Archive of Our Own

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According to the notes of Shingo Yabuki, whenever Kyo Kusanagi was around, a certain individual by the name of Iori Yagami would show up to fight in order to kill Kyo.

And whenever Iori Yagami was unsuccessful, hours later when Shingo was walking home from either training or working at his part time job at the udon shop, they would show up.

Mature and Vice, both tall and beautiful women dressed in wine would “escort” poor Shingo to meet with Iori in his apartment and lock him up in there until the next day.

This was mostly a one-sided arrangement, courtesy of the two women by Yagami’s side.

And Shingo had no clue why this was happening no matter how much he asked.

During that time, Shingo would be physically ravaged by Iori. He was ruthless, rough, and downright mean. The innocent man learned the hard way on the first day that he would have to come prepared each day, whether he would be dragged away or not. It was now a gamble he could not afford to lose, lest his lifespan would be further shortened than it already was from the stress. There were moments where he drank himself into a stupor, but realized it could hinder him from learning how to conjure a flame, or so Shingo thought.

But at some point, their relationship had changed. Not close enough to be friends, but not quite enemies either. More so, they learned to tolerate each other. Iori himself grew tired of constantly having sex without a real reason, so Shingo would instead yap to Iori about any topic, mostly stuff related to Kyo. To be able to agree and even hold a discussion lasting longer than five seconds before being shut up with fire by Iori on something was rather strange, but welcoming. It was especially great when Shingo’s butt was spared from the brutality with a taste of pleasure he would have to endure on such days.

With this newfound amiable interaction, Shingo would be more open to criticize Iori, albeit with consequences. The brunette would complain to the redhead about how awfully dirty his place was, while Iori was annoyed by how much he talked about it and took it upon himself to teach the boisterous man a very strict lesson on the flames of the Yagami. Eventually, Shingo cracked from how much of a disaster it was and took it upon himself to clean the place while also preparing light meals he knew how to make or bring a few bowls from his workplace to keep the Yagami clan heir from dying of hunger. Iori was annoyed at first by these unnecessary acts of housekeeping, but eventually accepted it as the norm. Unbeknownst to him, this healthier change in lifestyle made Iori a bit more relaxed, even practicing his bass with more ease because of this change in atmosphere.

However, this newly adopted lifestyle had the caveat to having Iori much more sex hungry each time Shingo came over. Even becoming much more attentive to the brunette’s sexual needs than before. There was something about seeing Shingo react to Iori’s indulgence in that built body that simply drove the redhead into a maddening state of lust. It was addicting to watch Shingo spasm with each thrust of Iori’s dick that stretched out that tight hole. His moans and screams of pleasure were nothing short of sweet ecstasy that filled the air thick with sweat and soot. Iori would always shoot out his semen inside of Shingo in loads as other shot his spurts upon nirvana he would attain on the stomachs and chests of both. It was more intense than either could have imagined.

And then afterwards they would end up passing out until the morning on the floor, where Mature and Vice would come and unlock the door and kick Shingo out in his sweaty glory before either of the men would wake up to having neither next to the other. There they would remember that this was just an arrangement made by the devils that forced these two men partake in this contract neither signed up for. 

But at some point, Iori was acting differently.

Perhaps it was when Shingo let Iori know of the truth of his and Kyo’s clans? Or when Iori became too conscious of Shingo’s presence? Or when Iori was told the truth about this “contract” that Vice and Mature? A mixture of all three reasonings, possibly?

But it seemed that Iori did not want to kill Kyo as much as Shingo thought? No, that wasn’t quite right either. If anything, Iori would interact with Shingo less than harassing Kyo. The redhead would have usually glared at the Kusanagi disciple if he saw him, but now he was just ignored. When Shingo asked if it had to do with Orochi upon one of his forced visits, Iori told him he should not involve himself even though he would make sure to crush every remnant of the god that tormented his veins. Sometimes, Iori would just refuse to eat or have sex with Shingo. The issue of sex did not bother Shingo as much as the eating part.

Shingo still came over to visit this rustic dwelling of the Yagami, considering he had no say in anything. But each subsequent visit was met with Iori only growing further irritated at the two beautiful haunts who kept kidnapping the man with an annoyingly determined gaze. Iori would close the door on them or forcibly throw Shingo out, leaving the moody man to deal with Vice and Mature himself.

And today was no different. Iori denied Shingo entry a many hours ago, who then left to either go train or work or whatever he did that Iori knew of. So it left him to argue with the annoying snakes in his home that tormented him.

“We don’t think you want us to do the work for you, Yagami.” Mature threatened. 

“He squirmed enough to escape us last time.” Vice smirked.

“He doesn’t even realize he would be putting his little family at risk…” Mature mockingly worried in a feigned tone of concern.

Iori pulled out his hand with his purple flame in tow.

“Oh my! What a sudden reaction to a joke!” Mature faked a small gasp. 

“Afraid we’ll break your toy before you do, Yagami?” Vice cackled.

Iori glared, readying his stance to lash out at the crimson sadist.

“Now, now. All that has to be done here is to have him brought over.” Mature giggled smugly.

“I’ll end you!” Iori charged.

Ding dong

The air froze. Iori froze. But Vice and Mature cackled into the shadows.

Dingdongdingdongdi~ingdo~ng.

Iori irritatedly opened the door knowing full well who it was without the need to check. The annoying brunette came back with a bag, presumably food from work with some extra meat. He looked a little shaky, possibly nervous, his face looking like he was holding back. Anger? Sadness? Tears? 

Iori began to close the door.

“Wait! Yagami-san!” Shingo exclaimed before reaching for the wood of the door. “YE-OWWWWCH!”

Iori was much stronger than Shingo. So naturally, he wound up closing the door on those rough fingers he would hold during sex.

“Potato—” The now slightly panicked man swung the door wide open.

BONK

“OUCH! MY FOREHEAD! MY HAND OWOWOWWWWW!!!” 

Iori had now struck Shingo’s forehead with the door. Somehow the food was still in tact. But to avoid anymore problems, Iori dragged Shingo inside, where the two Hakkeshu seemed to have disappeared. One bandaged set of fingers and an ice pack to the forehead and a later and Iori interrogated him.

“Why are you here? I told you to never come back.” Iori clicked his tongue.

“You looked paler than usual so consider it a check up…” Shingo nervously explained. “You look worse than the earlier…”

“That’s none of your business.” Iori snapped back.

