Akira touched the base of his nose. Last night he’d had a bad nose bleed. He managed to scrub the stains out of the sheets and pillow cases, but the pillows themselves were permanently marked. He was nervous about having a nose bleed now in front of the idiot. It was difficult enough to keep having to deny that helping him wasn’t infringing on his own studying, without having such an obvious physical sign that Akira was overworking himself.

‘You alright, Aki?’ the idiot asked, his disconcertingly blue eyes wide with genuine concern. ‘You’re not snapping at me as much as usual?’

‘I’m fine. Focus on the material not me.’

‘You can be true with me, mate. I know something’s up, you haven’t even sent me to my room to get dressed.’

Akira glanced at the idiot sitting on the sofa, the notes on his lap covering more skin than the miniscule jockstrap he was wearing which was fighting a losing battle to contain him. He immediately made a note in his diary to contact their benefactor about an additional clothes allowance. It’d been remiss not to think that a late blooming alpha didn’t need new underwear.

Another area he’d failed. How many more would there be? He could only hope he discovered them before the damage was irreversible. And that none were as big as the gaps in the idiot’s knowledge. Across the years Akira had never realised that the idiot hadn’t just got his ideas about alphas from trash television, but his whole knowledge of the world. How had he been so oblivious?

Because it suited him. Even at a young age, the contrast between life with his parents and life at the orphanage had made him realise he’d need to focus entirely on himself to not be forever trapped by the limited education and poverty.

He’d been seven when he first met the six-year-old idiot. From the beginning it was clear that the yellow mop-haired boy wasn’t a genius; no one as bouncy as him could ever be overloaded with intelligence.

Akira had obviously handled the university application and the writing of all personal statements, relying correctly on the fact that the idiot’s athletic excellence would take the attention away from his academic performance. If, say, Akira’s pen had slipped and he’d accidentally written in the wrong grades, no one was going to check them. Especially once they interviewed the idiot. The bullying had scarred the idiot to the extent that he still hadn’t realised the power of the easy alpha charm he possessed. Instead seeming to yearn for Akira’s own aloofness as some sort of alpha ideal.

He dropped his head into his hands. Then jumped as a large warm hand rubbed the back of his neck.

‘Aki, please take a break. I thought you were just ignoring me like normal, but you’re looking really dazed. I don’t think you’ve heard anything I said? How about I run you a nice bath, and I can give you a full body massage after? I might not be good at the learning side, but even the new coach admitted that I’ve got the best massage technique out of everyone, even better than the third years! My freakishly huge hands have a good use at last!’

Akira frowned. ‘I don’t need a sports massage. I need you to learn basic general knowledge so some piece of dick cheese can’t stomp around thinking he’s better than you.’

The idiot laughed a loud open-mouthed laugh. ‘Did you just call someone a dick cheese? You really are tired. Where’s the Aki I know and love who delivers insults in a thousand syllable words that no one but him understands?’ He laughed some more, then said, ‘But, yaknow, I wouldn’t be giving you a hardcore thumpy thumpy sports massage, I’m great at the relaxing sleepy ones too.’

To demonstrate he started gently circling his hands over Akira’s neck and shoulders.

‘Feels good, right?’

It did feel good. Maybe he could just close his eyes and let the idiot do his thing. He noticed that the idiot’s thumbs were playing across the area where Akira’s hair grew in annoying tufts. Just like he had when they were young.

Akira opened his eyes properly, put a hand in the centre of the idiot’s chest and pushed him away.

‘When you peeled off your clothes as soon as you came in, I let it pass, as I assumed you’d had a hard workout and that this once, it might be beneficial for you to study in the relaxed state you prefer. But if you think being pawed at by a nearly naked sweating alpha is in anyway something I want, you’re deeply wrong. Stop wasting my time. Sit down and try to actually learn something today.’

The idiot gave him one of his mournful looks, but then thankfully obeyed.

Akira needed to do better. For both of them.