Last night, Daichi bribed Cass and Asahi to take their place as hall monitors. Then they’d slipped away to an empty room to have their fun. Surya had the foresight to set his alarm for the prank, predicting they’d fall asleep, and it went off like a siren under his head.

He rolled out from under Daichi’s arm with a sigh. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, cracked his stiff neck, and tried to shake Daichi awake. It was like trying to rouse a corpse; Daichi remained dead to the world.

On zombie-mode without his caffeine, Surya started pulling on Daichi’s socks for him. By the time he was shoving Daichi’s limp arm through a sleeve, Daichi stirred with a low groan, his voice thick with sleep.

“Why?” he mumbled.

“The prank.”

“I meant, why did we sign up for this? It’s way too early to be up.”

Too early for a prank, maybe, but apparently not for other activities.

Surya started grabbing all the clothes they’d feverishly stripped from each other hours earlier. He leant over Daichi, whose hand lazily slid across his hip, and his breath hitched in surprise when he felt Daichi lightly kissing his inner thigh.

Daichi seized his chance to lick higher and harder. He fixed his grip on Surya’s hips, digging his fingers in harder to hold him still. His tongue slid down the length of Surya, who shuddered, giving way to the soft heat.

It wasn’t easy reaching this point. They’d fallen straight into the deep end with each other, with Surya terrified that he was as unlovable as they said. He’d worried that Daichi just thought of him as a fuck buddy, even though it was Daichi’s breath ghosting his temple late at night and his mouth on the swell of his throat.

He was scared that he loved Daichi too much, that all of this was a temporary thing, and he’d wake up one morning to find him gone. But then one day, without thinking much of it, Daichi had brushed the corner of Surya’s mouth with his thumb, and Surya realised they’d gone too far.

He’d given himself away.

All his insecurities and fears were laid bare and ugly, and he kept waiting for Daichi to retreat from all of it, but he never did. He’d plunged into the deep end with Surya, and even when the novelty wore off, he’d stayed right where he was, trying to crawl into Surya’s skin.

Threading his fingers through Daichi’s hair, Surya felt him shiver from the touch. They moved in perfect rhythm with each other, until the trickle of pleasure grew into a roar. His hands fisted, clutching onto Daichi as he gasped, and Daichi started to lift his leg over his shoulder, eager for another round.

But the second alarm sounded, and they had to run.

They snuck from door to door, carefully stretching sheets of plastic wrap across the doorframes to create invisible barriers. Every time Surya nearly stumbled or Daichi cracked some comment, they had to cover their mouths to smother their laughter.

When Leon finally joined them with their water guns, he was already soaked through to the skin. Then Harper arrived moments later, looking very dry and very pleased with herself. With all the seniors armed and in position along the hallway, Surya gave a sharp, ear-piercing whistle.

“Evacuate!” They all started hollering, and pandemonium ensued.

Doors flew open as first-years rushed into the hallway, only to hit the plastic. Confusion quickly gave way to laughter and retaliation, with water balloons exploding everywhere. Students skidded across the soaked floors, tackling each other with glee.

Surya stuck close to Daichi, who rampaged through the chaos, going wild with his gun. When Daichi suddenly grabbed his shoulder and pointed ahead, Surya ducked low to follow. The hallways were a blur of flying balloons and shouts, and it felt like they were darting through the trenches.

They came to a sudden halt in one of the doorways. Over Daichi’s shoulder, Surya glimpsed a scattering of bedrolls and Akira still tangled in his, looking wide-eyed and utterly dishevelled. His hair stuck up like he’d been electrocuted, framing a very puzzled expression.

“Just woke up?” Daichi grinned, already dripping wet.

Akira lifted his hands. “Uh–?”

Daichi sprayed him directly in the face.

He tried to kick free of his blanket, only to slip and barely catch himself on his hands.

“Stop picking on babies!” Surya shot the back of Daichi’s head with a spray of water, moving around him to grab Akira’s shirt and haul him to his feet. He dropped a few balloons into Akira’s hands before dramatically striking a pose. “Time for some sweet revenge.”

He pushed up his hair and winked, while Daichi, not to be outdone, struck a similarly ridiculous pose.

“You can try,” Daichi challenged, “but you’ll lose.”

Someone certainly tried. A balloon flew at Daichi’s chin, and he sprung to the side, narrowly avoiding it. His eyes widened on Akira, whose hand was now empty, while Surya broke into a menacing grin, pleased that Akira was a better shot than he’d anticipated.

“I’ve just armed the Little Bears’ best shooter,” he boasted. “Take aim!”

Grinning from ear-to-ear, Akira lifted another balloon, and together they charged Daichi. They tore up the room, splattering the walls and bedrolls with water, and managed to tackle Daichi to the floor. Surya managed to pin him with a knee to his chest, while Akira sprawled over his stomach, forced to use his entire weight to help.

Daichi could have easily thrown them aside if he hadn’t been laughing so hard. Water dripped from his hair in uneven rivulets, trailing over his jaw and the curve of his throat. He squirmed for extra effect, like he was in his death throes on the battlefield, and memories of their recent tryst flashed through Surya’s mind.

Surya shot him a look, warning him to stop moving under him like that, but Daichi only smirked.

“You put up a valiant fight,” Surya said, feigning solemnity and maintaining focus when they had a third-party present. “Do you have any last words?”

“You –” He started, but Surya sprayed him square in the face, causing him to sputter and gasp.

“Die with some dignity,” Akira said, earning a laugh from Surya.

Before they could continue, a voice boomed from outside the hall. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Aw, lucky you.” Surya smiled down at Daichi, who muttered something under his breath as Professor Masami drew closer.

Akira scrambled off Daichi, almost nervous that Masami might think they were fighting, and both Daichi and Surya’s eyes dropped to his ass. He started to say something, and they wrenched their startled faces away. Surya didn’t even hear what he said.

Leon ducked into the room, whispering, “Surya?”

Both seniors stood, and after a moment, so did Akira. He was completely soaked now, with his curls plastered to his head save for a few rebellious locks.

“We running?” Surya asked.

“Harper’s taking responsibility, so we might be fine,” Leon replied.

“I’ll go out,” Surya sighed, unwilling to abandon her.

“Well, I’m ducking,” Daichi said, already heading for the window. “Masami-tov hates my guts.”

Surya saluted him. “Coward,” he teased.

Daichi returned his own taunting two-finger salute and disappeared out the window. Leon tried scampering after him, but Surya snagged his collar and jerked him to a stop.

“Not a chance. You’d break your legs.” Surya towed him toward the door and their inevitable scolding.

“You’re playing favourites again,” Leon whined.

The hallway was a mess of dripping students, who were filing into their rooms while Masami barked orders to mop up the carnage.

Masami immediately identified the culprits and marched those seniors to the cafeteria, though he surprised them by laughing at Harper’s videos of students crashing into the plastic. He did warn them never to do it again when he was in charge, but he waved them back to their rooms with a smile.

Although, just as they thought they were off the hook, he added, “Oh, and send Daichi to my office on Monday, okay? I don’t want any troublemakers thinking they could run away.”