The sun has yet to move above the horizon, but it paints the sky in a coat of transitioning blue. Specs of purple, kisses of red, and oranges all dance in the wake of its coming. A palette party.

The flyer in Crescent's bag demands that students who lack morning love be awake and ready to go before the morning begins.

The strict time pumps out a groggy Crescent, standing in his uniform as neatly as he can muster, beside a chirpy Ahni. This is exciting to him. Field trips mean time away from schoolwork. No matter the demands, Ahni doesn't care.

Bouncing on his heels, Ahni looks around at the large charter buses arriving in front of the gates. Two groups of students wait for two buses, each filling up quickly. While they aren't sure who else is attending due to last-minute arrangements, they are aware of the name of the place they are heading to.

A resort built some time ago stands the test of time on an isolated small island. It now struggles to gain tourism, so Nirvana Academy lends a helping hand.

A gang of males, cleaning, and advertising to impress the locals with the beauty of Hilla Cure. The idea is enough to get Ahni's gears going. It's a shame standing beside him with droopy eyes, hanging glasses, and falling face, his brother trying to hold it together.

Crescent blamed yesterday's vigorous P.E. class for his lack of sleep, or at least that's what he told Ahni. The truth is that encountering Phantom and realizing how little he means to Asho has been weighing on his mind. Asho seems to be deliberately sabotaging his mission for reasons that Crescent can't understand.

All he knows is that other gangs are being drawn into this mess.

The area is quiet, students line up appropriately with their suitcases and other essentials to board the buses. One of the chaperones is none other than the science teacher. He approaches the front of the first bus, raising his hand to get everyone's attention.

Mr. Riley is a respected man. He's famous around Nirvana for his sternness and father-like attitude. So many of these lost students lack strong fathers. To have Mr. Riley here, let's just say he has many sons now.

Average in height with a full black beard and short hair, Mr. Riley only ever wears the same brand of shirts. He doesn't mind the color. A simple man with a simple wardrobe. Calm, collected he speaks, obviously a morning person.

"Alright, gentlemen. With only four of us teachers attending, two per bus, we ask that you are on your best behavior. We represent Nirvana and will not tolerate any type of misconduct. I know many of you personally, so let's work together, do our jobs, and have fun while we do it."

An advertising ploy for Nirvana Academy. Smart Principal. A school of Satan's spawns doing well to their surroundings. What a headline. More proof of them 'changing' into respectable adults.

Bullshit.

"We have two buses. You standing beside bus two, please follow the math teacher, Mrs. Chyane. You will also have Mr. Bints with you. He usually swaps with Mrs. Chyane for math. I and Mr. Garcia who teaches Spanish will be on charter bus one. I want you to place your bags neatly in the overheads as you board. There is enough space. Choose your seats wisely, you'll be stuck with them for the remainder of the ride. Alright, load up fellas."

Being in the front of the line, Ahni grips the mass of what looks like his brother leading him into the bus. Knowing Crescent likes the window seat, Ahni falls comfortably behind him. Hands placed on Crescent's shoulders, he leans over unable to contain his excitement.

"Man, I hear this is expensive. We made it. We're important now, huh Crescent?"

"I'm glad you're happy Ahni." Crescent groans back. The back of the bus is too far away in his eyes, and Crescent thought it would be more comfortable sitting behind the bus driver. As The Phantom said, he will be safe for as long as he attends. The students never did anything beneath the eyes of teachers.

With four teachers and a small group, he fully understands now.

Dipping poorly into a seat, Crescent falls with a small sigh. He wants to return to sleeping, but that will have to hold off. With nurse Ahni not too far behind, Crescent's bag is placed in the overhead.

Ahni plops down to watch the bus suddenly fill up. He remembers some of the students from his classes, who kindly speak to him as they pass. Friends are what they're calling them. He finally has a few of his own.

One-half of the students pour on, and Mr. Garcia finds his seat. Now with the other half coming, there are a few more familiar faces. Asho and Vergyl climb on, greeted by their gang members.

