UPDATED: We have a podfic reading for Furi's angry speech now: Check my AO3's counterpart of this story! (link in my profile) :O

—

the Sun and the Mole Rat

—

Akashi Seijuurou was like the sun; beautiful, radiant and infinitely unreachable. It was an impossibly stupid thing that someone like him could ever be compared to someone like Furihata Kouki, who was so ordinary in everything, nobody would look at him twice should he walk down the crowded streets.

They worked in the same building, Kouki was a junior associate in Finances from the 3rd floor and Akashi was the President Director who occupied the top level of the building, floor 50th. If the entire office mimicked an imaginative miniature universe, Akashi would have been God or Buddha, while Kouki, a mole rat digging adjacent tunnels beneath the earth. It boggled the mind that they were the same age.

They saw each other every morning in the lobby, yeah, but it was more like Kouki was a part of the squealing crowd (sans the squealing) on one side of the room, and Akashi was walking on the red carpet, followed by an army of secretaries and assistants — looking one hundred percent like royalty, or one of those religious ritual parade thing.

They met a long time ago, several times actually, during highschool basketball games. Kouki was pretty sure Akashi didn't remember him. Because duh, he was Akashi Seijuurou; basketball star, handsome, rich, smart, perfectly-mannered with overwhelming charisma even if he lapsed into scary mode sometimes — but hey, nobody was that perfect, right? Wrong. Because Akashi was so fucking perfect, if perfect existed and manifested into a person, Perfect would kneel and beg before those blood crimson — red hot and gorgeous — Emperor's Eyes.

He probably had a huge dick too.

The point was, Furihata Kouki was invisible.

Not in the way his highschool ex-teammate Kuroko was (the dude got invisible in basketball court, it was amazing — freaky — but amazing), he was invisible in general sense. In he-was-so-plain-and-average-people-forgot-his-name-and-face-most-of-the-time kind of way. He was that nice guy from the 3rd floor some remembered by name. But hey, it was all cool. He had a job with steady salary enough to pay the bills and his penchant for shonen manga — no girlfriend yet, no rush or anything — and he kept in touch with his highschool ex-teammates for occasional drinks and dinner.

Yeah, Kouki was a pretty average dude. Life was good.

So when Akashi came onto him for a fuck, he didn't exactly say no.

Or more like, he was too stunned to say no? Too shocked? Flabbergasted? He was pretty fucking dumbstruck at that time. Like big time, saucer-eyed, jaw-dropped, face fell, deer in headlights — hyperboles aside, he also didn't get enough time to think over the proposition, because he was too busy moaning and getting fucked hard against the walls and then on the rugs and on a table. It got real filthy, real quick.

Rug burns on his knees, elbows and one cheek later, all he could think of was yes, Akashi Seijuurou did have a pretty impressive-sized dick; Kouki's shaking knees and aching backside were testimony to his masculine prowess. On the way to work the next morning, someone whistled at Kouki for getting himself a lay well done. He had a hard time sitting through the office hours, but holy fucking geezus the sex was worth a thousand bucks.

Kouki would love to repeat the night on automatic, hopefully pronto.

Except, Akashi didn't remember anything.

More like, he didn't even look like he recognised Kouki when he was doing his God-Am-I morning routine. Which, hey, rude. Kouki knew he wasn't impressionable and people forgot his name a lot, but really? You'd think after you'd gotten fucked three times on three different locations, not to mention made to come on all of the three rounds, the guy who did the fucking would at least remember your face. Right? Right?

Wait, he could be wrong. Maybe Akashi had been drunk. He meant, low self-esteem aside, it totally made sense. Why would Akashi come to Kouki of all people? He was probably out of his mind, or — or that anyone by arms reach would do — convenience wise. Yeah, that really hit the logic hard. It was just a one time thing — a moment of madness sort of thing.

Well, no matter. He did get a great lay out of it. He could deal.

Except the same thing happened two more times.

The second one, it was a week after the incident and he had almost forgotten about it, because hey, work ain't gonna finish itself and sexual frustration could wait another day.

Kouki was doing overtime on Friday night, the office was mostly empty and the security guy usually came in around 11 P.M. for last minute patrol before the electricity was cut off for the night. So anyway, Kouki was working alone, the 3rd floor's staff had already gone home and he had to finish this finances report because some intern screwed it up — he'd prefer not to mess up his weekend outing plans, thank you very much — it was around 10.13 P.M., the office was dark and he had his eyes planted at the numbers on the computer screen.

Then all of a sudden, Akashi slammed the door open, made Kouki jump in his seat, strode past rows of cubicles all the way to where Kouki's was — meanwhile Kouki was blinking and gaping stupidly — then proceeded to flung him over the desk and sucked him off.

Totally at random and everything.

They fucked, by the way, for around thirty minutes and got two rounds in, over and against Kouki's desk — Kouki came three times and Akashi came twice — he also didn't get to finish the report that night.

And whoa, second time. What in the name of Almighty Lord of Sex just happened? Did Akashi get drunk again, two times in a week? Because that wasn't really healthy. Maybe it was the alcoholism thing or something else equally understandable, because — because there was no way that Akashi would have lacked in getting some. He meant — Akashi was a sex god, like really, really amazingly good at it. Great stamina. Great Dick. Honest-to-God great techniques. There was probably roughly one hundred ladies in this building alone who'd die to get into his pants.

So there he was, Furihata Kouki — average looks, meagre talents and one hundred percent biologically male — had just gotten screwed out of his brains against his office desk by Akashi Seijuurou, a.k.a. the Unreachable Sun, twice. Unless the Sun God had a habit of mating with mole rats on random occasions, this was just confusing.

Or, maybe he was unknowingly thrown into a world of Harlequin romance novel, where Akashi was a playboy billionaire philanthropist and Kouki was his totally average and innocent secretary — except this was way less romantic and way pornier and filthier — and you know, gay.

Yeah, right.

They said three time's the charm. And the third time was a confirmation that no, Kouki wasn't an unfortunate heroine to some cheesy novella universe and no, Akashi Seijuurou was most definitely not a secret alcoholic — he was just your friendly, loveable psycho.

Secret alcoholic would be the better option.

So, the third time. It was two weeks after the second incident, Kouki was still in denial — the 'Akashi is an alcoholic who'd fuck nearby people when drunk, which in this case, me' kind of denial — and it was a lazy Sunday morning. He didn't have plans other than to sleep in until noon and then maybe he'd go pester someone for late lunch. He was all cuddled up and cosy, buried in the warmth of thick blanket, when the door bell rang.

He had groaned, complained at the walls and kicked his blanket to wake up, vaguely remembering the pile of dirty laundry in the bathroom. He drowsily went over the tiny flat to the front door, scratched his exposed belly and yawned, then opened the door.

Akashi was there, standing by his threshold.

Kouki was in mid-yawn when he decided he'd gape instead, blinking as if Akashi would vanish like a daydream when he did so. Tough luck though.

"Good morning, Kouki. Did you miss me?" Akashi had said with that smooth, seductive voice and squinted his red eyes —

An old record screeched somewhere in the back of his mind, and Kouki's brain stopped dead — because something was fucking wrong there. Something was really, really wrong.

He knew Akashi. Hell, he'd worked for the guy's company for the past 3 years. He'd not only seen him every morning in the lobby's — he'd attended office parties, events, employee trainings where Akashi gave speeches and motivation talks — office ladies from Kouki's floor gossiped about him all the time, even had pictures plastered on the walls of their cubicles like some idol posters. How could he not have realised this much earlier?

