Archive of Our Own ^beta

It always started with a call.

Late. Slurred. Her name flashing across his screen like a red flag he never ignored.

Ishigami Yuu was halfway through a game he started to unwind from his studies, when he sighed and picked up. “Where are you, Iino?”

She mumbled something incoherent, then louder: “Come get me.” Right after, she sent her location over LINE.

Get her. Of course he did. He always did.

She smelled like fruit soju and trouble.

Every time, she wobbled into him like she forgot they weren’t dating anymore. Clung to his jacket. Insisted on putting her hand in his pocket. Whispered "You're warm."

He let it slide.

The first time she kissed his neck, it was a drunk mistake.

The second time, it lingered.

The third time, when she bit down gently just below his ear, he flinched and muttered, “Cut it out.”

She blinked up at him, eyes glossy, lips way too close.

“W-what?” she stammered, “You act like this is something only boyfriends get…”

He raised an eyebrow. “You think this is normal?”

Her cheeks puffed up. “Yes! Totally normal.”

“For who exactly?”

“For—” she sniffed, turning her face away, “for… close friends…”

“…You would kiss and bite any of your male friends like this?”

Her silence was deafening.

Then she looked him dead in the eye.

“Yes.”

He stared at her. She stared back.
She was bluffing for the sake of her argument, but Iino had long mastered the art of looking unreadable.

No one spoke the rest of the walk home.

He didn’t say anything until they were inside her apartment.

She kicked off her shoes and stumbled toward the kitchen, mumbling about water.

He followed. Calm.

Dead calm.

Too calm.

She barely noticed him behind her until his hands found her hips—gripping just a little too tight. She gasped, spine straightening, heat blooming in her cheeks.

“Wh—Ishigami?!”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” he murmured against her neck. “Just being normal.”

Then he bit her.

Right where she had marked him two nights ago. Harder.

Her knees buckled slightly. “W-wait—!”

“I mean, if this is what close friends do…” He pressed into her back. “I’m just playing along, Iino.”

“You’re—!” she squeaked, trying to twist away, but he held her firm, nose brushing her flushed skin.

“I’ll make sure to do this with every girl who calls me late at night,” he whispered, biting lower. “All the girls who cling to me, ask me to pick them up, kiss my neck, moan into my jacket…”

“Ishigami—!”

“I mean, if it’s normal, right?” He kissed her collarbone. “Just part of the friendship package.”

“Stop it—!”

He exhaled through his nose, voice rough.
“Why? You said it yourself,” he grinned darkly, tone low enough to make her freeze. “You’d do it to any male friend.”

Her fists tightened in his jacket. “Y-you’re being mean…”

His breath brushed her ear. “Then what does that make you, huh?”

He pressed forward—just enough for her to feel the heat of him, nothing more. The air between them snapped like a live wire.
Miko gasped, a tiny sound that turned into a soft moan before she could stop it.

That was the sound that undid him.

For a second he forgot how to breathe. Then he coughed, stepped back, running a hand through his hair as if that could erase what just happened.
“Miko,” he muttered, trying to find his voice again. “Stop doing that.”

She turned slowly, eyes glassy, mouth parted—too familiar, too dangerous. He’d seen that look before; he knew exactly where it led. If he stayed another minute, she’d pull him back under.

No way.
No way.
No way.

He grabbed his bag, ready to retreat.

Then her voice—small but sharp—cut through the silence.
“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms but still trembling. “Then I’ll just make a special category for you.”

He blinked, half-turning. “What?”

Her lips twitched into a smirk that didn’t reach her eyes. “The Ishigami-bestie category. I won’t do those things to anyone else.”

He stared at her, disbelief turning into a bitter laugh. “Wow,” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You really have the nerve to admit you’re going to keep sexually harassing me.”

She flushed, sputtering, “I-it’s not like that! You like our jokes, don't you?”

“Jokes...That's not my sense of humor at all. I don’t,” he lied.

She smiled faintly, knowing full well that he did. But not like he would ever admit it.

For a moment, neither of them moved—the space between them thick with everything they didn’t dare say.

Miko swallowed hard, the bravado draining from her face as she sensed Ishigami's genuine distress.

“Ishigami…” Her voice came out small. “Do you—want an apology?”

He glanced sideways at her, eyes half-lidded. “Yeah,” he said after a beat. “I do.”

For a moment she looked ready to cry. Then she nodded, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

He exhaled through his nose, tension easing just a little. “I know you’re drunk,” he said quietly. “But what happens if you call someone else next time? Not everyone has my restraint.”

