointless walks; he can’t tell for sure, but they look like the guys who have beaten him up that day. They’re running, yelling “AFTER HIM!”, and Murayama raises an eyebrow in mild interest.
“Come back! Let us thank you for messing us up last time!”
Murayama moves almost against his own will, his legs acting on their own. He knows those streets, and he knows all the shortcuts, things those idiots are not even aware of. He knows that if someone is running from them, then he has no intention of fighting. His gut feeling keeps telling him it’s Cobra, although he can’t exactly find a reasonable explanation as to why Cobra would run away instead of fight. Nevertheless, he runs with all his might, as if he knows where the guy is heading.
But around that area, there’s only one place he could escape through the shortcuts.
He finds the warehouse relatively easy, and storms inside, looking around. The streets lights are shedding enough light through the broken windows, and Murayama only has to take a few more steps further inside, before he hears the panting. The familiar sound of someone trying to catch his breath after intense running. He heads there without hesitation and once he turns to the corner, he sees Cobra, crouched down on the ground, head leaned back on the wall, the corner of his lips bleeding.
He notices him before Murayama has the chance to let him know of his presence, and peers up at him with a weird look.
“What?”
“Cobra-chan, are you hiding? Need a helping hand?”
Cobra sighs, not really amused by the situation. Murayama rolls his eyes and then stretches his hand out, waiting.
“They were after you because you helped me, right?”
“So you recognized them as well.”
“It wasn’t that hard.”
Cobra remains immobile for a few moments, his eyes burning Murayama with their intense stare. Murayama feels his own cheekiness sliding down and away from his body, now looking at him clueless, and almost in anticipation.
Eventually, Cobra reaches out and holds his hand, and Murayama pulls him up, looking around with a troubled expression.
“I think it’d be ok to leave now. And if they find us, we can fend them off together.”
“Why are you even here?”
“I was just taking a walk. But hey, now I don’t owe you.” Murayama replies with a smirk, and Cobra just scoffs. He tries to yank his hand free, but Murayama frowns. “Stop being childish.”
“Says the actual child.”
“I’m not a child.”
Cobra just tries to break himself free again, and Murayama tightens his grip on his hand stubbornly, adding as much pressure as possible. Cobra hisses and raises his other hand to block him, but then Murayama shoves him against the wall, and eliminates the space between them, crashing their lips together.
He doesn’t know how. He knows why, he’s been feeling it in his system for quite some time now. Probably after that first fight, after he was beaten. But he’s still unable to say how he let himself lose control. He tastes the blood and senses the resistance, but only dives deeper, keeping Cobra pinned to the wall. Hands are on his clothes, pushing and pulling and dragging, and he knows he has to pull back, but then there’s a sound from Cobra’s side, and Murayama feels chills.
A grunt, and then Cobra’s hands are squeezing his elbows. Without a warning, Murayama is almost swept off his feet and then turned around, until his own back is facing the wall. He chokes and groans, breaking the kiss, but then there are fingers in his hair, pulling along with the fabric of his bandana, and Cobra’s mouth is the one covering his. There’s fighting with their tongues, and some really bad biting, and a bit of sucking, both of them too proud to just let the other one take control.
Murayama allows a soft moan to escape the back of his throat, his hands all over Cobra. The latter is kissing him so intensely that he’s not sure he’ll have a soul after this. Cobra moves a little bit to the side, getting a better angle, and Murayama only follows along, ravishing his mouth even more.
There’s a hand under his clothes now, and he shivers; Cobra’s hand is cold against his heated stomach that feels on fire, but he only uses his own hand to press it more there, another moan leaving him. Then there’s a groan of pleasure from Cobra as well, and they pull apart, staring at each other for a few seconds before kissing again.
It’s Murayama who has his hand in Cobra’s hair now, grabbing a fistful and pulling. His other hand is around his waist, keeping him close, pressed against his body. Cobra keeps kissing and touching hungrily, and he seems to have completely forgotten about his bruises.
After what feels like an eternity, they break apart again, and Murayama leans back, inhaling and exhaling loudly. He’s staring at Cobra’s lips, at the way they’re half-parted and a little bit swollen. Cobra is also panting, using him for support.
“Cobra-chan-“
“Out of here.” Is what he gets as an answer, and he bites on his lip, looking around. Cobra is not wrong, they do need to get out of here, but what exactly are they supposed to do after that?
He doesn’t actually ask that question, just helps him as they walk out of the warehouse. The others seem to have disappeared completely now, which practically gives them the chance to talk about it, but Cobra has switched back to his usual mask, and that is something Murayama doesn’t know how to handle.
“Will you be ok getting to your turf?” he asks. “Not that I’ll be thrilled to, but I can-“
He’s silenced by another rough kiss that takes him but surprise, but Cobra pulls away as fast as he initiated it. He averts his gaze and Murayama tilts his head.
“I can get there on my own.”
“Ok, but what about-“
“Not tonight.”
Murayama is still pretty innocent when it comes to stuff like that, but he doesn’t want to ruin whatever chance of them talking it out there is, so he just withdraws his hand reluctantly, and sighs.
“Whatever.”
He walks away as fast as he can, not daring look back. He doesn’t say a word to his own people, but stays awake all night. “Not tonight” means a million things, half of them unpleasant.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………
He doesn’t see or hear Cobra for the next couple of days. On the third day, he stops walking around on his own and just remains inside the school, lying down on his couch, staring at the ceiling. What is even the point?
On the fourth day, he hears uproar from the lower floors. When he’s about to sit up, a guy is punched inside and Cobra storms in, fuming. Murayama successfully sits up now, crossing his legs.
“Well, well…”
Cobra just keeps staring at him, until Murayama tells everyone to leave and let them alone to talk. Once the door is closed, he’s up on his feet again and grabs him by the collar, and Cobra allows himself to be shoved against the wall once more, not even blinking when Murayama’s mouth finds it way inches away from his.
“Asshole.” He growls. “Entering like that, what do you think I’ll do now that you hurt my own?”
Cobra just stares back at him with his fired up glare. “Humor me.”
Murayama narrows his eyes and grits his teeth, adding more force on his collar. “You owe me. I’ll let you walk out here unharmed, but…”
“…but?”
“Meet me at the outskirts tonight. You owe me this.”
Cobra’s expression doesn’t change at all for a few moments, and Murayama groans in annoyance.
“I’ll keep it a secret, I promise!”
Yeah, he’s not a kid, but Cobra definitely pulls that vulnerable side out of him. He waits, and waits a bit more, and then Cobra is kissing him again, rough and violent like the first time, and Murayama is kissing him back, struggling to keep himself from stripping him from his jacket.
Cobra pushes him back gently, and takes a deep breath. “Fine.” He mumbles, and then there’s that faint smile that’s really easy to miss, but Murayama never misses. And he lets go of him, trying to ignore the ridiculous “butterflies in the stomach” feeling he’s suddenly met with.
He can’t show how impatient he is so easily, after all.
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