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Hirano is expecting the classroom to be empty, but when he slides the door open he's met with a tawny head of hair radiating late morning sunshine. He sighs, and kicks Sasaki's ankle on his way back to his desk.
"You're supposed to be in gym class."
Sasaki lifts his head off his desk, eyes narrowed with irritation, but he hardly looks intimidating when his hair is falling every which way.
"So're you," he mumbles tiredly, reaching for his school bag all the same.
"I was turning in the attendance roster."
Hirano deftly undoes the buttons of his uniform shirt, while Sasaki more languidly peels his sweater off. After years as classmates, there should be no reason for either of them to mind the other undressing anymore, but Hirano still feels a sense of jitteriness, even unease. As he slides the sleeves of his shirt off, he feels the heavy weight of a gaze on him, and knows without looking that Sasaki's lazy motions are belied by the sharpness of his stare.
Hirano can't help himself; he looks up, and meets Sasaki's amber eyes for a fraction of a second. He looks away quickly, and can't help but turn his chest away, too. It's not that Hirano is shy or ashamed of his body, and he hates that his reflex is to hide, but Sasaki's eyes feel like they see too much.
He jams his t-shirt over his head with little regard for keeping his hair neat. "You shouldn't stare so openly," Hirano mumbles, wishing that the fabric of his clothes would muffle him so that he could avoid this conversation. His head comes out of the shirt and, unfortunately, he does have Sasaki's attention. "I don't mind, but other guys might."
The light behind Sasaki's eyes goes out, and his whole demeanor shutters. He undoes only the top buttons of his shirt, and pulls it off over his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Hirano isn't sure whether he wants to laugh or cry. "Sasaki," he says, managing to keep the pleading edge out of his voice, though he worries it makes him sound stricter than he means to be. "It's okay. But you know, it's an all boys' school, so—"
Sasaki jerks so quickly that he elbows his bag, sending it tumbling off the table; books, pens, and papers spill out and scatter on the floor. He pays them absolutely no mind, already halfway out of the classroom.
"Sasaki!"
"Bathroom," he says curtly. He's so quick out the door he doesn't even bother to slide it shut behind him, and Hirano is left staring out at the empty doorway where Sasaki vanished.
---
It's an odd situation to be avoided by someone you share a class with, much less the guy who sits in the seat directly ahead of yours. Hirano knew Sasaki to be easygoing to the point of laziness, even undisciplined; who knew he could be so stubborn about anything? It's gotten to the point where Hirano almost looks forward to Sasaki passing papers back to him, just to get some acknowledgement.
And because it's Sasaki, his evasiveness comes at the expense of his punctuality, if not his attendance altogether. He shows up at the tail end of homeroom, heedless of the lecture he gets from their teacher, and vanishes to who-knows-where during each break.
Except, Hirano thinks he may know where. The roof is still as off-limits as ever, but when Hirano pushes the door open, he hears shuffling come from the staircase landing above.
Hirano makes plenty of noise going up the stairs, trying to give Sasaki warning. He's not sure what to expect from this confrontation; is Sasaki the type to throw fists? For poking at such a sore spot, even with good intentions, should Hirano let him get a hit in?
Sasaki is sulking in the corner, headphones on, knees pulled up to his chest and a can of warm cocoa dangling from two fingers. He looks up at Hirano from beneath furrowed brows, but where Hirano expects rejection, Sasaki reaches up and slides his headphones off.
"Aren't you mad at me?" Hirano blurts, so taken aback he forgets the script he came prepared with.
"I'm pissed," Sasaki huffs, speaking into his clothes. "But it's not really you I'm mad at."
Hirano snorts and sits down, leaving a little space between him and Sasaki. "So then why avoid me?"
Sasaki groans. He presses his forehead to his knees, hiding his face from view. "You forced me to face some stuff I was happier ignoring."
"I probably could have been more tactful about it," Hirano agrees. "Sorry."
Sasaki waves him off with the hand holding his drink. "I wouldn't have wanted to hear it no matter what."
Hirano digests this, wondering how he would have reacted on the receiving end of such a revelation. Being caught staring at a classmate, a male one, while he was changing, was undressed— the thought was enough to make Hirano's ears start burning.
"So? Hirano asks, trying to keep his voice casual.
"'So' what?"
"You said you 'faced it.' How'd that go?"
"You're way too casual about it, asking like that," Sasaki complains. "It sucked. I read so much manga, watched videos... guys get up to some weird stuff."
It's a little hard to tell in the low light, but Hirano thinks Sasaki's ear might be red, too; it blends in with his hair more than usual. Maybe it's the discomfort and embarrassment, but Hirano can't help but laugh.
"I guess so. But it's okay, as long as no one's getting hurt."
"You said that before, too," Sasaki points out, finally lifting his head. He stretches his long legs out in front of him, and his feet dangle over the top stair. "You kept saying that you 'didn't mind,' but like, what kind of guy doesn't mind?"
