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This could come straight from a PatiBato panel, Ushio distantly thinks as he watches Nanaki flip the moulds over the counter and tap them gently to make the chocolates fall down. This could be Chiyoda Reito in the flesh, unmoulding the fruits of his labour and glancing up at his boyfriend from time to time. Except Ushio is no Tentsuki Ouji, and Nanaki is nowhere near as talented as Ushio’s one and only love of his life.
About an hour ago, the boy’s plain blue apron was dotted with chocolate stains. So were his cheeks and the tip of his hands. Unaware of his uncanny resemblance to a certain character from a certain masterpiece, he was simply focusing on the task at hand, all too happy to be allowed inside Ushio’s sanctuary to learn how to make chocolates from the chef himself. He’s easy to please, Ushio thinks. Offer him a bit of your time and a tad of attention, and he’ll look at you as though you were the seventh wonder of the world. Sometimes, it pisses Ushio off. Sometimes, he wishes Nanaki would take a little more care of his own feelings.
“And done!” Nanaki says when he sets the last mould on the counter. “What do you think, Ushio?”
Ushio looks down at the chocolates. At a glance, you can tell which ones were made by Ushio, and which ones by Nanaki. The latters’ look less glossy, less regular. Most would find no problem with their appearance; Nanaki’s beloved chief sure would praise him so warmly Nanaki’s cheeks would turn red from the compliment alone. But Ushio isn’t like most, and he can’t be satisfied with the current result.
“Use your eyes,” he retorts. “I’m sure even you can see the problem.”
“You could be a little kinder, Ushio.”
“Why? I told you to keep an eye on the thermometer while you filled the moulds. You let the temperature rise too much, Panda.”
“Y-yeah, but you know, that’s super hard to do!”
He’s so useless, thinks Ushio, out of habit. In truth, though, Nanaki is far from useless. Patisserie and chocolate require the utmost accuracy, something which obviously cannot be expected from an amateur. The gap in experience may show in their respective chocolates, but in all honesty Ushio made far worse-looking chocolates back in the day. And Nanaki did manage to bake perfect madeleines under Ushio’s guidance; with time and patience, his chocolates will be up to Ushio’s standards.
“Of course it is. Don’t look down on chocolate makers.” Ushio picks up one of Nanaki’s chocolates. “Now, let’s try the taste.”
He sees Nanaki gulp when Ushio puts the piece of chocolate in his mouth, like a student anxious about his teacher’s evaluation. Ushio lets it melt over his tongue, taking in all the flavours, enjoying the glint of worry in Nanaki’s mesmerising eyes.
“Could be better,” he says after swallowing, which is a kind way of saying that the taste is still disappointing. “But you followed my instructions so it’s not that bad.”
Nanaki stares hard at him. “I can’t tell if you find them good or not.”
Ushio sighs. Nanaki’s always looking for validation, isn’t he? “Then let’s say you get a passing grade. Congrats, Panda.”
“Oh, thank you very much, Ushio-sensei.” There isn’t a hint of irony in his voice; he seems sincerely relieved by Ushio’s assessment. “As a reward, can I try one of yours?”
Ushio would have let Nanaki try one even if his chocolates sucked. He even made a batch of coffee-flavoured chocolate bonbons and plans to wrap them in paper later. Ushio isn’t one to give gifts, but if he simply hands them to Nanaki, that idiot will surely misunderstand his intentions, so the wrapping is necessary. Ushio isn’t unkind. He knows these kinds of things matter to Nanaki. “Fine. Pick the one you like, then.”
Nanaki takes a look at the chocolates before he makes his choice. The mould gave the bonbon a nice diamond shape, with a discreet striped pattern imprinted on top of it. It looks great, but Ushio remembers which flavour he chose for these chocolates and—
“Wait, Panda, these ones are—”
He doesn’t have the time to finish his sentence. Nanaki is already biting into the chocolate. And starts coughing almost immediately, his whole face reddening.
