Misaki Takahashi slumped over his desk, the dim light of his desk lamp casting a harsh glow over the crumpled report card in his hands. The numbers stared back at him like a death sentence, each failing grade a nail in the coffin of his college dreams. He groaned, dropping his head into his hands, his messy brown hair spilling over his fingers.
“Great. Just great,” he muttered to himself, his voice dripping with bitter sarcasm. “Forget cracking open textbooks at Mitsuhashi University. I’ll be flipping burgers at some greasy diner, asking ‘Would you like fries with that?’ for the rest of my miserable life. Maybe I’ll get lucky and they’ll promote me to mop duty. Oh, the prestige!”
His internal monologue spiraled into a full-blown rant as he leaned back in his chair, glaring at the ceiling. “How did I even get here? I mean, I studied. Okay, fine, I skimmed. But still! Is my brain just a useless potato rolling around in my skull? Did I miss the memo on how to not be a complete academic disaster? Ugh, I’m doomed. DOOMED!”
With a dramatic sigh, Misaki pushed himself up and trudged downstairs, his footsteps heavy with self-loathing. “Maybe I can just hide this report card under my mattress and pretend I’m a genius,” he grumbled under his breath. “Yeah, right. Takahiro will sniff out my failure like a bloodhound. God, I’m such an idiot—”
His words died in his throat as he froze at the bottom of the stairs. There, sprawled on the couch in a suspiciously cozy embrace, was his older brother Takahiro—and some stranger. A tall, silver-haired man with sharp features and a lazy, almost predatory smirk. Their closeness was... unsettling, to say the least. Misaki’s eyes narrowed, steam practically shooting from his ears as he clenched his fists.
Takahiro, blissfully oblivious to the storm brewing in his little brother, looked up with a cheerful grin. “Oh, Misaki! Perfect timing. I want you to meet someone. This is Akihiko Usami, an old friend of mine. And, lucky for you, he’s agreed to be your new tutor.”
Misaki’s jaw hit the floor. His gaze snapped to Akihiko, who offered a slow, amused nod, his long fingers lingering just a little too long on Takahiro’s shoulder. Instantly, Misaki branded him in his mind: *Creepy pervert. Danger. Abort mission.*
Akihiko’s voice slithered through the air, smooth and teasing, as he sized Misaki up with a glint in his violet eyes. “Well, well. So this is the infamous little brother. I look forward to... taming such a wild spirit.”
Misaki’s face twisted in disgust, his voice sharp as a blade. “Excuse me? Taming? What am I, a stray dog? Keep your weird fantasies to yourself, you shady lounge lizard.”
Takahiro burst into laughter, completely missing the tension crackling like lightning between the two. “Oh, come on, Misaki. Akihiko’s just joking. He’s a great guy, and he’s brilliant. You’ll be acing your exams in no time with his help.”
Misaki shot his brother a withering look. “Yeah, sure. If I survive whatever creepy scheme this guy’s cooking up.” Under his breath, he added, “I’ll probably end up in a ditch somewhere.”
Akihiko’s smirk widened, his gaze never leaving Misaki. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll take *very* good care of you.”
Misaki’s skin crawled, but he bit his tongue, already dreading what was to come.
---
Later that evening, Misaki stood outside Akihiko’s upscale apartment, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he muttered curses under his breath. “Walking straight into a den of weirdos. Perfect. Just what I needed. Why did I agree to this? Oh, right, because Takahiro guilt-tripped me with that stupid puppy-dog face. Ugh.”
He rang the bell, shifting uncomfortably as the door swung open to reveal the sleek, modern interior of Akihiko’s place. Misaki’s eyes widened despite himself, taking in the polished hardwood floors, minimalist furniture, and floor-to-ceiling windows. “Okay, fine, the guy’s got taste,” he grumbled internally. “But that just makes him a *fancy* creep. Probably lures people in with this aesthetic before—ugh, stop thinking about it, Misaki!”
As he waited for Akihiko to appear, Misaki’s gaze landed on a book resting on the coffee table. The cover looked innocent enough—some kind of novel, maybe? Out of sheer boredom, he flipped it open, only for his eyes to nearly pop out of his head. The page was filled with explicit content, the characters described in vivid, *disturbing* detail. And worse—way worse—the descriptions bore an eerie resemblance to Takahiro and Akihiko himself.
Misaki’s face burned crimson as he slammed the book shut, his heart pounding in his chest. “What the actual hell?! This guy’s a disgusting degenerate! Who writes this garbage? And about my brother, no less! I’m gonna puke. Or punch him. Or both!”
Rage bubbled up inside him, hot and uncontrollable. He couldn’t just sit there and pretend he hadn’t seen it. No way. Storming toward the hallway, he zeroed in on what he assumed was Akihiko’s room, his footsteps echoing with purpose. “I’m gonna give this perverted novelist a piece of my mind. He’s not getting away with this!”
Without knocking, Misaki burst through the door, only to freeze at the sight before him. Akihiko was sprawled across the bed, half-asleep and shirtless, his pale skin catching the dim light in a way that made Misaki’s brain short-circuit for a split second. His silver hair was tousled, and he looked like some kind of smug, disheveled god. It only fueled Misaki’s flustered outrage.
Akihiko cracked open one eye, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he propped himself up on an elbow. “Well, well. What’s got you so worked up, little brother? Couldn’t resist snooping through my private works of art, hmm?”
Misaki’s face turned an even deeper shade of red as he pointed a shaky finger at the man. “Y-You—! What the hell is wrong with you? Writing that... that filth! About my brother! Are you insane? A pervert? Both?!”
Akihiko’s grin didn’t falter as he slid off the bed, closing the distance between them with a slow, deliberate stride. His voice dropped to a low, suggestive purr. “Oh, come now. Don’t pretend you’re not intrigued. I saw the way your eyes lingered on those pages before you slammed the book shut. Curiosity’s a dangerous thing, isn’t it?”
Misaki stumbled back a step, his words tripping over themselves. “W-What?! No! I wasn’t—! I’m not—! You’re disgusting! Stay away from me, you creep!”
But Akihiko only chuckled, his gaze predatory as he leaned in just close enough to make Misaki’s pulse race. “Relax. I’m only teasing. For now. But tell me, Misaki... are you always this fiery, or am I just lucky?”
Misaki gritted his teeth, his embarrassment morphing into raw defiance. “Keep talking, pretty boy. I’ll wipe that smug look off your face faster than you can write another page of your trashy fantasies.”
Akihiko’s laughter filled the room, rich and dark. “Oh, I like a challenge. Let’s see how long you can keep up that bravado, shall we?”
The air between them crackled with something dangerous, something neither of them could quite name. Misaki’s heart thudded in his chest, but he refused to back down, glaring daggers at the man who’d just turned his world upside down. This tutoring arrangement was already a disaster—and it had only just begun.
Want to know how it ends?
This is just the opening chapter. Continue the saga — or write a steamy tale starring you.