3 and/or 45 💖💖💖💖
kiss drabbles !! || @craniumcarrus || accepting! || read on ao3 here
3. A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.45. Kisses exchanged as they move around, hitting the edges of tables or nearly tripping over things on the floor before making it to the sofa, or bed.
pegoryu || 1.5k || T || its just fucking fluff man
They’ve been dancing around it for weeks - probably even months if Akira is honest. Small touches here and there, a hundred evenings spent draped over each other doing anything, but just wanting to spend time with each other. Late night texts that ranged from the completely ridiculous to the utterly soul-baring. On one hand, it’s only natural as best friends, but on the other, there’s always been something charged behind it for them.
And, anyway, it’s been years.
Now they’re in college, Akira managing an apartment to himself that at this point Ryuji practically co-inhabits, not that Akira would ever ask for rent. Ryuji brought over ingredients and made dinner for them before they watched some terrible action movie curled up under the same blanket. They chat through the end credits and don’t even notice when the movie goes quiet, eventually getting up to collect dishes - Akira washes while Ryuji dries, and like every night, Akira thinks that he could get used to this - that he could happily do this every evening for the rest of his life.
Except tonight, there’s something different, something not just charged but sparking and electric. The cheap fluorescent lighting of Akira’s kitchen is obnoxiously yellow and flickers intermittently, but somehow Ryuji still looks like the sun is shining just for him when he smiles at Akira, glowing under the fluorescents, raising his hand for a high five - job well done. They’ve done this exact song and dance hundreds of times, but the way the light flickers when their hands meet makes Akira want to change the moves. The clap sounds, but Akira doesn’t drop his hand, he wraps it there, holding Ryuji’s mid air and oh god it’s completely ridiculous.
For a moment, Ryuji’s mouth goes slack; Akira can practically see a little cartoon question mark pop over his head, but before the mortification can settle in, his smile is back - even brighter - and he’s lacing their fingers together, using the connection to pull Akira towards him into a hug. And just like always, it’s like Akira is meant to fit there, slotted right in Ryuji’s arms, tucking his nose into Ryuji’s neck.
There’s a beat of complete silence - the only sound in the room is the buzzing from the damn kitchen light; they’re not even breathing, before Akira leans back carefully - so carefully. The air itself feels still; the kitchen still smells like the onions Ryuji stir fried for their dinner. Everything is frozen, daring Akira to take a hammer to the still, to shatter their pretense. Their eyes are locked on each other, like they both know what’s coming but it’s like a game of chicken.
Finally, Akira takes a breath and it feels ragged in his throat. His heart is pounding so hard he can hear his pulse in his ears and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, they’ve been hurtling towards this for so long, but it still feels like stepping off a cliff and plummeting towards the water, praying he misses the rocks at the bottom.
One more deep, ragged breath before he utters it like a challenge: “Kiss me.”
There’s one more beat before Ryuji is on him, not bothering with words before one hand is cupping his jaw and the other coming up to card through Akira’s hair the way he loves. There’s a little too much teeth, and their noses squish uncomfortably, and it’s the best kiss of his entire life.
Ryuji pulls back only slightly, eyes still closed, bumping his forehead into Akira’s. “Holy shit, dude, I thought you’d never ask.”
“Don’t call me dude right after kissing me.” There’s no bite to Akira’s voice.
It seems Ryuji opens his eyes again just to roll them with no effect paired with that smile of his. “Holy shit, babe, I thought you’d never ask.” And that - Akira is not prepared for the way a pet name makes his chest tighten.
He finds himself speechless, so instead of trying to come up with something witty he digs his fingers into the front of Ryuji’s hoodie and pulls him in for another kiss. Then a kiss to his nose - then his cheek, then down his jaw and onto his neck, and the sound that pulls out of Ryuji is worth every second of waiting the past three years.
“Shit - Akira - ” Ryuji’s hands run up into his hair again, pulling him back to meet his eyes and oh his pupils are blown wide, the honey brown of his eyes barely a ring.
