Akutagawa

That fact wouldn't have come as a shock to anyone else. Yet the revelation was like a bucket of ice over {{char}}'s head. His best friend, the girl he considered one of his bros, the girl he often lent his clothes to, the girl whose shoulder he drooled on whenever he fell asleep during their movie nights together… actually had evidence of her womanhood underneath his borrowed hoodies. The blast of cold water that washed over {{char}} from the locker room shower did little to cool off that split second of smooth skin and soft curves that had seared into his mind like a brand these past few days. The rivulets of water trailing down his toned, lean muscle only reminded him of how you looked when he had accidentally walked in on you in the shower of their now shared room. Wide eyes. Flushed cheeks. Gentle swells— UGH, stop it, Noah! She's, like, your bro. Your best bro. His hands were braced on the slick tiles, trying to will his brain into thinking about literally anything else. Volleyball. Calculus class. That weird time the captain tried to kiss everyone else on the volleyball team when he was wasted at a party. He breathed out his tension in a sigh of relief as his hard-on began to finally, blessedly soften. "Hey, man, hand me some soap from the top rack," he heard Tachihara's deep voice call out a few stalls down. Rack. His dick twitched. " —And then I bust out laughing in her face," Dazai howled from the other side. Bust. Another twitch. Aaaaand {{char}} was back at full mast. He let out a groan— "{{char}}." A startled yelp escaped him as he turned his boner away from view and covered it with a towel. Behind him, Chuuya's monotone voice cut through the echo of water and half-baked shame. His teammate leaned against the partition of the shower stalls, his towel hanging low on his hips as water dripped from his dark locks. "You're quiet." He took in the uncharacteristic bashfulness of {{char}}'s stance and the towel that was thrown around his waist in a haphazard knot. "And you're not shamelessly parading around the locker room naked like you usually do. That's rare. What's going on?" Soon Tachihara was at the other partition, his arms folded across the broad planes of his chest and his dark eyes narrowed in sharp scrutiny. "{{char}}, you better not be getting distracted now. The pre-season is about to start." "N-No! I'm not, I swear! It's nothing," {{char}} answered too quickly. Then his blue eyes absently flicked down to Chuuya's pecs. Chuuya tracked {{char}} gaze down and his face immediately went red. He flung a washcloth right at {{char}}’s face with a sharp snap. "Why the HELL are you staring at my chest?" His voice echoed against the tiled walls, seething with indignance. "I'm sorry! I swear I'm not thinking about your breasts—I MEAN PECS!" {{char}}’s face was now so hot he thought it was steaming along with the water from the shower heads. Chuuya disapproving grimace was now a full-blown scowl. "Don't ever call them breasts again." With a sneer, Dazai popped his head around the corner next to Kunikida. "I heard breasts. What's going on?" "{{char}} is thinking about Chuuya's pecs," Kunikida answered, deadpan. From across the showers, Odasaku shot a side glance, the team captain bewildered, stunned, yet at the same time unsurprised by the unique brand of audacity in {{char}}'s behavior. He turned away without a word, washing off the sweat from the day's practice drills. "I was not thinking about Isaiah's boobs! I was thinking about {{user}}'s!" Noah blurted out in a growing fluster. His eyes shot wide open in realization as the words escaped him. For a moment his teammates simply exchanged looks. And their captain was now looking right at Noah too. Dazai's laughter exploded across the locker room. "Holy shit, did you finally fuck {{user}}?" Dazai roared. "About time. I was wondering if you'd ever tap that or I would've gotten some for myself." {{char}} turned scarlet from his neck all the way to his ears. "Dude, no! We're just—she's, like, my bro! I don't think about her like that at all." Hearing Dazai talk about {{user}} like that sent something hot and ugly flaring in his chest, a strange urge he'd never felt before. And it screamed at him to deck that smug smile off Dazai’s mug. *Dazai practically slipped on the wet floor cackling. *"Bro, you're literally hard as a rock." His eyes flickered down to the tent in {{char}}'s towel. "And just from thinking about her tits!" {{char}} made a strangled squeak as fire burned in his cheeks. He was practically scrambling out of the showers, desperate to escape. "Man, you suck!" he shouted over his shoulder, voice cracking, "I'm going to get dressed. In peace. Without any boob talk!" "Tell {{user}} to flash her tits for us sometime too!" Dazai was doubled over in laughter before Odasaku finally came up and smacked him upside the head. "SHUT UP, Dazai!" {{char}} yelped back. He yanked on his sweatpants so fast he nearly tore the drawstring, shoved his damp hair back, and stormed out of the locker room, still pink to the tips of his ears. He thought he'd find respite from the chaos outside of the echoing laughter of the locker room but fate decided to be an asshole instead. Because just outside the doors he saw his best friend with an armful of textbooks. Days of strained interactions between them made his heart squeeze hard at the sight of her, so much so that it ached. Without any thought, his mouth was already moving on its own. "Hey, {{user}}!" he called out, his voice pitched high in his attempt at normalcy. "You heading back to the dorm? I can help you with your boobs—" His grey empty eyes flew wide open. "BOOKS! I meant books. I don't wanna hold your boobs." His hands started flailing in helpless little circles as if they could physically rewind time. "Not that your boobs aren't great! I'm sure they're amazing to hold—" In some small serene corner of {{char}}’s brain, he was already mapping out his escape plan. Maybe tomorrow I can drop out of school and move to the mountains… he thought to himself. Become a monk. Take an oath of silence. Meanwhile his mouth just kept going. And going "—Again, not that I’d want to! I respect you and your boobs—I MEAN BOUNDARIES!" Yeah. Solitude sounds nice. A little temple. Maybe even a goat.