“I-It is my business!” Shingo stood up.

“Says who?”

“Says me! I know we don’t see eye to eye, but!”

“You’re the one who’s kidnapped against your will to come here.”

“Not like you had much say in it either!”

“Understand that those two snakes aren’t to follow around. You’re better off not involving yourself any longer.”

“And leave you to deal with it by yourself? Stop being so difficult, Yagami-san!”

“You’re even more difficult to deal, you joke!”

“Then this joke will drag himself deeper!” 

Iori pinned Shingo to the wall. He had enough. Enough with all the emotions. Enough with the idle chatter. Enough with this pity. Why did this idiot have to keep coming back? Why can’t this idiot leave him alone now?

“I’ll smite you!”

“Do it! It wouldn’t be the first time!”

Shingo stared into Iori’s crimson eyes, unwavering this time. The cursed man really did not like this determined side of this nuisance of a human at all. Iori’s heart would riddle with unease the longer he was stared down. It made Iori just want to grab him and ki—

“I’m sorry…” Shingo suddenly backed off, his expression now solemn. “You had your reasons. Not like we were friends close enough to share details about our lives. Neither one of us even wanted to do any of this to begin with…”

Iori let him go without a word, looking down. He clenched his jaw.

The air grew cold and unwelcoming. Despite their physical bodies being so close they can touch, their their words had never made them more distant. There was no lie in what was said. This friendly farce they developed in this twisted ‘obligatory’ relationship had no deeper meaning to it. It was only a means to survive this strange predicament.

It would have been easier to smite this idiot brunette enough to land him in the hospital for his persistence. The fact that Iori kept hesitating with him meant that he needed to get his act together. He needed to get rid of Shingo one way or another.

“I’ll just leave…” Shingo finally said.

And with that, the physical violence route was cut. The red dot of a pupil watched the defeated man trudge to the door, picking up his backpack. The wince of discomfort of using an injured hand to lift the backpack was a pathetic sight. Iori deeply inhaled in silence as the door handle was turned.

“So you’re giving up?” The redhead scoffed.

Shingo balled his bandaged hand into a tight fist.

“Giving up?” The brunette said incredulously. “Are you expecting me to run after you a second time?” His heart hurt.

“Do whatever you want then.” Iori’s tone did not give a damn. 

However, the brute’s heart and words were mismatched.

PUNCH.

But it was too late now. Shingo has had enough trying to find answers and understanding this heartless flipflop!

The punch landed on that chiseled cheek. That thick neck craned just a bit, his head now turned. Those small pupils made even smaller from he magnitude of this surprise. It was quite the critical hit. 

“If you’re done, then I’m done!” It was a tear-ridden yell from the emotionally hurt man. 

Placing a hand to the cheek Shingo punched before turning his head to meet those angered eyes, Iori had to process this sensation. Iori knew Shingo was strong, but never expected his temper to blow up. It was a punch that was worthy of a KOF competitor, one that could burn hotter than any Kusanagi or Yagami flame should it emit any; but it instead belonged to man who had no real control of his emotions of passionate anger and desperation. As quick as those eyes drenched in anger and pain, upon realization of what he had done, they faltered into regret.

“Y-Yagami-san, I-I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Shingo immediately apologized. 

Iori outstretched his hand in a claw-like manner. 

“You slug me after I made you mad and now you regret it? Can’t you even properly get angry?” Iori scolded. He was tired of this man feeling sorry for everything. How was he ever able to come out of KOF alive? 

Iori Yagami needed Shingo Yabuki out of his life. 

He needed to kill him.

A purple glow emitted from his hand.

“Do you want me to leave or not?” Shingo asked him.

Iori Yagami extinguished the light that grew in his hand, much like how he was extinguishing the light from Shingo Yabuki’s eyes with his aggression. Even if Iori had done it before, he did not even want to use his flames to hurt Shingo right now. But he knew better than anyone that it was impossible to hurt that man anymore than he already did emotionally.

“Well?” Shingo waited for the answer. He wanted the real answer.

It was so unfair of Iori to push and pull Shingo with words so cruel before trying to take them back. The latter really thought they were finally getting along. He thought he could finally have answers to what was going on with Iori, and, by extension, whatever these circumstances they landed themselves in. The tears were nonstop rolling, followed by deep inhales with a scent that burned the insides of his nostrils. It burned greater than any of worst the purple flames would ever be able to.

“…You and your attitude reek as bad as your apartment right now!” Shingo yelled at him before grabbing his bag. He turned around one last time. “Keep the food.”

SLAM

“Eeek!” Shingo felt a hand slap the door before he could open it. Turning his head around, Shingo saw sparks come from Iori’s grinding teeth that accompanied a menacing stare. 

“You’re seriously saying that now, you nuisance?” Iori was now insulted. He pulled out a threateningly small fire. The insult about his apartment smelling bad really got to him. Forget his pained heart, he was straight up irritated! This was supposed to be serious!

“You should learn to take responsibility for what you say and do, Yagami-san! But clearly you need someone else to do that for you!” Shingo argued back. “My nose is seriously burning right now!”

“Stop talking about how bad it smells here and just leave like you said you would, you moldy potato!” Iori seethed. He was being made a fool of.

“I can’t help it! It really burns worse than your flames!” Shingo had trouble speaking. “Yagami-san please hold more respect for yourself and where you live! Seriously, what died in here?”

“Are you gonna do something about it or do you want me to throw you out for yapping?” Iori grabbed him by the shirt.

Shingo gave it a quick thought. If this is where they end it, he might as well leave Iori with a decent memory instead of potential regret. All he wanted was to visit and see how he was managing and even get answers for his recent cold attitude. Shingo could not bear the thought that Iori was suffering alone and pushing him away without properly communicating with him about his woes. But if Iori never saw him as someone who means something to him, then the Kusanagi disciple would rather stay in his lane once more.

‘Will anything change if I say something? Or should I stay?’ Shingo’s general thoughts strayed.

“I’m waiting.” Iori leaned in, tightening the shirt. 

“I’ll clean! After tonight, I’ll leave!” Shingo said on a whim. 

“Fine.” Iori let go, walking away.

“You help too. After all, you live here.” Shingo narrowed his eyes with a cute little pout. He started picking up stray clothes, gathering a small pile quickly.

“…” Iori was quiet, letting this new snowball crumble to keep this temporary peace.