Crescent makes sure to avert his gaze as Ahni speaks to them. Feeling the tension between the two, Ahni turns to ask Crescent what's the matter, but Crescent doesn't answer. Like a wave, a handful of others soon join the bus, talking and chattering amongst themselves before Saikai slips on telling them to hurry to their seats.

His eyes dance around to spot Crescent and he snickers. The last of their small group is no one other than Kisha. Who Crescent hasn't seen for quite some time now.

Kisha doesn't once acknowledge him. He has to call authority, telling his members to hurry on with a low growl. Almost knocking Saikai into a seat, Kisha reaches above him to get their attention. They straighten up quickly, hurrying to dodge his swings.

The middle to the back is now full, Mr. Riley climbs in and assigns a seat across from the two brothers. After his bag is securely tucked, he moves his frame into the aisle. Again hand raises, their attention on him.

"We're out early, so we will stop for breakfast. The small monitor above your seats, leave them alone." He sighs. "The bus is packed with Wi-Fi, so use your devices instead. If you need to block out sunlight, lower your shades. I will not tell you to keep the noise down but be mindful of the driver. It will take us six hours to get there. Refer to your manuals for anything else. Located uphill, a shopping center. Get your food and return to the bus; first mission. We will be there shortly."

The doors swing close, the engine engages and the bus soon begins its departure. Weakly digging into his pocket, Crescent pulls out the only ten dollars he has, offering it to Ahni.

"Get you something. I'm gonna nap."

Hesitantly taking the money, Ahni looks to his brother for approval.

"We can share."

"I'm not hungry," Crescent says, but it's clear he's lying. Ahni understands that Crescent needs the food more than he does. As he looks at the bill, he sinks into his seat, feeling the weight of the situation. Crescent skipped lunch and dinner yesterday, and now he's missing breakfast, too. The thought of his brother going hungry tugs at Ahni's heart, making it hard for him to consider eating. A deep sense of regret washes over him. He wishes Crescent would share what's troubling him, but he hides his feelings so well. It frustrates Ahni, knowing that his brother is struggling in silence.

--------------------------------------------------------

Bump. Bump. Bump...

"Ungh..." Crescent who fell asleep now feels the knocking of his skull against the window. Any more than this and he's going to get a headache. One last bump and Crescent forces himself to sit upward, irritated. Hands and legs extend out in front of him, and he lets out a small moan. That small nap is enough to wash away his tiredness but now he's something else, starving.

The aroma on the bus smells intoxicating. From chicken, burgers, tacos, and sandwiches. All the students are eating pretty well. Must be nice to have the support of their parents. He hopes Ahni has found enough and filled his belly. Crescent fixes his glasses, squinting his eyes from developing tears. He sniffles.

"You find something good?" He asks Ahni without looking, but his brother doesn't answer. Crescent often finds himself speaking to Ahni without looking in his general direction because growing up, he always knew Ahni would be by his side. Instead, a sandwich that smells of chicken whips in front of his face, blocking his sight. He gasps, drawing his head back in instinct as his eyes travel cross-eyed.

The hand doesn't stop there, venturing towards him until the warm wrapper presses at his lips with a firm touch. Slightly parted lips give enough space for heat to touch his teeth. With that Crescent can feel his stomach churning. Tempting him to just bite through the wrapper.

Yellow in color, cheese, and mayonnaise are revealed through the dampened greasy cover. It looks delicious. It smells even better, but what catches his eye is the hand holding it.

Darker than his brother's complexion, the fingers are larger and have very smooth, almost pointed fingernail tips. Crescent quickly turns to see what has happened to Ahni, only to be struck with an abrupt, hard thump in his chest.

Seated closely together, Crescent feels the warmth radiating from Kisha as their shoulders press against each other. He instinctively keeps his thighs together, trying to carve out a bit of personal space, but Kisha leans in further, making it clear they're both sharing this moment.