Like how Akashi never called anyone by their first name. He did not speak in demeaning and arrogant way. He was friendly and non-abrasive, with perfectly practiced gentlemanly manners. He always smiled and not smirked and certainly not in this sexualised way. And — and —

And Akashi Seijuurou was supposed to have both eyes red. Not one red and the other, golden.

Fuck.

Jokes on him, because they did just that. Like, twice, at least. In his defence, Kouki hadn't gotten any since that last time in the office. He was frustrated, dammit, and sex with Akashi was to die for. You really couldn't blame him okay; he was officially addicted.

Post round two, the room had stunk of sex; clothes were thrown haphazardly across the room and the hallway outside. There were even two tied-up condoms lying on the floor. Kouki was on his bed in the nude, body exhausted and happily satisfied. Akashi had slipped into his pants and was putting on his expensive cashmere coat.

"I want to do this, more," Akashi told him, he had his back on Kouki. "I'll call you, soon."

And then he left. Just like that.

—

The next Monday morning at work, Akashi ignored him again — both of his eyes were back to a pair of normal red. No dichromatic red-golden whatsoever. No 'come hither' glances. No smirks. No signs of psychopathic stalker tendencies. So, Kouki did what came to his mind first — he took out his phone and dialled Kuroko's numbers.

—

So, there were two Akashi Seijuurous.

One who was Kouki's boss' boss — mild-mannered, perfect and unaware of Kouki's existence. And the Other Akashi; arrogant and abrasive with a Holier-than-Thou complex — whom Kouki casually had rough, passionate animal sex with sometimes. So, this was a split personality situation. Cool. Not psycho at all.

Kouki did not feel terrified out of his wits when he received anonymous text, claiming the sender'd come over to his place tonight. He had a baseball bat at the ready, just in case. One could never be too careful.

Except that was the Other Akashi who turned up for a night visit. You know, the one with dichromatic eyes and psycho stalker tendencies? The Sex God Akashi came to him for a night tryst — his mind would've been blown if this hadn't happened before. In fact, the first time he was pretty much blown away, three times.

Other Akashi had Kouki on his back with his legs spread wide, his wrists wrapped in a silk scarf and tied to the headboard of his bed. Unlike the other times when they fucked hard and fast like a couple of rabid bunnies, Other Akashi was enjoying himself with dragged out foreplay, teasing Kouki into halfway madness.

"Come on, give it to me!" He begged wantonly. He didn't care. It'd been a full week since they last screwed.

Other Akashi shushed him, his damnably skilful fingers fucking him all in the right places. But Kouki needed something else — something bigger and hotter. His cock was fully stiff and leaking with pre-come, he couldn't even touch himself with wrists detained. Other Akashi had been smirking smugly as he ran his other hand all over Kouki's trembling body, dichromatic eyes drank in his desperation.

"Patience," he had whispered against a nasty hickey on Kouki's neck. "and you shall be awarded, Kouki."

Goddamn, he never knew he could get so turned on by bondage. Other Akashi was dirty. Deliciously dirty. He looked exactly like the Perfect Akashi, which made it even better.

He knew this was wrong. Technically, they were going behind Perfect Akashi's back to do the dirty, but also not wrong because Other Akashi was also Akashi and — Kouki chose to stop all thinking process because that shit was complex and he was hard and tied up and just wanted Akashi to fuck him already.

"Come on, Akashi-kun," He had tried his best to enticingly shake his hips, arching his back for good measure. His entrance bumped against the head of Akashi's impressive-sized dick. "Fuck me, please?"

Other Akashi twisted his smug expression into seductive predation, then resumed to thrust into Kouki in a lovely pace.

—

So yeah, it had become a regular thing between Kouki and Other Akashi. They fucked about once a week at Kouki's.

Kouki still had no freaking idea why Other Akashi came onto him, now that he thought about it. But hey, the deed had been done, a lot of times, so he didn't make it a big deal or anything. It was just good sex, not some romantic crap spouted by corny shojo manga his female coworkers smuggled into the office.

No, no. Plain, average Kouki knew his place. Kouki was just a convenient — he took a minute to find the word — fuckbuddy, and Akashi would be displeased if he acted like one of those heartbroken, scorned mistresses. Ugh — Kouki shuddered — as if.

And Kouki still enjoyed all the sex, thank you very much. He was a hot-blooded young adult male and he had needs.

Yep, convenient fuckbuddy it was.

Except he started feeling guilty every time he saw Perfect Akashi at the hallway, followed by his army of adoring secretaries.

—

Other Akashi loved alternating between wild, rough sex and torturously slow, dragged out foreplay.

Four months into their fuckbuddy affair, Kouki got to know the things that really turned Akashi on. Like one time, Kouki was blowing him off, Akashi sat on the couch and Kouki was on the floor in between his knees. He had his hand clenching and unclenching at Kouki's hair, muttering whispered groans and moans that were melodious to Kouki's ears.

He was about to climax — reacted too late to warn Kouki — and he pushed the brunette off of his dick only a second before he exploded. Kouki was rewarded with strings of Akashi's cum all over his face that even got to his hair. Akashi had that look of total domination on his face as he stared down at Kouki, a victorious predation painted over his smirk. And Kouki — he loved that expression on Akashi.

And he just had to mention, that night's rough sex on the couch was even more intense than usual.

Also, Akashi loved to spank Kouki — had him on his knees with hands braced at the headboard, Kouki moaned and groaned as Akashi spanked his buttocks pink before he fucked him slow and thorough. He dragged his cock out until the head hit the rims of his entrance almost painfully, before he slammed it back in, balls-deep.

There were times when Akashi gave him pleasant surprises.

Such as rimming.

And whoa, Kouki didn't know that even the tongue was as talented as the rest of Akashi. They were doing sixty nine; Kouki was eagerly sucking on Akashi's cock and so did Akashi — until the redhead started lapping at his anus. And then Kouki was reduced to a goo of illicit moans and whines and whimpers as Akashi ate him out. Akashi dragged it out for so long, made him come once or twice from it, in the end Kouki was too sensitive and boneless to complain when Akashi slipped into him.

But of course, there were times when it became less than pleasant — like all things that weren't Akashi, imperfect.

Like one time, Kouki was depressed and had some bad days at work that week. They were just done with their routine; Akashi was putting on his coat before leaving just as he always did after they fucked — he never stayed. Kouki was in bed lying on his stomach, he was watching Akashi putting on clothes when suddenly he had this inexplicable urge to confide.

Yeah, that was stupid. Like really, really majorly stupid. His big mouth and him, both idiots.

Because the look on Akashi's face was — how would he put it? — disappointed? Appalled? Disgusted? It caused Kouki to stop in mid-sentence when he realised he'd made a mistake, then he quickly tried to remedy the situation by dismissing it as nothing. He could feel his heart started jumping in his ribcage.

Akashi said something (Kouki was too busy lamenting his stupidity) decidedly noncommittal, before he bade Kouki goodbye and left.

Because Other Akashi was everything Perfect Akashi was; beautiful, perfect and devilishly impeccable — everything, but sympathetic and understanding.

And Kouki was a fucking utter imbecile to have forgotten his place.

—

Clearly, they weren't lovers.

