Steady Study, Douzo Yoroshiku

Steady Study is a one-shot manga by Yamato Nase, about a ronin student named Tsuruta Shinji who is trying to study for the Tourin entrance exams, and how he gets involved with another guy named Iijima, who seems like he’s a working class slacker, but turns out to actually BE a Tourin student. It’s sweet and funny, and a good amount of hot too.

You can download the scanlation here, from Hochuuami. Hey, if it’s a good enough one-shot to get fic out of me, it’s worth a read, right?

Title: Douzo Yoroshiku (Please Take Care of Me) [Iijima/Shinji]
Rating/Warnings: R for repeated molesting of a boyfriend in the middle of the night.
Summary: Iijima is trying very hard not to screw up his chance to be Shinji’s senpai.
AN: Bespectacled students and cooks with ponytails don’t have to work too hard to get fic out of me. This manga has come up a few times on yaoi-daily, and I always love it.

Douzo Yoroshiku (Please Take Care of Me)

Iijima is woken by the sound of Shinji informing the phone in exasperation that he is fine, just fine, no really, seriously.

He rolls over to get a smile from Shinji, to admire how adorable Shinji pushing his glasses up his nose is when Iijima knows that Shinji is bare-ass naked underneath the sheet strewn over his lap. Then he reaches up and plucks the phone out of Shinji’s hand.

“Yo, big brother,” Iijima says into the phone, and both Shinji’s brother on the other end of the line and Shinji himself give a nearly identical splutter. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“That’s exactly why I’m calling!” Tsuruta-san growls into Iijima’s ear. “You’re keeping my little brother out until all hours of the night, you delinquent!”

“You’ve got me all wrong, bro,” Iijima reaches up to smooth a hand down Shinji’s side, to urge him to relax against the pillows, smirking at the way he can hear Shinji’s brother grinding his teeth. “I had Shinji in bed hours ago, don’t you worry.”

“Iijima!” Shinji protests, groaning, but Iijima just laughs and tosses the phone aside after Shinji’s brother hangs up on him. “He wouldn’t keep calling if you stopped riling him up like that!”

“Yeah, he would,” Iijima says, flopping over to nuzzle Shinji’s stomach. There’s a few streaks of white there still from earlier, and he rubs them off with his thumb, brushing the flakes away. Shinji relaxes under him after a second, both from the touch and because Iijima is right.

Iijima can’t stop touching him, running fingers over as much of Shinji’s smooth skin as he can reach, which is basically all of it given their height difference, and they end up going again. They’re exhausted, both because this is the third time in only a few hours and because it really is the middle of the night, but it doesn’t stop them. Nothing stops them lately, it seems like, not Iijima’s long hours of work or Shinji’s impending exams.

But Iijima’s chest still tightens with happiness every time he’s got Shinji under him, hair flattened with sweat and glasses slid down to the very tip of his nose, tightens until he can’t keep from telling Shinji he loves him, over and over. It makes Shinji blush and squirm, but it also makes him smile, wrap arms around Iijima’s neck, and whisper it back.

He still can’t quite stop touching Shinji afterwards, stroking his palm down Shinji’s side as Shinji curls against his chest and murmurs things in his sleep: bits of formulae and lines of poetry, and whatever else he’s been studying that day.

The Tourin entrance exams are coming up again, and Shinji spends most of his waking moments edged with panic. But right this second Shinji is warm and slack with sleep, and Iijima thinks about Shinji calling him ‘senpai’ in the spring and shivers with pleasure before pulling the blanket up higher over them both.

******

“Oi!” Iijima’s boss bellows at him when he rolls into work a half hour late, after he’d seen Shinji off, then stripped off all their clothes and seen him off again. Iijima waves off his boss and tries to keep his head from dipping as he writes the specials for the day on the board.

He’s still yawning even after the lunch rush, and he has fantasies of lying down to nap under the counter as he wipes it down with a wet rag.

“Oh, get out of here, would you?” Iijima looks up, realizing suddenly that his cheek is pressed against the counter, and finds his boss eyeing him with a mix of paternal affection and exasperation. “Go take a nap!”

Iijima laughs and thanks him as he unties his apron and shakes his hair out of the half-ponytail. But he doesn’t go home and he doesn’t take a nap, because it’s just about time for Shinji’s study group to be leaving the library.

It’s nice in the sun outside the library, and the bench is very comfortable, and Iijima just means to lie down for a second, but somehow finds himself being shaken awake yet again. This time, however, the sight that Iijima wakes up to is a lot more pleasant.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” Shinji asks, hitching his bag up on his shoulder.

“Got out early,” Iijima says easily, sitting up and rubbing at his hair. Shinji’s gaze sharpens, and Iijima admits, “I fell asleep on the counter. Want to get something to eat?”

