promuseboxing | [K PROJECT POST]

I don't care. [ Because he doesn't, and nothing Misaki says is going to make him change his mind now. Fushimi has said it; they're actual words rather than just idle thoughts. He purses his lips before leaning down to press their noses together. ] I will never think of anyone else that way. I won't betray you or your feelings, Misaki.

[ The last part is a whisper, afraid to say it any louder. When Fushimi takes a breath, it's to steel his nerves before he kisses him. A short but firm touch of lips. ]

[ And that. Was his first kiss, the first one and possibly the only one that mattered. It was a little scary, realizing that this had been hiding in his best friend. He didn't know what to do, if he was supposed to do something with his mouth or his hands or even if he was supposed to close his eyes. ]

[ Had he done it wrong? All of Fushimi's research had indicated that kissing usually sealed the deal. Misaki is his, and he is Misaki's. He draws back a little to look at him, ignoring the fact that the other manga is digging into his side as he sits there. Fushimi pokes at his cheek. ]

Did your brain die, Mi-sa-ki? [ A short smile, glancing down between them. ] There are some things we can try since we're dating now.

[ There is a moment of being dazed, not realizing what just happened. But then what Saru says hits him. Dating?! Before he can stop himself he ends up blurting the worst possible thing. ]

W-who said we were dating?

[ His jaw clenches at the question, turning away so he isn't looking at him. Admittedly, it hurts that Misaki isn't on the same page. Fushimi had confessed to him; surely he's allowed to think, given his lack of disagreement, that he had accepted. ]

If you don't want to, just say so.

[ He moves to get off the bed, annoyed and ready to leave. There's nothing waiting for him at home, but he doesn't want Misaki to see him for a while. ]

[ His stomach drops down through the floor when Yata see's that look on Fushimi's face. He messed up, he messed up really badly. He can't stand seeing that hurt look on his best friend's face.

Once again, without thinking, he reaches out and grabs Fushimi's wrist. ]

Wait- [ His cheeks heat up a bit. ] I-I didn't say that either, stupid monkey...

Edited 2012-11-26 02:58 (UTC)

[ He glances down at the hand preventing him from going much further than half way off the bed, unsure what it means and what the look on Misaki's face is telling him. Fushimi glances across the room at the door. ]

Tch. What are you saying then?

[ That look is a knife in his chest. Yata hates seeing Fushimi unhappy. He swallows and pulls at his arm, trying to make him come back. If he ruins this will they still be friends? ]

That... that I'd like to. You know.

You have to say it. [ He's being stubborn about it, refusing to look back at his friend until he gives in. Fushimi tightens his hand into a fist. ] I want to hear you say it, Misaki.

[ He grits his teeth, but he can feel his cheeks getting hot again. Why does Fushimi have to be so damn stubborn? He takes a deep breath and doesn't say it. ]

I-I want to date you!

[ He yells it ]

Edited 2012-11-26 04:22 (UTC)

[ His answer is to immediately turn to him, leaning in to catch him off balance so he can use his other hand to push Misaki down into the bed. Fushimi straddles him, twisting the arm that's still held to take control. Pin Misaki's wrist against the mattress. ]

I don't think I heard you. Say it again. [ But he's happy, and he smiles. ]

[ The sudden change in position catches him off guard and leaves him pinned beneath Fushimi's weight. He squirms, trying to push his... boyfriend? best friend? off. ]

I think everyone heard that! [ Including the nice older couple who occasionally feeds him. ]

[ He's persistent though, pushing Misaki down by flattening himself against him. They're close enough Fushimi can see the color of his eye. He looks at his mouth. ] Then everyone knows you're mine now. [ And he's still staring. ] I want to kiss you. Don't move.

[ But he doesn't do anything; it's as if he's waiting for Misaki to do the exact opposite of what he's said. ]

[ His. The possessive tone of Fushimi's voice sends a shiver through him that he doesn't understand. Yata can't protest this though, not with Fushimi looking as pleased as he does. Smiles from him were rare as it is...

He stays still for the first minute, before he eventually gets sick of waiting. He... he can do this, right? It's kissing. People do it all the time. So he leans up to try and kiss his... boyfriend he supposed, though pinned as he was it took some effort. ]

[ He doesn't hesitate to meet him the rest of the way, keeping his eyes open for a portion of the kiss to watch Misaki's face. He likes this side of him, how he can be so rough and callous but gentle at the same time. Fushimi unconsciously leans into him, releasing the hold on his arm so he can touch his hair. His fingers tremble just a little when he finally manages it, the breath against Misaki's mouth almost too quick. Nerves, excitement. ]

Misaki...

[ It's unfamiliar, the feeling of another's lips on his own. Fushimi's lips. This is his second kiss and he helped to start it. This side of Fushimi is also unfamiliar. The taste of his breath, the weight of his body. This is a side he never knew before. It's easy to see why people might enjoy this sort of thing. ]

Y... yeah?

It might be better if I take off my glasses.

[ It's the first thing to come to mind, unsure what he'd wanted to actually say. Misaki doesn't seem to mind it so much now. It's experimenting and exploring both, meant for fun, and Fushimi's enjoying it far more than reading some predictable manga his friend had given him.

He sits up enough to pull the frames off and place them somewhere on the upper part of the bed, tilting his head a little to kiss him again. Without the pressure of his glasses, their faces fit together comfortably, and it's noticeably less awkward than before. ]

[ There has to be something weird in his head, the way he doesn't mind kissing his best friend who suddenly seems to be becoming more than that now. Instead all he felt was the heat of their bodies and the featherlight brushing of hair against his face and found that he didn't mind any of it. His free hand finds itself clutching at the back of Fushimi's shirt, as if Yata needs an anchor to keep him afloat. ]

Edited 2012-11-26 17:39 (UTC)

[ He wants to experiment with his tongue, but Fushimi can read Misaki's body language, how he's hanging onto him like he doesn't know what's what. It means he should stop and wait for him to catch up. He opens his mouth, wondering what to say. ]

Your face is red. It's cute.

Shut up. [ He tries to scowl, Yata hates feeling so inexperienced when they're the same age. So before Fushimi can say anything else he kisses him. Except he kisses like he's picking a fight, with more than a little bit of teeth involved. ]

Edited 2012-11-27 02:30 (UTC)

[ It catches him by surprise when he bites him, the kiss rough and entertaining and more of Misaki than he could ever imagine. It excites him. Fushimi turns his head into it, opening his mouth a little even as his fingers dig into Misak's hair. A tug, and he jerks his head back so he can press his mouth to the spot beneath his chin. ]

But I like this Misaki more.

[ Normally, hair pulling would make him complain about cheap moves. But for some reason it sent an unfamiliar shiver through him now. It even surprises him when his next exhalation is a little unsteady. How can something like kissing effect him this much? ]

'm still me, the only thing that's changed is the kissing. [ Mumbled ]

We can do more than kiss. [ Fushimi isn't subtle at all, gently working his fingers deeper into Misaki's hair so that they rub at his scalp. A glance at the floor where he'd dropped his school bag, and he looks back at him. ] I came prepared.

[ He follows the glance but it doesn't quite compute yet. What could he have brought along? ]

Prepared for what?

[ Fushimi leans back and actually gives him a smile before answering him. He touches his cheek with the tips of his fingers. ] Sex.

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