God no, Kouki couldn't even imagine it — they weren't even friends or acquaintances. As far as work went, Kouki was just a junior associate from the third floor. He'd have to get several promotions and climb up both the literal and metaphorical corporate ladders to be able to work under Akashi in fairly close proximity. Sure, they faced off in highschool Basketball games, but that hardly counted.

Again, with the Sun God and mole rats metaphor. Akashi was ultimately unreachable — Perfect Akashi, that was. Other Akashi was just an eccentric psycho who decided to bang him one day.

Even then, their relationship was only about great sex and great physical chemistry. It would never go anywhere. Hell, there wasn't even proper conversation ever, it was mostly him yapping with the usual oh yeahs, I love your cock, you're so big in me, fuck me, do it harder and come inside, cue the indecent moaning and groaning in the backgrounds. Yes, Furihata Kouki knew he was loud during sex and he wasn't ashamed of it. People loved responsive partners, okay.

Kouki was like a shiny new toy for Akashi to fuck every once in a while, until Kouki wasn't so shiny and new anymore. And then Other Akashi would most likely move on to pick someone else at random after he got sick of Kouki. Maybe he was just trying out guys, decided guys sucked, then he'd go back to girls.

After all, Kouki was just your average, plain dude with no redeeming quality whatsoever. He wasn't a keeper.

But he was fine.

"Furihata-kun, are you okay? You look… feverish." Kuroko said.

Oh yeah. Seirin reunion dinner with Kagami and Kuroko. He forgot where he was for a moment there — umm, a Japanese bar near the station, he guessed. What? He just had some drinks, no big deal. One… or two glasses… or three. Five. He couldn't remember. He was still totally fine and cool.

" 's fiiiinne. Get me more beer please, Kuroko?" He knew he slurred his sentence. He knew his movement was wild and unsteady. Who cares. He wanted to get drunk anyway. Fuck his shitty job. Fuck Akashi. Wait, he did just that like yesterday. But he was an asshole and Kouki hated him. Stupid Akashi and his stupid imperial insensitiveness stuck up his ass.

Kuroko looked concerned, the little sweetheart was holding him steady. He was so nice. And he smelled good. "I think you had enough, Furihata-kun."

Kouki took it all back. The traitor pushed out the beer out of Kouki's reach, the gall!

Kouki wailed and acted like a spoiled brat until Kagami showed up from the general direction of the public restroom. Kouki couldn't really tell, everything was kind of blurry and had like, weird clones in rainbow colours. It was funky and damn funny, so he laughed out loud.

"How was he?"

Hmmmhhmmm Kagami sounded almost worried. Was he really that drunk? Kouki felt sleepy.

"I think Furihata-kun is upset… he never drank so much usually. Perhaps it is something about work, or personal life. I do not want to pry, so I didn't ask."

The traitor, give him back the beers! He wanted the beers dammit. Needed to drown in sorrow. He must have said it all out loud, because Kuroko was talking like Kouki was in the room again.

"Furihata-kun, you had enough. No more drinking." He paused. "And traitor? Really?"

He sounded mildly annoyed, which was funny as hell. Kouki cackled. He felt happier and even sleepier, was it bedtime already?

"Oh God. Is he, is he snoring?"

"Furihata-kun? Can you — can you stand?"

Hmmm good night, Kuroko and Kagami. Hope you two get nice lays who aren't dismissive assholes. Kouki prayed for his friends from the bottom of his heart, keeled over and fell dead asleep.

—

The first thought when he woke up, was oow his head fucking hurt.

The light was blinding and rude and it was unnecessarily noisy and — wait where the heck was he? Because the bed felt way too comfy and plushy to be the rickety old thing that was his bed. And the smell was all wrong — lavender was for sissies. Kouki never used lavender-scented anything, because he was a man.

The damn light was too blinding though, so he'd be right at it in a few secs.

He was about to pull his shirt collar up his head for shade, when he realised he wasn't wearing any. His hands roamed all over his chest and he felt — he felt furry. What? Kouki squinted his overly sensitive eyes for a peek and found out he was wearing a bath robe. Kouki did not do bath robes. He had towels, the coarse and thin ones.

Okay, what.

That sobered him up somewhat.

He focused on ignoring the deafening buzz in his head, ugh he was never going near alcohol again, he swore. Which he knew he would disavow eventually, but right now he begrudged the aftermath. He was groaning for water as if someone would hear him there — as soon as he could tell where he was anyway — he fumbled with the sheets and struggled to sit at the edge of the bed, head ducked. He hated the lights. Why did lights even exist? Why did Kouki exist? Okay, his brain was stupid with hangover right now.

He heard a door clicked open somewhere across the room.

"Ah, good morning. It looks like you're awake already."

Kouki felt dejavu when he heard another old record screeched at the back of his mind, fuck, he thought, afraid of lifting his gaze.

Perfect Akashi had entered the room from a door that looked like an adjacent passage — oh yeah, he realised he was in a very expensive looking hotel room — and was sauntering in with a mug of coffee in one hand. Kouki felt like his brain had stopped functioning.

"I — I — what — umm… how. What."

Great, it seemed that he cracked the Speech Coherency side of his brain, too. He put to an abrupt halt on all thinking process when he realised he couldn't recall anything from last night, the last memory he had was of going out for dinner with Kuroko and Kagami, that and of being pissed off at Other Akashi. He didn't remember much after that.

Perfect Akashi offered him an explanatory smile. "Kuroko called me last night, it would seem you had one drink too many, he was very concerned about you."

Kouki gaped.

Oh shit. He didn't remember anything. What did he do when he was drunk? Did he accidentally tell Kuroko or Kagami about their affair? Did he tell Akashi? Kouki felt a rising panic swirling inside of his belly. Shit, shit shit shit shit. He might be in a truly deep shit.

Akashi seemed to translate Kouki's blanching complexion into another matter. "Don't worry, your possessions are in the wardrobes. I changed your clothes initially because it smelled like alcohol, please do forgive me for not asking for your permission. You were quite deeply asleep." He offered, sympathetic and understanding.

Kouki fidgeted in his seat because he wasn't used to this Akashi. Nice and well spoken and not sexual all over.

He idly imagined Other Akashi would have just dropped him by his flat, not purposely pay for a hotel room to — oh shit. This was suite, wasn't it? Kouki could never have afforded such luxury for no reason. Several months of salary would be gone just like that.

"Ah um, Akashi-san, about the hotel room's… fee…" He started, lips shaking and face paling.

Akashi seemed taken aback for some reasons. "Ah about that, I'm staying in the room next to this one. This one is my bodyguards', you see, but I told them to stay somewhere else for the night. You don't have to pay me anything, Furihata. It was a favour for Kuroko."

If smile could blind, Kouki would be blinded in joy.

"Then! Um, thank you very much." Kouki found himself saying.

Holy shit, he was actually in the same room alone with Perfect Akashi, he belatedly thought. He actually knew Kouki by name. Awesome. And did he hear right when Akashi said he'd changed his clothes? Kouki blushed at the thoughts that suddenly crossed his mind. Yeah, not happening, not with this Akashi anyway. He brushed off the filthy images.

Then he paused.

"Excuse me, could you tell me what time is it?" He asked Akashi, feeling a lump stuck in his throat.

"It's Monday, 9:35 A.M.."

Oh no. No no no no. He was going to be fucking late for work. He was already late because he went stupidly drunk on a Sunday and overslept.

