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As a newly hired editor of Seidou Publishing, Sawamura Eijun was finally going to live out his dream working alongside mangaka and publishing his favorite genre of all time—shoujo manga.

Not boys’ love!

This had to be a mistake. It was a misunderstanding, that was all. He could get this sorted out and be assigned to the right department, there was no doubt in his mind, and yet Sawamura had gotten himself all worked up as he prepared for confrontation. He had a copy of his application in hand as well as proof of his acceptance. 

He took a deep breath and finally gained the courage to enter the office of the person in charge of hiring applicants, a woman named Takashima. Quickly and succinctly, Sawamura explained that he believed he was sent to the wrong department. Takashima agreed to double check his file, and Sawamura lingerd in her office with a sense of relief washing through his body, feeling more relaxed now that this was all getting sorted out. Sure, company mistakes happened sometimes, and this wouldn’t sour his opinion of Seidou Publishing, not at all! In no time, Sawamura would be redirected to the right floor, given the names of the various mangaka he’d be working with—obviously, they would be his favorite shoujo authors, since that’s the way it was in his dreams—and he’d be happily settled in the place he belonged!

“Hm, it looks like there’s no error here,” Takashima said as she looked up from her computer screen. Sawamura’s heart stopped—what? She had to be kidding around with him, there was no way Sawamura applied to be an editor of BL manga, of all things! Yet Sawamura’s heart sank as Takashima explained further. “It says right here that you, Sawamura Eijun, were hired to work under ‘King,’ which is the BL department.” She smiled a little bit and added, “I remember your application, Sawamura-kun. I was surprised to see another male editor interested in something outside of shounen.”

“B-But I didn’t apply for King’s editing department!” Sawamura protested incredulously. He waved his crinkled application around, desperate to get this fixed no matter what he had to do. “I wanted to be in Blossom, the shoujo department, Takashima-san! Shoujo!”

“Oh?” Takashima raised her eyebrow curiously. “That’s funny. Your application didn’t say that.”

“Wha—of course it did!” Sawamura argued, then paused to look down at his application with furrowed brows. “When asking which department I’d prefer to work in, I wrote it down here, plain and clear, that I want to work in—” Sawamura paused, feeling his gut twist slightly with the realization that Takashima was technically right. He read the answer on his application out loud, “—that I want to work in romance manga… but that’s shoujo!” He looked up at her pleadingly. “That’s very clearly shoujo, isn’t it?”

“You see,” Takashima sat back in her chair and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, “saying ‘romance manga’ is vague, Sawamura-kun. You didn’t specify which kind of romance. I’m terribly sorry to inform you that we currently have no positions open for an editor in our shoujo department, but we desperately need an editor in King’s department for one of our head BL mangakas.” Takashima fixed him with a critical expression. “You need a job, correct?”

Sawamura gave her a miserable expression. “W-Well, yeah—”

“Then it would be foolish to leave Seidou Publishing simply because you have to help publish same-sex roamnce rather than opposite-sex romance,” Takashima reasoned with him. She narrowed her eyes critically and lowly added, “But if it makes you that uncomfortable, we may have to reconsider keeping you a part of our company. Our policy strictly states that no employee can express prejudice in the workplace regarding race, gender, sexual orientation—”

“I-I understand!” Sawamura interrupted with a stiff bow. His face burned with humiliation knowing that he stormed in here, expecting things to be changed and to get the position he dreamed of when it didn’t even exist in the first place. There was no point in trying to push it now that his job might be literally on the line if he continued to complain about being an editor for a BL mangaka. “Sorry for bothering you! I’ll be on my way to the department now!”

In between then and now, standing on the doorstep of the mangaka’s house who he was to be the editor for, Sawamura came to terms with his unfortunate dilemma. 

At first, he was in denial that this was actually happening to him, that there was an error made that could be easily fixed. When he realized that he made a mistake on his application that technically meant he applied to get the job he ended up with, he was pissed at himself for not being more specific. Then again, if he hadn’t been so vague, he probably wouldn’t have been hired—there were no positions for editors left in the shoujo department. At the very least, he had a job.

Still, that didn’t mean Eijun was happy about it. He dragged his feet to the floor where he’d find the editors for King and introduced himself with absolutely no enthusiasm, looking as dead inside as he felt as he endured greeting all of his new colleagues. No one seemed to mind his lack of excitement, since they all moved slowly, like corpses with visible bags under their eyes from overworking and stress. Sawamura wasn’t even working hard quite yet like they were, and yet he felt so exhausted already just looking at the team of editors, eyes glazed over with sleep deprivation, complexions pale from malnourishment.

Surprisingly, there were two other men in the department. One was another editor who was rather petite and had bubblegum-pink hair, and the other was the editor-in-chief himself, named Isashiki Jun. Getting dragged through the office facing all the heaps and piles of paperwork sure gave Sawamura  a bleak, depressing outlook on his future job, but this was because there was apparently no time to waste. Sawamura quickly realized that he was not getting eased into his new job whatsoever. The reason for this sorry state of the office was the time of month—they were already three days past the deadline for this month’s spreads, and despite everyone working their asses off, they still had a lot to do to get their chapters serialized for Seidou’s monthly publication.

So, for that reason, Sawamura was being thrown head-first into the lion’s den that was the home of the mangaka he would be working with. Apparently, this mangaka was notoriously known for going past her deadlines, though Isashiki didn’t specify why, and Sawamura was left to wonder about it. Perhaps she got sick often or got artist’s block a lot. Sawamura would give her the benefit of the doubt, but regardless of the reason, she was too far over the deadline and Sawamura was the one being sent to her house to get the final manuscript of the chapter from her.

“No matter what, you have to return with the manuscript, you got that!?” Isashiki had hollered at him, and Sawamura was too frightened to try and get out of it or even ask what ‘no matter what’ entailed. It was his first day on the job, dammit, he didn’t know how to approach these mangakas or what sort of etiquette was expected of him! Should he be formal? Semi-formal? Causal? Extremely formal? Sawamura had no clue, but he imagined getting to meet one of his favorite mangaka and decided he would have to talk to them with the utmost respect. Creating manga was an art, after all, and Sawamura was not about to be rude to the geniuses who thought up these stories.

On his commute to the house address given to him, Sawamura lamented over this sorry turn of events that was his first day at his so-called dream job. He sulked the entire way, his head hung low with defeat. It was the middle of the afternoon and he was going to some fujoshi’s house to grab the final manuscript of the latest chapter of… what was it called? Bloom of Youth? Sawamura barely caught the title of the series before he was shoved out the office with the frantic order to get the manuscript before it was “too late.” Sawamura didn’t know what that ominous message meant, but he understood the severity of getting this manuscript “at all costs.”

The final stage of grief was acceptance, which was where Sawamura was now. He stared at the mangaka’s door and held his chin high. Unfortunately, this was the situation he found himself in—Sawamura Eijun was now an editor of a BL author, and he couldn’t change that, at least not now. With that in mind, he might as well put his all into it! He had to take advantage of this situation and affirm himself as an amazing editor, no matter the genre of manga he was working on. He was going to blow the minds of everyone in the department and ensure that he would get noticed for his top-notch editing skills, there was no doubt! Nothing could stop him from being the best editor in all of Seidou Publishing, even if that was BL, and maybe he could be transferred to shoujo in the future if he impressed them that much! He’d show them the power of the one and only Sawamura Eijun! Wahaha—

“Can you quiet down!?” snapped a voice from his left, and Sawamura whipped his head to the side, spotting an elderly woman glaring at him from her front porch. She shook her head and muttered something under her breath before hobbling inside her home. Oh—Sawamura flushed as he realized he was yelling his thoughts out loud. Of course one of this mangaka’s neighbors was out and about while he was proclaiming his new life’s purpose to the sky. That was just Sawamura’s luck.

He then sheepishly rang the doorbell, but just as Isashiki warned him, the mangaka didn’t answer. Sawamura looked down at the spare key in his hand and hesitated. Isashiki encouraged him to just barge in “like I always do!” to quote his editor-in-chief, but Sawamura wondered if that was appropriate for a first encounter. Shouldn’t he be more polite and wait for her to come to the door? Sawamura chewed on his bottom lip as he stood and waited patiently, but there were absolutely no signs from inside the home that indicated that anyone was even there.

“Hello, um—” Sawamura hesitated as he looked down at the key. It had a little tag attached to it with the mangaka’s name. “Miss, uh… Miyuki-sensei? It’s Seidou Publishing! I’m here for your manuscript!”

Sawamura was met with no answer or acknowledgement of his existence whatsoever. He frowned and stared at the key in his hand, then insistently knocked a few more times. After an uncomfortably long period of total silence, Sawamura announced that he was coming in and unlocked the door with a pounding heart.

“Miyuki-sensei…?” Sawamura called out meekly once he peeked inside the dark home. No lights were on, but there was a pair of shoes in the front. They looked rather masculine, and Sawamura wondered if Miyuki had a boyfriend or husband that lived here as well. Oddly enough, he didn’t spot any woman’s shoes. 

Sawamura was momentarily terrified that he was at the wrong house, but then he reminded himself that the key wouldn’t have worked if it was a different house anyhow, so he gulped down his fears and stepped inside. After he removed his shoes and closed the door behind him, he called out, “Pardon my intrusion!”

Sawamura stepped into the house and looked around wearily. The whole house was dark, but he noticed a faint light being cast into the hallway from one of the rooms straight ahead. Sawamura became extremely nervous as he stared at that subtle light, nausea suddenly starting to make him feel dizzy. What if something had happened to this woman? What if she had overworked herself so hard that she keeled over and died and Sawamura was the one to discover the body!? Sawamura’s mind raced with all the morbid possibilities of what he would find in the room down the hall.