“I’m supposed to go home for dinner,” Shinji says, which of course means yes.

They go out for burgers, Iijima wrinkling his nose at the amount of ketchup Shinji is ‘ruining’ his fries with, and Shinji sucks salt off his fingers and smiles when Iijima kicks his foot under the table.

“So what did you study today?” Iijima asks for the sake of conversation.

“We took a practice test,” Shinji answers quietly, staring into his milkshake. His hair is getting a little too long, brushing his cheeks as he leans forward, and Iijima thinks about how it feels running through his fingers.

“No point in asking how it went, huh?” Iijima reaches across the table before he can stop himself entirely, but covers by stealing a few of Shinji’s fries.

“No.” Shinji sighs, taking another long pull of his milkshake. “I thought things were going better for a while, but…I just don’t know where I’m going wrong.”

Iijima takes a long, hard look at Shinji. His shoulders are slumped, his eyes are ringed with exhaustion, and he’s wearing the same shirt as he was yesterday, before it had spent the night in a ball on Iijima’s floor.

“I think,” Iijima sighs, “that I might have an idea.”

As they are stepping out of the restaurant, closing their coats against the wind, Iijima reaches over and tugs on Shinji’s scarf.

“Hey,” he says, and tries to ignore the rush of warmth in his chest when Shinji immediately opens his mouth to agree that they should go back to Iijima’s place. Iijima swallows and says “Hey,” again, “maybe we should cool it for a little.”

Shinji blinks, pushing up his glasses, and Iijima has to shove his hands deep in his coat pockets and fist them there. “Are we fighting?”

“What? No!” Iijima says, having to look away from the way Shinji’s cheeks are pinking in the cold. If he doesn’t get out of here quick, he’s going to end up tossing Shinji down in the snow. “Shinji, I’m falling asleep at work.” When Shinji doesn’t say anything, just looks away, Iijima adds, “And the exams are coming up, you know?”

“The exams,” Shinji echoes, voice hollow.

“Look,” Iijima reaches out to touch Shinji’s shoulder, palms the curve of it. “Go home, have dinner with your family. Make your brother happy, huh? We could both use a good night’s sleep.”

Shinji doesn’t say anything else, and Iijima wants to kiss him for reassurance, on the street and everything, but knows if he does that he definitely will not send Shinji home to his brother or his bed.

Iijima doesn’t even bother turning on his lights in his apartment when he gets home, just kicks off his shoes and jeans and collapses on his blankets. He spends hours staring at his ceiling and thinking about how huge his futon suddenly feels.

*****

The first day will be the worst, Iijima thinks when he wakes up shivering in the middle of his futon. He calls Shinji that morning, just to make sure Shinji understands that they aren’t breaking up or anything like that, not like those other times. He isn’t even out of bed yet, and neither is Shinji, so it’s pretty much the same, right?

Shinji sounds better, he tells himself. Rested.

He doesn’t yawn at work, although he does look up every time someone comes in the door of the shop. He can’t help it, he insists when his boss teases him, and then slinks off to wash dishes when his boss asks where that kid is who hangs around Iijima all the time.

At home, he sits in front of the television and taps his cell phone on his leg, trying to decide how much damage calling Shinji will do, when the phone buzzes in his hand.

“Shinji!” he says when he answers, then clears his throat, blushing. “How are you?”

“Okay,” Shinji answers, and then there’s a long pause.

“How was class?” Iijima asks, then laughs when Shinji says “Okay” again and says, “Say something besides ‘Okay,’ idiot.”

“O—” Shinji takes an irritated breath and Iijima laughs again, gently, wishing that laugh were pressed against his shoulder. “I have some questions about the Calculus. Can I come over?”

Iijima has to take a deep, unsteady breath, because the answer is yes, so much yes, before he can manage to say, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Oh.” Shinji doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t hang up either.

“I’m off tomorrow,” Iijima says instead. “Let’s meet at the library, it might be…” Safer, he thinks. “…more productive.”

******

The second day sucks even more than the first one. If just thinking about Shinji being out of reach is bad, then sitting next to him in a public library, not able to touch him or even tease him above a whisper, is driving Iijima out of his mind.

“Look,” Iijima explains for the third time, tapping Shinji’s paper. “All you have to do is figure out the formula for the little cone and then subtract it from the formula for the big cone, then…”

“I’m never going to get this!” Shinji hisses, earning glares from the other students nearby; he slumps in his chair and stares at the book with open hatred.

“Maybe we should take a break.” Iijima sets down his pencil and runs fingers through his hair.

“I can’t!” Shinji straightens up and bends his head over the book again. “The test is next week! If I don’t learn this, I—this whole year, I’ll have…”

“You need a break,” Iijima repeats, gripping the edge of the table to keep from taking Shinji’s face between his hands and knocking his glasses off. Without thinking, he offers, “I’ll make you dinner.”