With a jolt, Kouki stood up and dashed into the bathroom for a quick shower, muttering him being late for work to Akashi. As soon as he was done showering, he opened the wardrobe and put on his clothes, gathered his things and bowed deeply to Akashi in gratitude ("No, it is quite alright." Perfect Akashi had graciously said), then he bolted out of the room in a great hurry.

Later on, he managed to reach the office at a little past 11 A.M., thinking he'd get penalised. His boss had let him off because Akashi Seijuurou had personally phoned her to issue Kouki a special permit until noon — she was ecstatic about being called by Akashi, he might add.

Kouki couldn't forget how wonderful Perfect Akashi had been to him, even if it was all thanks to Kuroko.

—

He heard a click from the other side.

"Kuroko Tetsuya speaking, how can I help you, Furihata-kun?"

"Kuroko, what did I do last night after I got drunk?"

A pause.

"I called Akashi-kun for help, I remembered he told me he was staying at nearby hotel. Kagami-kun and I didn't know where you live, Furihata-kun, and Akashi-kun has a car."

Figures, he'd never invited them over before.

"Yeah I know. But what exactly did I do, like, when I was out of it? Did I… did I say something weird or do anything out of ordinary?"

More pause. Longer than the previous one.

Kouki was getting fidgety.

"Well, Furihata-kun…" Kuroko started. "You did… hug Akashi-kun."

"I did what!?"

"I'm not sure, but you were very drunk. When Akashi-kun arrived on the scene, you acted very… familiarly? You started to fling your arms around Akashi-kun's neck and hugged him. How do I say this? You don't usually hug strangers when you're drunk. Akashi-kun was surprised."

Oh, motherfucker. Holy hookers and strip poles and their pimps.

"Did I… did I mention anything?" Stupid. He did not want to dig himself a deeper —

"You sort of called Akashi-kun by his first name and then — "

Kouki abruptly ended the call. He'd apologise to Kuroko later, but right now he'd very much liked to look for a hole where he could crawl in and die.

—

From that day on, Akashi would give Kouki a nod and a smile every time they saw each other, especially during Akashi's ritual parade routine. That led to jealous stares and loud squeals from female coworkers, but Kouki was too happy and elevated to let anything else ruin the day.

He hoped Akashi'd forget the disastrous drunken episode as soon as possible, though.

—

On Thursday night, Other Akashi came to visit.

Which was unusual, because they had their 'routine' on Saturdays, it was an unspoken rule between the two of them.

"Kouki." Akashi had stood by the threshold of his apartment. It was a cold evening and the news scheduled that there would be typhoon that night — Kouki didn't understand. Akashi wasn't supposed to be there, he wouldn't be able to return home in time if he did.

"Akashi, what are you doing? Tonight is —" Kouki had felt a mild panic in his guts.

"I know. But I am here, am I not?" Akashi had given him a knowing smirk — which only further confused him. "Would you not show me inside, like you always do, Kouki?"

"But — but… why?" He didn't know why, he just needed to ask. His irritation for the redhead still nudged at the back of his mind, but he pushed it away. He couldn't exactly refuse people when there was a storm brewing right outside.

Akashi paused for a bit, dichromatic eyes baring down at him. Kouki saw emotions he never saw before, swirling within those mismatched orbs.

"Because I need to see you. I came for you, Kouki."

Kouki was stunned when Akashi wrapped his arms around him.

The sex was different from all of the other times.

It was slow, steady and unhurried. If all the sex they had before was to derive as much pleasure from each other as they could, or to test their mettles and endurance with endless teasing, this sex was so… vanilla. So ordinary. Kouki was straddling Akashi, legs wrapped around his waist. Akashi's hands were loose around Kouki's body, their erections rubbing against each other. They moved in languid motion, enjoying every bit of warmth and comfort they shared.

And whoa, they were actually kissing. There was never any kissing before. Ever. Kouki had thought it was because Akashi disliked it. Clearly, it wasn't because he was lacking any skill, because Akashi's kisses were so, so fine and sensual and just perfect. It made him dumb and dreamy, that was how good they were.

"Hmmm, 'ike kisses," Kouki murmured against Akashi's soft lips, and the redhead laughed against his in response. It felt so nice.

"I'll give you more, Kouki. As many as you want." Akashi's voice was gentle, loving.

He brushed a wild strand away from Kouki's face, staring at him with those dichromatic eyes as if Kouki was the most important person in the world. Like this… wasn't just a casual fling. Like there could be more to this. As if Kouki could have more of Akashi.

They rubbed their erections together, leisurely taking pleasure, bit by bit. It wasn't rough and it wasn't fast, there wasn't intense passion, but Kouki loved it. Loved every minute of it. Loved how right Akashi's sweat-slicked body glided perfectly against his, like they were made out of the same mould — ridiculous, he knew, his mind was just stupid with kisses and gentle sex.

The storm outside was brewing with rumbles of thunders and the sound of rain hitting the grounds, the chill of the air went unnoticed with their shared body heat.

"Kouki, I must apologise for what I did the other day," Akashi softly said, gaze shone with a sort of gentleness. "You were upset, weren't you? I am sorry. I should have been more attentive. I should've held you like this, that night."

And it made him want to cry.

Kouki ducked and pressed his forehead against Akashi's shoulder, so the redhead wouldn't see the tears pricking in his eyes. He sneaked his arm under Akashi's and clung to him closer — as if his life would expire right at that moment, if he didn't.

"It's okay," His tone slid to a whimper, breaking at the tip. "You're here, so it's okay. I'm okay."

It was strange how honest he was being, and it was an even more of a shock of how dependant of Akashi he'd become. He knew he shouldn't — must be stopping this right away. But he couldn't right now, didn't want to. His heart was so full of Akashi's affection, and his body brimmed with their warmth. He just wanted to enjoy what they had now.

The world outside be damned — this room was a tiny, miniature universe where only both of them existed. A world where the Sun God would look at the weak, little rat and would love him for a time.

—

Kouki knew he was falling hard.

Denial, denial and more denial had become some sort of defence mechanism for him, and he knew it.

He was fidgety and dazed off one too many times at the office — which had set off a string of unfortunate accidents involving the copier machine and mechanical pencils — yet he somehow managed to wriggle himself out of the blame, like he had the devil's own luck. Which was cool and highly unusual — he should've taken pictures.

Anyway, he was depressed, happy, mortified and dreamy. It was a weird cocktail of emotions blended together in a form of one Furihata Kouki, average man extraordinaire, currently engaged in a split personality situation — not his personality per se, but the guy he had casual fuck with — or more like, he had an ongoing thing with one of the personalities, while the other personality hadn't a lick of idea what the hell was going on.

And Kouki was falling — he nearly hyperventilated at this — in love with the personality he was having affair with.

Oh, the drama.

So many things could go wrong in this dysfunctional relationship since its beginning, and he really didn't need to start having feelings about it.

That night when Other Akashi had stayed over had felt like a dream. The sex wasn't just a casual fuck — they were making love. Oh God, did he just use the words making love? His skins should've pricked with goose bumps at such a corny line, yet he couldn't help but to blush instead.

The morning after was probably the happiest Kouki had felt in a long time, waking up to a sleeping Akashi, limbs tangled with each other's under the blanket. He had been just as handsome and adorable as Kouki had pictured in his mind; chin rough with red morning stubbles, slight bed hair and slightly parted lips —

Jesus Christ, what was he, a lovestruck teenage schoolgirl?

Kouki really, really needed to stop. This wouldn't end well — it couldn't have. There was simply no chance.