“What the hell is that, Ushio?!”
“They’re for me,” he explains. “Spicy chocolates.”
Nanaki glares at the half he hasn’t eaten yet. “Of course you’d do that,” he says with a sigh. “You know, Ushio, if you want to keep some to yourself, you don’t have to turn them into a lethal weapon. Just keep them in your room and nobody will steal them.”
Alright, maybe he should keep the coffee-flavoured bonbons for himself. Except he’s not a big fan of their taste: it may not be as sweet as others, but it’s still a little too sugary to him. “They’re not even that spicy.”
“That’s only something someone who burnt their taste buds with too much spice would say,” replies Nanaki. He then hands the half-eaten chocolate to Ushio. “Here, finish it.”
Ushio doesn’t think much about the situation. Numbers of times, he hasn’t thought as much as he should have in front of Nanaki; it must be said that Nanaki’s face is disconcerting, and while he may not be as handsome as Reito, he does look enough like him to not be called ugly. Ushio will admit it. Reluctantly, but he still will.
And because, at times, he simply can’t think around Nanaki, Ushio takes the chocolate, careful not to let his finger brush against Nanaki’s, and brings it to his mouth as though it hasn’t just touched Nanaki’s lips.
Once he realises his mistake, it’s already too late: the bonbon has touched his lips, too, and then fallen into his mouth. Ushio starts coughing, too.
“See,” Nanaki says, “they’re also too spicy for you!”
“They’re not!” Ushio retorts through his tears, but he musn’t sound very convincing. But it’s that, or revealing the embarrassing thought that has seeded in a corner of his mind. A kiss. An indirect kiss, the kind of kiss that characters in fanfiction share when they drink from the same bottle of water. He’s read a couple of ReiOu works that featured that kind of scene. They aren’t exactly his favourite, as he prefers actual kissing scenes, but they do make his heart skip a beat a little. A kiss is still a kiss.
In real life, though, the thought is so horrendous Ushio feels his whole body shivering.
Nanaki looks at him, concerned by his weird reaction. But he ends up shrugging, unable to understand what truly bothers Ushio. “If you say so. Well, I’m not helping you eat them.”
♪
See, if Ushio could kiss Nanaki, he would’ve done so already. Or maybe not. Ushio may be in love but he’s not blind: the boy he’s fallen for is rather annoying. Or maybe he’s simply annoying when he’s around Ushio. Ushio doesn’t get why he’s the only one being accused of having a sharp tongue when Nanaki can be quite brutal when he wants to.
One, Ushio writes down the number inside a password-protected file on his computer. One kiss, an indirect one, a completely accidental one; an unsatisfying one, perhaps, if Nanaki hasn’t even noticed that they did kiss. But it counts, he decides, so he wants to leave a trace of it somewhere, as a list. He adds the date as a reminder, annotates spicy chocolate, saves the file and promptly closes it.
Ushio doesn’t believe he’s the most knowledgeable about relationships. He’s a shipper, but that’s a different thing. You may enjoy depictions of love on a screen and not wish to seek to experience these feelings yourself. For a time, Ushio simply looked at something he couldn’t have. He was revelling in forms of intimacy that were out of his reach, such as holding hands, leaning your head on the other’s shoulder, or leaving a kiss on every part of their body. His love will never look like the one depicted in fanworks, and he’s fine with it because he’s happy being a simple piece of furniture, silently witnessing the most beautiful love story in front of its eyes—furniture usually don’t have eyes, but that’s just a detail.
But Nanaki barely knows more than he does. Nanaki is simply a boy full of dreams, rejected too many times to believe in them anymore. And Ushio has been by his side for too long not to know how fragile he is deep down. Ushio can’t look at him and not see the hope that shines brightly in his eyes. It’s up to him to treat Nanaki the way he deserves.
After all, he did fall in love with the most annoying boy on earth, so now it’s all on him.