As he passed the kitchen, he looked inside nervously and was horrified at the sight. There were dirty dishes all piled up along with emptied cup noodles and used chopsticks strewn about. The blinds were closed and the curtains were drawn shut, and there were tons of unwashed coffee mugs stacked around on the table and countertops.

What the hell!? Sawamura was relieved not to see any flies buzzing around the dishes, otherwise he would have assumed someone had actually died weeks ago and the house had been abandoned ever since. His hands trembled with fear and he tiptoed farther down the hall.

At last, he was by the open door. The next step would allow him to see inside the mysterious room, and he held his breath, trying to detect any sort of sound that would indicate a living person. He thought he heard breathing, but he couldn’t tell exactly what that sound was over the insistent pounding of his own heart. At least it didn’t smell awful—surely a rotting corpse would have a stench unlike any other—and it truly did feel like there was a presence inside the room. There was a strange tingly sensation in the air that made Sawamura feel positive that someone was there.

Well, it was now or nothing. Sawamura lifted his chin high and stepped into the open doorway, finally getting to see what was inside. Still too frightened, Sawamura opted instead to keep his eyes squeezed shut as he bowed his head.

“Sawamura Eijun at your service, ma’am!” Sawamura yelled into the room. He heard a startled shuffle, but he kept on going despite his wavering voice. “I am your new editor at Seidou Publishing! I-It is really quite the honor to meet you, O Wise Artist, a-and I anticipate becoming acquainted with your v-various publications! Now, I need the final manuscript of Chapter twenty-two of Bloom of Youth, please, thank you very much!!”

Sawamura waited, keeping himself half-lowered in a stiff bow, refusing to look up until he heard a response. After a few seconds, Sawamura heard a groan and a low muttering voice saying, “Jeez, you interrupted my nap…”

Wha—!? Sawamura’s eyes widened. That was absolutely not a woman’s voice!! He straightened up immediately, feeling his blood run cold as he realized that he probably, absolutely, definitely just broke into the wrong house! His lips parted with an apology and he got ready to make a run for it, but instead he was frozen in place, eyes locked on the scene before him.

The room was completely dark, with the only light coming from between the blinds and the powerful lamp shining down on an inclined table. The bright, white light of the lamp cast a faint outline on the rest of the objects in the room. That was how Sawamura was able to see that it was cluttered with blankets, books and pens of all sorts, with papers strewn about in every possible corner of the room. Sawamura spotted some weights stacked by the desk, though partially obscured by a few articles of clothing. The walls were lined with shelves of manga all neatly organized, though Sawamura spotted some sticky notes poking out from the pages of most of the volumes. There was no doubt that the man in front of him was a mangaka, and so Sawamura relaxed slightly, no longer feeling the urge to bolt and search for the mangaka he had been assigned to.

In the center of this entire mess, like the star in a solar system of dirty clothes and art supplies, was the mangaka himself—the man who must be known as Miyuki Kazuya. He had his back to Sawamura from where he sat hunched over the table, and he itched at his messy brown hair after flinging aside a sleeping mask from his eyes. He reached out and slid a pair of glasses over his nose gradually, though otherwise made no move to turn around and face Sawamura.

“Seidou Publishing, huh…?” Miyuki groggily said, his head slouching to one side as he ran his fingers through his bangs and pushed them back. “Ah… the deadline’s today, isn’t it?”

Sawamura didn’t know what to say at the sorry sight before him. From the doorway, he could make out vague shapes on the pages in front of him. They looked like mostly male characters, but it wasn’t until he took a step forward and nearly crushed a manga volume beneath his foot that he paused and looked down to confirm his remaining doubts. Sure enough, the manga book on the ground had the name ‘Miyuki Kazuya’ as the author, and on the front cover were two beautiful boys with their fingers interlocked.

Yup—Sawamura had totally assumed that Miyuki was a woman. He grimaced and looked up at the hunched-over back of the man, wondering how on earth he was supposed to deal with this guy instead of the sweet, possibly sickly young woman he expected to talk with.

“Uh, the deadline was actually three days ago,” Sawamura informed dryly. “I’ve been told not to return to the office without your manuscript.”

“Jun-san’s at it again, huh…” Miyuki muttered in response. He sighed and waved his hand in the air dismissively. “Sorry. Use any excuse you can think of. Say you lost the manuscript on the way here due to sudden winds, or that someone mugged you and stole them. Ohhh, maybe you can say you wiped your ass with them and leave the company, that’d be a riot!” He let out a childish laugh and Sawamura gaped, astonished by what he was just hearing. Was Miyuki being serious right now!? He wasn’t going to give Sawamura the manuscript even though it was overdue by now?

“Y-You can’t even give me half of it?” Sawamura blanched. “A third?”

“No can do,” Miyuki answered curtly, slouching further over his cluttered desk. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m on the brink of death right now.”

“Wait, now hold it!” Sawamura snapped, now storming inside the room so that he was standing right behind the mangaka, feet planted in the sparse spaces between abandoned hoodies and blankets. “Miyuki-sensei, your deadline has already passed! There’s no excuses left now, and I have to do my job, too! No matter what, I will get that manuscript from you tonight, even if I have to help you finish myself!”

Miyuki scoffed, unmoved by Sawamura’s impassioned declaration. “Yeah, right. I do everything on my own, no assistants. I can handle it all myself. I don’t need your help.” 

Sawamura had ignored him and was already sitting down cross-legged on the floor behind Miyuki. He found a low table buried under a blanket and a pair of jeans, and so he shoved them all aside to clear his workspace. Sawamura then reached out and snatched a stack of papers he assumed was a part of the manuscript. Miyuki sighed deeply as Sawamura began flipping through it. His irritation must have increased, for he shifted and started to say, “I told you—”

“This has way too much dialogue,” Sawamura firmly stated, then pointed at the top of the page in his hand. “Right here is the moment where they wake up in bed together after their first time, right? They’re not going to talk this much right away! Everyone knows that they spend the first part of the morning slowly waking up and admiring each other! You need to stretch it out for at least another page! Argh—sensei, paste on the tones and I’ll do typesetting for the pages that don’t need revisions. Chop chop!”

Sawamura decisively turned around with the pages thrust out towards Miyuki, but he flinched upon finally locking eyes with the man that had been basically ignoring him the entire time. For the first time, he saw Miyuki’s face, and he tensed up with surprise as his heart skipped a beat.

Miyuki was… actually pretty good looking. Well, that was if Sawamura pretended the eyebags weren’t there and that he had less stubble along his jawline. Still, his eyebrows were shapely and arched, his sharp eyes gleaming a honey-brown behind the lenses of his glasses, his lips full and pink. Miyuki also studied Sawamura’s face for a moment, completely silent, which caused Sawamura to redden a bit from all the staring.

“What? You heard me,” Sawamura insisted, waving the stack of papers in front of Miyuki again. He watched as Miyuki blinked a few times, as if snapping out of a daze. Sawamura chided, “We don’t have much time left in the day, you know! We need to work!”

Miyuki reached up and slowly took the papers from Sawamura’s grasp. He adjusted his glasses and fixed Sawamura with a curious expression. “What was your name again?”

Sawamura flashed him a bright smile. “Sawamura Eijun! Don’t forget it this time, Miyuki Kazuya!” He focused his attention to the manuscript with a determined nod. “Now… time for typesetting! Oshi oshi oshi!”

Miyuki turned around with a sigh as he muttered to himself, “Why couldn’t I have gotten a more peaceful editor…”

***

Isashiki’s jaw dropped with disbelief when Sawamura presented the manuscript to him that night, head bowed, the papers bunched together in his extended arms. Isashiki snatched the stack from him and flipped through the pages at least a dozen times, eyes practically bulging out of his head. Sawamura watched on, tired but proud of himself as the entire department of BL editors all crowded behind Isashiki to catch a glimpse of the finished manuscript. It was like they had never seen something like this before, and they kept remarking that they were stunned that Sawamura was able to get this manuscript only three days late from Miyuki, of all people. Apparently they had prepared to be at least a week behind schedule—a whole week! The thought made Sawamura’s head spin.

Sawamura took a small break while Isashiki called up the printers to inform them that they actually had the finished manuscript already. Sawamura was sitting on a bench in front of the vending machines with milk tea in his hand when his new pink-haired coworker appeared to also get something to drink. After learning his name was Haruichi, they sat together on the bench and sipped on their beverages.

“So… is it true that Miyuki-sensei is always like this?” Sawamura asked, glancing curiously at Haruichi with furrowed brows. “Everyone was shocked to see the finished manuscript today, but it’s three days overdue! How come he hasn’t been fired yet?”

“Ah, Miyuki-sensei…” Haruichi tilted his head back as he thought about how to best explain the circumstances to their new editor. “He’s one of the bestsellers of Seidou Publishing, if not actually the most successful mangaka in the company. The only reason we all go through this for his sake is because of what he creates. It’s amazing—the emotions his stories evoke, the artwork, its beautiful balance of narrative and serene, wordless panels… Miyuki-sensei is really a prodigy.”

Sawamura’s eyes were wide with shock. He wouldn’t have guessed that from visiting the mangaka’s house today; the whole place was practically in ruins. Sawamura had probably heard Miyuki’s name before, but he likely brushed off that knowledge in favor of focusing on the shoujo mangakas. He made a mental note to read some of Miyuki’s manga even if it was all BL. 