He also needed so very badly to talk to someone — dealing with these … feelings alone was eating him up alive. But he couldn't just tell anyone. It could've ruined Akashi's reputation, especially since the main personality didn't even know anything. Kouki just couldn't do that to such a good person. Their affairs must never be known to public. But Kouki needed — he needed someone who would just listen and not judge him.

Oh if only life would just be so easy, Kouki depressively thought as he walked towards the coffee room, wanting to wallow in his despair alone.

His devil's luck had unfortunately run out because the machine broke. So he had to go all the way down to the first floor for a lousy cup of coffee, Kouki didn't feel like going back to his cubicle, so he caught up with the elevator anyway.

It was just before lunch time, so first floor's coffee room was empty. Kouki was cheering up with the prospect of using the brand new Cappucino Maker they got on display, when someone tapped his shoulder lightly then he jumped out of his skin and almost spilt coffee all over himself — key word being almost.

"I didn't mean to surprise you, Furihata. Are you alright?" A concerned voice had asked him

Oh no. He really did run his luck out of stock when he escaped blames — because today of all days, he just had to bump shoulders with Perfect Akashi. In an empty coffee room no less.

"I — ah umm, I mean — I " What was it about this Akashi that made his brain go dumb? He hadn't tried getting into Kouki's pants or anything. Okay, if his brain could start doing the thinking properly instead of his dick, that would be great.

He inhaled first, "I mean, I am alright Akashi-san. Please, don't worry about it. No harm's done." Yes, perfectly calm. Good.

Perfect Akashi had laughed. It must've been his pleasant voice that was making other people dumb. Because whoa. "Ah, good. I was just going to say hi because I saw you entering the room."

"Uh yeah, the coffee maker in our floor broke, so…. yeah." As if Kouki couldn't sound more stupid.

"Is that so…? I'll be sure to arrange a technician to take a look." Akashi had said thoughtfully.

"Oh yeah? That'll be awesome. Thanks."

"No problem." Akashi smiled politely.

Kouki was feeling super conflicted, Akashi's face was both the first and the last thing he wanted to see right there and then, with his complex situation dawning on him as if it weighted a ton. He couldn't look straight at him and not feel the guilt gnawing at his conscience. He slept with Akashi a lot of times and Akashi didn't even know — did this count as rape? The thought mortified him.

"So… uuh, I'm gonna go back upstairs, now." He had said lamely.

"Ah, don't let me keep you then. See you, Furihata."

Furihata. Akashi had called him. He wanted to hear him say Kouki. He wanted to hear his name called with affection, rather than cold politeness.

He bowed to his superior and left the room, full of contradicting emotions.

—

Nothing changed. Their routine continued.

Except Other Akashi had become more affectionate and gentler, and he was staying longer and longer at Kouki's than he had before, even if he'd still leave in the morning. He held Kouki close in the aftermath of sex, cradling the brunette as he whispered things that made Kouki blush. They shared kisses more, the gentle chaste ones and the sensual, seductive ones. Akashi would look at him in such a way that Kouki thought he might love him back. His heart soared with hopes and dreams.

Kouki was happy. So, so unbelievably happy, he was afraid he'd woke up the next morning with a different reality — that this might have been a dream all along. But it wasn't. When he woke up, Akashi was sleeping soundly next to him, and it made him feel even happier.

He was so drunk in this bliss, he didn't care about anything else. Didn't care about how this would ruin Akashi's reputation. Didn't care how wrong the nature of this relationship was. Didn't care just how badly this could end. This room was their universe and they were the masters. And Kouki was so irreversibly in love.

—

This week they wouldn't be able to meet, because apparently there was a huge office party on the weekend, sponsored by the Akashi corp., everybody was invited.

Barely anyone knew what was the fuss all about though, because the company's anniversary party would be in another three months. Some claimed it was an awards event for the company's top achievers, some said it was to celebrate the President's birthday — the latter totally missed the fact of course. Anyway, attendance was mandatory, so he couldn't skip — Akashi would most definitely attend the party anyway, so there wasn't a point.

Formal attire, also mandatory. His best suit had a hole in it last time he checked, so Kouki had to go shopping for another one. He wished he could've invited Akashi, because the redhead always dressed so well. But the image of Akashi going shopping with him was weird, he'd laughed good-naturedly at that.

Or he could just buy an identical suit with the one he already had. Hmm, that could totally work.

—

The party was a lavish, outrageous affair, because the company had apparently rented the whole ballroom of the Four Seasons Hotel. It was like stepping into a fantasy world. The ballroom's interior was decorated in French Baroque style, with delicate paintings and rows of carved marble — all very noble and expensive looking. The catering provided overflowing stock of quality food and wine that could feed all five hundred employees and then some. The atmosphere was almost dream-like.

Kouki had felt it was a tad too excessive for an office celebration affair — even their company anniversary wasn't anything compared to this event's lavishness. Something big would happen, and he wasn't the only one who thought that way — there had been conspiratorial gossips across the halls.

When he bumped onto Kuroko and Kagami, his suspicions turned darker.

"Kuroko? Kagami? What are you two doing here?" To say he was surprised to meet them, was an understatement.

"Good evening, Furihata-kun." Kuroko had greeted for the both of them, Kagami trailed behind him with a plate full with piles of food. "Akashi-kun sent an invitation for us to join the celebration."

"The celebration? You know what's going on here?"

Something Akashi told Kuroko and Kagami but didn't bother to tell his employees?

Kuroko stared at him with slightly widened eyes. "You don't know, Furihata-kun? Akashi-kun has also invited the rest of our ex-teammates and his Rakuzan ex-teammates, as well. I thought everybody knows."

That meant Teikou's Generation of Miracles were here as well, and Akashi's Rakuzan ex-players. That bit of information formed a pitch black lump within Kouki's gut. He had a bad feeling. A dark shadow of nausea risen to his chest, he didn't like all this secrecy.

The bad feeling persisted, only intensified as the event dragged on. The dark swirl in the pit of his stomach grew severe and cruel, Kouki wanted to excuse himself to the restroom. But he couldn't, not until the party's main event speech had finished. He had to hold himself back and soldier on.

A while later, the room's lights were turned off, save for spotlights for the main stage; the announcer soon asked for attention. The ballroom grew quiet. Kouki was struggling against these intuitions as he watched the event unfolded, eager for it to be over with. He didn't really pay attention to what the MC was saying, but his attention was brusquely pulled to full awareness, when Akashi stepped into the main stage — next to him was an unknown blonde lady, whose hand was delicately held by Akashi. She was beautiful and looked as noble as he.

Kouki's felt his heart stopped dead.

Even after the MC announced a celebration of engagement — he hadn't understood. And Akashi, his Akashi smiled as he held the woman's hand and slipped a ring — with a large blue gem that shone in the spotlight — into her beautifully manicured finger. Kouki felt like the ground had crumbled beneath him and that he was about to be swallowed into the depths of the earth. Perhaps it would've been much better were it to really happen.

Instead, he fell into the deepest, darkest pit of despair.

Engaged to be married. Married. Akashi is getting married. Akashi is —

His mind repeated those words on automatic, like a broken radio. He could feel a large hole opening up on the surface of his beating heart and he was rendered hollow with a gaping, bleeding wound.

Kouki couldn't breathe. He couldn't see. Everything was blurry. And it hurt so much.

"Furihata-kun? Are you… alright…?" Kuroko's calls sounded so far away and detached. He sounded shocked. How funny. Kuroko was always such a poker face. Always had his emotions under control — Kouki was jealous. Something terrible must have happened to cause the mask to slip —

"Furihata-kun… you… you're crying."

