Gakuen!Bad Touch Trio x Reader - Untitled

Prologue

You let out an audible sigh, slumping forward onto your desk. Your eyelids felt like they were made of lead, you just wanted to go back to sleep so badly right now. Your teacher was boring on incessantly about some subject that you couldn't be bothered to learn. You let your eyes fall closed; you'd never need to know how to find the square root of six million and whatever anyway.

Your grades were fine; in fact, you were an excellent student most of the time, which is why you usually got away with dozing off on the rare occasions that you did. Like today for example, you were exhausted from a long night with Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis. You had been up almost ALL night after all.

You had been playing video games with your three best friends, or as they were more widely known as, the bad touch trio. Once you started to play games with them, you just couldn't stop. For some ungodly reason, you'd been up until 2:30 in the morning. Apparently at any point after 1:00 AM, the AI director of your game turned into an asshole.

Just as you had begun to drift off, you were called back into the realm of consciousness by the loud, reverberating ring of the bell, alerting you that class was now over. You had grabbed your stuff and were up and out of your seat before you could say "Awww, Hell Yes."

---

Lunch, by far, was your best subject. After all, there was only one way to fail lunch, and that was to not eat at all.  Eating wasn't usually a problem for you; what with your international lunch mates. You could always assemble something tasty and European. You supposed that going to an international high school had it's perks too.

Today your choices were; a salty, grilled Wurst from Gilbert, or maybe some of Antonio's famous Paella, or perhaps even some of Francis' food, which had a name that was far too long and complicated for you to be able to pronounce it. If memory served, it roughly translated to something along the lines of "Happy, Jumpy, Crispy, Green, Man Legs." (You could only assume that they were frog legs.)

You settled on having a little taste of everyone's lunch. However, you were a quickly put off of eating when you noticed that Gilbert was eating like a hog. To you it was both fascinating, and just a little bit endearing. Francis and Antonio watched in horror, taking dainty bites and wiping at their faces after each, as if they were afraid to look like they knew the albino.

"Mi Amigo, your lunch isn't going to go anywhere." Antonio said with a forced smile. He looked truly disturbed by the scene that was playing out before him. "You have an hour; you don't have to eat so fast. If you're not careful, you're going to choke on it..."

"I don't have time to slow down." Gilbert replied through a mouthful, sending bits of partially chewed food flying down to the tabletop. Oh god, so Gross. You groaned and hid your eyes behind your hand, maybe his eating habits WEREN'T so endearing. "I'm too busy being awesome."

"Dude, it's so not awesome of you to spit food at me. Please stop eating like you're an ape." You sighed, glancing up at him with a weary look on your face. He frowned, seeming genuinely hurt. He set down his fork, and you presumed that this would be the beginning of his usual lecture about scolding the "Most Awesome Gilbert". He merely rolled his eyes at you dramatically and chose instead to move onto an entirely different subject.

"So, are you going to homecoming this Friday?" He asked, raising one of his silver eyebrows at you.

"Homecoming…? You mean that silly American Football thing?" You asked, cocking you head slightly. You didn't figure that he would be into that kind of stuff. "Nah, it just doesn't really appeal to me." You shrugged; sports were kind of boring if you were just going by yourself.

Francis nearly choked on the food that he was trying to swallow.

"You mean to say that you've NEVER BEEN?" He asked incredulously. You shook your head, furrowing your eyebrows at him. It was a little weird to hear the European young men discussing the American sport.  "_____, It's only like... one of the biggest extracurricular events during the school year!" He said, his accent becoming much thicker in his excitement. He bounced in his seat giddily, his blue eyes lighting up in delight. You knew this would inevitably prompt a long explanation from the three.

"What all goes on?" You asked, trying to get them to just get to the point already. You rested you head on your hand, leaning on the table, rolling your eyes. Without a doubt you looked extremely bored.

"Well, let's see… There's an American Football game, and there's usually a pep rally beforehand." Go figure. Sports things were involved with this game. You really weren't a big sports fan, and pep rallies were far too loud. "--No one really goes for the game though; it's mostly just to hang out with other people. I can't say I understand the appeal of a bunch of buffed out bulls for men ramming into each other either, but it's nice to be a part of the crowd." Francis veered off topic suddenly. It was hard to tell if it was literally because he just wanted to hear himself talk.

"Si, but the most important part is the dance, Chica!" Antonio added. His tan cheeks got such cute dimples when he smiled. "You get to come and dance and you can dress up and it's just a whole lot of fun!" You rolled your eyes again; dances weren't a big deal like they had been in middle school. You didn't have anyone to go with anyways.

"I don't think I'll go. I don't even know how to dance..." You replied, laying your head down onto the lunch table.

"Would you want to go more if you were going with me, mon cherie?" Francis asked, leaning over and meeting your eyes. He had a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"No Francis, that really wouldn't make me want to go more..." You lied, knowing that you would probably be more motivated to go if you had a date.

"Chica, you can't just not go, surely we'll be so lonely without your company!"  The Spaniard whined, putting on a sullen face. You shook your head for what must have been the thousandth time. He pouted for a moment longer, then, unable to keep up the charade, he gave you another charming smile.

"_____..." You glanced up at Gilbert just in time to hear your name roll off of his tongue in his exotic accent. He seemed kind of heartbroken and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. You could tell that he was trying not to look upset, but those pretty crimson eyes of his always gave him away. "Please? This is our last year to go to any of the games, and I haven't gotten to drag you to the concession stand to get hot chocolate with the awesome me yet… I wanted to have some more fun with you before we graduate." You blushed a bit, feeling kind of flattered that the narcissist was stooping to your level. "So… please go?"

You replied with nothing more than a sigh, giving him your lazy look, hoping he'd understand it. He looked crushed.

Damn it, you were going to wind up going to that game, weren't you?

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeease?"

"Gil, don't you pull that 'please' crap on me. It's not going to work."

"Bitte?"

"Gilbert."

"Por favor?"

"S'il te plait?"

Oh jeeze, you were just going to get hammered with this whole homecoming thing, weren't you?

"Guys… stop."

"Pleeeeeeeeease?" They said in near perfect harmony. You let out an exhausted sigh, rubbing your temples and sitting back up in your seat.

"Alright, fine. I'll go." You finally yielded. There was uproar of cheers from the three of them, and before you knew it you had a ticket shoved in your hand.

"We already bought you a ticket." Gilbert said with a hearty laugh. They had it all planned from the beginning!

"You guys are assholes." You sighed, feeling a smile creep onto your face. They were so sure of themselves sometimes, but you were glad that it was at least because they'd wanted for you to spend time with them.

"Awe, I think that this calls for a group hug." Francis purposed. The three of them looked at each other with wry smiles as your eyes widened.

"No. Guys, just n--" Before you could protest any further, you were drawn into a tight hug, literally being crushed between the warm bodies of the three young men. You could scarcely breathe.

"You guys… are asses." You muttered the only words that you could muster.

---

The rest of lunch was spent discussing how they would help to "prepare" you for homecoming. They divided the work between the three of them, and you just agreed to it all. It was much easier than trying to argue with them over it. They were so stubborn, and since the three of them were in cahoots, it wasn't likely you'd win. Francis would find you something to wear, Antonio was in charge of teaching you to dance, and Gilbert was your ride to the game.

What had you gotten yourself into?

To be continued…