“Despite his talent,” Haruichi continued with a tight-lipped smile, “he’s notorious for chasing off everyone around him. He insists he doesn’t need assistants because he can do it all himself, and while I do think there’s some truth to that, he overworks himself to death all on his own probably in order to produce the quality of manga that he does. I’m sure Miyuki-sensei would really appreciate some assistants, but anytime we try to hire someone to help him, they end up leaving. They complain that Miyuki-sensei is rude and unlikeable.” 

Haruichi paused to sip at his drink— black coffee!? Sawamura scrunched his nose and wondered how someone with colorful hair could enjoy such a bitter drink—then pursed his lips once he swallowed. He added, “That’s also the reason why we almost always have an empty spot in the department. Miyuki-sensei’s editors always quit. They’re too frustrated to deal with him.”

Sawamura wilted slightly. Miyuki had been pretty dismissive of him during their first meeting, and he was quite snarky the whole time they worked together, but Sawamura didn’t think he was insufferable. Yet. Dryly, he remarked, “He’s that bad, huh…”

“Well… we had an editor for Miyuki-sensei for a long time,” Haruichi explained with a small frown. “He was amazing—his name is Narumiya. He was the only one who had the guts to kick down Miyuki-sensei’s door and chew him out when he went over a deadline. But eventually Narumiya-san had enough of Miyuki-sensei’s ways and transferred to Inashiro Publishing. Ever since, we haven’t found a good enough replacement… ah!” Haruichi flinched a bit as he suddenly cut himself off, his face reddening with embarrassment. He quickly turned to face Sawamura more directly. “I-I’m so sorry for rambling like this at you, Sawamura-kun! We only just met, and I’m telling you all about King’s history. I’m probably putting all this pressure on you, on your first day nonetheless…”

“No, it’s okay,” Sawamura said as he shook his head to dismiss Haruichi’s concerns. He gave his coworker a friendly smile, his bright eyes sparkling despite the way they were rimmed with pink from how hard he worked with Miyuki throughout the evening. “I think you just explained to me perfectly why you need my help so badly.” Sawamura perked up and suddenly tilted his milk tea back, chugging it in a few dramatic gulps before he slammed the empty bottle down. “Alright, that settles it! I’ll go to Miyuki-sensei’s house tomorrow and make sure he’s practicing basic hygiene and eating proper meals!”

Haruichi’s jaw dropped. “Sawamura-kun, you really don’t have to go that far!”

“Why not?” Sawamura challenged with a wide smile. He stood and proudly tossed the empty milk tea bottle into the trash. “An editor’s job is to ensure that the manga they’re editing stays up to company standards! That means making sure our mangaka are creating their best work, which can only be accomplished with enough sleep, proper meals and healthy lifestyle choices! This Sawamura Eijun will make sure that only the best manga is published under Miyuki Kazuya’s name! Wahahaha!”

Haruichi beamed upon hearing Sawamura’s passionate declaration. Perhaps the state of their department would start truly looking up from here now that they had someone new and determined amongst them at last.

***

Sawamura Eijun was quickly proving himself to be one of the most capable editors in the BL department, if not all of Seidou Publishing. He made rookie mistakes, like accidentally printing copies on the backs of papers needed by someone else, or mistakingly replying-all to an email that he should have simply read and archived. Too many times he accidentally spilled drinks or food all over the workspace, which caused him to become the target of Jun’s angry rampages. One time, he even accidentally leaked a release date before the advertising team was ready, which caused Kanemaru—head of advertisements—to storm down and tear Sawamura apart with his words.

Miyuki heard about these stories from Kuramochi, the man in charge of Seidou’s sales department and essentially Miyuki’s only friend. Well, if he could call him that—Kuramochi simply made sure to text Miyuki and drag him out to social outings every now and then, and Miyuki secretly wondered if that was only to keep Miyuki feeling somewhat connected to the company that prized him as one of their most successful mangakas.

“Kyahaha! You should have seen the way Sawamura tripped in the hallway after our meeting with King! He sent the papers sprawling all over the place! I’ve never seen someone’s legs fold over their shoulders like that!” Kuramochi told him all about Sawamura’s hilarious mishaps through the phone, causing Miyuki to smile a little to himself while he was tucked away in his home, hunched over endless pages of storyboards. He found himself laughing not out of malicious intent, but actually out of fondness after a while.

Sawamura Eijun was… a storm. On day one, he slammed down Miyuki’s door—literally—and marched right in, telling Miyuki all sorts of criticisms about his work that he hadn’t heard from anyone in years. It shocked Miyuki—only when he heard Sawamura’s scolding comments did he turn around to regard his new editor, wondering if he was hallucinating from his lack of sleep. For a second he thought he saw a flash of blond hair and blue eyes, but then he shook the image from his mind. This editor that he already forgot the name of apparently had the guts to sit himself down in Miyuki’s home and give him an honest review of his work without preamble. This was not some starry-eyed fan or some swooning fujoshi, no—this was someone who took their job seriously and would not hesitate to correct Miyuki’s mistakes.

When Sawamura left that night, Miyuki sat there in a daze, confused by the disappearance of his manuscript. He was surely going to take another three or four days at least to finish, and yet somehow, the two of them working together had burned through it all in a matter of hours. Sawamura’s energy was intoxicating and overpowering, his feedback was succinct and truthful, his determination was inspiring and impressive. Before Miyuki knew it, they were done, and Sawamura left in a frenzy to get the manuscript back to the office with a triumphant, “Oshi! Oshi! Oshi!”

The following day, Miyuki woke up to the sound of the sink running and the scent of freshly-buttered toast. He trudged out of bed, drooling and hungry, then discovered Sawamura in his kitchen, cooking up breakfast like a thoughtful housewife. He had an apron tied around his waist as he hummed happily to himself and stirred a pot on the stove. The dishes were all cleaned and put away, the counters were wiped down, and the blinds were opened. Sunlight poured inside and cast a golden shine all throughout the house, though the most radiant was Sawamura’s smile and his honey-brown eyes, which gleamed when he turned around and noticed Miyuki standing there.

It had been… a very, very long time since someone cared about Miyuki like this. Kuramochi and Jun did their fair share of yelling at Miyuki on the phone, occasionally forcing him to socialize and other times barging into his home to clean when he was at his lowest points. Mei used to do something similar, always scolding him, always yanking Miyuki onto his feet when he got too weak to continue working productively. Otherwise, Miyuki was just fine taking care of himself—his house was generally organized and he could make his own meals—it was only when he was nearing a deadline that he fell into a state of existence not much different than a college student enduring finals week.

Still, it was hard to sort through his mess at the end of the publishing period. He often had to devote a few days to cleaning and buying fresh groceries, so to wake up to find out that Sawamura already had taken care of most of that was… nice. Refreshing. Unexpected.

Miyuki was grateful, but he didn’t get his hopes up. Sawamura would get tired of him like the others and leave to do bigger, better things. In order to speed up this process, Miyuki teased Sawamura relentlessly. He nagged at him whenever he made a mistake on the manuscripts or used the wrong tones during crucial scenes. He pushed Sawamura’s buttons to get him all worked up simply because it was funny. Miyuki knew he had a nasty personality and he found joy out of driving others crazy, which was why he had no close friends besides Kuramochi—he openly thrived off of mocking others.

It was partially a defense mechanism, but it was also just the way Miyuki was. His humor was twisted, he’d admit it, and whenever Sawamura ended up yelling at him and storming out with a bright flush across his cheeks, Miyuki would laugh for a minute before the silence of his home weighed down on him. Doubts and insecurity would creep in and make him wonder if Sawamura finally had enough. He wondered when would be the day that Sawamura was going to submit his resignation and never see Miyuki again.

Instead, Sawamura showed up again and again, hollering at Miyuki to get up and cramming food down his throat. He waved edited storyboards in Miyuki’s face all marked up with changes and suggestions that Miyuki actually found useful. As he poked around Miyuki’s workspace, he would loudly review Miyuki’s published volumes one at a time, explaining what he enjoyed about the chapters and what he thought could be improved. Miyuki would sometimes dramatically lament out loud that Sawamura was hurting his feelings with all his criticisms, but Sawamura would simply snap at him and say something like, “Shut up, tanuki bastard!! You’re fine, I won’t fall for your tricks! Listen to what I’m saying! I have wise words for you, mister! Your manga is all amazing, like, super amazing! But no one’s work is perfect, so here’s how you can improve, Miyuki Kazuya!”

Miyuki got used to their routine, their back-and-forths, their productive periods and their conversations during slow moments as well. He found himself anticipating Sawamura’s presence in his home, eager to hear Sawamura’s feedback, craving that surge of inspiration he always felt when Sawamura came around to refresh his creative mind. 

It all accumulated to one day when all the thoughts and emotions in Miyuki’s head and heart settled into something achingly clear.

Sawamura had burst inside as always, his eyes wide and sparkly, his cheeks flushed with exertion. Miyuki wasn’t even looking at him to know that Sawamura had that hyper, puppy-like expression on his face. “Miyuki Kazuya!!! Listen to me this instant!”

Miyuki let out a noncommittal hum as he continued to ink the hair of one of his characters. “I’m listening.”

“No, you need to put that pen down before you mess up the page!” Sawamura insisted. Miyuki heard the thump of his bag as he set it down on the ground followed by the rustle of his jacket. “I promise you will thank me later!”

Miyuki almost continued to ignore him, but with a reluctant sigh, he finally set down his pen and turned around in his spot. With an arch of his brow, Miyuki regarded Sawamura expectantly. “Well? What is it?”

Sawamura smiled at Miyuki—truly, genuinely smiled, the kind that made his cheeks bunch up and dimple, the kind that had his eyes crinkle at the corners—as he balled up his hands in little fists. “ Bloom of Youth has been greenlit for an anime adaptation!!”