♫
The second entry in Ushio’s list of kisses takes him by surprise, too. And he wonders why he didn’t think that Nanaki would kiss him that way—because he’s a romantic, and his whole heart, his whole soul belongs to Ushio, so that was to be expected. But still. He has underestimated his boyfriend a little.
When the bell rings, announcing the end of the lectures for the day, Ushio gathers his belongings, says goodbye to Muneuji and heads for his clubroom. The Bon Appetit Cooking Club is rather lenient with participation, but it’s been a while since he dropped by. Careful not to accidentally be bumped into by someone, Ushio avoids the most crowded corridors. This makes him take a detour, but it’s a lot more comfortable for him so he doesn’t mind.
Once he reaches the top of the stairs, he looks to his left. A familiar boy is standing there, talking to someone who must be a friend, or an admirer, or perhaps both.
Before he can decide what to do, his eyes meet with Nanaki’s. He sees the way they widen, the genuine smile that lights up his face when he notices Ushio. Ushio freezes in place, his feet glued to the floor, his heart rate picking up for no reason. How annoying. After exchanging a few words with the other student, Nanaki walks up to him, careful to maintain an adequate distance between Ushio and himself.
“Going to your club?” Nanaki asks—and, really, his smile is blinding. The first time Ushio saw him smile like that, with all his feelings dangling over the curve of his lips, he thought that Nanaki was the handsomest boy Ushio had ever laid his eyes on. He only noticed that he didn’t think about his resemblance to Reito hours later.
Ushio nods. “And you?”
“Not today. I promised Akuta to help out with his next project. He wanted me to make him a playlist.”
“Ugh, good luck with that.”
He should say I’ll get going, but he doesn’t feel like leaving Nanaki right away. Nanaki himself doesn’t move.
A comfortable silence settles between the two of them. They simply stand in front of each other, watching the other without a word. In his heart of hearts, Ushio doesn’t mind admitting that his boyfriend is easy on the eye. And it doesn’t feel bad, to be around Nanaki when they’re not arguing.
“You’ll be late,” Nanaki whispers after a while.
“It’s fine.”
Ushio regrets his words as soon as he utters them. There’s this one work by Sanseiu-sensei where Reito and Ouji are phoning each other, and both are unwilling to hang up first. Ushio may be in love, but he’d never try to reproduce one of his god’s works in real life. Fiction is fiction, and whatever he has with Nanaki should not follow a fictional pairing’s evolution. That would be disrespectful to Reito, too.
“Wait, actually, you’re right, I need to go. See you later, Panda.”
“Ushio.”
Of course, hearing his name forces him to stop in his tracks. “What?”
Nanaki doesn’t say anything. He simply stares at Ushio, then kisses the tip of his own fingers, then blows the kiss in Ushio’s direction. His eyes don’t leave his boyfriend, not even for a second.
Ushio gasps. “You—”
“You’re supposed to catch it,” says Nanaki. His voice is cautious, a little strained.
His face is as red as his tie. Nanaki is always embarrassed when he stands in front of the person in love; Ushio has witnessed it many times before, whenever the chief was in the same room as them and Nanaki couldn’t help but combust in her presence. Ushio thought, naively, that he would be a different case. That them being friends for a long time (because they were, they truly were, this fact can’t be denied anymore) would make a difference. That Nanaki would be more comfortable with him, who never hid his thoughts from Nanaki, than he’d be with everyone else.
Instead, Nanaki is mortified, and Ushio realises that he doesn’t fare better. Oh, god. Love in real life is scary.
Unable to control his arm, Ushio catches the air as though the kiss had been floating around, waiting for him to pick it.
“Thanks. See you later, Ushio” Nanaki says.
He runs more than walks away, but Ushio can’t blame him. He’s trying to blink away the image that is burning into his eyes right now: the brightness of Nanaki’s joy, something he’s witnessed many times when it was aimed at another person. Now that he is the object of Nanaki’s affection, though, he can’t help but feel that he’s melting before the sun itself.
