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As soon as Higuruma finishes his whole spiel against the pathetic excuse of a Professor they’ve got on trial, he basically feels his soul descending into hell. All his energy is immediately sucked out of his body, and he’s got this sudden feeling, that everything, everything, he’s done today, has been useless. In less than five minutes, the grandfather clock on the ground floor, just below them, will sound the end of the day, at 7PM sharp. The perfect excuse for everyone to leave without having reached a conclusion. He can’t fucking stand it.
“I agree.”
What?
Hiromi Higuruma has never had any problems with auditory hallucinations. Yet he’s sure he cannot, truly, have heard the Nanami Kento, Professor of Business Law and Labour Law for Business Economics of the University of Tokyo, not only actively listening in a meeting about academia politics, but agreeing with him?! Higuruma looks back at the man. Sure enough, there he is, the insufferable individual. In his nice, perfectly tailored and ironed navy suit that hugs his figure in a way that should definitely be illegal in a university meeting. That perfect stone-faced expression, slightly chapped lips stretched into a thin line, a single brow raised just a tad.
“What?”
“Your point is not only compelling, but, in truth, unshakeable as well. The board has all the evidence to suggest that Professor Usagi has indeed been giving unfair advantages to his own pupils when it comes to P.h.D. positions. The fact that we’re even arguing about this is idiotic.” Nanami’s voice cuts through the quiet room like a knife.
Higuruma feels like passing out. That infuriating man, speaking up to support him. He glances at his wristwatch. Three minutes to 7PM. Oh, it stings. Knowing Professor Nanami is just throwing in his vote before running away as soon as the clock strikes. The meeting will be over, without any of them having reached a conclusion. It’s somehow even more cruel than Nanami’s usual apathy, sucking the little remaining energy out of Higuruma. He’s always so focused, almost energized at these kinds of meetings. He needs to fight for justice in the world of academia politics, because if he doesn’t, then no one will. Least of all Professor Nanami.
As he sits down, the voices around him are drowned out by a faint ringing in his ears. Has all this shit been useless? Usagi’s sitting there with a shit-eating grin on his face. He’s the one being investigated, he shouldn’t even be in the fucking meeting, as per the multiple emails Higuruma was very careful in wording. He’s got all his closest colleagues arguing in his favor, and Professor Nanami is silent again, until the clock strikes. The backdrop of the gorgeous old, wooden, dark library room behind them is particularly cruel. Higuruma feels like he’s soiling the wood and the books by having such a pointless conversation in front of it.
The grandfather clock strikes seven times. With each gong, Higuruma imagines different ways of murdering Professor Usagi for this entire ordeal. But it’s his own fault, really. Him who uncovered the illicit favoritism. Him who set up meetings and disciplinary hearings and emails to the dean. Nobody forced him to take up arms in this little crusade for ethics in academia. Another gong. This time he’s strangling Usagi from behind using his own ugly ass expensive tie that’s probably worth double what his PhD candidates make in three months. Higuruma lets himself savor the sweetness of his fantasies, and he can almost hear the tie itself, getting undone, wrapping around his little neck, and then getting squeezed tightly.
The sound is too real, he realizes suddenly. Unfortunately, it’s not Usagi’s tie developing a mind of its own. His eyes fall on the other almost equally vexing sight in the room. Professor Nanami, removing his own tie and throwing it over his shoulder, so casually that his whole frigid persona immediately shifts into a charismatic, effortlessly charming individual. Baffling. And unfair to the rest of them, to be completely honest. He even undoes the first button on his shirt. Pale skin peeks through, and Higuruma’s eyes suddenly develop zoom-in abilities to lock in the very few, thin strands that seem to reflect the light for his viewing pleasure only. Blond chest hair. Blond chest hair. He’s about to pass out.
But Nanami isn’t standing up to leave. Hell, he isn’t even looking at his charmingly worn-out briefcase. Higuruma’s living the moment in slow motion, as Nanami leans forward and rests his elbows on the round table.
