It was early spring, and the warmth was fading slightly with the passing day. A chill wind whipped itself around the top of the school building, and Fushimi shivered slightly as he pressed himself further against the wall where they were sitting after lunch. He had been watching Yata with increasing curiosity all morning - there was obviously something on the boy's mind but, for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. He watched as Yata bit his bottom lip absently as he inhaled sharply and opened his mouth, as if to speak, then quickly shut his mouth and looked away.
"Is there something bothering you?"
From the outside, their friendship was rather an odd one; why Yata, the hot-headed class loudmouth - easily angered and quick to solve arguments with his fists - decided to make friends with Fushimi, who spent most of his time with his nose in a book ignoring everyone else, no-one could explain. It had been noted, however, that Yata had decreased slightly his propensity to react to any situation explosively, and Fushimi had started to actually look at people when they spoke to him, rather than stare off into the distance over the person's shoulder, so maybe it wasn't a bad thing after all.
"Uhh, w-what do you mean?" Yata stammered, his face flushing bright red as he looked away and tried to find something to fix his concentration on.
Fushimi sighed as he pushed his glasses back up his nose with a finger. "Sorry. It's not my fault that you're about as subtle as a brick." The comment got him a fierce scowl, and he bit back a laugh. Sometimes Yata was like an angry chihuahua, straining at the lead and making lots of noise, despite his height. Or because of it, more likely. It was a rather sore point to touch upon, Fushimi had learnt. "You're cute when you scowl, Misaki-kun."
"Shut up, idiot! Don't use my first name!" Yata growled. "God knows why I thought you'd be able to help anyway..." he muttered as he started rummaging in his school bag for his console.
Help. Was Yata in trouble? A strange feeling stirred inside of him, and Fushimi paused for a moment. Was this worry? Concern? He gave a wry smile - maybe it was just the after-effects of lunch.
"Sorry, Yata-kun," Fushimi said as he leant in close. "Is there something I can help you with?"
Yata jumped in surprise from the sudden invasion of personal space, then shrank back, self-consciously. "No... I mean, I don't know... I just..." He looked everywhere apart from in front of him, obviously uncomfortable.
"Out with it," Fushimi said, as he moved in closer. He was going to get it out of him no matter what, now his interest was piqued.
Yata put up a brief fight, then decided it wasn't going to work. He slumped back down and ran his fingers through his unruly hair. "It's nothing, really, just... Have you ever, y'know..." he trailed off.
Fushimi rolled his eyes. "I have no idea what you're on about." He did, in fact, have a pretty good idea what Yata was on about, but he wasn't about to go and make it easier for him. Plus he quite enjoyed watching him squirm about like this, all flushed and embarrassed. "Out with it now."
"Fine," Yata said, and then sighed. "I was just... Have you ever kissed anyone, Fushimi-san?" The question came out in a rush, as though saying it quickly would make it less embarrassing.
Bingo. Fushimi had thought it would be something like this - the kid would happily take on half a dozen seniors in a fight, but ask him anything to do with his feelings and he'd run a mile. It was kind of cute, in an annoying way. Bit like Yata in general, he mused.
"Are you still worrying about things like that?" he asked as he shook his head. "You should think less and act more. Actually," Fushimi paused, his face suddenly serious. "It might not be a good idea for you to think even less than you already do." Yata scowled at him in response and he sighed. "Are you really that worried about it?"
"Aren't you?" Yata shot back, on the defensive.
"Not really," he said feigning disinterest as he fixed his glasses again as he went to look in his bag for his textbook. Fushimi was suddenly aware of the silence between them, and smiled inwardly.
"It you're that worried about it, you should practice." he said, looking up. Yata looked confused.
"How the hell am I meant to practice if I've no-one to practice with?" he said, irritated.
"You can practice with me," Fushimi said with a half-smile.
Yata looked at him, surprised. "W-why would I practice with you?" he stammered, taken aback at the rather unexpected response.
Fushimi shrugged and reached back into his bag. "Well, if you don't want to learn..."
"I never said that!" Yata shot back, his face taking on a familiar crimson hue. "It's just..." he trailed off and looked away, his fingers nervously fiddling with the strap of his bag, trying to think of something to say.
"Come over here," Fushimi said, and Yata lifted his head at his voice. "Come on!" His voice left no room for disagreement.
Yata stood up and made his way over to Fushimi, standing awkwardly as he reached the other boy.
"Now, sit down," Fushimi ordered, and Yata went to sit on the floor. "Tch! Not like that - how would you sit with a woman?"
"How should I fucking know?" Yata stammered, his face bright red now, and Fushimi rolled his eyes.
