...was Eo, plain Eo, in the morning, standing five feet eleven in one sock. He was Eu Ot Mortus in slacks. He was Champion Eo at school. He was Eo Ut Mortus on the dotted line. But in Cicada's dreams, he was always Prince Eo.

He wasn't sure about how it started. One day, he was an indistinguishable, faceless student, several grades above, a name oft-said on presentation nights, a name to be read on plaques in the trophy room. Next day, he was Eo, the student with a face—a swarthy, chiselled, enigmatic face –, a face to haunt dreams, a face to be imagined on damp pillows at 2 AM. In truth, Cicada's obsession started off slowly, but, as first loves do, it escalated to Edward Cullen levels, all this while Eo knew not of the humble freshman at Smogon High School. Cicada was a recent arrival, the new kid—he spoke awkward, often overly formal English that made his peers laugh, having just arrived from a far-off Arabic nation.

Cicada had spied the boy in question idling near the UU block, his tall, lanky body splayed across the brick wall. He seemed at ease, and there was a certain charm to the composition of his person—something quite attractive in its awkward, teenager-like ill fit. It struck Cicada that this particular student was particularly cute, and something in his face seemed drawn and mysterious. It was this that ignited the first stage, curiosity.

While Eo whistled, hands in pockets, expression closed, Cicada watched from the shadows of the locker room. There was something about Eo that suggested to him leagues of untold knowledge, and the lonely boy had a sudden urge to be closer to him. Perhaps it was Eo's natural charisma, or perhaps it was a projection of fantasies—I leave this to my reader to ascertain, but let it not cloud your belief in Cicada's fairytale-like adoration.

Lunchtimes blended into lunchtimes, and Cicada was always observing. It was Eo's helpfulness to younger students, fixing their essays and instructing them in the written arts, that tugged at Cicada's heartstrings most, and it was from here the first seeds of his Idea spawn. Well, to say it was solely his idea would be not giving the credit due to Great Sage, the student counsellor.

Cicada did not divulge the true depths of his growing puppy love for Eo, of course, as such would be inappropriate. He did express his wish to get to know Eo, and on one occasion, as he sipped tea in the counsellor's office, he made an idle remark.

'I wish I was better in C5C,' Cicada said ruefully. 'Results are terrible, and the teachers keep discarding my analyses. Whatever shall I do?'

'Hmmm,' said the young counsellor, blowing on his tea and stroking his stubbly chin. 'It seems to me you need a mentor.'

Cicada pulled out his dictionary and looked up mentor. Upon reading the definition, he perked up. 'Sir, would you help me?'

The Sage stiffened; this subtle movement betrayed that he was not very enthusiastic about the prospect. But Cicada was too oblivious, and so he simply accepted GS's fateful response: 'I shall see what I can do about finding you a tutor, Cicada.'

That night, Cicada lay abed, listening to his kindred chirp in the sultry summer night. The air was thick and moist, like the sweat generated by Cicada's lust for his senior. He tossed and turned, both mind and body. The softness of the pillow was the softness of Eo's lips; the warmth of the night was the warmth of Eo's swarthy skin; the darkness of the night was the darkness of Eo's beckoning eyes. The School Prince, adored by girls, boys, and teachers alike, was there with him, his body pressed close, and Cicada fell asleep softly, not knowing how close Eo really was. Figuratively, of course—my allusion to Twilight was innocently intended.

The message from Great Sage came, and the thrills it caused Cicada were like fireworks lighting up the sky. His hummingbird heart was thrumming in a combnation of excitement and nerves. Was it a mere coincidence, or something more, la forza del destino at play?

I am assigning Eo Ut Mortus to be your C&C mentor. You may ask him any questions you wish. Eo is sometimes grumpy, so don't lose heart. You may not reply to this message, refer Eo to this message, or allow Eo to redirect you to anyone else.

At first, he couldn't believe his eyes. He gripped the paper tightly in his hands and read it over and over, shocked. There was one problem—Cicada had already lost heart. Namely, he had surrendered it to Eo. And now it was time for them to consummate the tension between them. Figuratively speaking, of course...

At lunchtime, Cicada hurried to the library, having made especial effort in presentation. He opened the door, and as he sauntered in, he tried his very best to exhibit Super Saiyan Swagger. But time ticked past ever so slowly and monotonously, and Cicada's dream-like thrill slowly gave way to a lead-like certainty that he had been stood up by his Prince!

Come the bell, Cicada knew that Eo had let him down, and so he hurried on not to his class but instead to the study hall, where he had deduced (using some wily and possibly illict tactics) that Eo would be heading for study period. His deduction, showing some particularly rare intelligence, turned out to be correct, and the boy was engrossed in a Policy Review transcript when Cicada tapped him (not without nervousness, and also fear that one of the Prince's avid fangirls would turn up and accost him) on the shoulder.