♪
The first time Nanaki asked him to come to his room as a boyfriend, when his two roommates weren’t there, had been nerve-racking. A disaster, even. Ushio wishes he could forget all about it. Never mind that they’d been in each other’s rooms plenty of times before, alone at times, because the air around them had shifted and Ushio felt like his skin was on fire the whole time. Nanaki wasn’t even touching him. He was simply there, and that was more than Ushio could handle.
The second time had been a lot easier, though, and ever since the two of them have learnt not to let their thoughts wander in dangerous directions. Ushio no longer feels like something uncomfortable is crawling under his skin. He doesn’t think of what should happen in a lonely bedroom, the breath of air separating his lips from Nanaki’s, warmth against warmth, hearts beating in rhythm. He keeps his mind in check, and so simply nods along when Nanaki says, wanna come?
“When did you get it?” he asks. His eyes are on the goat plushie that rarely leaves Nanaki’s bed, and which is now nestled in his boyfriend’s arms, claiming a space that Ushio relinquishes with regret.
“I don’t know. When I was a child, but I can’t remember when exactly.”
“And you never managed to fall asleep without it? Not even once?”
Even from the distance, Ushio can tell that Nanaki is blushing. “W-well, I just—”
“It’s fine. You’re still a kid, after all.” Ushio glances at the goat. The fur is a bit worn down in places, and he’s pretty sure one of its legs has been restitched. “Well, well, looks like you got really lucky, little guy.”
Nanaki stares at him in return. The heaviness of his gaze, a little too insistent to his liking, makes something churn inside Ushio. “Aren’t you the lucky one, Ushio? With the way you treated me, it’s a miracle that I ended up falling for you.”
That was so needlessly aggressive, Ushio thinks. Not that he minds much, because at this point he’s fine with the fact that they’ll always be at each other’s throats. There are plenty of things he could say as a reply. He could say that Nanaki himself has never hesitated to go for the kill. He could say that it doesn’t take much for Nanaki to fall in love with someone. He could say so many other things, but instead he chooses to ask: “And I’m supposed to thank you for liking me?”
“I was just saying that you were lucky the guy you liked ended up returning your feelings.” There’s something cautious in Nanaki’s voice as he speaks. Ushio finds it adorable. Even now, his uncertainties show up from time to time. Almost as if he still can’t believe that someone is finally reciprocating his feelings.
Well, it’s not like he’s wrong, anyway. Ushio can’t deny that he fell first. He’s been in love with him for a longer time than Nanaki suspects, even before Nanaki fell for the chief. Ever since that first evening in that Shodoshima inn, when everyone but the two of them left to eat out; ever since Ushio realised that Nanaki wasn’t like Reito at all, as bright as Ushio’s oshi but not as confident deep down. And Ushio didn’t understand his own feelings until it was almost too late.
So Nanaki isn’t exactly wrong: a small miracle did happen between the two of them. And the realisation that they were, in fact, facing the same hurdles of unrequited love at the same time, had perhaps undone the wall standing between the two of them.
“Well, are you really returning my feelings?” Ushio says. And then he adds, because he wants to embarrass his boyfriend: “You never told me I was your G.O.A.T.”
Nanaki averts his eyes. “… Can you please forget that I ever said that?”
“Nope. That was the worst confession I ever heard.”
Nanaki buries his face in his goat’s fur. “That wasn’t a confession.”
“Sure. Could’ve fooled me.”
“Anyway, why are you so mean to me? You’ve become much more bearable since we started dating, I thought we’d finally stop bickering.”
Nanaki’s voice is a little muffled by the plushie he keeps close to his heart. Ah, perhaps Ushio went a little too far. As the one who chose to receive Nanaki’s heart and keep it safe inside his own two hands, Ushio can’t help but be cautious. He wants to tease Nanaki, not to genuinely upset him.