He's staring at Hirano now, looking at him like he's a puzzle that needs solving. It takes a moment before the implication sinks in, and then Hirano's stomach clenches.
"I'm not gay," he responds precisely. Sasaki tilts his head curiously.
"Neither was I, last week," he points out. "But if I was— I mean, if I have been, uh, looking— I think most guys would mind. And you thought so, too."
Which is damning, because now Sasaki's throwing Hirano's own words back at him, leaving him floundering for an explanation. Suddenly, he can't meet that earnest gaze anymore.
"It's kind of a compliment, right? If someone thinks I'm—" Hirano smothers his face in his hand. "—attractive?"
Sasaki clicks his tongue irritably. "You're not my type. I like people who are cute."
"Then keep your eyes to yourself next time," Hirano snaps.
They both go quiet after that, and Hirano is satisfied that he got the last word in. But he can't exactly sit in his smugness, not when his mind is still grappling with Sasaki's accusations.
"Why should it bother me if a guy stares at me," he mumbles. "It's not like it hurts me at all."
"What if a guy asked you out?" Sasaki responds. Hirano feels the heat creep down his neck.
"Why would he do that?"
Sasaki shrugs, looking a little uncomfortable. "You're not— you look okay. And you go to a lot of trouble for others. Maybe this guy likes being babied."
Now it's Hirano's turn to hunch up, to feel vulnerable. If a guy who looked up to him asked him out, what would he do?
"Probably laugh," he muses. "I don't think I would take it very seriously."
"Ice cold," Sasaki says, sniggering. "So you're a heartbreaker, Hirano."
Hirano is the first to throw elbows, finding Sasaki's rib with one, but Sasaki's laughter is undeterred.
"It's all hypothetical," Hirano huffs. "No one wants to ask me out."
Sasaki hums. "Maybe not here. But maybe in college. You're short and polite, so someone might get the wrong idea and start crushing on you. If one of your senpai comes up to you and asks for a date, could you really say no?"
Hirano feels that same clench in his stomach again, a rush not unlike that first drop of a rollercoaster. He bites his bottom lip, wondering, afraid of what the answer might be.
"Or," Sasaki continues, voice dropping lower. "Maybe he doesn't want a date. 'Cause guys aren't always romantic, so maybe he wants something else."
Hirano's heart skips a beat.
"If you're okay with a guy looking, would you also be okay with him touching?"
Hirano wraps his arms around his chest tight in an attempt to quash the squirming sensation inside. "F-Fuck off," he stammers, annoyed at the shakiness of his voice. "This isn't funny."
Sasaki doesn't look like he's joking, is the thing. There's a thoughtful furrow between his brows, and his lips are pouted every so slightly. "Hirano," he says seriously. "What if we're the same?"
Hirano buries his face in his hands, looking to get away from Sasaki's imploring gaze. But it doesn't matter that he can't see him; he can feel those sharp eyes on him, to say nothing of the heat coming off of Sasaki's body. When did he get so close?
"What if we are?" Hirano retorts, voice shaky and weak.
"Move your hands," Sasaki orders, voice gentle. "Look at me."
There's a moment where their eyes meet, and Hirano can see that Sasaki's dark pupils have all but encompassed the amber of his irises. And then, somehow, Sasaki's eyes are too close to be seen.
Hirano's first kiss smells like chocolate. Sasaki's mouth is warm and a little sticky, but far from unpleasant. Hirano never spent much time thinking about what kisses might feel like, but he can't imagine he would have known to expect the press of a sharp jaw, or the lingering musk of deodorant. He's frozen, eyes surely gone wide, until Sasaki's long, thin fingers skim over his cheek; like magic, Hirano's body reacts to the touch. He leans in, slots his lips against Sasaki's, and tastes sugary sweetness.
He only pulls away when the butterflies in his stomach become too overwhelming. Hirano's heart sounds loud in his ears, so it's fortunate that Sasaki only stares at him, unspeaking.
"W-We're at school," Hirano finally says, fighting to catch his breath. Somehow, this makes Sasaki grin smugly.
"Yeah," Sasaki murmurs. He trails a knuckle down the length of Hirano's sternum. Hirano feels dangerously dizzy as he swats that hand away.
"Stop it! This isn't the place, or the time."
"But there is one," Sasaki says seriously. He licks his lip. "A place. A time."
Hirano gets to his feet; his body teeters and shakes, jelly legs struggling to support him. Sasaki looks a little too self-satisfied, like the cat that got the canary, so much so that Hirano has to fight the urge to kick him.
Sasaki leans back to look up at him properly, and the playfulness disappears from his expression. "We're both figuring things out, aren't we?" he says gently. "Where it's safe."
That, of all things, is what makes Hirano's face flush with warmth. He can't handle the earnestness, the honesty, in Sasaki's eyes, so he looks away.
"Stop skipping class, and I'll consider it," he grumbles. Sasaki laughs, and slowly gets to his feet.
"Sure, dad."
For that, Hirano finally gives in to the urge to punch him.