And so, Shingo forced Iori to clean alongside him. Considering the brunette was shooed away at every convenience each time he was dragged to Iori’s place, it unfortunately allowed a hoarder’s mess to pile up in the redhead’s cave of an apartment. Luckily, Shingo had cleaned Iori’s place before and easily, so it was not the biggest issue figuring out how to tackle this common mess. With the cursed of the Orochi blood, Iori chose not to have as much material attachment to begin with aside from his bass guitar. 

And now here they were, working together to clean this dingy place. It was intense gathering all of the clothes scattered about. They had made a small mountain before dividing them into their proper color groups. With a pile in tow, Iori was forced to carry his laundry to the machine that Shingo needed to teach him on, an object Shingo recommended he buy with the assistance of his landlord. The back of that head that sported the brown hair and white sash began to glisten itself into a slight bounce as he yapped to the Yagami about something related to laundry. Iori was too lost in the little details of his peeking facial features. Shingo’s explanation of how to use the machine itself was accompanied by gestures and varying facial expressions that ranged from bright and eager to stern and lecturing. His voice was as colorful as notes on a music sheet.

“Did you catch all that, Yagami-san?” Shingo asked.

Iori blinked. He did not catch all that.

“No.” Iori said, deadpanned.

Shingo stared at him, blinking a couple of times. His wide eyes were so cute.

“It must have been too wordy…” He chuckled. ‘Can Yagami-san even survive like this now?’

“Show me.” Iori said, almost in a commanding tone. 

“Sure!” The brunette said eagerly.

Shingo smiled. He finally smiled at him today. Iori’s heart throbbed into flutters. 

This time he listened to Shingo. He did get a couple of things wrong, but nothing disastrous. And it was the same each time. Shingo would explain something to Iori, only for the lummox to not hear a single thing, remembering how it was Shingo that got said object to make it easier for him, and then finally the both of them work on it together with the slightest of smiles.

“All that’s left is the dishes,” Shingo told him.

“I don’t need a tutorial.” Iori stated.

“I would be concerned if you did.” 

“Just help me get these done, potato.” There was a hint of a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah.” This one had a chuckle to it.

And so Iori and Shingo washed the dishes together. They were a little more quiet than the previous chores. But in a way they let this silence linger for a bit. Shingo was the sudser and rinser while Iori was the hand dryer. 

The redhead, however, stole some glances of the brunette beside him. His hands were gloved, but his shirt was wet, water spraying in light splashes. A leer traced the wet fabric to the definition of his chest, followed by his buff arms. Now that Iori thought about it, Shingo had slightly wider frame as a muscular man. He looked so much smaller under him. Despite the size, something about this dishwatered man right now seemed so erotic.

“WA-WAOH!”

SPLASH SPLASH

“Ya-Yagami-s-s-s-san… s-s-s-sorry!” Shingo stammered.

Iori was snapped out of his lecherous thought and was suddenly blinded by his own hair. Shingo let the handle of the faucet slip and it splashed both him and Iori completely. 

To be fair, Shingo had every right to fear Iori right now. This was a very dumb mistake that would warrant a beating of some sort. Granted they had a huge argument earlier that almost everything with a punch and a chance that Shingo would absolutely die, no one liked being splashed by water.

“L-let me help you!” Shingo reached out his hands.

Before a single protest could be uttered, dry hands touched the flaccid red hair, splitting it down the middle and opening them like a curtain before shutting them closed suddenly. It did not suit the gruff man at all. Some pittering of the needlepoint hair and it was lifted and slicked back. A little skip of the heart at the handsomeness of this man with a red cheek from being punched would make anyones’ knees wobble and crumble to the ground.

And so, Iori Yagami was finally able to see. And it was a madly blushing and doe-eyed Shingo Yabuki he laid his eyes on. The curious shock of his slightly parted lips were so close to his own. He could still feel those now-wet hands still holding his red hair back. The cuteness of this man reflected in those tiny pupils would make anyones’ heart race.

They stared into each others’ eyes, their hearts pounding madly. They felt their breaths close, warm and moist, dampening their skin. Bodies so close they felt parts of each other they would only see in intimate settings.

“Yagami-san?” Shingo rasped.

“What is it?” Iori responded, his voice was low.

“Is your cheek alright?” There was hesitation in moving hands.

But then the bigger hand brought the damp hand to the reddened cheek that was bruised earlier by that punch in their argument.

“Touch it and see if I am.” Was the response.

It was warm. Damp as well, but warm. Slightly swollen as well. But one would never know by looking at it. Not even a reaction to the touch. A gentle caress made it heal even faster.

“It’s burning.” The final verdict.

“Can’t feel a thing.” Iori then proceeded to ask Shingo, “What about your hand?”

Eyes still locked into each other, the now-dried hand was then slid by the bigger hand and to a softer position— Iori’s lips. A single chu vibrated delicately into Shingo’s ears. Electricity traveled down Shingo’s back.

“I-It’s a b-b-bi-bit sensitive and it p-pinches, but I th-th-think it’s f-f-f-fine!” Shingo was flustered into a stammer.

“Your head?” Iori was still deadpan and unfazed. He squeezed his hand just a little tighter.

“A-A little so-sore… B-But I’ll p-p-p-probably get a bruise by t-tomorrow! Nothing s-s-s-serious.” The brunette shifted his eyes before turning his head, breaking their eyes from their kissing gaze.

“If you say so.” Iori said nonchalantly.

Shingo pulled his hand away when Iori tried to kiss it again. 

“S-sorry for splashing you…” Shingo pivoted, apologizing. He stood up suddenly, walking away, showing Iori only his back. “I’ll go draw the bath for you.”

And so the flustered man disappeared into the bathroom to prepare the bath, leaving Iori to register this sudden rejection. Never has there been the pain of yearning than such as the one in Iori’s heart. It wasn’t the first time this has happened in general, but ever since Orochi awakened in him, he had to keep it in check.

SLAM. 

A crack appeared on the counter.

‘Fuck.’ Iori cursed at himself. What a coward the Orochi-blooded man was about acting on his instinct.

Meanwhile, equal turmoil was felt in the kind heart of Shingo. He wanted to check on Iori, but he had to stop himself.

 ‘I said that this would be the last time, didn’t I?’  Shingo was lost. 

First no, then yes, then anger, then calm. Shingo had no clue how to approach Iori’s mixed signals. Any question he had was met with an answer but then moments later it was the exact opposite. Shingo knew Iori was a closed off individual from even their first official meeting in 1997, but it’s been over six years since that initial encounter and possibly more than five months since they have been glued together in their current predicament.

