A/N: Written spur of the moment. Haha, go ahead and ask about the title, but I can't say I know myself.
Warning: I wrote this with very little sleep. An attempt at humor?
Old Men Never Lie
As 'incidents' often did, it all started with a remark made by Miyagi.
The older professor leaned back in his office chair, deep in shallow thoughts.
"Kusama-kun, huh…? Kamijou, he doesn't seem like the kinda guy who would be your type…"
At his desk, Hiroki sat organizing files, looking back and forth between them and the computer screen distractedly.
"Ehh? And what in the world would make you thi-" The younger man cut himself off as his face turned beet red. "A-And just what would you be implying, professor?!"
"Your skin has been looking so smooth lately that I've just been dying to touch it! There's no point in hiding it, Kamijou, I know you and him are getting it on!" Miyagi teased as he walked over to the brunette, bending over to squeeze his shoulders.
Hiroki smacked his hands away. "I-I don't know what you're talking about! And anyway, I have no idea what would make you think that…Just go away and let me work in peace for once!" He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Miyagi exhaled noisily, throwing his hands in the air as if to feign innocence. "I'm just saying…He doesn't seem your type. Your type seems…more like…" he trailed off, brow furrowing.
But at that moment, there was a knock on their office door. The two stared at it with puzzled expressions (they rarely received guests) before a second knock sounded. Miyagi answered hesitantly.
"Hello, is Kamijou-sensei here?" a low voice rumbled.
Hiroki recognized the voice instantly, his head snapping up. He hastily fumbled out of his seat and moved into the doorway's view. His cheeks instinctively flushed slightly at the sight of his tall, blue-eyed friend.
"Hiroki," Akihiko said with a small, warm smile.
Hiroki shook the surprise out of his expression. "What are you doing here? Trying to find a place to hide from a deadline or something?" the brunette asked in an annoyed tone. He crossed his arms and leaned on a bookshelf, giving him a flat look.
"Not exactly. It's been a while and I was in the area. Oh, and I have a book to return to you." Akihiko held the book in his hand up.
A sigh. "Come in then, I guess."
Miyagi had quietly faded into the background, falling right into his chair and pretending not to listen to their conversation.
Akihiko didn't stay very long. He and Hiroki exchanged words until the tall man decided it was time he let the brunette return to his work.
The office was quiet for a while after the visitor left. At least until Miyagi opened his mouth.
He swiveled around in his chair, looking directly at his coworker. "More like him!" he exclaimed animatedly.
"…what?" Hiroki was sifting through papers at his desk again, not paying one bit of attention.
"More like him!" the older man repeated, his words breaking his coworker's focus in a snap. "He's more like your type!"
There was a moment of silence. Hiroki's following growl of rage at Miyagi's statement was warning enough. A chair was sent flying, knocking down piles of books one after another like dominoes.
Miyagi was glad wheels had recently been added to his desk; it could easily flip around and made for a great shield against the brunette's throwing tantrums.
"Again, I'm just saying!"
"You're an idiot, you know that?"