anastolii: [x]
very few things can catch hajime’s attention. flirting goes over his head. people breach his personal space all the time. but kisses are something that even hajime can understand. immediately, he pulls back, allowing only the slightest brush of breath and lips. his green eyes widen, frantic and frenzied, searching for answers as his hand covers his mouth to block any further advances and to hide his frenetic breathing.
his face is beet-red, he’s sure of it. he’s never quite thought about kissing another guy before, but he would never have imagined that it would happen quite like this. he’s thought about kissing chiaki before; sometimes she gets really close to him and he thinks about it, but he’s never really wanted to. other than that, he can’t really think of an instance when…
but that’s not important. what’s important is that there’s someone in front of him who needs to hear something, though hajime has no idea what that something is.
carefully, he removes his hand from his mouth, though his face is still flushed. “makoto…”
It’s only when Hajime separates from Naegi that the lucky student has realized what he’s actually done—what he’s actually done. This wasn’t a dream, or some kind of waking fantasy... no, he had actually somehow mustered up the courage ( or was it stupidity? ) to actually go and kiss his upperclassman.
He thought he was able to control situations like this. He thought he had a good hold on his desires—at least, enough to keep things civil—and he doesn’t want to think that there’s a chance that he might be wrong.
So, Naegi works to control his breathing, works to get the taste of Hajime’s mouth out of his mind. Hazel eyes survey the other’s expression, and they don’t like what they see.
“I... I’m sorry, Hinata-senpai,” he stammers, his voice coming out more hoarse than he would have liked. His eyes flit down to the other’s lips—oh, how great it would be to taste them again—but he quickly tears them away. “I don’t know what came over me...”