Kisha's long, white hair, styled in a high ponytail, occasionally threatens to brush against Crescent's cheek, a gentle reminder of his presence. He's been sitting on his hair to keep it in check, but the bumpy ride causes them to almost bounce together, leading to an awkward blend of intimacy and discomfort.

With every small movement, a soothing scent of passion fruit wafts from Kisha's clothing, wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. Crescent can't help but appreciate how good he smells, and how Kisha looks even more polished than usual. His icy blue eyes seem to hold Crescent in an intense gaze, filled with unspoken feelings. It's clear that Kisha has put extra effort into his appearance today, and it doesn't go unnoticed.

"Kisha..." Crescent whispers.

"Mm?" Kisha responds almost instantly, his voice soft and curious. He can't help but notice the baffled but endearing look on Crescent's face, and it brings warmth to his heart. As he watches him, he sees his cheeks turning a light pink, and he feels a rush of compassion for his discomfort. It's clear Crescent's a bit self-conscious about them sitting so close together and Kisha wishes to ease the tension between them.

"Nothing..." Crescent whips his head towards the window, arms drawn to his chest. This is too much, too soon.

Where is Ahni, and why have their seats been switched? A silence descends between them, yet Crescent senses Kisha's gaze with every breath he takes. The hairs on his arms rise, and the feeling of being watched intensifies. He feels a tingle, uncertain of how to break the ice. The situation is awkward. With each jolt of the bus, Kisha inches closer, and Crescent presses himself against the window, becoming an uncomfortable imprint.

Once more, Kisha's hand reaches for his lips. A gentle touch from the sandwich, and Crescent reaches his limit. He dismisses Kisha's offer with a push and a defiant shake of his head. His primary concern is to steady his racing heart. Crescent breathes in deeply, yet his breaths out are ragged, punctuated by tremors. Turning to Kisha, he attempts to convey a tone of unwelcome.

"You should go back to your gang. I don't need someone feeding me. Besides, I'm not hungry..."

"Ahh..." Kisha demonstrates by parting lips, his small fangs protruding beneath his top one. Crescent can't help but look into his mouth as Kisha's pink tongue sticks out slightly to rest on his bottom lip.

"I s-said I'm fine..." Captivating. Thick, soft lips are now dampened by warm saliva. Curiosity about how he tastes creeps into Crescent's mind in that instant. He let out a small uh, eyes widening at the image he's presented. Though this is quite childish, Kisha trying to tell him how to eat as if he isn't an adult, and he finds the idea of it kind of cute. He chases the thoughts by rolling his eyes as they pop up.

Kisha closes his mouth, placing the sandwich on the armrest. He takes in a light breath, getting comfortable in the seat with a dip of his frame. He had noticed after everyone left the bus, Crescent stayed behind, curled in the seat. After ushering his members off along with Saikai, standing and getting food, and even returning, he still saw that Crescent had not budged an inch. Crescent looked cold, alone and he felt a tugging need to help him. That's how Kisha ended up here. Making sure to hop on before Ahni, Kisha stole his seat only to find Crescent was sleeping soundly. He'd never admit that he's here to comfort Crescent.

"The vandalism..." Kisha whispers, deciding upon a subject change. He has ample excuse to make Crescent believe why he had come.

"I don't want to talk about that. Especially with you..." Crescent's voice trails.

"You think of me lowly." Kisha counters only for Crescent to spit back his defense. 

"How could I not, Kisha? You forgot what happened? Literally, in front of you... I w-was---" Whining like a bitch and blaming Kisha for his demise? Crescent cut his voice, tucking his lip between his teeth. Swept by the moment of trying to find out what transpired between them, he was naive to trust in Saikai. Crescent tightens his fist.

"I'm sorry," Kisha's voice, though often monotone, carries a softness that reflects his true feelings. Admitting he's wrong doesn't come easily to him, but he genuinely wishes his words convey the sincerity he feels inside.