Miyuki’s eyes widened, but it wasn’t because of the news. It was great, and Miyuki was excited, but this wasn’t the first time his work had been turned into an anime. The announcement didn’t warrant much of a reaction from Miyuki, truthfully speaking. 

He stared at Sawamura instead, stunned at the pure joy radiating from his features, soaking in the sight of his precious editor that was practically wagging his tail with glee all for Miyuki’s sake. He found himself smiling back at Sawamura, the action impossible to suppress when Sawamura began laughing and rambling about how excited he was for Miyuki, how he couldn’t wait for his fanbase to grow, how he was eager to find out who would be voicing the characters he had become so familiar with over the months they had been working together.

That was when Miyuki felt it—his heart squeezed, his skin warmed, his fingers twitched. There was that simultaneous swooping and sinking sensation in his chest, the only warning Miyuki had before his heart began beating out of control.

Right at that moment was when Miyuki realized he was falling in love with Sawamura Eijun.

***

“No, you don’t understand,” Sawamura stressed at Haruichi, looking frantically over his shoulder at the total stranger, for lack of a better term, currently surrounded by the anime producers he had been working closely with for the last few months. Sawamura desperately repeated, “He never looks like that! Never!”

“Surely he can’t be that different,” Haruichi hummed with a doubtful tone of voice. He gestured with a nod towards the mangaka he worked the most closely with, Furuya Satoru, who was also in attendance at this banquet. “Sator—erm, Furuya-sensei looks a bit cleaner and more formal when he’s wearing a suit, but if you look closely, he’s just as tired and bored as always. See, look at him.” Sawamura followed his line of sight and watched as Furuya nearly dozed off while listening to a conversation between Isashiki and Yuki, the editor-in-chief for the shounen department. “He’s still the same old Furuya-sensei. So how is Miyuki-sensei any different than usual, Eijun-kun?”

“J-Just, you—I don’t—” Sawamura fumbled over his words, eyes darting between Haruichi and the drop dead gorgeous man that was supposedly Miyuki Kazuya, donned in a perfectly fitted suit, not a hair out of place. Lowering his voice, Sawamura fervently whispered, “You don’t see him at home like I do! He often needs to shave, he has eyebags from overworking himself, and he’s always slouching over his desk! He only wears sweatpants, t-shirts and hoodies. Sometimes he even wears a facemask and a hat inside! He usually looks a minute away from death, and even on his good days he’s not usually facing me so I…” Sawamura trailed off slightly, his cheeks blushing a rosy shade as he softly added, “I never really got to see him like this…”

Sawamura looked over at Miyuki again. Tonight was an important night and it was all about Miyuki. It had been a few months since the announcement of Bloom of Youth’s anime adaptation, and now that the first episode was fully animated, Seidou Publishing was holding a banquet for a viewing party in Miyuki’s honor. He had approached Sawamura as soon as he walked in, but Sawamura had only awkwardly said hello and wondered why such an attractive, vaguely-familiar man was standing in front of him. 

It wasn’t until Miyuki’s voice came from those perfect lips that Sawamura realized exactly who was standing before him. Miyuki couldn’t even finish his sentence before Sawamura ran away, taking refuge behind Haruichi and leaving Miyuki to talk to someone else for the time being. Jeez, Sawamura practically had a heart attack from that interaction alone!

Now a safe distance away from the stunningly metamorphosed Miyuki Kazuya, Sawamura got a proper look at the man with a tentative gulp.

Miyuki was… unfairly attractive all of a sudden. Sawamura felt a nervous flutter in his stomach that got worse the longer he looked at Miyuki. His skin felt hot as he observed Miyuki’s body even from this distance. That body looked far too perfect under those formal layers, which somehow showed off the shape of his legs and arms without being awfully tight. His legs were long and muscular, his thighs thick, and his ass—well, Sawamura flushed when he realized he was staring at it for a little too long. Let’s just say the pants might actually be a little too snug in the back… and perhaps even the front, too. Sawamura was unable to avoid letting his eyes linger just below Miyuki’s belt buckle, catching the way his trousers subtly strained over the swell between his thighs.

Sawamura flushed and quickly brought his eyes up, feeling vulgar for staring so intently at Miyuki’s crotch like that. He couldn’t help it—it was pretty damn hard to miss, after all! Miyuki was like a model from all angles, every shift of his stance showing off his tapered waist and broad, muscular shoulders. Those arms were more brawny than Sawamura remembered, and his neck was thick and sturdy. His jawline was sharply defined, not to mention cleanly shaven. His hair licked at the nape of his neck perfectly, the longer strands tucked behind his ear by the frame of his glasses, showing off the neatly-cut sideburns that bordered his ears.

When Miyuki looked over at Sawamura, his caramel-brown eyes gleaming as he lifted a perfectly shaped brow, Sawamura was startled by the jolt of heat that suddenly seized his heart. He flinched in place and his face grew hotter, which caused Haruichi’s formerly calculating frown to morph into a knowing, playful smile. 

(Over the months of getting to know each other, Haruichi had grown close to Sawamura enough to where they were on a first-name basis. Because of their closeness and Haruichi’s natural ability to read people, he easily pieced together what’s been going on between Sawamura and his mangaka for quite some time now. Sawamura was still unaware of his own feelings, so Haruichi wanted to speed up the process a little. Tonight would be the perfect opportunity for just that.)

“I see,” Haruichi responded after a heavy pause. His smile widened slightly as he patted Sawamura’s back lightly. “Well, he just got here and you barely even said hello. That look he’s giving you is a call for help, you know.”

“What? How?” Sawamura turned a bewildered face towards his friend and coworker. “He’s probably just making fun of me or something! Why else would he be looking at me like that?”

“Authors like Furuya-sensei and Miyuki-sensei are not very sociable and they don’t enjoy company events that much,” Haruichi explained thoughtfully. “When Furuya-sensei’s shounen-ai series The Everyday Life of Kuma-kun was turned into a drama CD, Seidou put on a banquet similar to this to celebrate his achievement. Even though the event was in his honor, he needed me at his side almost the whole time! Like you said, it’s our job as editors to take care of our authors, isn’t it, Eijun-kun?”

“A-Ah, uh…” Sawamura began to regret his own words as he cast a shy glance in Miyuki’s direction. Miyuki looked absolutely flawless, flashing a row of white teeth to the director of the anime who was currently shaking his hand. He was practically shining, drawing all the attention in the room to himself, radiating charisma and charm unlike anyone Sawamura had ever seen. Sawamura gulped as his heart seemed to lodge itself in his chest—he had to stand next to that all night long? 

“Go on and support Miyuki-sensei,” Haruichi encouraged, powerfully pushing Sawamura’s forward at the same time. He stumbled and had no choice but to walk towards Miyuki. He cast one last desperate look over his shoulder in Haruichi’s direction, but rather than inviting Sawamura to come back and hide, Haruichi only smiled at him and held a thumbs up. He then turned away, likely to search for Furuya, and Sawamura inwardly groaned as he resigned to his fate. At last, he faced Miyuki, who was now just a few steps away.

“Hyaha! Well, speak of the devil and he’ll appear!” Kuramochi called out with a wide grin as Sawamura joined Miyuki’s side. Sawamura gulped and tried not to look directly at Miyuki, somehow feeling shy upon realizing that Miyuki was actually taller than he remembered. Usually they were sitting down, or Miyuki was slouched over anyways; he rarely got to stand by Miyuki’s side like this when they were both standing at full height. He even smelled fancier than usual, for he was obviously wearing some sort of cologne that reminded Sawamura of a cedarwood forest. For some reason, the subtle scent that complimented Miyuki’s masucline, charismatic aura made Sawamura feel a little hotter under the collar.

Unknowing of Sawamura’s predicament (or perhaps just uncaring of it), Kuramochi continued with a snicker. “Miyuki, why don’t you introduce your little ‘prodigy’ to Nabe-san here?”

Sawamura’s eyes widened as he briefly held his breath. Prodigy? Did Kuramochi just suggest that Miyuki was talking about Sawamura and praising him when he wasn’t even there? Sawamura stiffened and went cat-eyed as soon as he was face-to-face with the man apparently named Nabe. He extended his hand and yelled, “I-It’s an honor to meet you, sir!! My name is Sawamura Eijun, and I am an editor at Seidou Publishing!”

“Ah, so you’re Miyuki-sensei’s infamous new editor,” Nabe greeted with a smile, then took Sawamura’s hand and shook it politely. “My name is Watanabe Hisashi, and I’m the director of the Bloom Of Youth anime. Miyuki-sensei credited you for the incredible new direction that the series has taken over the last few publications.”

“N-New direction?” Sawamura repeated quietly, for he was stunned at what he was hearing. Nabe released his hand and nodded with a friendly smile.

“Yes, fans of Miyuki-sensei’s work noticed a subtle improvement in his manga as of late,” Nabe explained. “The narration is more tender, the arrangement of panels makes readers hold their breath a little more, the dialogue is more strategically placed… all the elements of his work seem to have gotten better than ever. Bloom Of Youth was already a great series, but the newest chapters are what inspired me to propose the animation project to our studio. Miyuki-sensei was just explaining how all credit for these changes goes to you—his new, prodigal editor. Isn’t that right, Miyuki-sensei?”

Every word that Nabe spoke seemed unreal. Sawamura gaped a bit as he turned to look up at Miyuki, his eyes round, his heart fluttering rapidly in his chest. Is it true? He wanted to ask, his breath totally caught in his throat. 

But… wait, hold on a moment, Sawamura thought with a troubled frown. That doesn’t sound right at all. Sawamura looked back to Nabe, his brows tensed, his lips pursed tightly.