Her pout returned, gentler now. “I don’t rely on anyone else,” she murmured.

That caught him off guard. His ears reddened; he turned his face away. “Tch… you’re just messing with me, aren’t you?”

Miko hesitated. The right thing would have been honesty. But honesty would’ve hurt too much.

“Of course,” she lied, forcing a crooked smile. “You’re so fun to rile up.”

He sighed, half-annoyed, half-defeated, and reached over to pinch her cheek. “You really don’t know when to quit.”

See, she was a law student now.
She would bury her evidence until she could make a solid case. She would corner him, eventually.

So she only laughed, eyes glinting. “Then teach me more lessons next time, okay? Maybe I’ll stop being so naughty.”

The look in his eyes stopped her laughter.
It was the kind of look that said he was at his limit—one heartbeat away from either walking out the door or kissing her until neither of them could breathe.

He stepped back instead, voice rough.
“Even if I let you keep me up all night, I still wouldn’t be able to,” he said, a tired smile tugging at his mouth. “Still, I keep my word. You can rely on me.”

She blinked, caught off guard by how gentle that sounded. The teasing grin she’d worn softened into something quieter—something dangerously close to affection.

He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck as if to shake it off. “Guess that means you'll behave next round, huh?

Her eyes sparkled. “So… you’re admitting I got to you? And that you'll still pick me up? You're so reliable, Ishigami.”

“Don’t push it, Iino.”

But the corner of his mouth twitched again, betraying him.

She tilted her head, that stubborn glint returning.
“Say it back,” she demanded.

He blinked. “Say what?”

“You know.” She jabbed a finger lightly at his chest. “That you won’t do this with any other female friends.”

A slow smirk tugged at his mouth. “Would you hate that if I did?”

Her eyes widened. “W-what kind of question is that?”

“An honest one,” he said, half-laughing. “Why would it bother you?”

“Because—” she faltered, cheeks flushing, “because drunk girls are no good! They just… take advantage of you.”

He leaned closer, amused. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes!” she shot back, crossing her arms. “So minimize your losses, okay? Only I get to be the drunk friend of the serious student Ishigami.”

That made him laugh—really laugh this time, warm and unguarded. “You’re unbelievable,” he said, holding out his pinky. “Fine. Promise.”

She blinked, then hooked hers around his, smiling despite herself.

“Alright,” he said softly. “But I’d rather you be Iino and stay hydrated.”

Her ears turned pink. “Then I’ll listen to you,” she murmured, almost shy now. “And sometime… you listen to me. Join me for a bit, too.”

He shrugged, still smiling. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” she huffed.

“Maybe,” he repeated, eyes softer than before. “I’ll think about it.”

For a moment they stood there, pinkies still linked, pretending it was just another friendly gesture.
Neither of them said out loud that this—these half-truths—was how they always found their way back to each other. Or rather, how they never left.

---------------------------------------

The next day – University Library

Ishigami had already been at the library for hours, highlighter in hand, earbuds in, the picture of focus.
That focus broke when a cup appeared beside his laptop.

“Hydration and caffeine delivered,” Miko announced, looking far too pleased with herself.

He looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Oh? You’re hydrated now?”

“Mm-hmm.” She crossed her arms, chin up. “Proudly. See? I listen.”

He gave a slow, ironic clap. “Amazing. You’ve mastered the ancient art of drinking water.”

“Mock all you want,” she sniffed, sliding into the seat next to him. “Some of us are capable of self-improvement.”

He smirked but said nothing, letting the quiet fill in between them—the rustle of pages, the soft hum of the air conditioning. She pulled out her own notes, setting her stack beside his.

For a while they just studied. Then he leaned back slightly, pretending to stretch, eyes flicking toward her neck.

“You know,” he murmured, “from this angle, I can still see the mark I left.”

Her pen froze mid-stroke. “What mark?”

He smiled, all mock innocence. “The one you didn’t bother to cover up. Imagine having to explain that we’re just really good friends.”

Color bloomed across her cheeks, but she let out a tiny laugh, shoulders shaking.
“Hm. Oops.”

He stared for a second, then groaned quietly to himself. Haaa… this girl.
He rubbed his temples, fighting the smile tugging at his lips. 

When she looked over, his expression had already softened.
“Get back to work, Iino,” he muttered.

She did—grinning into her notes, the steam from her coffee curling like a secret between them.