For the last few years, Akira was a part-timer at what was basically a spa. They advertised massages, body care, and touch. The 'basically' referred to how it offered a little more than one's average spa and sauna. 

However, since he'd been underage when he joined, he earned cash only for the cheaper sets, which included using his hands, mouth, and thighs. Even now, his regulars didn't demand anything more from him. Those that wanted something more explicit were referred to the shop's No. 1: Takahashi Monohime, who was more than happy to oblige. 

When Akira was in his first year of high school, a boy arrived at the shop one night at the ungodly hour of 3a.m. He hadn't been drunk or lost, only hopelessly crying. 

It wasn't enough to describe him as 'beautiful' when his every feature was drawn to perfection, beyond what anyone could conjure in a fantasy. Even with beads of tears caught in his eyelashes, curving over the angular sharpness of his jaw, he was stunning. 

And he was Surya. 

Akira had obviously encountered others who were shaking from nerves, angry at their own attraction, or there because their friends had dared them. But the warm weight of Akira's hand on their knee, a gentle kiss on their forehead, or the dip of their collarbone would soften them like snow in the palm of his hand. 

Sometimes all he had to do was kneel between their legs, and their fingers would sift through his hair, their nails scraping against his scalp, and they'd yank his mouth wherever they wanted it. He'd feel the shuddering heat of their thighs around his ears, and he'd know this had nothing to do with any real affection. 

That night, he'd recognised Surya instantly from Hanseol High. It was impossible not to, since Surya was chair of the student council and always the talk of the school. 

Of course, their meeting at the shop was vastly different than sitting in a packed hall, watching Surya's distant figure at the podium as he addressed a sea of students. For starters, Akira hadn't been wearing his uniform; rather, he donned a thin robe that whispered across the carpet and was loose everywhere but where it hugged his hips. And they'd stood just across from each other. And Surya was sobbing. 

It might've been because Surya hadn't expected someone as young as Akira to attend him, or he was frightened of being judged. In all honesty, Akira was more enraptured by how the rain outside had made Surya's clothes stick to his every curve and how it slicked his hair away from his cutting features. 

Sure, Akira's thoughts might've been going in all the wrong directions, but he'd have said anything to catch Surya in that moment. So when Surya visibly geared himself up to flee, Akira blurted out the first thing that came to mind: 

"Tea," he'd said. 

Like a true master of seduction. A courting mastermind. 

"We've got ginger or jasmine tea. Which one would you prefer?" When there wasn't any response besides some muted sniffling, Akira hummed and just went about making jasmine. "Sometimes it's nice just to talk, don't you think?"

It wasn't like they had a real conversation, though. 

Akira directed Surya to sit on the cushions, but Surya sat on the floor of all places, so Akira slid down the wall to join him with a mug of steaming tea. It was Akira's mug, too, so it displayed a bright green flamingo standing on a rainbow, which was not only an affront to one's senses but also the least attractive thing in the whole building.

The tea was half finished by the time Surya calmed down. 

He then, surprisingly, spoke a little about his sexuality and what that meant for him. To him. So Akira vaguely shared some of the diverse experiences he'd had with other people's preferences and how often liking someone didn't have to mean anything more than that. 

In the last quarter of their session, Akira touched Surya's elbow, leaning in to ask if he really didn't want anything else, and Surya stunned him by twining their hands together. They sat there, palm pressed against palm, while Surya dried his cheeks with the edges of his sleeve. 

It was the most innocent session Akira ever held, but as it turned out, it meant more to him than it did to Surya. The courteous half-smile Surya directed at him if they happened to pass in the hallway was just as vacant as the one he directed at everyone else. That friendliness was empty. 

So while Akira's naïve hope drove him to check the shop's monitors frequently, waiting for Surya to visit again, Surya didn't even recognise him standing face-to-face at school. 

And that was fine. That was life. 

When Surya graduated, Akira had to accept that he'd likely never see anyone like Surya again, even in the hallway. 

But of course at Kaoru, Otsuka was talking about some angel at their pre-semester practice, and suddenly it was like everyone was mentioning Surya every minute of every day, and Akira's hopes of meeting him rose sky-high. 

What he never fully considered in all his daydreaming was that Surya had a secretly difficult personality and that for their first proper conversation alone, it'd devolve into a fight. 

Who knew that without Daichi's sarcastic teasing to temper it, Surya's comments could be so biting? But that was something Akira was forced to learn only after the camp, when he was caught by the tyrant after class.