A/N: I posted this quickly and only read it over once. Apologies ahead of time for any blaring mistakes. And any little ones, too, of course.

"I told you already, Hashiba, there's no way I would do something like that!"

"But I remember now! When I woke up you were—"

"My covers were too warm, that's all."


"Just get to class or you'll be late!"

The door slammed, and Sora grimaced as the frame shook from the impact. He whirled with gritted teeth and rummaged through his dresser drawers.

"Fishy, Fujimori," Sora muttered darkly to himself, "Trying to play it off like his covers were too warm, but I saw him just before that after Yoru…" His fingers froze over a pair of striped socks and the hair on the back of his neck quivered when he felt the presence of someone at his back. Karma must have hated him.

With a guilty look of apology, Sora pivoted. Sunao stood with his arms folded, staring him down with a look of murder on his delicate features. Apparently, he'd turned right back around and re-entered the room in the midst of Sora's one-man rant. Sora wondered what the boy had forgotten, but then he forced himself to focus.

They exchanged suspicious glances. Sunao hadn't spoken a word yet, and the silence was becoming too much to endure. Sora scratched the back of his neck and let out an uncomfortable laugh.

"Eh heh, I didn't mean it, Fujimori. I believe you about last night, really."

But to Sora's surprise, the other male paid no attention to his defense. Sunao paced to the window, a mocking ring to his tone as he spoke in a pitch slightly higher than normal.

"Fujimori, Fujimori," came the words tartly, "You're so stupid, always talking about Fujimori but then denying all your feelings. You make Yoru and I do all the work."

Sora's eyes flew wide at the initial shock, but his look quickly transformed into a wince. "Ran."

"Yes, Ran." But Ran didn't seem to be addressing Sora as much as speaking smugly to the air beside him. "You're a big, annoying lug, but I guess I'll have to do it if I want to see Yoru more often." Finally, the irritated boy scanned him with a critical twist of one eyebrow. Ran was studying Sora like the blue-head was a science project.

Sora blinked. "See Yoru?"

Ran launched himself forward, and Sora took a wavering step backward to shield himself.

"Yes, see Yoru! Do I have to spell it out for you? You have to want Sunao! Everyone gets it but you. 'Nao, 'Nao, 'Nao! Do you understand yet?"

Ran's hands were on his hips and he was glaring fiercely. Sora backed away slowly, shuffling his way around the fuming Ran and tip toeing in reverse to the door, palms out as if to make peace. Ran's eyes followed his every movement, and Sora felt a flush creep up to his cheeks in his discomfort. But his hand was finally on the doorknob, and he turned it slowly. He had to get to class; Matsuri would assign him extra work if he skipped out and had to borrow the blonde boy's notes again…

Ran rocketed forward like a bullet train and caught the door just as Sora had begun to inch it open. Sora gulped. Ran's eyes narrowed mischievously as he held the door closed and slithered closer. Their bodies were touchig. Sora's heart was beating too fast.

"You're staying here," Ran said.

Before he could think, Sora allowed himself to whine. "I can't miss class again! Matsuri will kill me, not to mention my teachers…" He averted his eyes from the figure that writhed against him impatiently.

"Class, or this body?" As if to solidify the statement, Ran rubbed his cheek against Sora's shoulder and ran his palms eagerly across Sora's chest.

Sora fled the doorway and flung himself onto his bed, where he snatched his pillow and brandished it like a weapon. "No way. I don't even like you!"

Ran had his arms folded. "But you like Sunao." Sora didn't answer, and a light of some epiphany made Ran wriggle in glee. "You have cold feet."

This time, Sora flung the pillow at his opponent. Ran sidestepped the projectile with ease and strode to the bedside where Sora perched, mortified.

Sora struggled backward, but the head of his bed proved to be quite the barrier; he could retreat no farther. Ran was on the opposite end of the mattress, crawling coyly toward him with a look that said he was doomed.

"I'll let you have Sunao's body. Then you'll finally know what it feels like. Why don't you take those pants off? You can let me do everything."

The mouth of the cornered boy dropped open. "Just a second ago you were complaining that you had to do everything," Sora grumbled when he'd regained some semblance of thought. He refused to heed the request he'd been given.

So Ran did it for him.

Sora let out a yelp as his pants were quickly unzipped, yanked off, and tossed aside, onto the floor from whence they'd came that morning when he'd realized he had no clean clothes. Sora watched them flutter down like a banner. He really should do his laundry, but—

But Ran was pushing him down onto the sheets and unclothing himself, right in front of Sora's eyes as daylight streamed through their open blinds.

"C-Cut that out!" Sora ordered, diving for Sunao's discarded shirt. Ran simply wriggled free of his last clothing item and inched forward. Sunao's body was sleek, pale… and completely, utterly visible. Sora's mouth clamped shut and he choked on his protests. He knew he was flushing red to his core. He didn't want to stare – didn't dare – and yet he was devouring the sight of that body.

Ran watched him with hawk-like intensity. Sora caught the smaller boy looking down.