… … ah, so he did.

He didn't bother responding to Kuroko. Kouki simply turned on his back, slipped into a throng of gasping crowd and vanished.

—

Kouki didn't remember how he'd gotten back to his apartment.

He remembered riding a train, and that was enough thinking for now. He was dumbstruck. Everything happened too fast — Akashi was engaged to a woman and his love crashed and burned like he knew it would. The worst thing about this whole affair was? That he knew the ugly, destructive end would come, all along. And yet still, he went and fell stupidly in love, with a man, who most likely only fooled around with him until he could cinch an equally rich and powerful young consort-to-be, as his official fiancé.

Haha. He didn't even bother to break up with Kouki directly. He just had to throw a freaking engagement party into his face. Or did he think to make Kouki a mistress he'd fuck on the side?

Kouki wanted to laugh.

He was pathetic. Caught in a trap and fooled into thinking it was genuine love — it might as well be, but it was one-sided and unrequited, so what was the point? Akashi was blissfully unaware of the whole affair himself. It was so funny, he could laugh until tears flowed out of his tear sockets like a broken tap.

He must be doing just that now, because his face was wet, liquid continuously dripping down his jaw and pooling on the wooden floor.

It was fucking hilarious.

Ladies and gentlemen, Furihata Kouki, a plain and average man, heartbroken beyond repair.

—

He didn't want to be alone.

It was too much, too painful for him to deal by himself. So when his phone buzzed and Kuroko's name flashed on the screen, he'd picked up the call and cried. He must've sounded pitiful and miserable, as he sobbed uncontrollably on the phone, and Kuroko only listened quietly to his broken words and incomprehensible sentences. He was being kind and understanding — and somehow it made Kouki cried even harder.

After he had released the worst of his sorrows — and his wails had slipped into soft whimpers — Kuroko asked for his address and told him he was coming over to pick him up. Kouki obliged and gave up willingly. When he went to the bathroom to wash his face, he saw in the mirror that his eyes had swelled twice its normal size, red and sensitive and sore. He shrugged and washed his face with cold water, before he stripped the wrinkled suit off — eager to be rid of it.

In daze, Kouki pulled out a large duffel bag from underneath his bed and he started stuffing it full with clothes, underwear, toiletries, his bank book and some of his work stuff. He didn't own a lot — his flat was small and cheap after all. His hands stopped when he saw a couple of Akashi's shirts in his closet, from when he had stayed over; freshly laundered and neatly hung on the hangers. Kouki bit his lips and slammed the wardrobe door close, his hands and shoulders were shaking like leaves blown by the wind.

And then he waited.

The minutes were cruel and Kouki grew resentful the more time he spent in that room. It held too many memories, smelled too much like him. He hated it so much, hated the way it made him remember the memories that were carved into the marrows of his bones, knowing it was all deception and sweet lies. He wanted to leave, the sooner the better. He entertained the idea of moving out to another place, anywhere would've been better than this.

A broken world was something he did not need.

Kouki couldn't stand it anymore so he decided to wait for Kuroko outside — freezing be damned.

—

It turned out Kuroko had an empty bedroom available, since Kagami slept in Kuroko's room anyway — so he'd offered Kouki to rent the room.

Kagami didn't seem to mind and he cooked some mean meals. It was a wonder that Kuroko hadn't gained weight yet. Kouki was grateful they'd let him stayed over at their place — he offered to pay for the food and lodging, which prompted the rent offer. Kouki felt bad for intruding on Kagami and Kuroko's life, so he'd told them he'd think it over first.

Even after a few days, he hadn't told Kuroko and Kagami anything. They didn't pry when he came into their household inconsolably upset, and they just quietly accepted him.

He still went to work, of course, going out of his way to avoid Akashi and all subjects of conversation about him as much as he could. Since the day of the party, his phone had been buzzing nonstop at night, there had been numerous missed calls and texts from Akashi that he'd ignored on purpose. He knew he couldn't avoid him forever, however. Eventually, they would bump onto each other — and if he were to meet Perfect Akashi, oblivious and blissfully engaged — Kouki didn't know what he'd do. He didn't think he could handle it.

On his way back to Kuroko and Kagami's place, Kouki stood by a bridge overseeing a river. The water flowed harshly beneath the bridge and looked deep enough to drown in. Kouki observed silently. He took out his phone from his breast pocket, held it out by arms reach and let go. He watched as the phone hit the surface of the cold water with a dull splash and disappeared into the speedy current.

The next day, he arranged for the cancelation of the lease and signed a new one — instead of renting Kuroko's place, he rented out a room two floors below theirs, a small 1LDK was enough for him. The same day, he went to get the last of his stuff — he contemplated what he'd do with Akashi's things and decided to put them into a cardboard box, intending to never open it again.

Kouki also started looking for vacancies in other companies. He'd sent out resumes and CVs, and hoped for the best.

—

Two months later, Kouki felt like he'd started picking up the broken pieces. He got a new place, a new phone and was on a process of nailing a new job — everything was good. He was building a new life from scratch. He had been spending a lot of time over at Kuroko and Kagami's. Those two were so domestic — Kouki couldn't help but to envy what they had. Anyone would have. He wanted that too, once.

He shrugged off the thoughts of Akashi and ignored the clench in his chest, as he resumed enjoying Kagami's homemade burgers.

—

Three months after the engagement party, he told Kuroko and Kagami everything.

He felt like after all they'd done for him, Kouki owed them proper explanation. They had quietly listened to his story from start to finish, allowing Kouki to freely confided to them without feeling judged. Kouki choked up at the latter part and was overwhelmed — and they had been understanding and supportive. This gave him the courage to soldier on.

As soon as he'd finished, they both wore an identical contemplative look on their faces.

"I had suspected something like that may have happened, but… I didn't know it was so complicated." Kuroko had said.

"So, two Akashis huh, feel like I can't blame you, though," Kagami added.

"I mean, you didn't make the first move, right? Akashi — well, the Other Akashi did. But the way he broke it off was brutal. That was awful, dude. I'm sorry." He scratched the back of his head, creases between his eyebrows.

Kuroko nodded. "I also do not agree with Akashi-kun's methods. He could not be so oblivious to wash his hands off of this matter so easily. It is simply, atrocious, what he did to you, Furihata-kun … however,"

He paused, looked at Furihata calmly and continued. "However, I wish you'd told us earlier, Furihata-kun. Before it ended, I mean, I wish you had said something. This matter was not something you could have handled alone, you must have felt so confused. I wish I could've helped you."

Kouki couldn't say anything.

For the first time after months of grief and heartbreak, of lone struggles and wordless fights… Kouki broke down and cried. He cried worse than he did after that disastrous party. He had released all that had weighted down his shoulders and it felt — it felt liberating. He was finally free. His friends stayed by his side as he cried his heart out, and it was more than Kouki could ask.

—

Five months after, Kouki was doing well for himself.

He had a good job, good friends and a good place to live. He had let go of all the unnecessary burden, and now he felt lighter and happier.

Even if he still couldn't forget of a certain redheaded man, who was as beautiful and unreachable as the sun, but if time healed wounds, Kouki would forget in time too.

—

Six months after, Kouki was on his way home from work.