But before Ushio finds the words he wants to say, Nanaki raises his head again. “You’re my G.O.A.T., Ushio,” he announces with a small smile. And with that, he leaves a small kiss on top of his goat plushie.
Ushio’s face still heats up. “What are you doing, Panda?!”
He knows already. Nanaki is only trying to get back at him—and, unfortunately, it’s working all too well.
“It’s not a confession,” Nanaki points out. “Unless you want it to be one, of course, but that’s on you.”
“Do you even hear yourself?! You literally kissed your goat!”
“And? It’s my plushie. I can kiss it all I want. What’s it to you?”
Nanaki’s affected innocence is going to be the end of Ushio. He knows very well what he’s doing, his face is as red as Ushio’s must be, but he’s doing it nonetheless. Because this, for sure, counts as a kiss—their third one, as Ushio will note in his list later.
Ushio takes a deep breath. This is going too far. “Panda. Let’s call a truce.”
“... Let’s.”
“And put that thing down when you’re talking to me,” he adds, although he doesn’t mind its presence that much—but he enjoys the way Nanaki laughs and gently sets his goat aside, just because Ushio is asking him to.
♫
One thing Ushio’s learnt while he worked on his first doujinshi: writing fanfiction about your favourite character is, in fact, not as easy as it seems. You may have a good grasp on their personality, know their whole lore like the back of your hand, and imagine whole scenes inside your mind (how Reito would lean in to kiss Ouji, his hand under Ouji’s chin to tilt his head up, and how Ouji’s eyes would widen at the gesture, enraptured by the promise of a kiss, his whole body tensing up even though he’s only being touched by the tip of his lover’s fingers), once you sit in front of your empty file, you suddenly lose your ability to use words. There’s nothing worse than a blank page challenging you to fill it with your fantasies. You have to turn down the inner voice telling you that everything you’ll write down is cringe and unworthy of being read. You try to remember how people normally talk to each other because you’re starting to doubt that you’ve ever had a real conversation with anyone. You open a dictionary tab and look up the definition of words you use every day just in case you don’t use them properly, because who knows, maybe you really haven’t been using them properly the whole time and no one told you. And you wonder why you can’t get your Reito to tilt Ouji’s head even though he’s standing right in front of him—but, no, your Reito simply doesn’t want to do what he’s told. In a way, it’s hell. Who in their right mind would write Reito and Ouji kissing?
That’s why Sanseiu-sensei is a god, decides Ushio. Not only do they manage to overcome all these obstacles, they even craft the best ReiOu stories that could ever be written. Their hard work feeds billions of hungry souls, Ushio’s included. Obviously, nothing Ushio writes can compare to their masterpieces, and he doesn’t try to be as good as them. Still, there are too many fans who don’t see the light, shipping Reito with other characters (a cardinal sin, in Ushio’s opinion) or shipping OuRei (also a deadly sin), so Ushio don’t have any choice but to write more.
In short, he faces a terrible challenge right now: Reito, for some reason, does not want to kiss Ouji.
Where went wrong, exactly? Ushio chose to have them fight a little over something rather meaningless. From his short experience as Nanaki’s lover, a lighthearted argument is the best way to bring out the other’s true feelings, and his characters are rivals so everything should work out. Nanaki sure looks like he wants to kiss Ushio when he’s a little exasperated with him, and Ushio sure would if he were okay with physical touches. It has to be some universal feeling, so Reito should want to kiss Ouji right now. But he doesn’t; worse, he’s pretty sure that if things go on as they are, Ouji will be the one initiating the kiss. Which is absolutely not what he wants to write.
Sighing, Ushio chooses to open a new file. He stares at his screen for a few moments, trying to decide how to approach the problem. The logical choice would be to have Nanaki enact Reito’s parts while he plays Ouji’s. It’d be easier for him to picture the same since Nanaki’s face is pretty much the same as Reito’s. However, the idea of being kissed by Nanaki doesn’t sit well with him. Does it really have to be Nanaki kissing him? Surely, if he could heal from his trauma, he’d be the one kissing Nanaki, right? So he’ll play Reito’s himself.