Shingo watched the running waterfall fill the tub.

“Aren’t we friends? Maybe not friends… but at least something…” He mumbled aloud. ‘What do I even want with Yagami-san if he keeps pulling me around like this? What does he want?’

Shingo asked more questions that confused him. He came up with answers that were pretty honest in nature, such as helping Iori or wanting to understand him. Even chuckling at his answer of thinking he was pretty nice at times. 

‘But that’s not it…’ His face was solemn. His heart ached.

His heart knew the answer, but his brain refused to call it as such.

Ding! 

Broken out of his trance from the ping of a filled tub, Shingo shook his head, slapping his cheeks once to switch into gear. Now chipper, he announced: 

“Yagami-san! The bath is ready”

The sound of heavy steps grew louder until there were shifts and shuffles of slight grunts and clothes thrown on the floor. Sliding the door open was Iori, who was now confronting Shingo nakedly. Iori looked at the slightly shorter man for a brief moment before taking the shower ladle and spraying himself with it.

Shingo stepped out, undressing himself before coming back in with a towel wrapped around his hip. Iori was sitting on a stool, holding the ladle of water, but did nothing except let it run down his back.

“Want me to wash your hair for you, Yagami-san?” Shingo asked.

“I don’t care either way. Just follow the directions on my bottles like you usually do.” Iori told him.

“W-will do.”

The brunette took shampoo and lathered the greasy haired redhead. The mirror that reflected the both of them was slowly steaming up. There were slight heavy breaths coming from Iori, indicating his satisfaction. As much as it eased Shingo a bit, his shoulders still felt stiff. He was becoming nervous s his heart was leaping out.

“Yagami-san…” Shingo mustered up his courage.

“…” Iori shifted his head a little at the mention of his name. 

The mirror had already fogged up Iori’s head, leaving Shingo the only one on display. The visible man bit his lower lip.

“If there is a way I can help, please tell me…” He said.

Iori breathed in a little, his back slightly cracking as his back straightened a little. Shingo really was still too sweet and kind. Despite everything they bared to each other physically, this ogre felt that the innocent man didn’t need to know about his torment. Iori’s pathetic side was only to be for his mind only. 

“Nothing worth explaining to an outsider like you.” Iori said coldly as the suds and bubbles hid his face, stinging his eyes. He refused to involve Shingo with his problems.

Shingo briefly stopped lathering Iori’s hair at ‘outsider’ before resuming.

“S-sorry for prying then, Yagami-san.” Shingo apologized, his voice less audible than before.

Iori said nothing as his head drooped low with his hair and shampoo massaged with those gentle hands that changed emotions with every little word spoken or gestured. They felt so sad this time.  

“I’ll work on heating up the dinner I brought after I wash your back.” Shingo mentioned.

As the latherer reached over with a loofa to wash the lathered’s back, his wrist was grabbed by a larger one.

“I can do it myself. Go worry about yourself” Iori’s low voice muttered.

Rejected once more, Shingo’s face fell even more defeated in the reflection of the mirror before it completely fogged up. 

“… okay…” He could only mumble.

Shingo stepped back and tended to his own showering, pulling up another little stool nearby, but kept his distance. He kept to himself, letting the water seep into his hair and skin.

Between the two of them, it was quiet. Not a single word stirred in that deafening silence. Both men had lumps in their throats, unable to say a thing. The brunette could not look at the man sitting near him, for if he did, he may begin to cry. He was so scared even though he wanted to meet those eyes again. His mind pleaded for the the redhead to look at him and say something. Not a single word stirred, but the brunette failed on noticing that the redhead observed his depression from the corners of his eyes, watching how his head hung low with his brown hair lathered in his shampoo. 

Those deadpanned eyes could see the bulked muscle and bruises from his hard work of training and fighting flex and release with the slightest movement. Those legs toned but reserved and a bit closed off, hiding his lower half. His back soon hunched over in a slouch, revealing all the remaining bruises and bites left by the observer who could only admire him for a whole five minutes before turning away to focus on himself. 

Shingo, none the wiser, did not realize that Iori simply stared at him for the better of his entire showering. He quietly stood up, took his towel, and walked away to the door without even a glance at the redhead.

“Don’t forget to dip into the bath.” Shingo was acting like a parent now.

“And you?” Iori mentally noted his docile demeanor.

“I have to prepare dinner, so a quick shower is enough. I’m too busy anyways to treat myself to a bath.” That was his explanation. “But you don’t have to worry about me, Yagami-san.” 

“You have until I leave that bath then.”

“Noted.”

And he left Iori in there alone with the steaming tub. He stood over and looked at his reflection in the water before noticing something poking over water he was about to enter. His face lacked any initial emotion, but could not stop thinking about the man who he kept rejecting. He looked at it for a moment before laughing to himself manically in disbelief. How punishing it was, embarrassing even, that for a moment Iori Yagami preferred Orochi taking over as opposed to his own body betraying him.

Such was a throbbing erection that refused to go down.

Shingo had heard Iori laugh his usual maniacal laugh as he got dressed in a spare t-shirt and boxers the Orochi had conveniently laid out beforehand. They were a bit tight but it would have to do in his limited time to have dinner prepared. With a towel around his neck, Shingo went to work to heat up this dinner he brought.

With a fluff of some leftover rice, Shingo had the previously made meat stew on the gas for a bit. He poached two eggs before sitting them on the meat with a little green onion on top. It was a little something he thought of to at least add something fresh. He hoped for a positive opinion on the food. 

Yet, it hurt. Everything hurt. From his muscles to his heart and to his brain, Shingo was just hurt. He wanted to cry from it all. This feeling felt worse than when he had his first time with Iori. It hurt to be rejected by him rather than Kyo rejecting him by being with his girlfriend Yuki. Even more worse than when Kyo told him he was not cut out for KOF. 

Shingo Yabuki felt worthless. He cried as quietly as he could without Iori hearing him.

But with how small Iori’s place was, it was impossible not to hear. Iori looked at the ceiling from his tub, listening to the muffled sobs that came from outside the bathroom. The sound of warmth and steam added to his persistent discomfort. He did his best to ignore it, waiting for it to go down. It was giving him a migraine powerful enough to get rid of his reacting lower half soon after.