It was raining rather heavily — well, it was raining season, so it couldn't be helped. But Kouki had stupidly forgotten to bring his umbrella today, so he was forced to stand by a store for shade. The fabric around his coat's shoulder blades and hem of the trousers were soaked partially. He waited until the downpour reduced into something bearable — which took quite a while, around twenty minutes. It was much lighter than before, but not enough to avoid drenching his coat further, so he waited some more.

He watched the soaked streets and people scampered around with their bags over their heads. Some were striding along leisurely with the protection of their umbrellas. The rain caused traffic jam due to slippery roads, and the cars were packed into tight rows with bare gaps separating them. The noises that were drowned by the downpour, rose to activity and the city was lively once more. Rush hour during a rainy day was the worst.

Even expensive cars couldn't get away from traffic jams — Kouki idly thought — especially that conspicuous looking vibrant red Benz from across the streets, it was thoroughly soaked and caught in a slow traffic line. The red Benz's passenger door clicked open and Kouki had thought that the owner must have wanted to switch to subway or something —

He felt a lump caught in his throat when he saw a familiar head of red hair.

It was as if the earth slowed down, sounds reduced to nothing and the world lost its colours — and only the two of them existed in this universe— the rest of the world turned black and white and noiseless, and everything else but them was just simply insignificant.

Because those red eyes were looking at Kouki, lacking the one colour Kouki realised he would trade anything in order to see — to meet him again. And nothing else was more important. The face he missed so much twisted into a myriad of different emotions, before it hardened into a singular expression that was decidedly intense— eyes still looking straight at Kouki — his lips parted stiffly and he yelled — and Kouki found himself unable to breathe because he had wanted to hear his voice so badly —

"KOUKI!"

Snapped from a daze, the world was filled with colours and bustling noises again, and Akashi — Akashi was running towards Kouki. He suddenly couldn't find the nerves nor the energy to move — Akashi. Akashi was there. In the flesh. His mind was flaring with delight, Akashi's name made blaring noises within the cranium of his head. But that soon fell to dread, as soon as he remembered of shattered heart and broken dreams and pieces of himself that took too long to form anew —

At the pivotal moment, Kouki finally found the strength to move and tried to run — but he was seconds too late.

Akashi had caught a hold on his forearm as he turned on his heels, and before he could react, another grip encircled his other forearm.

Akashi Seijuurou gasped for breath as he turned Kouki to him, red eyes bearing down on him. "Please wait, Kouki, " his tone was oddly subdued. "Please. Don't — don't leave. Would you— would you please listen to me? I just want to talk."

They had bystanders staring at them, Kouki noticed. It would be bad to stay in this situation for too long. But Akashi didn't seem to care, he had a death grip on Kouki and didn't look like he planned to let go soon. The decision fell on the brunette — and this situation was ridiculous and absurd to begin with.

"Alright. But we have to move somewhere else." Kouki finally said, glancing at the crowd of watchers. He avoided looking at Akashi. "And could you let go? My arms hurt."

"I — I apologise. I didn't mean to hurt you. Let's — let's go to my car, first."

Akashi loosened his grip, but one hand stayed at Kouki's arm loosely, as if Kouki would just vanish without a trace if he let go completely. With a gentle tug, Akashi led them both into his car — all the while they ignored the curious stares trained on them. The rain poured over them, the cold wetness forced Kouki to realise how real this was. How real Akashi was and how warm his hand that gripped him, or how his red hair darkened by a shade when it was damp. Stupid, inconsequential things like that filled his head.

They entered the red Benz in silence — Akashi insisted Kouki enter first. They were making the seat wet. Actually, Kouki was already damn soaked before and now he was halfway drenched, he shivered slightly. Akashi settled himself next to Kouki, looking oddly nervous and unsure. He reached over and pulled out a hand towel from the back of the passenger seat, then he offered it to Kouki. He had another one in his other hand, presumably for himself.

"Thanks." Kouki found himself saying, he was strangely calm.

He towelled some of the moisture from his hair, feeling like a wet rat when he realised it was probably better to take off his coat. He needed to put it in the laundry for dry clean. Kouki occupied his mind with irrelevant things like household chores, because the silence was deafening and awkward. Akashi kept tossing him glances and fidgeted in his seat, his warm grip had gone but his concern remained.

Kouki didn't know what to expect. It had been months, almost half a year since they last saw each other. And despite how he felt, he was doing well for himself, building a new life without having to think about the redhead. Akashi never sought him out — sure it was Kouki who had one-sidedly cut off all contacts and moved out on his own, but with Akashi's money and power, it would've been easy enough to find where Kouki lived and worked. Well, if Other Akashi had cared enough. Apparently he didn't, and it was a reality Kouki had come to accept.

"You called me Kouki," He muttered, in a belated realisation. He turned his gaze at the redhead next to him. "The Other Akashi called me Kouki, why did you…?"

Two red eyes, he checked. This wasn't the Akashi he knew.

Akashi returned his gaze. "We'll talk about this at my place, I need — I need to explain everything to you."

So they went quietly.

Akashi's apartment was located at downtown Tokyo, on the 38th floor of an elite housing area, it was a penthouse that stretched for the entire floor of the building — tastefully furnished in ivory white and red furniture accents. It was a luxurious bachelor pad that suited someone like Akashi. It was funny. Kouki had always wondered how Akashi's place would look like, because Akashi always came over to his — he even dreamt of it at some point, Akashi inviting Kouki for a night at his place, the two of them making love on Akashi's bed. It was… a good dream.

Now, after all had been done and over with for months, he caught a glimpse of the dream again. Kouki really needed to stop.

As Kouki stripped off his coat — the inside was thankfully dry and untouched — Akashi offered him the sofa and politely asked Kouki to wait until he changed clothes. Kouki refused the offer for drinks, he didn't want to be too comfortable; he only agreed to come for a talk.

A few minutes later, Akashi came back, clad in jeans and sweater. He sat across of Kouki, one fist overlapped the other on his knees. His features were twisted in uncertainty and slight anxiety.

Kouki waited.

"Kouki, listen, I — I have a condition. Only my closest friends knew of it. You have known this, of course, I have multiple personality disorder. You've met him — my other personality. " Akashi started.

Kouki paused, before nodding briefly.

Akashi cleared his throat. "He was born during my time in Teikou. I won't bore you with the details — but you could say he was born because once, I had been an insecure child who was afraid of the pressure of life that came with being an Akashi heir. He was the Akashi Seijuurou you met during the Winter Cup on our first year of highschool, do you remember? He was rude, wasn't he? I apologise, for him."

So Akashi remembered Kouki from that time long ago, Kouki found himself thinking.

Akashi continued.

"I regained my own consciousness during the latter part of the game with Seirin. At that time, I thought 'he' disappeared for good. I — My feelings for him, is more than a bit complex. He was a part of me that was lying dormant somewhere within my psyche. In a psychological sense, he was my coping mechanism for all the hardships I experienced since childhood. A while after he emerged, I realised I could've regained my consciousness anytime I wanted, but I did not want him to disappear. He was like a little brother I never had, especially — especially since I lost my mother at an early age. My father and I are not close. Simply put, I didn't want to be alone. So I gave my life to him, for a time."

Kouki stared at Akashi, eyes widened slowly. "I'm sorry," His mouthed. Akashi only smiled and waved a hand in a gentle dismissal.

"I told you, I felt he had vanished from the depths of my psyche since the Winter Cup, and I mourned for the loss of my brother. I moved on with my life, as the only Akashi Seijuurou left." He paused and inhaled.

