Hornetshipping + 43?
yass now that i actually have a moment to sit down and write this we will most def be doing some kissing B) also this was much much longer than i intended but its okay i cant help myself with these two
—
#43: a kiss out of greed
Bastion had never been much of a movie person. It seemed as if every time he sat down for some mindless entertainment he would find himself picking apart every plot hole, character, the cinematography, dialogue–essentially everything. Rather than work himself up into a frenzy, Bastion had abstained from movies for as long as he could remember, but when Chazz had thrown down his textbook, angrily shut his laptop, and demanded they take a break he couldn’t say no.
It was finals week at Duel Academy, and Chazz had shown up at the Ra yellow dorm with a scowl and a latte, saying that he couldn’t study at the Slifer dorm. Bastion, who could imagine that studying with Jaden Yuki had to be more of him trying to find ways to distract others than actual studying, had opened the door for him, heart beating out of his chest as the object of his affections sat down on his bed.
Bastion had no idea Chazz even considered him as more than the person responsible for his demotion from Obelisk, the catalyst for his leaving Duel Academy halfway through the semester. They had never been alone together before, the two of them usually accompanied by Jaden or Syrus or Alexis, and Bastion had always assumed the black-haired boy had held a bit of resentment toward him. That, of course, didn’t stop him from falling head over heels for the boy–Bastion loved his sarcasm, the smirk he got on his face when he was about to obliterate his opponent in a duel, the way his eyes would soften the slightest bit when Pharaoh would rub his head against his legs, even the way he’d drench his fried shrimp in soy sauce to the point it was no longer recognizable. It was all enough to bring a blush to his face, a surge of affection for the other man that he suppressed only because he was certain Chazz didn’t return the sentiment.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Bastion stopped halfway through sitting down in his desk chair, stuck in an awkward position as he looked over toward Chazz. “Um, I’m sitting?”
“Just sit next to me. You can’t see the television from there,” Chazz ordered, eyes flickering from Bastion back to the TV, scrolling through Netflix. “This is your bed, anyway,”
“Oh, yes of course,” Bastion said, trying not to skip over to the bed. Sitting down next to Chazz, he tried to act normal, not like the butterflies in his stomach were threatening to come out of his mouth.
“Do you care what we watch?”
“Oh, um, no, I don’t suppose I do,”
Chazz made a noncommittal noise, not looking at the Ra as he selected a movie, getting up to–oh god he was turning off the lights. Bastion had never interpreted darkness as romantic before, but his imagination was in overdrive as Chazz sat down on the bed, leaning back against the pillows, pale skin illuminated by the light of the screen. Chazz’s elbow was grazing his, but Bastion refused to interpret it as anything. He turned his attention to the screen and tried to focus.
To his credit, he kept his commentary to himself. Chazz would snort or groan at the more unbelievable parts of the film, but remained silent for the most part. Their elbows kept brushing every time they shifted, and Bastion was hypersensitive to the contact, his skin tingling long after the brief touch had passed.
He couldn’t, wouldn’t, read into this. It was nothing. Just two guys sitting in a dark room on a bed–
Bastion’s inner monologue was interrupted as Chazz shifted, his arm from shoulder to elbow pressing against Bastion’s side. He tensed, surprised and excited, torn between leaning back in to the touch and fainting from the rush of blood to his head.
“You alright?” Chazz asked, still not looking at him but not moving, arm still pressed firmly against Bastion.
“Oh, um, yes,” Bastion wished he hadn’t stuttered and sounded more sure of himself. The tone of his voice alone probably gave away the fact he was lying.
Chazz didn’t say anything else. The movie faded to the background as Bastion’s head filled with thoughts of Chazz (moreso than usual that is), allowing himself to venture in to the realm of touch carrying a deeper meaning. Chazz wasn’t a touchy person, not like Jaden or Syrus that were either touching each other or touching someone else, physical affection abundant in their dorm room. This was The Chazz. The Chazz did not touch.
If that were true, though, why was The Chazz’s leg touching his now?
Bastion struggled to keep his breathing even as he realized Chazz was pressed against him from shoulder to ankle. His stomach twisted, heat fluttering–this was intentional, it had to be. Had Chazz set this up? Did Chazz know about his crush?
His rational mind told him to scoot over, but it was drowned out by this all-consuming, irresistible urge to have more. Just this bit of contact had him wanting to wrap his arms around the other boy and never let go, to feel every bit of his skin. He didn’t know if this meant Chazz reciprocated his feelings, but it didn’t matter. He wanted him closer, wanted more of him for the selfish desires of his own satisfaction.
And in that moment he decided he was going to take it.
“Chazz,” Bastion rasped out, feeling like his throat had suddenly dried and been replaced with sandpaper.
The black-haired boy turned to face him, grey eyes glinting in the light from the television. Bastion, delirious from the heat rushing to his head and how fast his heart was beating, leaned forward, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t nerve, and pressed his lips against Chazz’s.
It was exquisite–Chazz’s lips were warm, soft, his bangs tickling Bastion’s forehead. Bastion knew he should pull back–he’d already gone too far, Chazz would surely be furious–but he couldn’t. This was everything he’d ever wanted and he wanted, no needed more.
Hand reaching up to touch Chazz’s face, feeling that perfect soft skin that he’d always seen in the wading pool but had never been able to touch, he moved his lips against the black-haired boy’s, hungrily, desperately.
He nearly convulsed when he felt Chazz’s lips moving, mouth parting and a soft rumble coming from his throat, his hand resting on top of Bastion’s.
Feeling Chazz’s mouth open, Bastion’s desire only increased, wanting to taste the black-haired boy–he flicked his tongue into the other’s mouth, feeling Chazz’s tongue slide against his, the taste of coffee mixing with the taste of Chazz, and Bastion was absolutely drunk on it. There had to be a way to get closer, get more because he wanted everything from this kiss, wanted all of Chazz, and never wanted to stop.
Bastion felt hands on his chest pushing him back, his heart sinking as he realized that Chazz was pushing him away.
He fucked up, he–
“We have to breathe, Bas,” Chazz panted, his voice also hoarse, barely above a whisper.
Oh. Bastion had forgotten about that minor detail.
“But once I catch my breath,” Chazz’s nose brushed against his. “Kiss me again, okay?”
Bastion’s heart leapt. “O-of course I will,”
Chazz smiled. An honest-to-god smile, brightening his face and crinkling his eyes.
Bastion decided he was definitely a movie person now.