“The matter is straightforward. But we’ll dumb it down more and more until you all get it. No one is leaving until we vote. And we won’t vote until you’ve all acknowledged the basic facts that our colleague has been reading over and over again. My overtime pay will come out of the break room budget.” Higuruma’s never seen him so cold. He loves it as much as he hates Nanami.
The meeting is over in just over an hour. If Higuruma had known that Professor Nanami getting serious was all it was going to take to get everyone to listen and get in line, he’d have been on his knees servicing him under the desk that same morning, ready to do everything to get him to be on his side from the beginning. As everyone slowly leaves the room, with Usagi throwing daggers at him with his eyes, Higuruma can’t help but stretch and mentally take note of all the follow-up emails and reports he’ll have to write.
It’s not like he simply forgot all morals and all the ways in which Professor Nanami grinds his gears. But seeing him lingering in the meeting room, stuffing papers in his bag, only the two of them left, he can’t not say anything.
“I know we haven’t seen eye to eye often. Rather, ever. But I do appreciate you breaking your no-overtime rule for this. It really helped.”
Professor Nanami merely raises an eyebrow in response. “Why are you thanking me as if I personally did you a favor? It should have been everyone’s duty to ensure that the meeting went smoothly. We are all equally in charge of these hearings, up until they reach the dean’s desk.”
“You know damn well that’s not the case.”
Nanami’s finished up putting stuff in his bag, and he’s eager to leave the room and return to his delayed peace. “I know. It’s still not right.”
“Not right? And since when are you concerned with-” Higuruma groans. Not now, you dumbass. Not when he just saved your ass. “Sorry,” he says, staring at the arched brow in order to avoid the other man’s eyes, “Just, thank you, again. If there’s a time to forget our petty squabbles about academia politics, it’s right now. I’ll let you get back home, it’s late enough already by your standards.” He realizes he let the little quip escape his lips there at the end, literally right after saying he’d let go of their usual bickering. He feels like a petty child. Nanami notices, because of course he does, but does not react. Just another insufferable trait: letting Higuruma know he’s the better man.
“Unfortunately not. I’ve got to stop by the library and check for a few volumes that my out-of-town students need.”
Typical. Not caring a lick about academia politics, and instead spending your time doing petty chores for your completely capable students, is what he would have said any other day. Today, he simply sighs. “The little ducklings can’t do the work themselves and instead push it onto their elders? The youth toda—”
“They live very far from here. Because of budget cuts, the online library system is often updated late, or not at all. They can’t simply check if a book is available from their homes. Checking in person would take three hours to and back, and a not irrelevant monetary investment, for most students. Why would I not simply look for them, since I’m here every day anyways?”
Higuruma hates how hard it is to argue against the guy sometimes. Especially when his gorgeous hazel eyes shine in the warm light. “You could have argued for that funding at the annual meeting. Which you left as soon as the clock struck.” He pauses, mouth stretched into a thin line. “Sorry. Not today. How about this, I’ll see to it that you get your overtime bonus, expeditiously.”
Nanami hums. “Once again, that is not your responsibility. I’ll file the request myself.” The man clears his throat. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll get going. I have a trip to the library, and I desperately need a drink afterwards.” He mutters that last part, not even bothering to wait for Higuruma’s response as he starts walking towards the door. But Higuruma is faster. His hand blocks the taller man.
“How about I help you check. And make it so that you get that drink, on me.”
Later, he’d tell his favorite TA, Shimizu, that his request was made out of a genuine desire to bury the hatchet with a man that he was slowly finding he had a lot more in common than he previously thought. In truth, the truth that he could never speak out loud as long as he lived, was that his hidden attraction for the man, who had always lain dormant under layers of annoyance for him, was rearing its head at the sight of a few, simple strands of blond chest hair.