“Yes, sunshine?” The effect is immediate - Ryuji’s cheeks go impossibly redder as he splutters. “Use your words.” Akira chides, teasing lilt belying any weight to the jab.
Ryuji does not, in fact, use his words. He huffs out a whine, hands flailing a bit as he tries to decide what to do with them. Finally, he manages a pitched up, “For real?”, and the tension between them breaks in a flood as Akira cracks up, head dropping to Ryuji’s shoulder as laughter wracks his frame. He nods, hands winding back around Ryuji in a tight hug and his heart is so, so full.
When he tilts back, Ryuji is considerably more relaxed, eyes gone soft in a way Akira’s seen a million times but he can finally place. This time, his hand caresses Ryuji’s cheek before going in for another, softer, lingering kiss. The angle is considerably better as he deepens the kiss, hand sliding to the back of Ryuji’s head before Akira is moving - unwilling to break the contact but more than ready to not be standing in the kitchen anymore.
He steers them clumsily back towards the bedroom, knocking into the cabinets and saving Ryuji from tripping over a chair. They’re laughing into each other’s lips, kisses landing off center as they went. At some point it’s more like bumping their faces into each other, but that’s magical in its own way too. Finally they hit the bed, Ryuji falling backwards with a small yelp as the backs of his knees hit the edge.
Akira doesn’t leave any room for him to recover, too busy crawling on top of him to straddle his hips and set back to work kissing every inch of Ryuji’s face before returning to his lips. He has a fleeting thought that they should stop - they should talk and find out what this means, but as he comes back up for air, sees Ryuji’s kiss swollen lips and the way it takes him a second to blink his eyes back open, and Akira thinks the conversation can wait.
“Holy shit, dude.” Ryuji’s voice is breathless, and he looks positively star stricken. Akira quirks an eyebrow and Ryuji’s eyes roll once more. “Holy shit, babe,” he corrects, voice petulant, and Akira’s heart squeezes in his chest. I love you, he thinks, thoughts stuttering to a halt as if this is new information.
It’s far from it, but he feels flooded with warmth when he realizes he could say it right now - and Ryuji would get it this time, there would be no questions about exactly what Akira means. But - it isn’t the time. They have all the time in the world now, so for now he leans back down to capture Ryuji’s lips in another devouring kiss. The way Ryuji moans into his mouth is better than he could have ever imagined, and it makes Akira wish they didn’t need to breathe or go to class or go to work or do anything that isn’t making out on his bed.
Eventually, however, the kisses lose their heat - they turn soft and chaste and lingering, and slowly they come to a pause, Akira burying his face in Ryuji’s neck - there’s no way the blond can’t feel the width of his grin pressed into his skin. Everything about him feels light - lighter even than the way he felt in the passenger seat of Sojiro’s car on his way back to Tokyo - his way back home.
“Is this a good time to mention I got feelings for you?” Ryuji breaks the silence first, and Akira can hear the smile in his voice too.
“What a coincidence, I was just about to say the same thing!” Akira rolls to the side and props his head up to face his… boyfriend? Ryuji is still pink, hair mussed, and lips shiny and red. I love you. There it is again, the all encompassing warmth.
A soft, perfect laugh rumbles from Ryuji’s chest as he rolls over to face Akira, mimicking the way his head is propped up. His eyes scan Akira’s face, likely doing the same inventory by the way his lips part just slightly.
“We should go get ice cream.” Ryuji’s voice is chipper and bright, almost seeming to surprise himself.
“We should - what?”
“We should - we didn’t get dessert. And I think we should go get ice cream.” Then, his blush deepends, gaze darting away from Akira’s. “It can - it can be a date.” And oh, Akira’s heart sings at that. So much so that he takes a beat too long to answer, Ryuji about to open his mouth and backtrack before Akira lunges forward to press a quick kiss to his lips.
“That sounds perfect.”