"That's what I thought," Ran observed in approval, and it was then that Sora followed his gaze to glance downward at himself. He bit his lip to keep from moaning in agony and embarrassment. He desperately ached for what had been placed before him. And once he acknowledged the lust that brewed within him, it inevitably consumed him.

Sora's voice came out a whisper. "Fujimo—"

"No, it's Ran," Sunao's alter ego corrected automatically. "You really are dumber than I thought. But memorize this. Memorize me, because my body is Sunao's and you can have this all the time if you listen to Yoru and I."

Sora's throat was suddenly dry. He didn't want to hear any more talk. "Then… Ran," he corrected, "I—" A slender finger rose to hover over his lips and quiet him. Ran positioned himself above Sora's hips, while Sora groaned and shut his eyes with the pleasure of the heat.

"No, open them," Ran commanded. "Watch me. Watch this body that you want so badly."

Sora let out a low breath that ached with every second it took to leave him. He slit his eyes open, unable to keep his lashes from flickering as Ran slid forward and backward against him, causing them to rub against each other. Ran's length pressed against his, and then Ran lurched and rotated his hips, grinding them together hard and fast. Sora cinched his eyes shut and twisted his head to one side, biting the inside of his lower lip to muffle the sound that rose in the back of his throat.

"Sora?" There was amusement in Ran's tone. "Do you like this?"

"Wh-what does it matter?" Sora fought, as another shift sent his head snapping backward and his chest heaving with his rapid exhales. "Fujimori would never want to do this."

Ran shook his head. "Sunao was calling out your name last night."

Sora sought control, but it fled him when he felt Ran slip his thumb over the head of his long, aching member. And the thought of Sunao, Sunao calling out his name in the heat of passion, writhing in pleasure against the sheets… The image took him dangerously close to the brink. "There's no way Fujimori would do that," Sora forced out, bucking to throw the smaller boy off. But his limbs turned to jelly at the feeling pooling in deep in his groin, and he found he couldn't stir.

Ran was losing his patience. "Well, you're wrong. And anyway, it's me here now and I want something to happen soon! This is no fun without Yoru."

The blue-head snorted. "Then call to Yoru and let him take my place."

A frown. "No. Then the plan won't work."

"It won't work anyway."

"It will!" Ran pulled away suddenly, straightening like a lightning rod, and Sora almost cried out at the sudden loss of contact. The smaller boy changed his position just slightly, hovering over Sora's hips with a sly smirk on his face.

"Do you want to go inside me?" Ran asked, drawing out the agonizing lull of action until Sora was forced to seize Sunao's hips and tug Ran back down.

"Yes," Sora exhaled. He was dying of ecstasy.

Ran allowed Sora to thrust upward and encase his length in Sunao's tightly clenched entry point. Sora groaned again, long and wanton and laden with lust the likes of which he'd never dared let himself experience. If this was the power of Sunao's tantalizing body, if this was what he would feel when they were to finally—

"Don't stop," Ran gasped, his voice shaky. Sora looked up.

Ran's face was flushed, delicately tinted rose from his cheeks to his ears, and his head was thrown back. His eyes were hooded with Sunao's long, elegant lashes. Ran licked his lips and his breathing steadied, but something appeared to click inside him as Sora observed, and at once it was Ran who was urgent and bursting with yearning.

"You feel so good. I don't care if you are Sora and not Yoru right now. Stop making me wait!"

Sora loosened his grip on Ran's hips, releasing some of the pressure and allowing the smaller boy to move. Ran pulled up and Sora pulled out, and they collided again with reckless abandon.

"Yoru will be angry with you," Sora strained, letting Ran ride him from above and drinking in the smaller male's fluid, feminine movements. He felt his member swell further when his longing reached a peak. Ran didn't answer, absorbed as he was in his task. His small hands came down and he pumped himself, still keeping up the delicious routine of burying Sora inside of him at even intervals. Sora let his grip leave the curve of Sunao's hips and roam lower.

Ran panted quietly, and sweat beaded against his pale skin like jeweled droplets. He cried out at last, throwing back his head and trembling with satisfaction. Sora followed, the sensation swallowing him until he nearly lost consciousness from the crashing culmination of their desires. To his dismay Ran sagged forward to rest atop of him, spent. On instinct, Sora reached upward to tangle his fingers in Sunao's hair and pull the boy in to rest on his shoulder. But it was Ran who had given him such pleasure, not Sunao. And Ran was not the one that Sora wanted.

"Ran," Sora said, his voice tender despite himself. "You can't fall asleep here. What if Fujimori wakes up and has a heart attack when he realizes what happened? I'll be dead."

Ran muttered something incoherent and cozied in closer. Sora heaved a sigh and sat up carefully. Then he carried the other boy to the bed opposite his and laid him down.

When he'd accomplished the deed, Sora brought his hand roughly to his forehead. "Matsuri is going to kill me for missing class."

A/N: Is it me, or was that ending a bit rushed? Ah well, I'll make up for it in the last chapter. X3