“Thank you, Watanabe-san,” Sawamura firmly said as he bowed his head briefly, “but that’s simply not true.” He straightened up, his eyes gleaming a brilliant gold with challenge. Though Sawamura wasn’t paying attention, Miyuki was staring at him, lips parted with shock. Kuramochi had a similarly stunned expression on his face as Sawamura passionately continued. “Miyuki-sensei has created some of the best manga in the BL genre and his sales records and dedicated fanbase can prove that. All of the changes you described were entirely thanks to Miyuki-sensei’s creative skills, and though I may have played a part by suggesting some changes, it’s ultimately his choice to listen to me or not. So please, do not downplay Miyuki-sensei’s talent again!” Sawamura bowed again for extra emphasis, his heart now slamming his chest wildly.

The silence that followed made Sawamura nervous that he had crossed a line of some sort, but when he looked up, he saw the expressions of the people standing around him. There was the way Kuramochi grinned at him and the way Nabe’s surprise morphed into appreciation, but most notable of all was Miyuki’s face. His eyes were wide and shining, his lips were parted with wonder and his cheeks were flushed pink, like he couldn’t believe what he just heard spoken from his editor’s lips.

“I can see why you’re so fond of your editor,” Nabe said to Miyuki with a twinkle in his eye. “He truly is one of a kind.”

Only after Nabe took his leave and Kuramochi got distracted with someone else did Sawamura have to deal with the aftermath of his bold words alone with Miyuki himself. The air between them was heavy with unspoken feelings, and Sawamura felt his cheeks tinge pink long before Miyuki even said anything.

Of course, Miyuki’s natural reaction was to smirk at Sawamura, lean down, and speak teasingly against the shell of his burning-red ear with that infuriatingly smooth voice of his. “So you really think that highly of me, Sawamura?~”

Sawamura practically shrieked as he put immediate distance between them, his heart just about ready to leap from his chest. His face was a comical shade of red as he hollered, “Y-You heard me, Miyuki Kazuya, and I’m not gonna say any of that again! Don’t let it get to your head!!”

Their banter followed by Miyuki’s snickering caused a scene hard for the rest of the attendees of the banquet to ignore. Soft ripples of laughter filled the room accompanied by thoughtful murmurs.

“They seem awfully close, don’t they?”

“What a cute dynamic between an editor and his mangaka…!”

“I wonder if this is always how their relationship is?”

***

Even when the banquet was over and Miyuki looked like his usual self, Sawamura couldn’t stop staring at him. At the end of his work cycle, he still looked like a disaster as always. That didn’t change, but during all the other times, Sawamura found himself noticing the subtle, handsome features of the mangaka. More often now Sawamura caught sight of Miyuki’s grin, the teasing glint of his eyes, the suggestive way he raised an eyebrow occasionally for seemingly no reason. He caught himself admiring Miyuki’s profile, the muscular contours of his back under his thinner t-shirts, the way his forearms flexed when he stretched in between bursts of drawing.

He didn’t realize how often he was openly staring at Miyuki until the man in question called him out right in the moment. Sawamura flinched when he heard his own name spoken from Miyuki’s lips, and suddenly those enchanting eyes were staring right back at him. Now that he had been asked directly about his staring, Sawamura’s face reddened quickly. He stumbled over his words, unsure how to explain why he was looking so intently at Miyuki when he truly had no good excuse.

“U-Uh, I was just thinking… about this!” Sawamura grabbed the nearest sketch page that he finished making comments on and lifted it up. There was really no reason to talk about this particular panel, but Sawamura desperately needed an explanation for why he had been spacing out at Miyuki all day. This wasn’t the first day that he was guilty of this following the banquet, either. He pointed at the top of the page as he explained, “This position of the uke here! It’s, uh… it’s not wrong, per say, but it could be a little more impactful, don’t you think, Miyuki-sensei? It’s supposed to be a really provocative moment!”

Miyuki fixed him with a lingering stare, his eyebrow slowly lifting curiously. “Ehh… you might have a point.” Miyuki then tapped his chin as he shifted his position, glancing aside while he thought over Sawamura’s suggestion. “I’m not sure how else to draw that position, though. It’s hard to envision unless I have someone right in front of me who would work for… oh, wait a minute.” Miyuki looked at him from the corner of his eye, his lips curled into a clever smirk. “Well, aren’t I lucky to have the perfect model right in front of me.”

Sawamura stiffened as his heart skipped a beat. Okay, that was not the outcome he expected whatsoever from his distraction. He gulped as he clutched the paper a little tighter in his grasp. “You want me to position myself… like that?” He glanced at the panel nervously, feeling his pulse start to flutter faster, his skin tingling with warmth. The uke was on his back against the bed, invitingly spreading his legs open for the seme to come closer and… well. Sawamura knew what came next and his face reddened. Was Miyuki asking him to spread his legs wide open in the same fashion?

“If you don’t mind,” Miyuki answered nonchalantly. He turned away from Sawamura for a moment, as if he was truly disinterested in the prospect. Sawamura hesitated as he thought about it, debating just how embarrassing it would actually be. Well, he would remain fully clothed… so it couldn’t be too bad, right? The silence was interrupted by Miyuki’s slyly spoken words. “Unless you’re too shy to do it for me.”

Sawamura bristled as he gaped at Miyuki, immediately getting defensive after hearing that teasing tone of voice. He saw that shit-eating grin on Miyuki’s face, though the glare of his glasses lenses blocked out the undoubtedly snarky gleam in his eyes. Was he egging Sawamura on? Was this a challenge!? Sawamura stammered over his words for a moment before he jumped up onto his feet decisively. Without a second thought, Sawamura definitely took the bait. “Don’t underestimate me, Miyuki Kazuya!! I’ll do whatever it takes as your editor to make sure your manga is of the best quality! Now, where should I pose!?”

At first, Miyuki looked genuinely surprised, but he collected his bearings quickly before Sawamura could change his mind. “My room. Follow me.” 

He rose from his desk, now standing in front of Sawamura, causing him to gulp and tense up—it was one of those rare moments when Sawamura was reminded of Miyuki’s impressive height. Miyuki was a few years older than Sawamura, but those years visibly made a difference; Miyuki was notably broader and taller than Sawamura, enough to make Sawamura feel a little weak in the knees for reasons he struggled to understand. He must be intimidated, that was all.

Once they were in Miyuki’s room, Sawamura felt his heart start to pound harder. His core tightened with nervousness and he gulped when he turned around, looking questioningly up at Miyuki. “S-So, you just want me to pose on the bed?”

“That’s why we came up here, after all,” Miyuki pointed out as he stood over Sawamura, his shadow cast across Sawamura’s smaller body and onto the bed behind him. Sawamura suddenly felt hyper aware of the distance between them and his proximity to the bed. For some reason, their suggestive position made his heart start to thud loudly in his ears. He licked his lips out of nervous habit and took a step away from Miyuki, which was all he needed before the backs of his knees hit the bed and he sat down on top of the mattress. Miyuki stood still, following Sawamura closely with his eyes, watching Sawamura sit down with an expression Sawamura found hard to interpret. He stared Sawamura down like a predator hunting its prey—it was like if he looked away for even a second, Sawamura would make a run for it.

Sawamura tensed as a small shiver rolled down his spine. He wouldn’t even dream of running away. Instead, he scooted back onto the bed a little farther, trying to remember how the uke had positioned himself. His heart thundered louder and harder when he grasped at the undersides of his knees and eased his legs apart, not daring to look at Miyuki directly as he did. His face began to burn with embarrassment and once he felt the stretch in his thighs, he moved his attention over to Miyuki questioningly. 

“Like this…?” Sawamura asked breathily. His cheeks were rosy and his eyes were glassy, his expression unknowingly appearing incredibly lewd. Only then did he realize Miyuki didn’t have any sort of paper or pen with him and he froze up, his eyes widening with disbelief. What the hell!? Sawamura gawked and immediately snapped his legs back together, like he was a virgin being ogled for no good reason. “Miyuki Kazuya!! How are you supposed to remember the right position if you don’t even have a way to draw!? Go get a notepad or something!”

“I use my memory,” Miyuki answered simply, his eyes locked on Sawamura as he took the last steps towards the bed that he needed to close the distance between them. Sawamura’s breath hitched when Miyuki came closer, and he watched with cat-like eyes as Miyuki pressed one knee against the mattress in front of Sawamura’s curled-up form. “Spread your legs again. I want to get a direct view from the seme’s perspective.”

“You can’t get that from farther away!?” Sawamura protested, but any further complaints died in his throat when Miyuki’s hand slid between his knees and pushed. Sawamura’s voice cracked slightly as he blurted out, “W-What are you doing?”

“Making you get back in that position, obviously,” Miyuki answered, matter-of-fact, though a sly smile spread over his lips as he pushed down a little firmer on Sawamura’s knee. The pressure had Sawamura’s thighs spreading wide apart, and he had to bite back a whimper as his head spun from the rush of heat suddenly racing through his body. The heat all shot down south alarmingly quickly, making Sawamura freeze up as he felt arousal settle down low. 

Oh no. Sawamura’s heart seemed to stop in his chest as he realized what was going on. He felt a twinge of interest between his legs and he fought the urge to cover his face with his hands. He only barely managed to suppress a whine as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing it all to go away. Not now, body, not now!!

Sawamura held his breath as Miyuki leaned a little closer and elaborated, “It’s for my reference, remember? You want to help me, don’t you, Sawamura?~”

It was probably an unintentional movement, but Miyuki’s hand slid lower, burning a hot trail through Sawamura’s jeans right against his thigh. Sawamura let out a strained sound as every brain cell he had left focused obsessively on the touch of Miyuki’s hand on his thigh. If that hand went just a little farther down, he would touch—Sawamura gulped. He managed to speak, though his voice was shaky and quiet. 

