Work Text:
It’s not like there’s a definitive reason for why he does it. He hardly even thought about it before going for it, which was probably a mistake, because now he has to spend the moment thinking about excuses.
He could go on a rant about homosexual behaviour in animals and how it’s commonplace and how, because of it, this is totally normal and not weird, because biologically, humans are animals too.
Or he could say that there was a crumb of something stuck to Yotasuke’s lower lip, and that’s why he leaned down to taste it and why he just accidentally happened to cup his face with his hands.
None of that will cut it. Even Yatora knows it’s bullshit, which is why he awkwardly parts his lips from Yotasuke’s to stand back up and look down at him and his wide, dark blue eyes.
It was barely a kiss. Neither of them even moved. Just a soft touch of lips, maybe lasting three seconds in total without adding the time taken to lean down and connect the tips of their noses.
But Yotasuke looks terrified, and honestly, Yatora can’t really say he’s any better.
Why the fuck did he do that?
A snowflake lands on the slope of Yotasuke’s nose, no longer shielded by Yatora’s own head. The streetlight they’re standing under doesn’t really help in making Yatora feel more relaxed, given how the yellow glint makes the honest-to-god fear in Yotasuke’s eyes so much worse.
Yatora’s hands drop to his sides. He should’ve worn gloves. Yotasuke’s cheeks were warm, but that was probably because they had previously been nesting under his scarf.
“...What was that?” Yotasuke asks quietly. His lips barely move when he speaks, almost like any unnecessary movements would make him have to take in the same tingle Yatora is currently feeling.
At least he isn’t running away. That’s something, maybe. Hopefully.
“...Sorry,” Yatora manages, going to scratch his head only to stop when his fingers brush the wet snowflakes covering the blonde strands. “I just…” Felt like it. “You were about to head off, so I thought it could be a… good way to say goodbye.” Or maybe it was the only way to really express his feelings. “Maybe payback for you winning at the arcade?” Or maybe Yatora has never wanted to kiss anyone before, so now that he has kissed Yotasuke, he can’t really put into words why. “Or… an apology for… For whatever I did that may have upset you today.” Or maybe Yatora just wanted to kiss Yotasuke, and there’s no other justification for it.
Yotasuke just blinks, his brows so furrowed that Yatora is afraid he might pull a muscle in his forehead. What is the blond even supposed to say to make this okay?
“...Did you know that a lot of male animals also engage in sexual behaviour with each o—”
“Sexual?” Yotasuke interrupts, leaning back so discreetly that Yatora couldn’t even tell if it weren’t for the yellow light shifting on his face.
“That’s not what I—” Yatora interrupts himself this time around. It’s not like he kissed Yotasuke for sexual reasons. He hasn’t really thought about that, not just in relation to Yotasuke, but to most people. Maybe he isn’t an animal, or even if he is, that’s not an excuse. “...Did you hate it?” he ends up asking, quieter than intended. His throat is clogged. Something shifts in Yotasuke’s eyes, and Yatora realizes to compose himself.
No frowning, no puppy dog eyes. He’s not desperate here. Or maybe he is; to explain himself and to make things between them okay again, but not to influence the other man. It’s not like he himself enjoyed it that much either.
But he didn’t hate it, that’s true. Yotasuke was surprisingly warm. His lips soft. His hair wet from the snow but not overwhelmingly sticky.
“...I don’t know what you mean by ‘it.’” Yotasuke looks away before shivering in the cold. They’re just standing in the heavy snowfall now. Yatora probably missed his train, but it’s not that late yet.
“The… kiss?” Yatora tries.
“So I’m meant to know what your intentions were when you just suddenly did it without asking and then went on about paybacks and apologies and gay animals?” Yotasuke asks, and while his words are harsh, he’s looking off to the side, dark eyelashes catching snowflakes. “You’d probably hate a kiss too if someone did it for the wrong reasons.”
“In my defense, I think we stared at each other for like twenty seconds before I went for it, which could be taken as a signal in some cases and—” Yatora snaps his mouth shut. The tip of Yotasuke’s nose had been red for most of the day in the cold outdoors, but were his cheeks always this flushed as well?
Yatora leans down, tilting his head uncomfortably until he can meet Yotasuke’s eyes that are looking down. “...So if I had the right reason for doing it, you wouldn’t hate it?”
Yotasuke glares at him before promptly turning around. Yatora has already grabbed his arm to stop him before realizing that the shorter man made no effort to walk away. Was the eye contact too much? Was it painfully obvious in Yatora’s golden eyes that he has no idea what he is doing?
“...You’re complicating this,” Yotasuke mumbles, his back to Yatora and his coat-covered arm still in the blond’s grip. “You’re just gonna try to find the right reason to please me, aren’t you?”