"Come here," he said as he reached up to grab Yata by the hips, pulling him down in an easy motion that left the kid straddling his hips in a manner that wasn't entirely unpleasant. Yata cried out in surprise as he was dragged down and positioned over Fushimi's lap.
"Shut up," Fushimi said. "You want to learn, yes?"
Yata opened his mouth, as if to reply, then looked away and shifted slightly to make himself more comfortable and looked at Fushimi awkwardly.
"Ok, now kiss me."
"What?" Yata squeaked, as he felt strong hands grip his hips.
"I said, kiss me. Imagine I'm whatever hot girl you fancy right now. Close your eyes if you have to."
Yata hesitated. He didn't really fancy anyone at the moment, but he closed his eyes anyway. Screwing his face up, he tried to think of someone - anyone - but the first face that came to mind was Fushimi. Not as he was at that point, but in the past - the look on his face when he was bored in class and came up with some terrible idea that would get them both into trouble. The way he always had Yata's back in a fight, despite the fact he was a terrible fighter and usually ended up worse than Yata, even when he had nothing to do with the disagreement. The fact that, despite the way everyone else treated him, Fushimi had always been by his side.
Fushimi watched the emotions playing out on Yata's face. It took all the strength he had not to just lean forwards to grasp his face and bring their mouths together. It was like playing with a wild animal - one false move and Yata would take flight, their moment gone - so he waited and watched, fascinated, as Yata move closer to him, hands reaching out almost without consciousness, to reach his shoulders and, unbelievably, lean down to bring their lips together. Fushimi felt Yata stiffen in surprise, but refused to let the moment pass by. He reached up to cradle Yata's head in his hands and brought them together for that last inch.
Their lips met, and Yata felt strong hands support him. Throwing caution to the wind, he face the situation head on, and moved in closer. He felt Fushimi's shock run through his body, which only emboldened him. Pressing forwards, he opened his mouth to let his tongue through, then promptly realised he had no idea what to do with it, but before the thought had even run its course he felt Fushimi's tongue slide alongside his. It felt weird - and a bit gross, if he was honest - but for some reason he didn't want to stop. Still with his eyes closed, Yata copied Fushimi's movements, alternating between sliding their tongues together with shorter, quicker movements. He started feeling weird, as though dizzy and hot, but still he continued. Somewhere along the line he had lifted himself up on his knees, so that he was taller than Fushimi, and he felt himself angle downwards into the kiss, taking control and dominating, heat rising within him as he lost himself to it.
Fushimi had been surprised enough at Yata's determination as he moved in for the kiss, but nothing could have prepared him for the force behind it. If he didn't know better, he would have thought it was real, that the kiss was meant for him, that the subtle shift in Yata's hips were deliberate, that the soft gasps into his mouth were true - but he knew better. He didn't know who the kid was thinking about, but he felt envious and small in the shadow of them. He could never live up to this shadow-person, could never be this goal, but he didn't mind. He was happy being second-best to this person. At least, that was what he tried to convince himself of as Yata continued to take everything from him.
The message finally got to Yata's brain that the oxygen levels were getting oh-so-slightly depleted, and if they didn't get a top-up soon there might be some serious damage. Reluctantly, he began to pull away, each retreating movement countered with an attacking one, as each intake of air was shut off. Eventually, basic instinct took over and, with a shove to the chest, Yata uncoupled himself from Fushimi and sat back on his heels, breathing hard, still straddling the other's hips as he looked up.
Fushimi still hadn't collected his thoughts entirely when Yata pulled back and made eye contact. He hadn't been ready for the assault on the senses which the kiss had brought forwards, so he went into automatic.
"Well, your technique needs a bit of polishing..."
"Shut up, Saru!" Yata countered, and went to shove Fushimi harder, and blinked as he caught his fist easily.
"I never said it was terrible," Fushimi replied, quietly, and Yata froze for a moment, then dropped his arm.
There was no way Yata could tell his friend that it was him that had filled his mind during the kiss. That it was no-one elses hands on him, no-one elses tongue invading him, no-one elses body underneath him... He shook his head to clear his thoughts.
"Regretting your practice?" Fushimi's voice was bored as he moved sideways to grab his school bag. Yata took what he assumed to be a hint and stood up, stretching his leg which had cramped as he'd sat down.
"No," he answered, defiantly, and opened his mouth to say more when he was saved by the class bell. "Ugh," he swore as he hoisted the bag onto his shoulder and made his way to the door back to the stairwell. As he reached out to open it, he felt a presence behind him.
"You know, you should never forget your first kiss," Fushimi said as he pushed past Yata and disappeared down the stairs.
After all, I never will.