The University’s library is nothing short of breathtaking. The east wing is open to the public, as it is regarded as a historical landmark. Frescoes on the ceiling, wooden columns with gold detailing, and rows upon rows of ancient books. The pompousness attracts tourists, which is why Higuruma tends to avoid it. But sneaking in past closing, using the staff keycard, hearing their footsteps echo around history, it is absolutely priceless. Not to mention the fun taboo of sneaking in the dark, behind the velvet ropes that ward off tourists from getting too close to the books and, gods forbid, touching them with their greasy fingers. Meanwhile, Nanami looks so dignified, with his slightly disheveled hair (did it get like that as soon as the clock struck 7? Higuruma could swear he’s never seen it like that), tie undone, and pristine white gloves for the specific books he’ll have to check. The ideal man, truly. Higuruma’s busy gawking when Nanami breaks the silence, whispering as to not disturb the peace of the room.
“They’re not out. I have to check the unshelved stacks.”
“The what?” Higuruma looks around. Unshelved stack? In this perfectly tourist, picture-worthy place? He’s never seen a single book out of place.
Nanami sighs, clearly worn out by his colleague’s incompetence.
“It’s clear that you do not make use of our library nearly as often as you should. On the ground floor, each shelf opens to a room which has more shelving space. That’s where they keep the carts full of books that have already been returned. They’re put back in their places in the mornings, before tourists show up. But the staff often can’t get through the whole stack, so books can stay out for weeks, even after being returned.”
Higuruma opens his mouth, but Nanami’s quicker.
“They’re not open to the public because checking that tourists don’t get in them and lock themselves in would be a nightmare for security. But we can go in, since we have high-level access as tenured Professors.”
“Huh. Good to know.”
Nanami rolls his eyes and rolls his sleeves up. There’s muscles there. Huh? How’s there muscles there? He looks like a twig in his suits. Since when did Nanami Kento have muscles? It feels… insulting. Especially when he walks up to the shelf and effortlessly opens it, revealing the small, dimly lit room behind it. He teaches Business Law and Labour Law for Business Economics, for fuck’s sake. There’s absolutely no reason for him to hide such muscle mass. Absolutely none.
Seething with barely concealed rage, Higuruma grabs a pair of gloves and follows him inside.
“What books are you looking for?”
“I’ve already told you that you do not need to help me.”
“I made a fool of myself multiple times today. It is only right that I help, at least in something so trivial.”
As Nanami parts his lips to relent and tell him the titles, footsteps are heard just outside the library. Along with Usagi’s signature high-pitched annoying voice. At least, that’s what it sounds like to Higuruma. Before he can even think, he grabs the handle and uses all his might to close the bookshelf-door, plunging them in darkness, only faintly illuminated by the light that peeks underneath the shelf. On cue, just a second later, Usagi and at least two other people, judging by the footsteps, enter the library. Higuruma presses his ear to the door, and just as swiftly whips out his phone, tapping the recording app.
Nanami takes a step forward, definitely crossing into his personal space. “What are you doing? Are you insane? This is highly unethical, and you wouldn’t be able to use this in an official academic hearing regardless,” he whispers. More like, whisper-shouts.
“Shh,” Higuruma whispers. An actual whisper, this time. “I won’t let him run circles around us. If he’s going to use despicable underhanded tactics, then so will I. Justice has to be served. One way or the other. So just zip it, in case someone finds this recording, you won’t be incriminated, yeah?”
Nanami’s eyebrow raises at the use of us, but Higuruma can’t see it in the dark. Still, the blond decides to relent. He takes a step back and shuts his mouth. But there Higuruma is, looking like a dodgy detective out of a kid’s show. He’s both serious, surrounded by murderous intent, and somewhat giddy at the chance to spy on that worm of a man. And Nanami, not immune to nature’s pull, cannot tear his eyes away from him. He’s thankful for the glow of the phone, which allows him to see the tip of Higuruma’s tongue peeking out of his mouth. From his position, he can only faintly hear murmuring from outside, unable to make out clear words.
