Chapter Text
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.
Oga doesn’t exactly understand the implications of that quote, nor does he particularly give a shit about Jane Austen in general. What he does know that in the vast amount of time between the first day he was born and his current life, is that he has built a goddamn empire strong enough to rival anyone and anything, any day.
It’s strange to think that’s he’s amounted to this much - growing from a lonely angry boy that uses his fists for his own fun, to someone who has gathered a group of loyal, ugh, friends, by his side. It’s good, really, being able to command a level of respect he usually doesn’t even have for himself some days, along with the knowledge that if anything ever went to (shit) again, he wouldn’t be doing it alone. He’s not an animal anymore, it seems, feral in his features with an incomprehension of others around him, unable to understand the hand that feeds out of love.
With his own two splintered hands, he has carved an empire both underneath and around him, a little place to call his own. Anyone would be proud of that.
And yet, he stands here, standing under a saturated sunset and watching his best friend gaze across the river. A light breeze kicks in, sending a gentle ruffle through Furuichi’s hair. In this light, the strands float up and dazzle the sun, blossoming into a radiant halo around his face. Oga watches, transfixed, as his best friend drags a hand through his hair, smoothing the halo back down. Even as he stalks back to him with a casual ease, he can’t suppress the shudder that runs through him when he catches the expanse of pale neck in front of him.
Furuichi lets out a sudden yawn and he slaps Oga on the shoulder.
“Let’s go home, the sun going to be gone soon, and I have a new video game I wanna start on.”
Oga bares his teeth in mock aggression, Baby Beel attempting to copy his expression with his eyebrows. Furuichi huffs and flicks both of them in the forehead before fluttering off quickly.
Oga turns to follow, but he can’t shake the searing heat of Furuichi’s touch. It leaves a brand through his uniform, seeping into his skin and raising a trail of goosebumps. He frowns, scratching idly at his shoulder as he follows Furuichi up the side of the hill, back unto the pedestrian path. That burning sensation increases and flows outward, eating up his body like a snake devouring a rat.
He blinks rapidly, heart beginning to race as Furuichi’s turns to face him.
Furuichi scrunches his nose. “Can you hurry the fuck up?”
Oga gapes, face paling as he takes in the way the last rays of the sun glitter in his eyes. He turns to look at Beel, then back to Furuichi.
Oh, oh my god.
Furuichi tilts his head, sneering before snagging both their bags. The heat has encompassed his lower half, resulting in some sort of churning sensation his his belly and the beginnings of some incredibly sweaty palms.
Oh fuck, Furuichi's cursed!