“O-Of course, sensei…” Sawamura said, clutching tightly onto the sheets beneath them like his life depended on it. His knuckles turned white and he was unable to stop his hands from shaking, too focused on the way his heart pounded in his ears and the tickle of Miyuki’s breath against his face.

Miyuki went very still at that moment, his teasing smirk fading. There was a crackle of energy that suddenly sparked between them, something that made it seem like the world completely stopped for one single, tense moment. Sawamura gazed up at him, not realizing until now that he ended up leaning back on his elbows, his neck craned back so he could fix a sultry, desperate look at Miyuki. His face was flushed, his pupils were blown wide, and his gaze was dark and seductive as he peered up at Miyuki from underneath his lashes.

Sawamura’s eyes involuntarily flickered down to Miyuki’s lips, wondering if Miyuki would lean closer. If he did… their mouths would be lined up nicely for—

His heart skipped a beat. Wait, what was he thinking? Sawamura barely had time to register the yearning in his heart before the moment ended suddenly. In one swift movement, Miyuki let go of Sawamura and stood back up. It happened a little too abruptly, leaving Sawamura dazed and flushed on the bed, legs spread open, half-hard arousal still (hopefully) hidden from sight. He parted his lips, almost ready to ask Miyuki why he stopped, but Miyuki beat him to it by speaking first.

“That was exactly what I needed,” Miyuki commented, though he skillfully kept his expression hidden from Sawamura’s view as he spoke. He turned away and already started heading towards the door. “I’ve got the right idea now, so thanks for your help!” He cheekily grinned at Sawamura before scurrying out of his room, barely suppressing his irritating laughter all the while. Sawamura really didn’t have the time he needed to get a hold of himself before he sprang to his feet, all the blood rushing back to his cheeks. He blushed scarlet from humiliation, his legs wobbly, his fingers bunched into fists. 

That perverted bastard!! Sawamura gaped for a moment in stunned silence, then shook his fists angrily and screamed, “What the hell was that, Miyuki Kazuya!?”

***

Miyuki could admit that he was being a bit mean. He was taunting Sawamura a little more than he should and toeing that line between what was acceptable teasing and what went too far, he knew that. But truly, he begged for pity from whatever higher power was judging him for his actions—he just couldn’t help himself. He absolutely couldn’t resist, not when Sawamura’s reactions were so achingly adorable every single time without fail. The way his face blossomed red all the way to his ears, sometimes bleeding down his neck, all accompanied with that sweet way his voice cracked and how his eyes got a little teary with humiliation… how was Miyuki supposed to stop his nefarious deeds when Sawamura’s response was like that?

Clearly, Sawamura was just a shy virgin who never had anyone make advances towards him and that’s why he got so worked up over Miyuki’s flirting and manhandling whenever he “needed a model” (he usually didn’t need another reference, it was just an excuse to get Sawamura into compromising positions for Miyuki’s own selfish fantasies, but they did help). Maybe Sawamura had a bit of an idolish crush on Miyuki now that he came to read and respect Miyuki’s work despite not knowing anything about the genre when he was hired… but a crush like that was nothing. It would fade with time. In the meantime, Sawamura was completely oblivious to Miyuki’s growing feelings and it should probably stay that way.

Probably. Miyuki always hesitated at that part, wondering exactly what held him back from admitting his attraction for Sawamura to his face. Well—Miyuki pursed his lips a little as he glanced at Sawamura from the corner of his eye. ‘Budding’ may be putting it lightly, and a more accurate description of his feelings was more like he was falling uncontrollably quickly and unable to stop himself. Perhaps the only thing making him cautious about Sawamura was the natural, intrinsic fear of falling in love.

Whatever the truth may be, Miyuki would try to avoid thinking about it and continue on anyways. He enjoyed constantly testing Sawamura’s limits and seeing how much he could handle Miyuki's self-indulgent teasing before he finally snapped.

Miyuki wasn’t expecting that day to be today, however.

Like usual, he had Sawamura posing on his bed under the guise of Miyuki needing a clearer reference for a particular panel of his current work in progress. It was kind of true—Miyuki did need to examine the angles again to make sure he wasn’t placing the character’s limbs in weird places—but truthfully, he was just craving a little intimacy from his crush that worsened every single day. He wanted to touch Sawamura so badly, but these little modeling sessions were all he could afford to do without being questioned. Today, he took his time, wondering how he could get a bit more contact than usual, craving the feeling of Sawamura’s body under his palms like he was addicted to it.

“No, it’s still not right… here, I need to sit where the seme would be,” Miyuki explained with a small sigh. He walked closer to the bed and nodded with his chin for Sawamura to move aside. “Make room for me.” He couldn’t suppress the little devious smirk that pulled at his lips when Sawamura’s eyes widened and gleamed just enough for Miyuki to notice. He saw the way Sawamura flinched and how he tensed up, opening his mouth only to shut it and flush that adorable rosy shade all the way to the tips of his ears. But nevertheless, he listened to Miyuki’s order and scooted away to make room for him.

Once Miyuki was sitting down on the bed, he beckoned Sawamura closer, a little tremor of heat settling low in his core when Sawamura followed his command and crawled into Miyuki’s lap. He was comically red and his hands trembled slightly when he placed them on Miyuki’s shoulders. Miyuki felt his heart throb when he realized Sawamura was refusing to make eye contact with him. 

So shy… Miyuki couldn’t resist licking his lips as he fixed Sawamura with a dark, seductive look. His hands slid up to rest against the dip of Sawamura’s waist. How adorable.

“Arch your back a little more,” Miyuki encouraged, tugging on Sawamura’s body so that he spread his thighs a tad further apart. The movement caused Sawamura to slide down, pressing his hips down against Miyuki’s a little firmer, the touch causing Miyuki’s focus to immediately center in on Sawamura’s reaction. He watched closely, curiously, hungrily as Sawamura’s lips twitched and how he seemed to hold back a whine. The sound just barely leaked past his teeth before he snapped his mouth shut, his face reddening further.

“Good, just like that…” Miyuki complimented lowly, watching as Sawamura shuddered—he’d picked up on that particular reaction to Miyuki’s praises, too—and slid his hands down to Sawamura’s hips. “Perfect. The uke had his back arched, hips low, and he was rubbing against the seme’s thigh just like this.” Miyuki shifted so that he pushed his leg more firmly between Sawmaura’s, though the response he got from Sawamura was definitely not what he had been expecting.

“Wait, sto— ahh…!” Sawamura tried to catch Miyuki’s attention before he moved, but it was too late. He hadn’t spoken fast enough, and now Miyuki was frozen underneath him, eyes wide as he looked up at Sawamura’s face disbelievingly.

That was unmistakably a moan—a moan that broke from Sawamura’s lips… that vocalized right when Miyuki rubbed his leg between Sawamura’s thighs. Right when he nudged the bulge between his legs. Right when he put friction right against Sawamura’s hard cock.

Sawamura was turned on and hard.

Frozen and mortified atop Miyuki’s lap, Sawamura was quivering now, his eyes bleary with humiliated tears. He let go of Miyuki’s shoulders like he had been burned and turned his face away, a pathetic sniffle accompanying his rushed excuse of, “I-I need to go to the bathroom—”

“Sawamura,” Miyuki interrupted sternly, at the same time tightening his hold on Sawamura’s body and keeping him in place. Sawamura let out a tiny whimper and lifted his arm to wipe embarrassedly at his eyes, trying to keep his watery expression out of Miyuki’s view. Still, the tears dripped down his cheeks and he hiccuped, keeping his eyes clenched shut as he started to weep. Miyuki frowned a bit—though the sight of Sawamura like this was admittedly super adorable, he hadn’t ever teased Sawamura to the point of making him truly cry. Even Miyuki felt bad about this, which was saying something.

Miyuki tilted his head to try and see Sawamura’s face more clearly. He reached out and touched Sawamura’s wrist in an attempt to tug his hand down and away from his face. “Hey… look at me.”

“Why do you d-do this to me?” Sawamura burst out instead, his voice trembling with frustration as he smacked Miyuki’s hand away. He finally blinked his eyes open and looked at Miyuki fiercely, his eyes glimmering golden and glassy with his tears. “You—you’re so cruel, Miyuki-sensei!! You have no regard for h-how I feel about you…” Sawamura lowered his head defeatedly, shoulders trembling as he sniffled and tried to wipe away more of his tears. “Why do you keep making fun of me for liking you? Dammit…!”

Miyuki’s eyes were wide as his grip tightened on Sawamura’s waist. His brain practically short-circuited as he fixed Sawamura with a disbelieving stare. “You… you like me?”

“Of course, you idiot!!” Sawamura snapped, shooting a tearful glare in Miyuki’s direction. He rambled fervently, “I m-might have only recently figured it out, but it’s true! Do you realize how hard this is for me to be t-touched by you like this when I know you’re just doing this to humiliate me? Why do I even like you!? You’re a jerk! A total jerk and I don’t know if I can forgive you this time when I—”

Miyuki didn’t let him finish. He was distracted by how happy he felt, for the surge in his chest was too powerful to ignore—Sawamura liked him. Sawamura actually liked him, and before he could think twice about his impulsive desire to lean forward and kiss Sawamura, he was already doing it. The movement only took a split second, a little push of effort on his part, and yet the result was earth-shattering. The fire that scorched down Miyuki’s body from the kiss was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, the electricity prickling along his skin making him shudder with delight.