Writing the beginning of the scene isn’t that difficult. Ushio couldn’t help but feel a little pissed off at Nanaki—it happens all the time, he doesn’t even have to think of a proper argument. Any reader who’d want to read about the two of them wouldn’t bother knowing why they’re arguing: they’d simply expect that they are. Great. Now, moving on to the kiss.
He was so pissed off that a desire flared up inside his stomach: he wanted to kiss Nanaki very badly. Ushio stares at the sentence he just typed. Should he explain why he’s feeling that way? Well, better be safe than sorry. Some readers don’t like it when you’re not explicit enough, so he quickly adds a few additional lines to explain that it just happens. Anyone standing in front of Nanaki would want to kiss him if Nanaki tried to rile them up. Maybe that’s the problem with Reito, he thinks. Ouji is nothing like Nanaki, he doesn’t look quite as vulnerable.
Well, Reito is nothing like Ushio, too, so switching the roles wouldn’t help.
Ushio took Nanaki by the chin—very unlikely, but it’s his fantasy, he can do whatever he wants—and tilted his head up—don’t remind him that Nanaki is taller than him, it’s his fantasy. Nanaki shivered. He didn’t think that Ushio could be so forward—wait, doesn’t that hit too close to home? whatever, it sounds good so Ushio will keep it as is—so he couldn’t help but stare shyly at his boyfriend. “Ushio—”
Wait. Wait wait wait wait. Ushio feels like someone turned up the heater in his room while he wasn’t looking.
Ushio takes a deep breath. He can’t stop now. If he doesn’t finish the scene, then Reito won’t kiss Ouji. That would be the end of the world. He has to proceed and actually kiss Nanaki.
“Shh,” Ushio said, and he closed the gap between their mouths to stop Nanaki from talking. There. He’s doing it. The kiss—how can he describe it? Ushio has no experience, so he has to think about the ReiOu kisses he’s read so far. He can’t get inspiration from Sanseiu-sensei’s; no one is allowed to plagiarise God, not even him. But no matter how much he puzzles over the issue, he can’t find a way that feels comfortable enough to write. Thinking about the details of a kiss makes his skin itch, as though he’s truly being touched. He might be a little too into this fictional kiss.
Well, he can just describe how it feels in a single word, then.
The kiss was awesome.
Okay. He’s done. He managed to kiss Nanaki in a fictional setting. Not in detail, but he still did it and he feels strangely proud of himself. He saves his writing as a password-protected file, as he doesn’t plan to ever show it to anyone—especially not Nanaki—and goes back to his actual ReiOu draft.
Now that he thinks about it, his problem isn’t really one. Even when pissed, Reito should be dying to kiss Ouji. That’s what it means, to be in love with your rival, doesn’t it? So Ushio makes him tilt Ouji’s head, and there you go.
♪
“Um, no, I’m not dying to kiss you, Ushio.”
Ushio stares at Nanaki, trying to determine if he’s serious or if he’s trying to act more mature than he is. At such moments, Ushio finds him hard to read because Nanaki doesn’t behave in a way that matches what Ushio knows of him. Any mention of a romantic activity should’ve shaken his confidence off. Instead, he’s looking back at Ushio with his beautiful lavender eyes, so Ushio has to push back the thought that he’s way too good-looking for his own sake.
“So you don’t want to?” Ushio says.
“That’s not what I’m saying.” Nanaki lowers his head for a second and turns the page of his workbook. “Ah, can I borrow your red pen? I’ll need one for the next exercise.”
Ushio goes through his case and pulls out a red pen. “Here.”
“Thanks.” Nanaki takes it with a certain stiffness, as always careful not to touch Ushio’s fingers.