It’s a terrible idea, Iijima knows, but Shinji lifts his head, and his expression of relief is so plain that there’s no way Iijima has the heart to take it back now.

*******

They get about halfway through dinner before Iijima knocks Shinji down on his back, scattering rice from both of their bowls across the tatami. Shinji tastes like curry, a little spicy, and Iijima can’t get enough of Shinji’s skin, even if it’s only been 36 hours since the last time they were together.

Iijima rolls them over, since a few weeks ago he’d given Shinji some wicked tatami burns that meant Iijima could barely touch his shoulders afterwards. Besides, Shinji looks so good like this, straddling Iijima’s waist with his head thrown back, fisting his own cock when all Iijima can do is clutch at Shinji’s waist and moan.

“Your fault,” Shinji mutters when he’s draped over Iijima’s chest. Their stomachs stick together when they breath, and Iijima is burying his nose in Shinji’s hair and trying not to think about how much it’s going to hurt to send Shinji home. “You wear that silly apron and put your hair in that stupid ponytail.”

“I am a sexy son of a bitch,” Iijima answers, but it isn’t light like it usually is, and Shinji turns his head to blink at Iijima, squinting without his glasses. Iijima sighs and starts to sit them up. “Come on.”

“What?” Shinji is dead weight as Iijima struggles to a seat, clinging sleepily. “Quit it, m’tired.”

“Yeah, I know.” Iijima smoothed hands through Shinji’s hair, brushing it back from his heavy-lidded eyes and puffy lips. “That’s why you’re going home to get some rest.”

Shinji stares at him a little longer, lips barely parted, before pulling away and standing up stiffly to pick up his clothes. Iijima gets up too after a few seconds, picking up their bowls to put in the kitchen and rubbing the tatami dents embedded in his ass.

“Call me tomorrow, huh?” Iijima says, tugging his jeans back up the whole way and buttoning them. Shinji hitches the strap of his bag up onto his shoulder and gives Iijima a look over the top of his glasses that Iijima doesn’t like much.

“If I want to study?” Shinji asks, and he doesn’t wait for an answer before he stuffs his feet in his shoes and goes out the door.

Iijima stands in the doorway, rubbing his bare arms until the chill in the air forces him back inside to find his T-shirt.

*****

The third day is just as bad as the first day all over again. Iijima goes to work and goes home, reheats some curry from yesterday, but barely eats any of it. His phone sits on the table, silent, and Iijima spends a lot more time looking at it than his curry. He means to go to bed early, since he has the opportunity, but instead he ends up watching one ridiculous late night TV game show after another, and each time he thinks about crawling into bed, suddenly clicking the channel button on the remote regains its appeal.

On the fourth day, Iijima is at such loose ends that he actually does some schoolwork.

*****

On the fifth day, Iijima is well into his fourth Iron Chef episode when his phone actually does ring, and Iijima dives for it before the French cuisine chef can even brulée his crème.

“Shinji!” he exclaims into it, thumbing the mute button on the remote like a demon.

“Can you come over?” Shinji says without preamble, and Iijima glances at the darkening window and says he’ll be there in fifteen minutes as fast as he can make the syllables tumble off his tongue.

This isn’t smart either, Iijima knows as he stands on Shinji’s doorstep with his finger jammed down hard on the doorbell. But at this point, as the door is swinging open, he really just doesn’t care at all.

“Oh, it’s you,” Shinji’s brother sighs. He makes no move to stop blocking the doorway.

“Shinji invited me over.” Iijima gives Tsuruta-san the biggest smile he’s got on hand, and Tsuruta-san grinds his teeth at the use of Shinji’s given name.

There’s the sound of someone coming down the stairs behind Tsuruta-san, and then Shinji’s voice saying, “Weren’t you on your way out, big brother?”

Iijima tries not to look smug when Tsuruta-san is the one standing outside and Iijima is standing in the warm house next to Shinji. He’s failing, judging by the dark look Shinji gives him as he closes the door and leads Iijima upstairs.

“I’ve never been in your room before, you know,” Iijima says, looking around at the shelves of manga, the scatter of study guides across the desk, and the Western-style bed that Shinji is sitting down on. “So what’s up?”

“I wanted…” Shinji takes a deep breath and pushes up his glasses, then lifts his chin and gives Iijima a fierce look. “If you’re going to break up with me, just do it already.” Iijima’s jaw drops as he stares; Shinji’s fingers are clenched into the edge of his bedspread, but his voice is steady. “Just do it to my face.”

Iijima is crossing the room before he even knows what he’s doing, sinking fingers into his shoulders and shoving him down on his bed, crawling over top of him.

“I’m not breaking up with you, you idiot,” Iijima growls, and when Shinji turns his head away, Iijima grabs his chin and forces it back, kisses him hard.