It felt so good, so right. Miyuki’s hold tightened around Sawamura’s middle, keeping him in place as he moved their lips together, deepening their kiss with a nudge of his chin. Sawamura went totally still for a moment, but then he melted into the sensation, a trembling sigh tickling Miyuki’s face as he caved in. His hands slid back onto Miyuki’s shoulders, roaming up so that he carded his fingers through Miyuki’s hair. The scrape of Sawamura’s nails along his scalp caused Miyuki to shiver, and he parted his lips, flicking his tongue across Sawamura’s lips to ease them open.

“Mmn…” Sawamura moaned softly against his mouth, grasping tightly onto Miyuki’s hair as he accepted Miyuki’s tongue inside. Their kiss was hot and wet, causing Miyuki to lean forward more and more, barely able to withhold himself from devouring Sawamura on the spot. His hands sneaked down until he grasped Sawamura’s ass and he unashamedly kneaded the soft flesh, causing Sawamura’s breath to hitch against Miyuki’s lips.

Miyuki couldn’t help himself—before he knew it, he was flipping their bodies over so that Sawamura was on his back beneath Miyuki. Their eyes met for a brief moment, but Sawamura didn’t get a chance to say a word before Miyuki dove down and captured his lips in a fiery, energetic kiss. He tilted his head to the side, pushing his tongue in deep and licking along the roof of Sawamura’s mouth. 

The slick sensations of their tongues rubbing together caused Sawamura to tremble and arch his back off the bed as he seeked more of Miyuki’s warmth. Miyuki’s hand greedily pushed Sawamura’s shirt up, his fingers petting over that smooth expanse of skin as they roamed up his stomach all the way to his chest. Sawamura whined against his mouth and bucked his hips up, causing their bodies to rub together, creating an addictive friction between their straining, clothed erections.

Everything felt so damn good that Miyuki didn’t want to stop. He sucked Sawamura’s bottom lip between his teeth, scraping the tender flesh and delighting in the way Sawamura gasped, his neck craning back submissively in response to Miyuki’s hungry kisses. Miyuki rocked their hips together and broke their kiss at last with a short gasp, his breaths becoming more ragged the more worked up he felt. He leaned down, unthinkingly biting down on Sawamura’s pale neck and sucking harshly enough to leave a prominent bruise.

“M-Miyuki-sens— ahhh! You—this is going too far, y-you know this is cruel to mess with me like this, you have to—” Sawamura babbled out as soon as he was able to breathe, though he squirmed underneath Miyuki’s demanding touches and let out tiny whimpers and gasps speckled between his words. “Miyuki Kazuya, I said to— hahh, you need to slow down and—”

“I like you,” Miyuki answered huskily, brows tensed, a serious expression on his face as he paused and met Sawamura’s eyes. “I’ve liked you for a long time now. This was never to make fun of you, it was just my excuse to touch you.” Miyuki moved his hand up higher to rub his fingers over Sawamura’s nipple, earning a little cracked sigh from his lips as he flinched from the sensation. His hips bucked up and Miyuki gave him a small, yet cocky grin as he added, “It sure doesn’t seem like you want to slow down, Sawamura. I mean, look at yourself...”

Sawamura’s jaw dropped with disbelief from the sly jab, color bleeding down his neck so prettily, causing Miyuki’s heart to throb from the gorgeous sight. Though before he could blabber and accuse Miyuki for pointing out the aroused state of his body, he seemed to process what Miyuki admitted to him first. Completely awestruck, Sawamura breathed, “You’re not just doing this to tease me…?”

“I never was,” Miyuki clarified with a small, earnest smile that quickly turned mischievous, “though I was taking advantage of you just a little bit. Sorry~”

“Bastard…” Sawamura grumbled, brows furrowed as he looked to the side stubbornly. He was quiet for a moment, seemingly tongue-tied, but at last, he glanced up at Miyuki with a small pout on those adorably pink lips. “Now this is all your fault. Take responsibility for what you started, Miyuki Kazuya.”

Miyuki’s smirk was downright sinister as he lifted his eyebrows and exhaled, “Hoo…?” His hand snaked down to grasp the small of Sawamura’s back, which he used to tug Sawamura even closer, the action making their bodies rub together more directly than before. “You want me to take care of you, then?”

Sawamura gulped as he looked up at Miyuki, his pupils widening with lust. He looked brave for a moment, like he was going to challenge Miyuki, but then he turned shy again, his face still flushed bright red. Finally, he managed to plead for more of Miyuki’s touch.

“I’ve been waiting, so just—just take me already, sensei.”

***

It was so overwhelming, everything was—Miyuki’s hands, his tongue, his teeth—all of it was causing Sawamura’s mind to spiral and turn into a heated mess. He was still so embarrassed to be naked in front of Miyuki. He kept trying to bring his knees closer together, as if he could hide from Miyuki’s prying eyes, even though it was pointless by now when Miyuki had seen everything. Miyuki was such a fucking tease, his eyes gleaming playfully as he flicked his tongue over Sawamura’s pert nipple and drove his fingers inside just a little harder than before.

“Ahh—!!” Sawamura gasped, his body jerking, the movement driving Miyuki’s fingers deeper inside his ass. Sawamura whimpered, for the feeling was so weird and uncomfortable, in a way, but at the same time it was so… breathtaking. He wasn’t sure why, but feeling a part of Miyuki inside of him felt so lewd and intimate, more than anything he’d ever experienced. He could feel every ridge of Miyuki’s slender fingers as they thrust and rolled inside of him, every touch sending a wave of sensations up Sawamura’s spine that made him quiver.

“You’re so sexy like this, you know,” Miyuki commented, his velvety voice tickling Sawamura’s bruised collar bones as he let out a low chuckle. He curled his fingers, nudging that bundle of nerves deep inside Sawamura yet again. Every time he prodded that spot, it made Sawamura choke out a gasp, the edges of his vision flashing white from the burst of pleasure that rushed through his veins. “Your mouth falls open whenever I touch your prostate like that… your lips are so prettily shaped, you know.”

“S-Shut up already!” Sawamura protested, his face feeling hot enough to melt off at this point. He turned his head away, trying to hide his embarrassing expressions from Miyuki’s sight. “I-I’ve never done this before! You don’t have to make fun of my stupid faces!”

“They’re not stupid,” Miyuki insisted, using his free hand to grasp Sawamura’s jaw and turn his head back, making their eyes meet again. “They’re turning me on so much right now… can’t you tell?” He rocked his hips forward, rubbing his large cock against Sawamura’s leg again, making Sawamura gasp and shiver with excitement. He risked looking into Miyuki’s eyes again, a tiny whimper spilling from his lips from the heat he felt pool low in his gut. The truth was that looking into Miyuki’s eyes made him feel like he was sinking underwater, like he was totally succumbing to an emotion he didn’t even know he was capable of feeling. Those amber-brown eyes were so powerful, so intense that they stole Sawamura’s breath away and made him feel as if he had no strength left in his body.

“I-I can see that,” Sawamura answered shakily, his voice thin with lust. He totally gave himself up to Miyuki, shivering with delight, letting Miyuki finger him wide open. He was about to complain about Miyuki taking too long, but then he was distracted by Miyuki’s appearance at that moment, his eyes roaming over Miyuki’s stunning body slowly and openly. 

He was laying beside Sawamura, fingering him with gradual, thoughtful movements, seemingly totally unaware of how damn attractive he was. His body was way too fit for a mangaka’s, but then Sawamura recalled the weights in the corner of Miyuki’s work space and remembered that he often was working out whenever he wasn’t drawing. 

No wonder—his efforts clearly paid off. Everything about that body was mouth-watering, from those broad shoulders to his full pecs, chiseled abs and tapered waist… his body was proportionally flawless. His thighs and legs were stunningly sculpted, his arms were brawny and firm, and now, Sawamura was able to ogle his cock, too. It was just as big and thick as Sawamura would expect—he knew Miyuki was well-endowed, it was obvious from the way his pants seemed to get a little strained between his legs whenever he moved a particular way—but it was another treat to finally see it.

Sawamura always knew he liked men, but the insatiable desire he was feeling now was really something else. He felt hot all over, his cock flushed and bobbing slightly whenever Miyuki thrust his hand in harder. He was leaking precum onto his navel and he shivered, feeling so wound up now that he was ready to burst. Miyuki’s fingers rubbed teasingly against his sweet spot again, a smirk tugging on his lips as he watched Sawamura whine and tremble. 

Sawamura shot a warning glare at Miyuki. Dammit, if Miyuki didn’t stop messing around with his fingers, this would be over before they could even go all the way!

“Alright, alright,” Miyuki acknowledged the face Sawamura made at him with a small laugh, then pulled his fingers from Sawamura’s hole gradually. The feeling of loss had Sawamura shuddering, and for a moment he debated telling Miyuki to put them back inside. Instead, Miyuki shifted and adjusted Sawamura’s body at the same time so that he was flush against Sawamura’s back. He reached down and grasped Sawamura’s leg, hiking it up and encouraging him to tuck his ankle behind Miyuki’s thigh as he spoke hotly against Sawamura’s ear, “I wanted to take my time with you. It’s your first time, after all~”

The overwhelming amount of sensations had Sawamura feeling a little lightheaded in the best kind of way. He felt the firm contours of Miyuki’s muscular torso against his smooth back, the subtle brush of the hairs on Miyuki’s legs against his own bare thighs, the rough sensation of Miyuki’s artistic, hardened fingers along his tender skin. He let out a sigh, his body trembling and heating even more when Miyuki started to push inside, stretching Sawamura open inch by inch. His head spun—he’d never felt anything like this, but despite the way his heart hammered wildly against his chest, he refused to tell Miyuki to stop. Stopping was the last thing he wanted, holy shit.