It was not long before the smell of the food lured Iori out of the bath. Dressed only in some boxers and pajama pants with a towel thrown onto his head, Iori stepped out and hovered over to Shingo before seeing how focused he was at creating this food dish and hearing a slight sniffle. He stepped back with slow steps from his pounding headache, refusing to interfere. he sat on his couch, waiting as he slightly turned his head to watch, his fingers digging into the couch.

When Shingo was ready to serve the dinner, he realized Iori was there, hair still dripping wet. He watched him for a few seconds longer. Iori’s back was so broad with peeking scratches slowly healing from how tightly Shingo would hold onto him as the redhead made him scream and moan. When was the last time they even did it together? It has been a few weeks. Not that Shingo minded at all, but there was a sense of warmth that accompanied their intense and rough sex. He kind of missed those arms wrapping around him a little.

“Is that food done or are you going to keep staring?” Iori called him out.

Shingo jolted. He forgot they were going to stop seeing each other.

“Sorry… I’ll be right over with it…” He said.

“…” Iori’s eyes shifted to the side.

He made a mistake again. He did not want this many apologies. When will it stop? It made the pounding worse.

“But before we eat, I’ll go get the fan. Your hair is still wet.” Shingo said.

“What’s the problem with it?” Iori combated, irritated.

“You’ll catch a cold like that.”

A cold? How stupid.

“That’s what grandmas tell kids to make them grow up to be naive. You’re barefoot and only in shirt and underwear.” Iori scoffed.

“Is that so bad then? To be naive and be concerned for the kid who won’t listen and then stunk bad. Besides, you’re barefoot without a shirt and in pants ready to slip off.” Shingo fired back.

“Annoying…” Iori clenched his fist. He lost that one. His migraine was too much to argue.

“I could say the same for you. Sit still.” Shingo pressed his lips together. 

And so, for the first time ever, Shingo fanned Iori’s hair as he watched the food patiently. The red puff felt soft and warm, especially as Shingo ran his fingers through it. Iori never expected a clumsy goof like him to have that sort of handle on a pseudo flamethrower that could ruin his hair. But it felt nice. His head felt lighter from the touch.

“You have such soft hair Yagami-san. It reminds me of my sisters. One of them even asks me to braid it sometimes.” Shingo thought aloud. The soft red hair was very satisfying to blow dry. “You must really take care of it since you use the expensive bottles…”

“It does get expensive when there’s another person using it.” Iori responded casually.

Shingo froze. He made a mistake.

“S-sorry… I didn’t mean to say that…” Shingo was now uncomfortable.

“Just keep talking.” Iori commanded softly. That voice was soothing.

“I-I’m almost d-done…” Shingo’s heart pounded. He didn’t want to make things worse.

“I need noise, so just keep talking, you potato.”

“O-okay.”

It was difficult for Shingo to say more things. He felt like he was forcing himself to talk. It was awkward. But Iori had something to say after each thing, whether it was a grunt of agreement or a casual quip. The discomfort went away soon after, Shingo returning to the usual chatterbox Iori was used to. The peaceful blaring of the warm fan amidst the mostly one-sided conversation between them, Iori was soothed by the very man he kept distancing himself from. He drifted away into a calm sleep.

“Yagami-san, I think that’s it for your hair. Let’s eat dinner...” Shingo finally said as he put the fan down.

With food in hand he came around and noticed a not even a single stir come from Iori.

”Yagami-san?” Shingo asked before going around the couch, only to be met with a rare sight:

Iori Yagami was lightly snoozing away at a time that wasn’t bedtime after sex.

Iori’s elbow sat on the couch arm as his hand sat on his face that leaned against it. His bare chest slowly expanded and collapsed, his breathing paced and relaxed. It seemed that the warmth of blowdrying his hair had put him to sleep, with Shingo not giving his rambling a second thought to contribute to Iori’s lulling into sleep.

Shingo sighed a little with a sad smile. He put the bowls down on the table, covering them with some plastic wrap, before going to the closet to pull out a blanket. As he pulled it out, he looked back at the redhead and blushed a little before looking back the blanket he needed to pull. He then brought it over to the sleeping man. 

“Yagami-san must have been pretty tired, huh?” Shingo whispered. “I’ve always thought this, but he really is handsome. If only his personality was a bit nicer…Who knows, maybe I would have followed you instead of Kusanagi-san, Yagami-san.” Shingo whispered to himself. He then shook his head. “But I’m just an outsider…”

He then gently laid the blanket over Iori the best he could without waking him. The waterworks were about to start once more. Maybe Shingo was not cut out for this. Not KOF. Not the Kusanagi clan. Not even Iori.

YANK.

“Wh-whOAH!” Shingo yelped.

Shingo Yabuki was pulled in by the collar of the shirt by a supposedly sleeping Iori Yagami, dragging him forward into his broad-shouldered chest. Somehow the sleeping man adjusted himself to have them both laying down. Iori was against the wall of the couch as he held Shingo’s head to his chest, choking him a little. His other arm acted as a pillow of sorts to support both heads.

As for Shingo, his heart tried to break itself out of his chest. It was not unusual for him to be in Iori’s arms, usually since they would have sex. But this was an entirely different feeling. 

It was oddly warm and comforting— safe. He would have never thought that Iori Yagami was even capable of a hug, no less a cuddle. They meant nothing to each other. They were enemies (Shingo claimed), with only one common thing that tied them together (Shingo thought). This act… 

It was too affectionate… like they were lovers.

And it was suffocating.

Shingo found it suffocating because Iori never made it seem that way whenever they were together. At best, they were a coerced sex fling. And yet, Shingo secretly wanted more of this feeling that they were more than that.

But he needed to leave. And no matter how much he pulled, Iori would not let go. This brute of a man already pushed him away, more than once, only to warm up to him again. This game of hot and cold was too much for Shingo. He was itching to leave. He needed to save his heart from any further cracks that would lead to his shatter.

“Stop squirming.” Iori revealed himself to be awake.

“Yagami-san?!” Shingo was completely blindsided.

“Sleep you potato.” A simple command.

“B-But the food!” An excuse.

“We’ll eat later.” Too nonchalant.

“But I have to leave afterward!” Panic.

“Just sleep!” His grip tightened.

The air between them was silent once more. Today was a rollercoaster of flip-flipping of attitudes. But Shingo easily gave up this time. He did not have the energy in him to fight back any longer. Yet, for some reason, he easily fell asleep against the beating rhythm of Iori’s heart. Shingo thought it was funny that he had a heart, falling asleep rather quickly.

