a kiss, and all was said (2)
a kiss, and all was said.
AN ARASHI FICTION QUEST.
"It's easy," Aiba says, but Jun knows that it isn't, not at all. It's easy for Aiba, but Jun can't do it. Jun can't close that distance, reach out, break that transparent bubble between them. He wants to reach out like Aiba does, long-limbed and casual, like it's the simplest thing in the world and he doesn't even think about it.
He might not.
Aiba is reaching for him now, only Jun doesn't know what he wants, or how to tell Aiba that. All he can think is that Aiba's coming closer, his hand is moving towards Jun, and Jun can only think in rapid nervous thoughts that consist of trying to guess where Aiba's touch will land. And what happens to Jun when it does.
Fingers brush his cheek and Jun tenses. Aiba's hand is warm and gentle and Jun's stomach flips over. He realizes that even if he doesn't know what he's doing, he wants to try. He wants to know what happens next. He doesn't move when Aiba moves closer and a sudden surge of bravery makes him meet Aiba's gaze.
Now, he thinks.
And Aiba feels it too, or reads something on Jun's face that he didn't know was there. He leans forward, slow enough for Jun to prepare himself for this. He just keeps repeating the same words over and over again in his head: My first kiss, my first kiss, my first kiss. Like magic, like a spell, like a prayer, like a dream, like a movie, like every love story told by romantics for centuries.
When Aiba's lips finally meet Jun's, he feels like he's been standing here waiting for an eternity.
It isn't magic. Aiba is a bit too eager and Jun still doesn't know exactly what he's supposed to be doing, but Aiba's other hand falls to Jun's hip. And once Jun starts thinking about that and less about what his lips are doing, suddenly they start doing something really quite nice that feels... well, not natural, not yet, but less awkward. He goes with it; he tries to just follow whatever he feels, whatever occurs to him. And he knows he's doing something right when Aiba's fingers tighten on his hip and Aiba's breath stutters against Jun's lips.
The thought pops into his head abruptly: kissing is not about how you kiss. It is about who you kiss.
And he's kissing Aiba; warm laughter and quick smiles and slightly shy character that seems to fade a little more each day, leaving behind someone who is casually aware of himself and how much--how deeply--Jun wants to reach out for him.
Jun shivers, and they part. Aiba looks how Jun feels: dazed, flushed, but overall pleased.
"Easy," Jun says softly, still only a breath away.
AN ARASHI FICTION QUEST.
"It's easy," Aiba says, but Jun knows that it isn't, not at all. It's easy for Aiba, but Jun can't do it. Jun can't close that distance, reach out, break that transparent bubble between them. He wants to reach out like Aiba does, long-limbed and casual, like it's the simplest thing in the world and he doesn't even think about it.
He might not.
Aiba is reaching for him now, only Jun doesn't know what he wants, or how to tell Aiba that. All he can think is that Aiba's coming closer, his hand is moving towards Jun, and Jun can only think in rapid nervous thoughts that consist of trying to guess where Aiba's touch will land. And what happens to Jun when it does.
Fingers brush his cheek and Jun tenses. Aiba's hand is warm and gentle and Jun's stomach flips over. He realizes that even if he doesn't know what he's doing, he wants to try. He wants to know what happens next. He doesn't move when Aiba moves closer and a sudden surge of bravery makes him meet Aiba's gaze.
Now, he thinks.
And Aiba feels it too, or reads something on Jun's face that he didn't know was there. He leans forward, slow enough for Jun to prepare himself for this. He just keeps repeating the same words over and over again in his head: My first kiss, my first kiss, my first kiss. Like magic, like a spell, like a prayer, like a dream, like a movie, like every love story told by romantics for centuries.
When Aiba's lips finally meet Jun's, he feels like he's been standing here waiting for an eternity.
It isn't magic. Aiba is a bit too eager and Jun still doesn't know exactly what he's supposed to be doing, but Aiba's other hand falls to Jun's hip. And once Jun starts thinking about that and less about what his lips are doing, suddenly they start doing something really quite nice that feels... well, not natural, not yet, but less awkward. He goes with it; he tries to just follow whatever he feels, whatever occurs to him. And he knows he's doing something right when Aiba's fingers tighten on his hip and Aiba's breath stutters against Jun's lips.
The thought pops into his head abruptly: kissing is not about how you kiss. It is about who you kiss.
And he's kissing Aiba; warm laughter and quick smiles and slightly shy character that seems to fade a little more each day, leaving behind someone who is casually aware of himself and how much--how deeply--Jun wants to reach out for him.
Jun shivers, and they part. Aiba looks how Jun feels: dazed, flushed, but overall pleased.
"Easy," Jun says softly, still only a breath away.