Higuruma, on the other hand, looks entranced. He barely blinks or breathes for the few minutes that it takes for the group outside to grab a single book and leave the library. Only then do his shoulders slump, the tension leaving his body. Nanami doesn’t wait for him to press the stop button before speaking. He’s in this now, he knows that little tongue peeking out of Higuruma’s mouth sealed the deal.
“Anything useful? Worth risking your career for?”
Higuruma turns back to him with an adorable toothy grin. Nanami’s only ever seen him as this handsome, slightly rugged professor who’s too headstrong for his own good about his narrow concept of justice in the muddy waters of academia politics. This new look is… endearing. Perhaps too much so.
“Yup.” Higuruma nods as he pauses the recording. “I have a lead to check out tomorrow.”
“Enough to turn the tides on the next hearing?”
“We’ll see. For now, we can just grab those books for your students and get out. It’s late. Don’t want you to fall to your knees in exhaustion. At least, that’s the reason that I’ve always assumed behind your infuriating need to leave as soon as the clock strikes. Do you have a little lever to turn in order to start you up like a wind-up toy each morning?”
Nanami sighs, but even the darkness can’t hide the little smirk on his lips. “I thought you were trying to be nicer to compensate for my help.”
“Can’t help it. Old habits die hard. So. The titles?” Higuruma moves to turn on the light. Nanami’s hand is on his before he can do so.
“Perhaps it would be best to wait it out. Being caught like this would be tremendous in its own right, and even worse if someone then links it to mysterious new evidence against Usagi. Plus, he’s… not a stranger to grabbing a drink in his own office with others. Don’t want to get spotted by them.”
Higuruma should be listening to give a proper answer. But Nanami’s hand is on his, It’s warm. Like the soft smiles he reserves for his students. At this point, not having managed to connect his ears to his brain in time, he just nods, trusting whatever the smart man just said to be sound in logic.
“So just… light the stack with your phone. I’ll look for the books.”
Higuruma’s body moves on its own. If he had a tail, he’s sure it would be wagging right now. Nanami looks even more gorgeous in the dim light, surrounded by books, a single perfect curl dangling on his forehead.
“Do not point it at me. Point it at the books.”
Higuruma wants to bury himself alive in a pile of books. Instead, he simply clears his throat and tries to do a good job. He points the phone screen at the books, following Nanami’s gaze and moving accordingly. It doesn’t take long for Nanami to rise back up, frustrated at the lack of progress.
“They’re not here. Must still be out.”
That’s when the awkward silence starts. They’re not actively looking for anything, just waiting. Waiting until one of them says it’s clear to go out. But will any of them say it? It’s surprisingly comfortable, staying in this moment without arguments, disdain or academia chores between them. Higuruma sets his phone down on a shelf, placing it so that the light acts as a comfortable low light.
“So, how do you know Usagi grabs drinks in his office with others after hours? Did you ever participate?” Higuruma’s question is genuine, but his tone is slightly accusatory nonetheless. Force of habit.
Nanami, thankfully, doesn’t seem to mind. He simply smiles. “I’d rather take on hours of unpaid overtime.” He chuckles. “But no. Sometimes students need last-minute help. On their thesis, mostly when it’s close to the submission dates.”
“You’re too soft on them. They’re adults now. They should learn how to check for deadlines and act accordingly.”
“You know damn well that information is buried in the hell that is our University’s website. And that’s assuming it’s correct and updated, and that the student does not have any extra circumstances that might add on to the work. It is my job to teach, my job to be the supervisors for the ones I take under my wing. It is not a job I take lightly.”
Higuruma scoffs. “Tsk. Fine, fine. Still doesn’t explain why you don’t have TAs to offload the menial bullshit to.”