Shinji tries to push him back, tries to ask him questions, but Iijima just keeps pressing their mouths together. He tosses Shinji’s glasses aside and peels off his shirt, pressing as close as he possibly can, as close as he can get without actually crawling inside Shinji’s skin. When Shinji seems sufficiently dazed not to ask any more stupid questions, Iijima reaches for Shinji’s jeans and sits up on his knees to push the zipper down and shove them out of the way.

“Hey, what—oh!” Shinji cuts himself off suddenly when Iijima drops down to take all of him into his mouth at once. Iijima settles himself more comfortably in between Shinji’s legs and goes on sucking steadily, working his hands underneath Shinji to push his jeans further out of the way and slide his palms over the curve of his ass.

Hands work their way into Iijima’s hair and tug, Shinji’s nails catching against his scalp where they’re ragged from him chewing them. Iijima moans around Shinji’s cock and leans into the touch, as much as he can without releasing a single inch of Shinji, and he rubs his own erection against the mattress as Shinji starts making his own noises, breathless little gasps and whimpers.

“Iijima,” Shinji groans, and he tries to tug Iijima’s head away. Iijima growls again and tightens his grip, works Shinji’s cock just a little harder, hard enough to make him make some real noise, and Iijima doesn’t stop until Shinji begs him to, voice hoarse and shivering with aftershocks.

Iijima pulls away and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. His own cock is still rock hard, but there are better things to touch, like Shinji’s flushed cheeks and mussed hair. When Shinji’s eyes start to clear, Iijima tells him again that he’s an idiot.

“Then what’s this all about?” Shinji finally shrugs off Iijima’s hands to ask. “Why don’t you want me over anymore?”

“I do, Shinji, it’s not that, it’s…” Iijima sighs and reaches over to brush his thumb under Shinji’s eye. “You look so tired. And you should be studying right now, I should be letting you study, because your test is next week, the real one, and instead of helping you, I’m keeping you up all night.”

“I don’t care about that!” Shinji snaps, but Iijima cuts him off with another kiss.

“Yeah, you do.” Iijima is still touching Shinji’s face, lips only just far enough away from Shinji’s to talk. “You want to go to Tourin, right?”

“But Iijima…”

“Because I want you to.” Iijima stops for a second as his words sink into his own brain, then he laughs, pressing his forehead against Shinji’s. “I want you to…Shinji, I’ve been acting kind of crazy, huh?”

“Just a little,” Shinji answers. He shifts and reaches for Iijima’s jeans, undoing the button.

“I’m a selfish kind of guy, you know. I wanted you to study so,” Iijima catches his breath as Shinji pulls his cock free and closes fingers around it, “so you can be my kouhai next year.” Iijima gasps and drops one hand to wrap around the back of Shinji’s. “I was thinking about…how hot that would be.” Iijima’s cheeks heat with the confession, with the way Shinji’s eyes widen.

“I-Iijima,” Shinji stutters, hands stilling, then he laughs and squeezes Iijima, making him gasp. “If all you want is for me to call you senpai, you don’t have to wait until next spring.”

“Oh?” Iijima asks, eyeing Shinji with shameless interest.

“No.” Shinji’s smile is wicked and makes Iijima’s cock jump in his hand. “I think I’d like some private tutoring right now, Iijima-senpai.”

“Shinji.” It makes Iijima’s breath catch, makes him wrap arms around Shinji’s neck and hold him as tightly as he can manage. “Say it again.”

“You should call me Shinji-kun,” Shinji whispers. “Senpai.”

*****

It’s still dark when Iijima’s eyes flutter open, and he has a moment of disorientation before he realizes he’s in a bed, in Shinji’s bed, with Shinji spooned up against his back and drooling on his shoulderblade.

“Hey,” Iijima whispers, rolling over and getting his arm under Shinji’s head to gather him closer. “Hey, Shinji-kun.”

“Mm, what?” Shinji mumbles, pressing his face against Iijima’s chest. Iijima uses the sheet to wipe the drool off Shinji’s chin.

“Want to come over to my place later?”

“Iijimaaaa.” Shinji bumps his head against Iijima’s collarbone. “Have to study later.”

“Mmhmm,” Iijima agrees, settling back down against the pillow. “I’ve got some techniques I think will help. But we probably shouldn’t perfect them under the same roof as your brother.”

Shinji bites down on Iijima’s shoulder, making him yelp, and he tickles Shinji in retaliation until their scuffling makes Shinji’s brother pound on the wall.

“Shinji-kun,” Iijima says when they are settled back down, Iijima wrapped around Shinji’s back this time, “let’s work hard tomorrow, okay?”

“Mm.” Shinji is warm and tucked tightly in Iijima’s grip and already half-asleep. “Take good care of me, senpai.”

And that just means that Iijima has to wake Shinji up all over again.