When Miyuki bottomed out, he kept himself pushed all the way inside, letting Sawamura adjust to his girth. He trailed his tongue along Sawamura’s neck, kissing and nipping small marks in his wake, making Sawamura twitch and gasp to the sensations peppered along his skin. He tightened around Miyuki, walls squeezing him tightly, shifting and making Sawamura all too aware of the way that hot cock felt buried inside of him. His chest rose and fell with deep, trembling breaths, his cock aching a bit more as it leaked more eager precum from his slit.

“So cute,” Miyuki purred. Sawamura could feel the way his lips curved into a smirk against the back of his neck as he began to move his hips. “The sounds you’re making are so pretty, Sawamura…”

“Nnh— shut up, you’re so perverted,” Sawamura hissed out in response, closing his eyes as if it would help him hide from Miyuki’s prying, hungry gaze. He turned his head away, though his blush betrayed him, burning the tips of his ears hot and coloring the back of his neck red. Miyuki chuckled as he teased with his lips and tongue, his hand stroking Sawamura’s waist, petting him like he was being such a good, obedient pet. Sawamura shivered from that thought, somehow not upset by the potentially demeaning gesture—instead, he preened and leaned into the touch, a longing sigh spilling past his lips.

“Oh? But you love it,” Miyuki continued on, his infuriatingly sexy voice teasing the shell of Sawamura’s ear now. He continued to rock his hips and drive his cock inside slow and steady, as if he was only just getting started, taking his sweet, sweet time with Sawamura’s body. “Look at yourself, I know you love it. Don’t think I can’t see the way you blush for me, how you bite your lip, how you shift around to try and hide your hard little cock…” His hand slid down at the same time, fingers dancing dangerously closely to Sawamura’s throbbing erection, stroking the fine hairs at the base but not going any further.

“Hnn—!!” Sawamura’s eyes pricked hot with the threat of tears again, though this time not out of anger and humiliation, but rather insufferable frustration. It felt like his nerves were on fire, like the gentle pressure of Miyuki’s fingertips down by his groin would drive him absolutely insane if he didn’t just touch him properly already. Sawamura glared over his shoulder at Miyuki, vehemently snapping, “Could you quit teasing me for once and just fuck me properly?” 

Miyuki gave him one of those smug grins, one that indicated to Sawamura that he was the one who just won by getting Sawamura to beg for it, and the realization had Sawamura’s glare melting into shock and embarrassment. He turned his head away swiftly, about to stammer about taking it back or asking Miyuki to go easy on him, but he didn’t get a chance. Miyuki responded by setting a bruising pace, his grip on Sawamura’s leg tightening as he started snapping his hips forward fast and hard.

“Hahh, hahh, ahh, o-oh god—” Sawamura gasped out, his body twitching in response to Miyuki’s brutal thrusts. The constant breathtaking sensation of his cock stimulating his prostate over and over was paired by the feeling of Miyuki’s teeth sinking into his flesh, sucking harshly on the stretch of skin that connected his neck to his shoulder. His cock bobbed up and down with Miyuki’s powerful movements, though Miyuki finally indulged Sawamura by curling his fingers around his dick and giving Sawamura long, tight strokes from root to tip. He spread the slickness of his precum all around, teasing and flirtatious, his touches ranging from feather-light to firm and possessive.

“How does it feel, hm?” Miyuki asked against Sawamura’s skin, his voice raspy, his words accentuated with a throaty moan. He rotated his hips once he snapped inside deep, the head of his cock rubbing in a circular motion against Sawamura’s deepest point, causing Sawamura’s cry to crack into a stuttered gasp. “Is that good, Sawamura? You like being filled with my cock? You’re taking it like such a good boy, mmnh, fuck, you’re so sexy…”

Just when Sawamura wasn’t sure if he could take it anymore without bursting into overstimulated tears, Miyuki pulled out and away from Sawamura swiftly. The sudden sensation of loss had Sawamura’s walls fluttering and aching around nothing, but then he was pushed down onto his back and Miyuki was arched right above him, caging Sawamura with his arms. He balanced his weight onto one arm as he gripped the base of his cock, stroking himself once before thrusting all the way back inside in one fell swoop.

“Hahhh!! Miyuki—hnn!” Sawamura tossed his head back, pleasure assaulting all of his senses at once. Miyuki smirked down at him, those powerful eyes sharply glinting like a beast who had finally hunted down its prey. Somewhere between their shift of positions, Miyuki must have removed his glasses, for now Sawamura was looking up at his completely unobscured eyes. That cocky look in his eyes fit the grin on his face, one that made it clear that Miyuki knew damn well what he was doing to Sawamura. He knew just how to make the man beneath him feel good, just how to turn him on even more, just how to fuck into his tight ass and make him cum harder than he ever had in his life.

“That’s right, call my name,” Miyuki encouraged with a low chuckle, one hand snaking down to grasp the underside of Sawamura’s thigh. He pushed it back, stretching Sawamura’s leg as much as he could, positioning him so that he could swing his leg over Miyuki’s shoulder. His calf pressed against Miyuki’s upper back and Miyuki’s eyes widened briefly, like he couldn’t believe it as he breathlessly remarked, “So flexible…”

“Please, I-I need to—” Sawamura choked out, rolling his hips up, driving Miyuki deeper inside. He gasped at the feeling of this new angle, one that made Miyuki press against his prostate even more directly than before. He didn’t care about his pride anymore, not when he was so close, not when he had been dying to cum since they started. He blabbered out, “I gotta, I’m gonna cum, just a little more, p-please, Miyuki…!” His begging broke off into a high-pitched whine that had Miyuki shivering in response to the wanton sound.

“I’ve got you,” Miyuki assured lowly, his snarky smile fading in favor of a more determined expression. He snapped his hips forward hard and deep, aiming for that spot, and Sawamura’s yelps and gasps made it clear that he was hitting it perfectly. “Let yourself go, Eijun, god you’re so fucking hot, go on, cum for me sweetheart, please—”

Hearing Miyuki say his first name was enough, but when Miyuki pleaded for Sawamura to cum, that was finally enough for Sawamura to sink into the pleasure he had been chasing this entire time. He whimpered and gasped, his cock twitching as it spurted out his release in white ropes of cum across his abdomen. The feeling was comparable to floating above the clouds, briefly stealing away all of Sawamura’s thoughts, whisking him off into a state of mind that was so fuzzy and warm and perfect.

Miyuki filled him up with his release right after that, letting out a hissed curse as he gripped tightly onto Sawamura’s body and pushed his twitching cock inside as deep as he could. He pressed his forehead against Sawamura’s shoulder, his exhale shaky and hot against Sawamura’s skin. When he was finished, he relaxed with a small, satisfied hum.

The room was silent despite the sounds of the two of them trying to catch their breaths. It lasted for a few more seconds before Miyuki laughed awkwardly and asked, “Ahaha, uh… this wasn’t a one-time thing, was it?”

“I’ll kick your ass if it was,” Sawamura muttered as heat spread across his face. “Stupid Miyuki Kazuya…”

Miyuki smiled against his skin before lifting his head to show Sawamura his irritably handsome features. “So now I can call you mine?”

Sawamura’s heart jolted in his chest, and though he wanted to retort with something smart, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling, unable to ignore the rush of joy that filled his chest as soon as he heard those words.

“You better,” Sawamura answered with a laugh, his golden eyes twinkling. He met Miyuki halfway when he leaned down for a kiss, tangling his fingers in his hair yet again, and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning when he felt Miyuki start to smile against his mouth.

***

Sawamura was responding to an email in the office when he received a text. His fingers immediately halted and hovered over the keyboard as he looked down at his phone, wondering what it could be. He paused and opened the message. It was from Miyuki, and after reading it, he announced to his coworkers, “Miyuki-sensei is faxing over some character concept art for a new series!”

“Oooh! How exciting!” Haruno responded from the other side of the desk, and when Sawamura looked up, he saw her big grin and sparkling eyes as she peered over into his work space. “Miyuki-sensei always designs the cutest ukes! Can I see the concept art, Sawamura-kun?”

“Sure!” Sawamura answered cheerfully, then stood and went over to the fax machine once he heard start printing. He retrieved the concept sheet and turned around to show Haruno (and Haruichi, it seemed, who decided to join and take a look as well). They all looked down at the drawings together, excited and curious about Miyuki’s newest designs.

Sawamura paled. Haruno gasped. Haruichi suppressed a laugh.

“Wh—” Sawamura stammered, his eyes widening as he looked down at the face of the uke on the paper, one that eerily resembled…

“Is that me!?” Sawamura screeched.

“How cute!” Haruno squealed. “Look at him! He looks just like you, with the big puppy eyes and fluffy hair— kyaaa!”

“That’s definitely you, Eijun-kun,” Haruichi remarked with a sly smile.

Sawamura grasped the paper with trembling hands, causing it to crinkle in his infuriated grasp. He then threw it down onto the ground with as much force as he could muster, growling dramatically before he turned and snatched his phone off his desk. He dialed Miyuki and clutched the phone against his ear with a trembling hand.

“So,” Miyuki’s smug voice drawled from the phone’s speaker once he picked up, “What do you think? Isn’t the uke really, really adorable? I was thinking of naming him Ei-chan—”

Sawamura’s face was scalding hot as he yelled, “Miyuki Kazuya! You perverted bastard!! Explain yourself this instant!!”

For the first time since he got accidentally hired to the BL department, he considered trying to transfer to the shoujo department again. However… his heart was admittedly weak to the sound of Miyuki’s laughter that followed his outburst.

As Sawamura felt a throb of affection in his chest, he hung his head low with defeat and thought, damn that Miyuki.