Fanworks tell you that studying with your boyfriend is an unmissable part of the dating experience. Now, Ushio doesn’t want to do as the doujinshis say, but he can tell that the trope is pretty much a lie. Nanaki is too focused on his homework to pay attention to Ushio, and Ushio can’t understand what he’s reading if he pays attention to Nanaki. It’s boring, he’d rather be reading PatiBato now—and the fact that he’s thinking about his favourite manga instead of his boyfriend says a lot about how romantic this activity truly is.
But there’s been a tension in the air ever since Ushio mentioned that two characters were kissing in the excerpt he was reading, one that wasn’t exactly a part of his plans. One thing leading to another, the topic of them kissing has resurfaced, and now Nanaki says that he isn’t dying to kiss Ushio.
“So? What were you saying, Panda?”
“Do we really have to talk about it now?”
“Yes.” He can tell that Nanaki wants to buy some time, and Ushio isn’t nice enough to let him. “You said you don’t want to kiss me.”
Nanaki sighs and puts the red pen down. “Alright. I can tell it’s important to you—”
“Well, excuse me if I’m shocked because my boyfriend doesn’t want to kiss me—”
“That’s not true at all!” Nanaki’s cheeks start to redden again and Ushio smiles. Ah, finally a proper reaction. It’s not fun when Nanaki tries to stay level-headed. Ushio prefers him passionate. He prefers it when Nanaki behaves like the kid he is and loses his mind because the guy he likes likes him back. “I want to kiss you, but I’m okay if you don’t want to! So I’m not dying to kiss you! That’s all I’m saying!”
Ushio can’t help but smile. “So now it’s because of me.”
Nanaki seems to realise that he’s said. “Ah, no, I mean—”
“Well, I want to kiss you.” I’m dying to, he thinks, but he’ll never say it aloud. He can only offer bits of vulnerability, so far. “So what now?”
What now, indeed.
After a moment of silence, Nanaki says. “Then we find a way to kiss each other without touching.”
That’s what I’ve been trying to do these past months, Ushio thinks, but somehow he feels it’s best if he keeps these words to himself.
“Oh? Then come to my side if you dare, Panda.”
Nanaki, his face full of determination, gets up and kneels next to Ushio.
It dawns on Ushio, at this very moment, that over these past months Nanaki has grown more comfortable with him and doesn’t feel the need to hide as much as he used to. They’re entering uncharted waters, and Ushio should be frightened—but he realises that he, too, has grown more comfortable with Nanaki. The only thing that he fears, right now, is the possibility of being touched, of feeling his skin being lit up again. So long as Nanaki doesn’t cross this line, his presence doesn’t feel unwelcome.
“Are you fine?” Nanaki asks in a low voice.
“Yeah.” Nanaki’s knees are barely five centimetres away from his. Ushio can almost feel them, like a ghost kind of touch. “But don’t get too close.” I’ll reach you when I’m ready.
Nanaki nods. His lips are right in front of Ushio, tempting; but Ushio feels his heart pounding, he knows that he can’t claim them even if he wants to.
Carefully, he extends his hand, and once he’s sure that he’ll be fine he grabs Nanaki’s wrist by the sleeve of his overshirt. The fabric is thick enough that he doesn’t feel the other’s skin, but he’s still aware of the bone and flesh hidden beneath. Slowly, Ushio raises Nanaki’s wrist and pulls it close to his own lips.
The kiss doesn’t last long; in the blink of an eye, Ushio releases Nanaki’s wrist. It doesn’t feel like kissing a person for real, he knows that; yet he feels something warm in his chest, a heat that doesn’t remind him of fire at all, but of the caress of the summer sun over your skin, the only kind of touch he’s good with.
“Oh,” is all Nanaki says. The tears at the corners of his eyes speak for him.
Ushio wishes he could wipe them off himself. “Yeah.”
In a few minutes, they’ll return to their homework, trying their best to focus on their respective exercises. But for now, Ushio is more than happy to bask in the moment. It might be the fifth indirect kiss he managed to share with Nanaki, but to him it truly feels like his first.