"And yet… many months ago, I could feel that he had resurfaced again. I had blackouts and there were holes in my memory, one time I last remembered that I was in my office, and the next moment I was back at home. I couldn't remember what I did, or where I had gone to. This had happened over and over again. There were only lingering feelings — sensations leftover from the times he took over my body, and then I knew for sure. I was happy with his return, so I didn't try to stop him. And I — "

Akashi had a blush painted over his features as he glanced at Kouki almost shyly. "I — I only became aware of what had occurred in these recent months. I had… dreams and images of memories of — of our time together. I tried to… to look for you since, but you moved out and quit your job. I didn't have a chance to tell you."

It took a few seconds for Kouki to digest what it meant.

"…. oh, I…I see." He felt heat rush up to his face too, and Kouki lowered his gaze, suddenly developing a keen interest on the coffee table.

Akashi's gaze was steady and unfaltering as he looked at the brunette.

"Kouki, did you love him? Did you love — me?"

Kouki's attention was pulled up with snap.

"What? I — "

Dichromatic eyes stared at him. The Other Akashi was sitting across of him, all of his senses bearing down on him. Kouki gaped like a fish and his mind froze.

"Why did you run away, Kouki? Why did you leave me?" Other Akashi asked, tone stern and vivid. Expression cold and unreadable. Kouki was suddenly out of breath.

Then he began feeling seething anger slowly risen up his nerves. How dare he, he resentfully thought. After all this time, how dare he claimed that Kouki left him!

"I didn't — you were — you're getting married! How am I supposed to — " Kouki stood up abruptly, throwing an accusing glare at the redhead.

He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself.

"You never said anything. We never made promises." He started, more calmly. Still glaring.

"Our… relationship was based on sex and physical chemistry. We didn't exactly talk — no, we fucked. We fucked like rabbits on Saturdays and that was the only genuine promise we ever made. You approached me, and I — I admit it made me happy that you chose me so I went along with it. And then… and then against my better judgement, I started having feelings for you. Even though I knew I shouldn't have any expectation. Even though I knew it would end sooner or later. You — the main personality Akashi didn't even know about our affair for god's sake — how was I supposed to have expectations? Our situation was goddamn abnormal!"

He was screaming, Kouki knew, but he didn't care. He wanted to yell and scream and let the whole world know exactly how he had felt.

"And then the party. You didn't even bother telling me that you were getting engaged. You never told me anything, and I got stupidly — " He swallowed the spit that was gathering at the back of his throat. " — and I got so stupidly happy. I was blind and deaf and unbelievably happy. I fell in love with you, okay? Worst decision ever, by the way, falling in love with a guy with split personality issues, what was I thinking? I was so stupid. And then the party happened and BAM! I was fooled again."

He was laughing now. It was hilarious, so he couldn't possibly not laugh.

"It took so long to forget. It took so fucking long to pick up the pieces you left — my heart — my love, crashed and burned and shattered to pieces. I wasn't going to stay and watch how happily engaged you were. I couldn't stand it." He stopped laughing, staring down at the sheepskin rug beneath the coffee table. His gaze downcast and hollow.

He was just tired now. So heartsore and hurt and mentally exhausted, he felt as if everything he'd done to build a new life was all in vain. Even though he knew that wasn't necessarily true.

"Even if I did stay, what the hell do you expect of me? That I would want to continue our relationship even after you're married? So I'd be the mistress you'd fuck on Saturdays, or when it's convenient to you? I'm sorry, but I am not that low of a person. And I'm not that much of a saint that I'd stand to be a little side-extra in your life. So don't sit there and fucking tell me that I left you. You broke my heart, you asshole."

Heat was welling up in the back of his eyes, and a drop of tear trickled down his cheek.

He turned to Akashi — silent, composed and unbelievably beautiful Akashi — and felt a begrudging affection for him.

"So to answer your question, yes I did love you. Maybe I still do. But what's the point? You're still getting married and I've moved on with my life. I can only ask you to do the same and treat your fiancé well." He paused.

"And I think, we're quite finished talking." He looked away and bent over to pick up his coat from the sofa.

Akashi was eerily quiet.

Kouki didn't care. He just wanted to get the hell out of there, quickly.

"We have broken off our engagement."

He stopped and felt like he'd been slapped.

"What?"

Akashi rose from his seat, and was now walking over towards where Kouki was standing, while the brunette only stared dumbfounded. He placed a hand gently against Kouki's forearm and he leaned closer until their faces were inches apart.

Kouki thought he was just imagining things when he saw Akashi's eyes kept flickering between both red eyes and dichromatic eyes.

"I could not — we could not forget about you. We have hurt you severely, and we apologise for the all the hurt and the pain we've caused you." Akashi started, his voice gentle and mournful, face guilt-ridden.

"We have tried to forget — and to move on with our life. We wanted to respect your decision. But we could not continue with the engagement and the wedding plans, when we are both in love with another. No matter what. So we broke off the engagement and have shamed the Akashi family."

Kouki couldn't take his gaze off of the eyes that kept flashing on and off, between red eyes and dichromatic eyes, as if it was set on automatic. He was entranced by the strange phenomena.

"Kouki… Kouki." Akashi breathed his name with a sort of gentleness and a sort of burning intensity to it.

He stepped closer, arms spread to gather the stiffened body of Kouki into his embrace, he pressed his lips against Kouki's neck and breathed in his scent, whispering Kouki's name over and over again.

"Kouki, we love you. Akashi Seijuurou has fallen in love with you. Hopelessly and irreversibly. So don't go. Don't leave us. We promise we will make you happy, this time for sure — " He told him, voice full of intent.

" — please, say yes. Please."

Kouki was lost, lost in a storm of contradicting emotions — of happiness, fury, rejection, affection and mortification — it was absolutely nuts.

He couldn't breathe because his nose was stuffed full of Akashi's scent, his eyes brimmed with hot tears and the large, gaping hole in his heart was being rapidly filled, in an alarming pace. His mind had gone haywire. Everything was blurry. Everything was vibrant and beautiful and warm, and he couldn't stop crying.

He mindlessly raised his arms from beneath Akashi's shoulders, and placed them around the small of Akashi's back.

"Yes," he breathed harshly. His voice coarse, face wet. That was all he could say as he repeated the word again. "Yes."

A miniature universe where only the two of them existed — was being born anew.

—

Kuroko was loading boxes into the moving truck, one at a time because he was delicate. Meanwhile Kagami had almost stumbled on his way a little behind Kuroko, a tall order of boxes in his arms had obscured his vision. It was a good thing he managed to save the boxes from falling over on the last minute.

"Bah! Just how many more stuff does he own!?" Kagami had complained loudly after tentatively put the boxes down to the ground, rubbing his aching back. "And why the hell aren't they here to move 'em themselves?"

"There are around 30 of them, Kagami-kun. And they are currently managing the details of their move, so in the mean time, it'll be the two of us. The movers will handle the furniture." Kuroko said, picking up another box. "Some of these boxes will be donated, Akashi-kun said, because their new apartment is smaller."

"What's wrong with this one? Seems big enough to me. I mean, look at these boxes. Not to mention the furniture."

Kuroko shrugged.

"I suppose they think a smaller space is more intimate."

—

The End.

—

Plot twist: Why yes, Kouki, you are an unfortunate heroine to some cheesy novella universe. Ha ha. HA HA HA. Get it? *smacked*

Next Chapter: Akashi's PoV