The dorm room was a battlefield of chaos, a testament to the kind of organized disaster only college students could muster. Textbooks teetered in precarious stacks on a desk that hadn’t seen a duster in weeks, empty energy drink cans littered the floor like fallen soldiers, and a lone poster of a rock band—peeling at one corner—clung to the wall as the sole attempt at personality. Late afternoon sunlight streamed through a cracked window, painting lazy golden stripes across the room and over the beat-up couch where Kazu sat, stiff as a board, pretending to be engrossed in a dog-eared biochemistry textbook.
Across from him, sprawled with the kind of effortless arrogance that could only be described as infuriating, was Reiji. Shirtless. Of course. Because why would Reiji, with his chiseled abs and that maddening smirk, ever bother with something as pedestrian as a t-shirt in the privacy of their shared space? His dark hair was mussed just so, as if he’d rolled out of bed looking like a damn model, and his arms were casually draped over the back of the couch, every muscle on display like a personal challenge to Kazu’s sanity.
Kazu’s jaw tightened as he forced his eyes to stay glued to the page, though the words might as well have been written in ancient hieroglyphs for all he was absorbing. His glasses slipped down his nose, and he shoved them back up with a huff, acutely aware of the heat creeping up his neck. *Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t—* Too late. His gaze flicked up, just for a split second, and caught Reiji’s smirk widening.
“Problem, Kazu?” Reiji’s voice was a low, teasing drawl, dripping with amusement as he tilted his head, one eyebrow arching like he already knew the answer. “You’ve been staring at that same page for ten minutes. Either biochem is riveting, or you’re distracted by something... else.”
Kazu’s ears burned, and he snapped the book shut with more force than necessary, glaring at Reiji over the rim of his glasses. “I’m not distracted. I’m annoyed. There’s a difference. And maybe I’d be less annoyed if you’d put on a damn shirt for once in your life. This isn’t a beach, Reiji. It’s a dorm room. My dorm room.”
“Our dorm room,” Reiji corrected, his grin sharp enough to cut glass. He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, and Kazu cursed internally as his eyes betrayed him again, darting to the way Reiji’s shoulders flexed with the movement. “And what’s the big deal? It’s hot in here. Window’s barely open. Besides, I thought you were all about efficiency. Less laundry, right?”
Kazu scoffed, crossing his arms tightly over his chest as if that could shield him from the sheer audacity radiating off his roommate. “Efficiency? That’s your excuse? You’re just fishing for attention, and I’m not biting. Put on a shirt before I throw one at you.”
Reiji chuckled, the sound low and warm, sending an unwelcome shiver down Kazu’s spine. “Oh, come on, Kazu. You’re blushing so hard right now, I could roast marshmallows off your face. Admit it—you like the view.”
“I do not!” Kazu snapped, his voice pitching up an octave before he could stop it. He stood abruptly, nearly knocking over a stack of notebooks in his haste, and pointed an accusing finger at Reiji. “You’re insufferable. You know that? You strut around here like you’re God’s gift to humanity, and I’m just trying to study. Some of us actually care about passing finals, not... not showing off!”
Reiji’s eyes gleamed with mischief as he leaned back again, stretching his arms above his head in a move that was so blatantly provocative, Kazu nearly choked on his own tongue. “Showing off? Nah, I’m just comfortable. But if it’s bothering you that much, why don’t you come over here and make me put something on? I’m open to negotiation.”
Kazu’s mouth opened, then snapped shut, his brain short-circuiting at the mental image that conjured up. He could feel the heat spreading from his neck to his cheeks, and he knew—knew—Reiji was eating this up like a cat with a bowl of cream. “You’re ridiculous,” he managed finally, his voice tight. “I’m not playing your stupid games. I have better things to do than deal with your... your nonsense.”
“Aw, don’t be like that,” Reiji called after him as Kazu turned on his heel, heading for the tiny bathroom attached to their room. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that? Like a little angry kitten. Should I get you a ball of yarn to bat at?”
Kazu froze in the doorway, his hand gripping the frame so hard his knuckles whitened. He shot a glare over his shoulder, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the way his glasses fogged up slightly from the heat of his own embarrassment. “Keep talking, Reiji. See how long it takes before I smother you with a pillow in your sleep.”
Reiji’s laughter followed him, rich and unrestrained, as Kazu slammed the bathroom door behind him. He leaned over the sink, turning on the cold water and splashing it over his face, trying to douse the fire in his cheeks and the irritating flutter in his chest. His reflection stared back at him, wide-eyed and frazzled, damp strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead. “Get a grip, Kazu,” he muttered to himself, gripping the edge of the sink. “He’s just messing with you. That’s all. Don’t let him win.”
But even as he said it, he could still hear Reiji’s smug chuckle echoing through the thin walls, a reminder that this battle of wits—and wills—was far from over.
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