Little did he realize that Iori’s heart was fragile for him. Iori had so much he wanted to say to him, but to say anything would mean that Shingo would fall into a deeper rabbit hole of darkness. He already saw glimpses by following Kyo and entering The King of Fighters tournament and even almost dying to protect Kyo. 

“I can’t keep you around a monster like me ready to lose control. The moment I found out why those liars brought you here, I snapped. It was easier to cut you off… but you kept coming coming back. It got harder to let go of you when each time. Orochi will hurt you and you won’t survive like you did last time. So why won’t you realize it and stay away like everyone else, you moron?”

The words spoken were low. They were cold, yet twinged with sadness. Even though the object of such affection slept with an annoyingly loud snore, the admirer could not bring himself to wake him so rudely. The cold yearner was so dismissive— so HURTFUL— that he almost regret treating him as such, even if it was to protect him. He cared too much for the disciple of his blood-fated enemy of his affection who only thought of others at the cost of himself. Something about him resonated with Iori’s flame. Iori’s may have been purple, but Kyo’s was red. To make purple, there only needed to be a drop of blue. 

“Fuck…” he redhead cursed under his breath. 

He covered his eyes with his arm upon this revelation he refused to name. 

Iori needed to sleep.

When morning rolled the sun up from its earthen bed, its rays illuminated through the blinds of Iori’s apartment, bouncing the dark walls with lasers of light yellow pillars. In the shadows of the corners emerged two figures of darkness, the demonesses Mature and Vice, whose heels clacked up to the couch of the two sleeping fighters. Shingo peacefully slept sloppily in Iori’s arm that still had a chokehold on his neck to keep him close.

But Shingo, being a pupil of the Kusanagi heir, had to wake up early for training. His alarm was usually set for seven in the morning. If he was at home, generally he would wake up and get ready and go for a jog before that.

YANK. 

However, that was not the case today.

PULL.

“Hya! Gahmisa!” Shingo choked in barely audible gasps.

This morning was unlike any other, as Shingo Yabuki was in for deadly awakening when he was being choked by Iori Yagami’s forearm hugging his neck as the two Orochi fiends each pulled on one leg to drag him to his strangulating death.

His eyes were bulging out, straining his nerves. Saliva dripped out as his chokes for air were trapped behind his air pipes. His neck was being stretched too far. Shingo clawed at Iori’s arm best he could to wake him up.

“The boy seems to be matching his dormant flame color. Let’s have him match Orochi’s purple flame instead” Mature seductively spoke.

‘I’m gonna die! Hurry, Yagami-san, wake up! I’m gonna—!’ Shingo was mentally screaming for help.

fwish!

Shingo suddenly stopped choking, gasping inhales of air. He was so lightheaded that he fainted seeing the color purple bouncing in front of his eyes.

But the purple was no ordinary purple.

It was the flame that came from Iori’s hand. It pushed the two Hakkeshu away from pulling on Shingo’s legs.

“So, today is the day you chose to die again.” Iori threatened, fully awake.

“My, my, since when did you get so protective, Yagami?” Mature bit her fingernail playfully.

“Shut it!” Iori sent a fire whisping at them.

“Looks like the brat finally tamed you.” Vice cackled.

“I’ll end you!” Iori snarled.

“The fact that both of you fell for it. Men are so simple.” Mature remarked.

“So, Yagami, give us the cute boy,” Vice was becoming manic with sadism. “We’ll make sure he~.”

“He’ll leave when I say so.” Iori cut the crazed sadist off.

“Oh? Be sure to watch over him then. You wouldn’t want to see him get taken by someone else, right?” Mature veiled her threat thinly.

“His smiling face he shows you is so cute I want rip it off.” Vice smiled devilishly.

“Die!” Iori lashed his flames out at the two ghouls once more. 

“You no longer play with us, Yagami. A shame, really. No matter, knowing you prefer your current fling isn’t an issue.” Mature giggled.

“We’ll be back to play with you both again. Give in to Orochi next time. You were so close this time.” Vice playfully hissed.

And with that, the two Hakkeshu left Iori alone with a passed out Shingo. Iori checked to make sure he was still breathing, listening to his heart beat as his chest rose and fell. Iori wiped his face with a towel, funny faces forming on the dope’s face as it was wiped. He then covered him with a blanket to allow him to sleep peacefully. That was way too close.

Iori, settling down from the adrenaline to relief, looked over on the table and saw two bowls of food from last night left untouched. It looked appetizing to him despite it sitting out from last night. For all he knew, it was spoiled. But he didn’t care. Iori just didn’t want the food prepared for him by the hardworking Kusanagi trainee to go to waste. He ate both of them after realizing how hungry he was. It was pretty good, save for the eventual stomach problem he opened himself up to. 

Following the inhale of the spoiled breakfast, Iori sat back and watched the sleeping Shingo for a bit. His chest rose and fell with no snoring in sight. It was unbelievable to see him still asleep. In fact, Iori had never seen Shingo sleep past his mornings when the brunette was kicked out. And even when Iori was awake some nights, he could never see what expression he was making. But now, his expression was on full display: a warm smile.

“Ya…gam…sah…” Shingo mumbled in his sleep. 

Iori then caressed that puffy cheek of the sleeping man whose words of yesterday echoed in his mind.

“Stop being so difficult, Yagami-san!”

“I’m sorry…”

“Giving up? What do you mean “giving up”?”

“If there is a way I can help, please tell me…”

“You’ll catch a cold like that.”

“You have such soft hair Yagami-san”

“I’m just an outsider…”

Iori really did not deserve Shingo’s kindness with the way he treated him.

“Ya…gami-san…?”

Shingo had woken up. Iori was still caressing his cheek. The redhead pulled his hand away slowly.

“Finally decided to wake up now, huh potato?”

“I’m still here? Usually I’m left outside in the mornings…” Shingo said. “To tell you the truth I had a strange dream, but it felt so real…” He then noticed the way Iori was staring at him. It was unlike he had ever seen before, touching his neck at the sensation. 

“…”

“Yagami-san? Do I have something on my face?” Shingo asked, touching his face curiously.

Iori leaned in a little.

“Were you going to say you had a dream… those two grabbing your feet, forcing you to choke while you were supposed to sleep in my arm?” He said.

“That’s it! You had the same dream too, Yagami-san?”

“It actually happened.”

“O-oh… I must have passed out then…”

“You did.” There was no sugar coating it at all.