“I mean—” Well, maybe. “I don’t… know why I did it. Sorry. I should’ve at least asked first, but I doubt I would’ve even done it if I had realized to ask for permission, so maybe my point here is that I should learn some common sense.”
Yotasuke lowers his head, and Yatora nearly catches a peek of his nape under his scarf and hair. Then the shorter man tugs his arm free so he can pull it back to his side.
“...So kissing people just comes to you that naturally?”
Yatora blinks in surprise. “Huh? No, I’ve only ever—” He can’t suppress the loud groan desperate to escape his throat. Yatora rubs his face until he can see galaxies behind his eyelids, and then he says, “I wish it was easy for me. I feel like I’m dying here.”
Usually, snowfall isn’t loud, which probably means that the pounding noise in the background is Yatora’s heartbeat. It echoes in the darkness beyond their bubble under the streetlight.
Yatora drops his head down but doesn’t yet dare to lower his hands. “I just wanted to, okay? To kiss you. Maybe to see what it’s like, because I don’t usually wanna kiss people so there must’ve been something special about you or something.” Luckily, he doesn’t have to figure out whether the wetness on his fingers is melted snow or something else. It doesn’t matter.
“...I’m a guy, though,” Yotasuke points out. “Why would you want to… kiss another guy?”
He finally lets his hands fall down, his brows furrowed as he faces Yotasuke, who has turned around too. His hands are balled into fists and his expression most likely matches Yatora’s.
“I didn’t really think that’d matter,” he says. “It’s not like your gender is the part that makes me like you. And by ‘like’ I mean— Well, I don’t know what I mean. You’re annoying, sometimes, but I guess I like that too. And your company, and your presence, and your temper. And your art. And your face. And I guess I wouldn’t mind kissing you again, just to see what it’s like when we both know what’s happening, but I don’t know if that has any romantic implications, you know?”
Yatora quiets down, and Yotasuke just continues to stare at him with wide eyes.
“...I think that has a lot of romantic implications, actually.”
“...It does?”
“Would you kiss your other friends?”
“Yeah, no way,” Yatora chuckles, because even the thought is funny. Okay, as a joke between the guys; sure. But it’s not like he would want to do it. Because kissing is special, to him at least, and… Well, yeah, okay, it’s romantic.
Which means that something romantic just occurred between him and Yotasuke.
“So it’s just me,” Yotasuke concludes rather monotonously. He frowns, looking away as he slips his hands into his pockets. “...Weird.”
Yatora blinks in surprise at the choice of words before frowning too. “...Sorry, I really didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Not that.” Yotasuke looks around their surroundings, head still tilted down so Yatora is left to follow the ivory gap between his eyebrows as it moves. Then, Yotasuke finally manages to look Yatora in the eyes. “I just didn’t think someone would confess to me, and I definitely didn’t think it’d be you, and I especially didn’t think you’d be so bad at it.”
Yatora stands still for a second. Soon, though, he tilts his head in confusion. “I confessed…?”
“Well… What else would this be?” Yotasuke asks. “You kissed me, said that I’m pretty much the only person you want to kiss, and that you wouldn’t mind doing it again. Not to mention that list of what you like about me.”
“That does sound like a confession, now that you put it like that…”
“How can you be so confused about your own actions and then expect me to give you a response?” Yotasuke scoffs.
“You don’t need to respond,” Yatora says with a sigh. “This is on me. I don’t know, maybe it’s romantic, maybe not, but it’s not like I expect anything more. Wouldn’t that be weird to you too?” Their eyes meet. “I mean… us, as something more?”
Yotasuke looks at him. He does that a lot, and usually Yatora quite enjoys it even if he can't always tell the reason for the glares. Maybe it's just nice, Yotasuke’s eyes being on him.
However, now Yotasuke just seems… off, and Yatora can't even blame him.
“It's weird to you but you kissed me,” Yotasuke spells out quietly, like a scoff under his breath. “Why are you trying to put the responsibility of how this conversation ends on me when you started it?”
Yatora pauses for a second, because the answer is pretty obvious in hindsight. He digs his hands into his pockets and realizes they're both shivering in the cold.
Usually, after a kiss that both participants enjoy, comes something more.
“...’Cause I'm scared,” he chuckles quite pathetically, even according to his own standards. “I guess I like you, even if I can't really tell what liking someone means. And, um, if you somehow felt the same way… That'd probably mean we'd get together, right? We'd start dating. And that has a lot of… stuff that comes with it.”
“Like what?” Yotasuke asks, not batting an eye at Yatora’s vulnerability. He's probably used to the blond’s tears by now.