“I do have a TA. Ino’s good, handles marking minor assignments. Anything more than that… Well, it takes more work to train one properly than I’d like. We can’t all be lucky and stumble across extremely competent people, or even have trusted partners to take on those roles.”
Mh. Now, Higuruma wouldn’t be against calling Shimizu his partner, in any other regular situation, in front of anyone else. The woman’s seen her fair share of work and got his back more times than he could count. So why does the way Nanami said that feel so… weird?
“Partner?”
“Yes, partner. Your TA and you…” The simple possibility that the blonde and Higuruma might not actually be a couple only occurs to Nanami then and there. He stammers. “I— I always assumed—”
“For fuck’s sake. We’re not a couple. Lady’s lovely, but no. Do you think I’d actually so easily trample over numerous amounts of code of conduct rules?”
Nanami raises a brow. At the man who just illegally recorded a private conversation. He doesn’t need to say anything else.
“That’s different! I did that to do the right thing! Getting in the pants of someone who directly works for me is not some moral stand!”
Nanami huffs. “You’re both adults. She’s not fresh out of her degree, she’s a competent woman with a career of her own. As far as I know. I wouldn’t consider it such a bad offense.”
“Why are you talking as if I’m trying to cover something up?! We’re not together! Why do you even think that?!”
Nanami knows he’s stepped too far, but he can’t back away now. “I saw you late in the evening with her in your office, a couple of months ago. You were standing very close to one another.”
“Yes, we’re close! We’ve worked together for years! But there’s nothing untoward there.” Higuruma pauses, and Nanami thinks he might just get away with this. “Why were you even outside my office late at night, huh? We’re on opposite ends of the department.”
A lie would be oh so easy right now. So why can’t Nanami’s useless brain come up with one?! “I was simply checking if, with all the boasting you do about staying up later than everybody else, you actually did some work with that extra time, or were just draining overtime funds. It seemed like my assumptions were proven correct. At the time.”
“Well, they weren’t!” Higuruma takes a step closer to the man. Is that why Nanami looked so disgusted with him for such a long time? How many false assumptions have been muddying the waters between the two of them this whole time? He has to take a deep breath. “They weren’t. We’re not a couple. Whatever you saw us doing, it wasn’t untoward. She’s…” He doesn’t know how to finish the sentence. It’s never bothered him to be hated. Hell, if it did bother him, he wouldn’t be a professor. Or a lawyer. But it feels so wrong to be disliked for such a personal misunderstanding.
Nanami takes a step forward and places a hand on Higuruma’s wrist. Higuruma’s brain is rewiring itself in real time. Professor Nanami is a touchy person. The revelation feels life-altering.
“I understand now. I apologize for the misunderstanding. And, you are right. Now that I think about it, that’s not the kind of rule you’d be up to breaking.”
Why does it feels so relieving to hear it? Why is he not snatching his hand away? Nanami’s blond chest hair is right in front of him. He’s warm, and the sheer loathing for this man and his antics are melting away under that heat.
“Why were you outside my office that night?”
“...”
“Why.”
The way Higuruma’s demeanor bounces from carefree to completely serious, eyes ablaze, will never fail to make Nanami’s knees buckle. “You looked disheveled that day. I wanted to check up on my colleague.”
“Bullshit.”
Nanami pauses. Higuruma wishes he could see that expression more clearly. He squints, eliciting a beautiful chuckle from the blond. “I’m not bullshitting. You looked worse for wear. It didn’t help that you looked at me… a few times, that day.”
Huh?
“Huh?”
“I swear, you looked at me with that look. Perhaps I didn’t know you well enough. I clearly misinterpreted.”
At the mere thought that he accidentally made bedroom eyes at Nanami, enough so that he stayed overtime to follow through. Higuruma’s pants suddenly feel tighter. They’re adults, for fuck’s sake. How come they’ve always skirted around one another, righteous in their own convictions, while, all this time, they both just needed to fuck?! And maybe he was making eyes at him unintentionally! Who the fuck knows by this point?!