“I figured as much.” 

Shingo tried to smile but it fell immediately. 

“I should probably leave now… considering what I said.” He said.

Iori clenched his fist.

“Do it now. And make sure you never come back while you’re at it.” It was said so low it was a mutter.

“I’ll make sure I won’t get in your way then, Yagami-san. I’m an outsider after all.”

There it was again, Iori’s words coming to bite him once more. Why did he have to feel like trash when Shingo looked like a kicked lapdog? Why couldn’t Iori say that he didn’t need to go?

“Can I ask you something before I do leave, Yagami-san?” Shingo asked.

“What?” Short and rude. 

But Iori’s heart did a patter.

“Did Vice and Mature say anything? Did they threaten you?”

Iori paused and collected himself. At times, Shingo was a bit sharper than Iori was used to. He hated it when that happened, but he couldn’t hide it any longer, telling Shingo everything about the purpose of the false arrangement and what they told him before they disappeared into the shadows. The brunette intently listened, his face serious. Iori could tell he understood how serious this conversation about the truth of their entanglement was. However, Iori had something more important on his mind…

“Do you still feel it?” Iori asked.

“What feeling?” Shingo asked back, wondering what he meant.

“The feeling of being choked and grabbed.”

“Ah! Uhm… uh… a bit? If I could have some water or something warm.” Shingo gently ran his fingers against his throat. It felt heavy to swallow. His voice was a bit rough.

Iori immediately stood up from the couch and poured a glass of water for Shingo. It was a surprise to the brunette, as he had never known the redhead to do something so spontaneous. Usually he would tell him to get it himself or to do what he needed. He reminded Shingo of a cat. 

“Thank you…” Shingo smiled at him warmly. He thought Iori was a little cute for that.

“Just drink.” Iori ordered, turning his head away slightly to hide his embarrassment, his heart fuzzing intensely.

And Shingo obeyed, sipping his water. He then looked over to the table and saw two empty bowls sitting on the table. His eyes lit up momentarily.

“Yagami-san did you… eat both bowls of food… that sat out last night.” Shingo was completely surprised.

“… I was hungry.” It was half true. Iori could never tell him the real reason.

“You’ll get a stomach ache!” Shingo jumped off the couch. He tried to shimmy from the couch to find any medicine for the eventual stomach issue Iori would have.

Yank!

But he was dragged back onto the couch as soon as he stood up. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” The low voice almost threatened him.

Iori had Shingo land right on his lap, the brunette now straddling him. The already tight underwear Shingo was wearing began to tighten even more as both of their crotches rubbed casually against each other.

“You’re going to need medicine!” Shingo argued with the crazy man.

“I’ll be fine.” Iori dismissed the concern.

“But you need to—”

“I don’t care.”

“Are you crazy?!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I have to leave soon!”

“Where?”

“Where?! You’re the one who told me to leave!”

“You don’t have to.”

“Huh?!”

“Stay.”

“But!”

“Forget what I said about leaving.”

Words that were unheard of yesterday were now spoken today. Shingo blushed into shyness. Iori was still flip-flopping too quickly like a child. It didn’t take long before Shingo misunderstood that had to do with Mature and Vice and their toxic arrangement.

“Okay…” The brunette said. “I’ll stay put for now… it’s dangerous with them out there now.”

Iori shook his head.

“It has nothing to do with them. Just stay… I don’t want you to leave anymore.” He put a hand to Shingo’s cheek, caressing it.

There was no way Shingo could just leave from this (uncomfortable) position when Iori was acting so docile and desperate behind that crumbling emotionless mask. He could not help but feel touched by his words now. Shingo felt gullible, but he wanted to allow himself to fall for it for one last time.

“Then, Yagami–san, if you’re going to tell me to stay, then can you tell me what you’re thinking?” Shingo wanted at least something.

“I’m sorry.” Iori cut him off, pulling his hand away.

“Huh?” Shingo’s heart tensed.

“…I said I’m sorry,” Iori told him. It was so embarrassing that he clenched his teeth. “I’m not gonna say it again.”

Shingo blushed. It was fine. It was more than enough for him. He was so happy and relieved that he wrapped his arms around Iori. A sappy little hug that made both their hearts pound.

And the brute accepted the comfort of the potato. This reassurance was very much like the reassurance he had whenever he would come across a stray cat. His humanity validated by this gesture that would otherwise be rejected any other time. But what Iori felt for Shingo was not the same as he would for a cute animal. He denied giving this dangerous feeling a name, but knew he did not want to let go.

And from this revelation, Iori felt himself grow stiff down below. Adding to it, Shingo had this intoxicating smell to him that Iori never noticed before. Perhaps it was his sweat mixed with his natural scent that clung on to his built body. There was also a hint of his shampoo in there. He wanted to taste that flesh and lick it like it was candy right now. Even the underwear Iori loaned to Shingo was at least a size or two smaller than it should be for his build, even though he was bit smaller than Iori in endowment. Iori wanted to mark this cute man even more.

“You know… it won’t be easy taking these tight clothes off of you…” The now flirtatious redhead smirked as he leaned into the brunette wearing his shirt and underwear.

“Yagami-san what are you… h-hEY!” Shingo was getting flustered as Iori pulled and released the elastic of the underwear band. “Yagami-san I still need to eat breakfast! I didn’t even eat last night! I also need to make sure you don’t—mmph!”

Two sets of dried lips crashed into each other. One was forceful against the other, pressing in against the inexperienced one. Shingo was eaten by Iori like he was a sucker. The brute’s tongue licked every crevice of the cavern of the sweet potato, pulling him in and out of breath. 

“Yagha—mmn. Mmph. Nnn.”

Despite initial Shingo’s attempt to protest, Iori kept pressing in. It made the Kusanagi lapdog submit and continue with the kissing, unable to pull himself back from the Yagami tugging the invisible leash of his emerging addiction. The softness of Iori’s lips playfully claiming Shingo’s rough lips at a breathtaking pace made it difficult for the melting potato to keep up. 

Even if the Shingo wanted some time to breathe, he refused to fully break away. He barely knew how to breathe nor keep his saliva in check, as it was so electrifying that Shingo had no choice but to succumb to this blazing feeling. He drooled so sloppily that when Iori wanted a good look at that blissed face, it left a string of saliva to keep them both connected without breaking. The lust and yearning for each other reflected in their eyes as their chests pressed into each other, their hearts syncing. Iori jumped into those lips once more.