'Yes?' Eo said, and then he turned and saw Cicada earnestly standing before him.

'Hello, sir,' said Cicada hastily. 'You are assigned to be my C5C mentor, and I have many of questions.' Not least why did you never come to me, my sweet Prince Eo? That was just one of them, although the raw thought itself was in much more broken English.

Eo's jaw dropped and swarthy face darkened (even more). He had thought that GS was playing a prank upon him, perhaps, and the flabbergasted prince took a moment to formulate a response, all the while as Cicada gazed up at him.

'I am awaiting a reply,' urged Cicada.

'I am sorry, but this must have been a mistake,' said Eo, with as much regal dignity as he could muster. 'I believe you were assigned to whistle.'

Cicada's heart shattered right there at the cruel trick that fate had played upon him, and he could not say anything as he slowly walked away. Tears were pricking at his eyes, and so he took a natural detour to visit Great Sage.

'Whatever is the matter?' said Great Sage, annoyed at being disturbed from his copy of Pelipper Weekly.

So Cicada explained, and Great Sage assumed a grave expression. 'Remember what I told you. Eo is crafty and will try to redirect you. Just keep talking to him, and he'll come around eventually. Don't tell him about this instruction; just make a mental note.'

So it was a much heartened Cicada who returned to Eo, but Eo disdainfully ignored him. He did not deign to even look up from his transcript, though Cicada kept a vigil for what felt like an era, occasionally reminding him that he was awaiting a reply. But at last the period ended and he could wait no longer, and so he tramped back to the counsellor's office.

'Bunnies,' advised Great Sage distractedly. 'He likes bunnies.'

Cicada tried a more indirect tactic this time; perhaps Eo was just shy? And thus begun a correspondence (one-way, sadly), a flurry of letters delivered with care to Eo's locker.

Hello? I am awaiting a reply.

–

I know my last message was received When is my mentor going to start?

–

Why don't you write?

'Bunnies. He likes bunnies,' Cicada echoed, now frustrated with Eo's silent treatment. Surely Eo was “treating him mean to keep him keen”, as Great Sage suggested, but that did not justify being ignored! If Cicada did not feel so strongly for his Prince, he would've been hopping mad.

Hopping mad...

The next letter came enclosed with a picture of Cicada's uncle's bunnies, white and fluffy, and one of Cicada's prized possessions. He was loath to part with it, and too stupid to copy it, but the situation called for it, so he slipped in a picture of Eo half-dressed and more than half-drunk, cavorting wildly in his bedroom to Lady Gaga.

Meet me at the bunny farm, or I will put this photo on the internet.

Cicada was there at the time written on the back of the bunny photo, and so was Eo. Eo looked quite furious, and Cicada understood what GS meant by grumpy.

'Surrender the photos,' ordered Eo. 'You've been harassing me non-stop; I won't stand for it, and surely whistle is wondering what became of his tutee.'

Cicada (somehow) remembered GS's instructions. 'It is not a mistake, I find. Sir, I want to be good in C5C like you. Please, you cannot ignore me for always.'

Eo shifted imperceptibly as he leaned back on the wooden fence. The dying afternoon glow glinted off his dark hair, and though his swarthy face was veiled by the shadows, even Cicada could tell Eo was deep in thought.

'Why the bunny farm?' said Eo abruptly.

Cicada was taken aback, but answered earnestly, 'You like bunnies. I want to please you, sir.'

Eo's mouth dropped, but then he saw that Cicada was still holding the photograph, and he thought better of making his horrified comment. 'Very well. We shall look at the bunnies,' he said submissively, hoping to knock the photo out of Cicada's hand while the younger student was distracted. Sacrifices would have to be made.

So Cicada drew a deep breath, steeled himself, and took Eo's clammy hand; he could hear Eo's heart beat like an 808 drum, and flattered himself that his Prince Charming mayhaps be charmed by his earnest desire to become closer to him. Eo walked very slowly, shivering a bit, and Cicada offered Eo his coat, apparently not noticing his lack of alacrity.

'The night come,' he said.

Eo did not want to appear rude around such a threat, preferring to handle the situation delicately, so he mutely shrugged the coat on and nodded his thanks. He made a mental note to have his shirt cleaned extra thoroughly, however.

So in the sunset hours, Cicada took Eo to the first hutch. 'White bunny, very fluffy. They like to make friends very much. They will like you, sir.'

Eo noticed that Cicada's grip had slackened a bit on the photograph. He closed his eyes and willed himself to survive the next minute—then, everything would be righted, and he would have his #1 cheerleader, Folgorio, execute Great Sage behind the Ubers block. Figuratively, of course, though the literal route was tempting as well.

To cut a long explanation short, Eo overestimated himself. His eyes fell upon the bunnies; oh, they were monstrously cute! Fluffy beings, with eerie red eyes and perky ears. The ensuing shriek rent the sound barrier, and all thoughts of the photograph were abandoned. Eo turned and ran from his #1 fear and clutched the fence, hyperventilating and shaking.