“Fuck. Did I really look like…?”
“Mhm. Or at least, I thought so. It was the same way you're looking at my chest hair today.”
Nanami’s voice, Higuruma now realizes, is light and playful. By the blond’s standards. Which is probably how Higuruma misunderstood so much of their previous conversations, chucking up that cold tone to a clear dislike for him. He should be ashamed, but now that he’s been found out, he suddenly feels that he doesn’t quite care about shying away. Higuruma’s eyes shamelessly fall upon Nanami’s chest.
The blond’s low, breathy chuckle is music to Higuruma’s ears. “Really, you shameless—?”
He doesn’t get to finish his remark. Higuruma’s lips are on his in a fraction of a second. They’re warm, big and so soft, and Nanami feels like he must have accumulated a ton of good fortune in his life, all to be spent right in this moment, gazing upon the other man’s eyes, with their fluttering eyelids, so focused on the kiss.
Then he feels two fingers tugging at his waistband. It shatters his heart to break off the kiss. “What’re you—?”
“What do you think I’m doing? I’m getting your cock out so I can give you that service you came looking for in my office months ago.”
“No.”
“What do you mean no? You’re hard. I can see your whole piston from your tweed pants.”
“No, I mean,” Nanami rests his forehead on the shorter man’s shoulder. He looks pained to have to stop this. “We can’t get any… external liquid in this room. It could damage the books.”
Higuruma rolls his eyes, but concedes to the point. “Good to know that’s the only qualm you have about this.” He gets a handful of the other man’s ass, props himself up on the shelf behind him, and pulls the blond right into him. Their matching erections rub against one another, albeit between layers of clothing. Still, the contact is enough for Nanami’s breath to catch in his throat, a strangled whine deliciously filling Higuruma’s ears.
“That enough to get you to finish, Professor?” Higuruma smirks, not relenting in the slightest. He humps up and down, his own eyes rolling back from the friction. He has to bite his tongue to not let lewd grunts spill into the library. He’s never had to restrain himself like this, unable to even properly touch his lover. He’d always assumed that it would feel less intense, as if the sensations were muffled. Instead, his body is electric, his whole focus on the shape of the other man’s cock, that he can perfectly feel on his own, despite the layers. His ears have never been so fine tuned on anything more than they are on Nanami’s shaky breaths. The man’s good at holding his voice back. Higuruma needs to hear it. In a better setting.
Nanami doesn’t bother replying. In a handful of minutes, he’s on the edge. With a final whimper, he presses back into Higuruma with the same intensity, thrusting forward and back a few times. One “Humph” is all he concedes to Higuruma, as he finishes in his own briefs like he’s back to being an anxious teenager at his childhood home. Embarrassing. We’re grown men. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because Higuruma lets out an adorable high pitched whine as he finishes, his eyes closed, the picture of bliss. The dark haired professor has kept his eyes closed most of the time, his whole focus on the friction, whereas Nanami has been staring at the sight under him the whole time, never tearing his eyes off the other man’s face. The faint 5 o’clock shadow on his chin, his gorgeous nose, his downturned eyes, his bushy brows that sit upon the defined lines of his face. He’s a painting, faintly illuminated by the light of the picture of fluffy dog lockscreen on the man’s phone. They both pant for a few minutes, until Nanami grabs Higuruma’s chin and plants a soft kiss on the man’s lips. Nanami feels his soul ascending into heaven.
It takes over fifteen minutes of them both standing in opposite corners, head bowed towards the wall, to calm down. Undeterred by the lingering awkwardness, they make their way to a nearby ramen place. Sitting side by side, they commiserate how embarrassing it is, that they got each other off before their first date. In the private, cozy space of the booth, while Nanami’s tie slips on Higuruma’s shoulder and Higuruma’s arm slips around the blond’s waist, the rich steam from the ramen bowls slowly melts away at their long lived tension.