Iori kissed him even deeper, feeling Shingo’s toes curling back and forth against his thighs as though they were trying to stretch out further. The pits of their stomachs were now swollen to an unbearable tightness. Shingo grabbed Iori on his chest, pushing himself into it to pull him deeper into the kiss. Conversely, Iori obliged in digging his claws into Shingo’s underwear to spread his supple, yet muscled, squished cheeks. Shingo felt the erection of the man he straddled press into his own, sometimes toward his yearning hole, grinding in rhythm of the kissing.

They broke away for a moment, their breathing heavy from the exhilaration as they stared into each others’ desperate eyes. Shingo then dropped his head into Iori’s shoulder for a brief rest his panting increased in pace with the rubbing of their wrapped penises drenching themselves in their pre-cum wetness together. Iori nibbled, gnawed, sucked, and kissed whatever skin of Shingo as nearby, inhaling his intoxicating pheromones that served to up Iori’s roughness and drive for pleasure. These pent up emotions needed to be released.

“Ya… gami… san.” Shingo mustered to say repeated in his moans.

“Yabuki…” Iori only breathed once.

Shingo, at the single mention of his name, found strength and cupped either side of Iori’s face, desperately kissing him even more, dragging the both of them down, sinking into the couch, furthering their intense touch. Their bodies tangled to fit on the smaller and softer piece of furniture, Iori indulging in his breakfast below him, savoring each bite of his flesh— outside AND inside— thoroughly finishing all of his plates.

It was midday when Shingo Yabuki found himself in Iori Yagami’s bathtub leaning against the broad chest he was glued to all day. The blanket of water covered all of the bites Iori took out of him, save for his neck. But little did Shingo know, Iori had put some thoughts of his own together and decided to discuss about something other than killing Kyo as a topic starter.

“You annoy me." Iori said out loud.

“Yagami-san you’ll get people to dislike you if you’re that honest about them.” Shingo sighed a gentle scold.

But that was not what Iori meant. If there is one thing Iori hated (found annoying) to no end, it was how this painfully average person managed to wheedle his way into his view. They were enemies by virtue of association, yet they bonded over the same thing in their own way. And even though the redhead would push him away, the brunette somehow came back with an annoying determination that was almost impressive. The Yagami Clan never really liked to show their feelings, not even to their own children. So seeing an outsider like Shingo Yabuki was an anomaly. It was laughable to Iori how warm this welcoming air of the kindred soul named Shingo affected him. 

“How far do you get in KOF as a single entrant?” Iori asked.

“Hmmm… about more than half way… I think…” Shingo answered.

“Then I guess you can handle one of them; Considering you fight freaks with actual abilities compared to you that can kill you.”

“H-hey! I can fight! I-In fact I managed to beat—”

“Don’t get so uptight about me complimenting you. You’re ruining the mood.”

“You were complimenting me?”

“Did you already forget you saved Kyo years ago from that damn Orochi, Yabuki?” Iori looked at the claw scar on Shingo’s shoulder he inflicted on the man back then when they were on a team.

“Yeah… I did do that… protect Kusanagi-san…” Shingo had a little shy, but proud, smile at the memory.

“…” 

Iori did not like hearing the name of his rival coming out of Shingo’s mouth like that. He also expected Shingo to at least react better to his last name being used, since it would be the first time Shingo could hear it outside of sex.

Iori turned that head to him and kissed him on the lips. 

Maybe it was something in the water or the steam getting to him, but Iori felt it was right. He and Shingo had kissed plenty of times this morning in the heat of the moment, even shutting up the latter up from ruining the mood at times. But this was something else for the Orochi-blooded man entirely. Not only did he want to be the only one kissing Shingo, but he didn't want to think about seeing him with anyone else, including Kyo.

“Yagami-san, what was that for?”

“…” Iori held back from saying anything to this cute idiot. “Kyo can take care of himself. You on the other hand…”

“What about me?” Shingo pouted.

“You need to defend yourself better. I won’t be watching you unless you’re where I can see you.” Iori said possessively..

“You make it sound like my life is in danger, Yagami-san…”

“It is with those two running around.”

“They won’t… hurt my parents and sisters… right?”

“They’ll do anything to torment you.”

“Then I can’t let myself lose to them.” Shingo said, a little determined.

Each time Shingo spoke, Iori’s heart kept fluttering. This foreign feeling he did not want to acknowledge pissed him off. Yet he felt more pissed about being unable to say anything.

“Fuck…” he cursed aloud while clenching his hands on either side.

“Yagami-san, is everything alright? Oh right! There was a crack on your counter I never saw before. Do we have to get a replacement? The landlord might get upset.” Shingo asked in concern before rambling a little.

There were times where Shingo said some of the most unsexiest things ever. It made Iori want him to read the mood a little more so he didn’t have to smite him. But this was Shingo he was talking about; he was way too adorable. 

“I'll make you a key… but next time tell me when you come over…” Iori admitted. He couldn’t stand how much his face burned saying those words.

Iori's heart pounded against his chest. How was Shingo to respond?

“You mean it?! It means I have to save up for one of those mobile cellphones since you’re hard to reach! But you’re really dead-set on not kicking me out?!” He was dumbfounded. Shingo Yabuki was completely dumbfounded. “You actually don’t hate me?”

Iori completely fell to the point of drowning below the water he was sitting in with this cute doofus. 

“Don’t put words in my mouth that I never said, you stupid potato.” He scolded Shingo as he grabbed his face. He would burn him if it weren’t for the fact they were in water. “Make sure you get that cellphone then. I don’t care how cheap.”

“Y-Yuhbuhmi-bahn. Dat huurrds!” Shingo tapped Iori’s death grip.

“Put two and two together fast enough and maybe I’ll grant you some mercy, if you stop acting like a slow lapdog!” Iori pinched it in more.

“Yuhbuhmi-baaaaaahn! OWBOWBOW”

Shingo was not able to put two and two together that day. But he still came over most days to hang out with Iori, even though most of the time it was sex, sometimes accompanied with an adventure like shopping or lounging around.

As for Iori, he did not know if he actually cared or if he was pissed about that day. As long as Shingo came over to hang out with him most days, Iori made no fuss unless he saw him with someone else, his jealousy then out in full swing to then stake his claim on his burnt potato.

For now their relationship remained this way, neither one admitting their obvious attraction to the other. It would take a while longer for that to happen.

XxXxX