Crescent looks down, his hands fidgeting shyly at his fingertips. He feels self-conscious and alert, but there is comfort in Kisha's words. The sweet apology echoes in his ears, softening the resentment he had been harboring. Although he's scared and Kisha hasn't exactly helped him, he is grateful for his presence. He dislikes the feeling of being vulnerable under Kisha's kindness. For once, he wants to trust in someone.

"You must love bringing us into drama."

"They're after me, idiot. You have nothing to do with--"

"The ID you wore that day." Kisha cut Crescent off matter-of-factly.

"You're kidding... You and Saikai lead The Pack?" Crescent looks down at his hands once more.

The ID swap was to throw D.A. off and make them believe that he was a part of Saikai's gang. Asho was a coward to face the leader of D.A. on his own. Everyone seemed weary of this individual as if he had been a curse or a taboo here at Nirvana Academy. Who is this mysterious figure? The other top gang leader. The vandalism was pinned on Saikai soon after. Then Asho purposely put the flyers out to expose Crescent, but it still didn't make sense.

Why Crescent?

"Why is it me? There were so many men during the raid. I wasn't even the leader. I was just the smartest. I'm guessing now since D.A.'s leader has my face, he's going to come after me."

"I'll do what I can."

The sudden rush hit Crescent again. His heart skips a beat. What is Kisha talking about? He sounds so serious with a bit of hostility laced at his lips. Voice low, confident in his promise. His lips pull into his mouth, Crescent can't help but feel a wave of contentment. The strong person he desires on his side the moment he hears about Kisha's background has suddenly pledged to protect him. They weren't a part of the same gang and Crescent learned later how interacting with someone from the rival side could be detrimental to gang secrecy. Kisha's taking a big risk.

With every encounter, his emotions boil near Kisha. What he fails to admit is that husky voice so close to his ears brings back his thoughts that night in the shower. He's a sinner, but he doesn't regret it. He'll beat off again if those eyes or that voice tells him to and that's what bothers Crescent. To be this submissive in Kisha's presence, he's willing to throw himself off a cliff due to the chemistry he feels.

He wants Kisha in more than one way, but he won't openly say it. Guilty pleasure ripples through him. He has the courage; he's stubborn. The sexual tension between them is obvious. Either Kisha feels the same or Crescent again just reading into the situation too much. 

Kisha falls even further into his seat, releasing a large breath, he crosses his arms and his head instinctively dips to softly lay at his shoulder. Conversation over. He's socially drained. Being away from Saikai means a moment of peace. He can recharge without having his guard up. He will gladly take it. Saikai's babbling drew the others, liking how they all could freely express and get under Kisha's skin.

Crescent awkwardly darts his eyes toward Kisha without turning his head to see if he's still looking at him. His bangs are cutting his view, but the bouncing of the bus knocks his hair aside a few times.

In his peripheral vision; however, Kisha is relaxing soundly. Crescent takes the time to fully turn, being close enough to finally see how Kisha looks up close without the intense stare.

A prominent scar runs diagonally above his eye, a tangible reminder that something significant had transpired in his life. This detail piqued Crescent's curiosity—could it be an injury he had endured during his time at Nirvana, or is it a remnant from childhood? Chubby first-year Kisha has certainly stirred the pot with rumors, painting him as a fierce and formidable fighter.

Kisha's hair contrasts with his strikingly dark lashes and eyebrows, which are thick and frame his intense gaze. His features are undeniably strong; he bears a well-defined jawline and a smooth, hairless complexion that seems to invite touch. Crescent notes his long, straight nose and deep-set eyes, perfectly aligned above prominent cheekbones—distinctive traits that many will envy. There's an undeniable beauty among Indigenous people, and Crescent finds himself wondering if Kisha's aware of his roots and cultural heritage.

Kisha possesses a beauty capable of winning over countless hearts, even inciting envy among gods known for their charm. The thickness of his neck hints at the muscle concealed beneath his fitted clothing, a testament to his strength. Broad shoulders transition into a slender torso, leading to long limbs that command attention. His hands are substantial and somewhat calloused, revealing that he's no stranger to hard work. The veins that stand out on the backs of his hands add to the ruggedness of his appearance.