Cicada dropped the photograph and followed Eo; he was not particularly fit, but he had lost a lot of weight during Ramadan. He impulsively wrapped his arms around the prince.

'What is wrong?' he breathed in Eo's most swarthy ear.

Eo choked on a sob in response. 'Bunnies. I don't like bunnies. Don't. Like. Bunnies.' He sounded like a toddler who had had a nightmare, and indeed, one could say he had regressed to a similar mentality.

'I sorry. Did not know,' Cicada apologised. He knew not how to comfort his prince, who appeared to be made of ice; but the ice had melted, and to his shock, crystalline tears were shedding like tiny diamonds of bunny fur from Eo's brimming eyes.

When Cicada was young, his mother had comforted him in a certain way, and Cicada decided to apply this to Eo. Tentatively, the swain held the prince, rocking slightly and stroking his hair. 'They not hurt you. They are locked in the cage. It is okay. Prince Eo is okay.'

After his tears had subsided, Eo felt much more contrite, and he turned to Cicada and gazed upon him as if for the first time, all resentment shed. Cicada was not very handsome, nor was he very smart, both things that the swarthy prince could lay claim to, but his empathy beatified him, and Eo felt something more than gratitude secretly blossom in his heart. He offered to tutor Cicada, and it was a done deal; Eo picked up the photo on the way out and incinerated it, and it was never thought of again, for Cicada had something far better than a picture close by.

Weeks passed, and Cicada and Eo grew close during their tutoring sessions. Cicada felt genuine adoration for his tsundere prince, and Eo found that, despite Cicada's ignorance and foolishness, his unconditional love was warming. Occasionally, Cicada would make awkward attempts to flirt in broken English, and Eo would laugh it off, but the night that Cicada visited his dreams and kissed him—oh, it was beautiful—made him realise that perhaps it was not a joke.

Come Valentine's Day, Eo had indulged many a boner over his protégé, and a number of tearjerking LGBT support meetings had reconciled him with his very homoerotic emotions towards Cicada. Cicada's had grown stronger than ever, coloured by gratitude, sympathy, and admiration, but tl;dr they were scared of admitting it to each other. The tension was thick in the air, made their skin hum, but still they danced around their elephantine emotions.

One day, Valentine's in fact, Cicada was not at the library at the scheduled time; Eo presumed he was sick, since Cicada was very studious, and carefully, following a YouTube tutorial, made him some chicken soup. It was a humble and shy prince who slipped into Cicada's house, ascended the stairs, and knocked on the bedroom.

There came no answer, and Eo supposed he was sleeping. He carefully opened the door, resolving to leave the soup in a thermos, and Cicada was–

–not there. Neither was his bed, nor his belongings, and it occurred to Eo that the house was barren as well, though he had not noticed at first.

'Well, he must have moved,' said Eo, frowning, and he left for the train station to return home, wondering why Cicada hadn't bothered to let him know.

La forza del destino. Quite disheartened, Eo stood by himself at the end of the station, casting an impressive and equally swarthy shadow from his graceful figure. He felt quite odd, as the behaviour of Cicada was kinda unnatural, mainly since Cicada felt the need to give him a Twitter feed every time they spoke, as per his circadian rhythms. Unsettling, even.

'Prince Eo! Prince Eo!'

Eo turned instinctively, and lo and behold, Cicada was running towards him, face flushed and sweating.

'How did you know to come, Prince Eo? Oh, Prince!' Cicada cried, engulfing him in an overly forward, relieved bear hug.

'Cicada?' answered Eo, shocked, but his voice was muffled by Cicada's shoulder, against which his head was nestling.

'Prince Eo, they are sending me back to the Republic of Islam! Please! I do not want to leave!'

Eo felt his heart still momentarily.

'Make them stop! Please!' begged Cicada.

His heartbeat resumed.

'I am the Prince of Smogon, UU, and all of Missouri,' declared Eo, 'and for as long as I stand tall, they shall not deport you! My love, I can never—'

He realised his Freudian slip and his swarthy face instantly flushed. Cicada heard, and the moment was temporarily tense. Then suddenly it was Cicada everywhere. Everything was Cicada, and Cicada was everything. The softness of his lips crushing into his passionately. The gentle rhythms of his moans that filled Eo's ears. The feel of his hands roaming his body—the faint manly scent emanating from his skin—his sweat, his urgency, his desires. In reckless abandon, Cicada consumed him, and he consumed Cicada, and the world was only Cicada, for everything else had become immaterial. Cicada filled his sensations, and Eo surrendered to his feelings with no inhibitions, no reservations, and no qualms, pausing only to whisper in heated romance, 'I am so glad that whistle didn't get to you first!'