SaruMi Oneshots

Hormones and Lies {Angst}

Misaki Yatagarasu is not gay. He's just... a little hormonal at the moment!

At least, that's his explanation for why he wants his best friend, his only friend, to fuck him senseless. They've been friends forever, and they've lived together for as long as he could be bothered to remember, which means his attraction to Fushimi is solely puberty making him a horny little shit!

His logic is lightly flawed though... Saruhiko is the only man he's into, the only person with a dick he wants to fuck. If it were hormones, he'd want to fuck every mildly attractive person he met.

That's Saru's explanation, the one he gave to Misaki after their first little... hookup? Fushimi doesn't consider it just a hookup, and they hadn't gone far enough for it to be one either. He really does love Yata, more than anything... so when the 'hormonal' boy had finally made a move...

Well, he'd been ecstatic! His first love held his feelings as well! The kiss Misaki had given him escalated into a gentle make out session on their ratty old couch. Saru had taken that little step further, his hips had pressed so gently against Yata's...

Everything was a blur after that. Rough frotting on the couch, the short travel to the bedroom, lips locked the whole time... and then Yata had blown him.

It wasn't great. It had been sloppy, but just the thought of Misaki touching him used to get him off... with Yata actually going further than a little touch, actually sucking him off... Saru came faster than he thought possible.

He'd moved to try and give, who he'd considered his lover at that point, a hand job, but... Yata shoved him away. He'd realized what was going on, realized what he'd just done... Yata blew his best friend... he even... he swallowed it all, everything...

The redhead looked so fucking angry and disgusted with himself, that when Saru had said those dreaded words, words he'd never thought he could say truly to anybody after his childhood, he'd taken out all of his self-hatred on the taller man.

Saruhiko had told him he loved him... and that made Yata break, screaming about how he could never love another man, how it's only hormones... how Saru disgusts him.

And then he'd left the apartment...

Saru learned the next day, that Yata had slept at their clan's bar. Misaki ignored him from then on, and everytime Fushimi had tried to talk to him about what happened, about how he really does love Yata, he'd get a slap across the face, and the only person he'd trusted in years would grow further and further away...

What really tore Saru's heart out, made him grow cold and angry again, was Yata clinging to Mikoto, treating him like a god... almost idolizing the older man... just like he'd treated Saru himself, only months earlier.

After almost a year of that shit, Saruhiko decided it was best to move out... to leave the clan too.

Yata can afford to live in their apartment by himself now, and it wouldn't matter if he couldn't anyways. He has Mikoto, he has Tatara... he doesn't need Fushimi anymore. He doesn't need his roommate anymore.

Snapping himself quickly from his thoughts, Saru refuses to let self pity settle in, continuing to fold his clothes, slamming them in one of his few boxes as hard and as fast as he can. His teeth clench tightly as he reaches up to his dresser again, his hand faltering in the cool air, his eyes softening for a moment.

That stupid picture Yata had given him... him and the heartbreaker forced close together by a few of the idiot clansmen, a huge, stupid grin spread out on Yata's face, and a soft, barely there smirk on Saru's. Within seconds, his mild heartache is overwhelmed with rage, and the framed picture is sent flying into their small living room, shattering against a wall.