At the bridge of his nose, faint but noticeable creases spoke of experience—perhaps from worry or contemplation. Despite often carrying a seemingly lifeless expression, this is a rare moment when Kisha appears completely at ease; in that instance, his guard is none, and he radiates a sense of tranquility that is both captivating and unexpected.

Crescent can't help but stare at how soft and youthful Kisha looks, skin radiating an almost ethereal beauty. The light pink of his smooth lips fills Crescent with a longing, a deep curiosity about how they might feel against his own. As Crescent's heart races, a comforting calm washes over him. The pull he feels is intense and almost overwhelming as if Kisha's presence is a magnetic force he can't resist.

Crescent's unable to understand it, but those eyes, which had once seemed daunting, now dance around his features, taking him in and making him feel seen for the first time. At these moments, Crescent realizes that he has never felt attractive to anyone, and the awareness of Kisha's attention fills him. Someone wants him for once.

His hand rises slowly, hesitantly drifting towards Kisha's face. He always wants to touch him even if for a little while. Touching Kisha feels right. His fingers lightly twitch, only inches apart he feels the warm breath brushing at his tips from Kisha's heavy huffs. The sensation crawling up Crescent's arm sends shivers down his spine, but Crescent freezes in place, thinking he'd only stain what has been perfect. Staying like this for a while he doesn't mind. If the entire bus ride is just watching Kisha rest then he'll enjoy that too. These thoughts flow through Crescent's mind as he finds a little bit of purpose.

Kisha opens his eyes slowly, his sense of smell taking in salted skin, alerting him that something is dangling too close for comfort. His hues look within Crescents for an answer. It isn't every day someone decides to stick their fingers in his face. Kisha has boundaries and he has no problem expressing them.

"Ah... Excuse me," Crescent whispers as he's caught off guard. What he's doing he realizes is creepy. His limb hangs in place, and curious eyes bounce back and forth from Kisha's lips to his eyes. The awkwardness that revs up inside of Crescent's heart soon takes over and a worried expression casts over his face.

Embarrassing. He wants to hide. Being so careless to think he's not overstepping.

"Don't stop... You smell nice." Kisha breathes erotically as if they are already engaging in something steamy. The lure of those soft fingers is dangerously close to him and the chemical radiating from Crescent's pounding heart is almost too sweet. Kisha urges to lean forward and bite them, before pulling them between his fangs with a sweep of his tongue.

Inviting, demanding, and pleading Kisha's tone; ready to fall from whatever cliff they are hanging from. 

"Unless," Kisha extends his hand, cupping Crescent's face with heavy impatience. He tugs on Crescent's jaw, bringing them closer before he tilts his head to give access to their lips. His palm is warm, thumb brought up to lightly trace circles at Crescent's bottom lip which seem to have been licked recently. Bold, too daring, Kisha's eyes reflect a dangerous craving that intensifies with every slow blink. 

"You want me to touch you..." Kisha's voice states in a husky, sexually driven desire. His eyebrows dance only slightly, trailing hues falling to stare at Crescent's lips. Kisha brings out his tongue, drawing in his bottom lip as the anticipation climbs. What transpired the night before he admits that he can accept Crescent sexually.

Those seeking golden eyes, Kisha wants to own them.

Kisha presses his finger into Crescent's mouth, firmly, his eyes changing to an empty stare in a way that signifies that maybe the thoughts in his mind are too devilish to speak. Crescent closes one of his eyes from the pain, falling into the demands of Kisha's trance. Kisha's hand is hotter than any human's, causing Crescent's skin to sweat. 

"Tell me you want it." The words from Kisha cause Crescent to take notice at how sexually charged this moment is becoming. Though he too will not mind diving into the depths, they're on a bus full of others. Kisha's ready to risk it all. They both sit in silence as Crescent can't answer back. His throat is dry as the courage he felt, spills out.

This is not the familiar Kisha Crescent had come to know; this is someone unrestrained and different. Crescent's heart races as he meets Kisha's gaze, which flickers with an intense, primal hunger, feral, insatiable, and raw. Each breath sends shivers coursing down Crescent's legs, igniting both excitement and trepidation. 

"K-Kisha...?" Worrisome, the tone of an unsure Crescent is enough to snap Kisha back into reality. He blinks, his pupils dilating suddenly from big to small, instantly retracting his hand and turning his frame with a large breath as if he's trying to control himself. Kisha bites down hard, the muscles in his jaw clenching as he swallows.

"I don't understand. Your eyes... You look at me--"

"Like what?" Kisha's voice suddenly sounds more irritated. He isn't sure who he's upset at.

"Nothing, asshole."

Kisha shoots him a glance as if to say whatever, then he looks forward at the large windshield, his head coming to bang against the back of the seat. The conversation ends awkwardly, but now Kisha's allowed to reflect.

Crescent places both of his hands in his lap, twiddling his fingers. It's so cold, he knows Kisha's upset, but he doesn't know why. What are they doing? He knows nothing about Kisha to call this anything but sexual desire. Hormones run into one another, but this isn't how Crescent wants to start a relationship. There are things about Kisha that he wants to know naturally, and he hopes that Kisha will open up to him and maybe even smile. He turns his head instantly looking out the window as the bus is slowing down again. His view fills with another truck stop, this time smaller than the other one, but a perfect place to get more food.

"I guess this is where we part ways?" Crescent asks without looking back at Kisha, some disappointment kneading in his chest. He doesn't receive an answer, as he hears the other students standing up and grunting. This is common ground for a bunch of young men who seem to enjoy being here. There's a place to fit in even for Ahni. That isn't the same for Crescent. He doesn't like Nirvana Academy. As he can hear the others begin pouring off the bus, he turns to see if Kisha will answer him, but what he sees is no one. 

The seat that was filled has become empty again, cold and Crescent's alone. He sighs. Just like that without even a goodbye. How can anyone let their guard down before someone so... insensitive? 

"They're so rowdy! I can't keep up." The last person to get off the bus, Ahni, decides to plop down in the seat beside Crescent breathing heavily. Ahni holds his heart, looking at Crescent in panic, but the response he gets is a soft gaze and a small smile.

"Glad you're back, Ahni."

"You seem happy." Ahni chirps, looking at his brother whose sleep-deprived features seem to have lifted in spirit. "Oh, by the way, are you hungry? Saikai said if I agree to come to his room tonight to enjoy chocolate, he will give me thirty bucks for my service."

"You're not going Ahni... You don't want that damn candy and no I'm fine. I have something to eat."

Tucked in his cup holder, the yellow wrapper, stained with grease, mayonnaise, and cheese... his chicken sandwich.

Ahni's eyes travel over his brother, noting his hands on his lap.

"Are you hard again?" Ahni's eyebrow raised awkwardly. "Was Kisha here? After that night, man Crescent... I think you're going to end up doing nasty stuff with him. I mean you can't be that easy.... I thought Kisha was disgusted by you. You were telling him to screw you!" Ahni shakes his head in disbelief. He's ashamed of Crescent. His powerful brother looks like a chick every time Kisha comes around. Ahni starts to question Crescent's toughness.

"It's hard to think about, but I believe you're the one taking it--"

"Shut up!" Crescent suddenly yells, his voice spooking the bus driver who looks at the two through the mirror, meeting Ahni's embarrassed wave.

"No..." Ahni sits back in his seat, crossing his arms. He pouts, wanting to get his thoughts across because saying them doesn't make his skin crawl as much. He can never imagine his brother in that light. 

Crescent begins to chuckle.

"Go eat chocolate and see your friends, Ahni. I bet I'm not the only one on the bottom~"

"Huh? My friends are not like you and Kisha." Ahni frowns.

(((A/N

Crescent doesn't know what to do with his feelings. Kisha's more sexually frustrated.

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