“The consistency, I guess. The expectation that these kinda feelings don't change, and if they do, one of us will be the asshole for losing feelings.” Yatora shifts in place and notices the dark footprints left in the midst of pure, white snow. “And if it's me, I don't really… I guess I just don't have confidence that I'd be a good boyfriend? I don't want to hurt you because I can't make sense of my own feelings.”
Yotasuke looks at him again. When will it ever end? Yatora hopes the man will look away right at this very moment. He also hopes Yotasuke will never look away.
“...I thought you were gonna mention sexual behaviour between male animals again,” Yotasuke sighs quietly, maybe slightly relieved. He moves his feet too, leaving dark prints in the snow.
“Honestly, I fell asleep halfway through the documentary that mentioned it,” Yatora admits with an awkward chuckle. He hopes it'll be three hours later when he finally checks the time and the last train will have passed long ago.
He'd have to man up and finish this discussion if that were the case.
“I think you're overthinking it, though,” Yotasuke points out, looking away. Yatora blinks. “I haven't dated before, but… I think communication is a big part of it. Obviously your feelings will change if you just keep them hidden. You know… like a sheltered animal or something.”
“...But what if the feelings aren't strong enough to justify dating in the first place?” Yatora asks. “I mean, aren't you meant to feel completely crazy when you've got a crush? Like you can't think about anything else?”
“...You watch too many movies.”
“But everyone around me—”
“You don't have feelings for everyone around you, though,” Yotasuke mutters, like the admission was a bit bothersome to him. “So wouldn't it be enough for the person you do like to get what you mean?”
Yatora swallows, his throat weirdly aching. If he gets sick because of some conversation about the nature of romantic feelings they're having in the snowfall, that's going to be pretty annoying.
However, he isn't interested in ending it quite yet.
“...Do you?” he whispers, their eyes meeting. “Get it, I mean?”
Yotasuke stares at him for a good few seconds before shrugging. “I guess. It's not like I constantly want to spend time with you or anything, but that doesn't mean I don't…”
Yatora thinks he can see the snow freezing mid-air around them, but he's a bit preoccupied to really focus on it.
“...That I don't like you,” Yotasuke mumbles. “It’d be weirder if I was fully obsessed with you or something.”
Becoming extremely warm while in the freezing cold would usually signal hypothermia.
“...You like me?” Yatora asks, because he's wearing a coat so he'll survive for a bit longer even if burning up.
Yotasuke sighs, like admitting this was synonymous with admitting defeat. “Sadly.”
He’s heard this before. It’s always been terrifying, which is funny. Most guys would kill for a confession, but Yatora doesn’t really think it’s something to yearn for. Usually, he’d rather be painting than sneaking around some girl’s home while her parents are gone.
It’s a part of life but it’s not the part of life. Even if Yotasuke’s red face accentuating his moles and the self-conscious waver of his lip are a pretty interesting sight. It’s not scary, at least. It’s kind of cute.
“Oh.” Yatora clenches his hands into fists inside his pockets. Then he laughs, because Yotasuke likes him and he’s been nothing but an idiot. “Oh, wow, then this was probably really uncomfortable for you; me, wondering what the hell I'm feeling—”
“A little,” Yotasuke confirms with a nod. “You’re kinda weird about stuff sometimes, so I'm not that surprised it took you a while to get there.”
Yatora would apologize if it weren't for the smile climbing onto his face. “You know me so well,” he says with a soft laugh, but his thoughts are currently bouncing wildly around his brain, so this mellowness doesn't last long. “Um. Just so you know… I don't think I ever really liked the other people I've dated. So… if you actually wanna date me, I probably won't be the best at it.”
Yotasuke looks at him as if offended. “...You're acting like I have something to compare it to.” He bows his head, white flakes quickly landing on his dark hair. “Just don't change.”
“Huh?”
“...It'd be better for me, too, if things didn't change much.” Yotasuke visibly trembles in the cold. “So don't pretend.”
Yatora looks at the parting in the other man's hair. Snowflakes melting right in the middle.
He reaches forward and ruffles Yotasuke’s hair with newfound confidence. “Are you saying you want to date me, Yotasuke?” he asks with a grin.
Yotasuke jumps like a cat at the contact, quickly retreating from the touch. He glares, he scowls, and then he says, “It just… feels like the next step. It'd be weirder to say all this and not do anything.”
“Yeah, but…” Yatora tilts his head a bit. “I guess we don't really have to be strict about it. I don't want you to pretend either, even if I know you won't.” He chuckles at the mental image of Yotasuke forcing himself to engage in PDA. Then he frowns, because that kind of stuff is pretty uncomfortable to him, too. “We can be partners. Sounds more casual, yeah?”
“...Or like you're proposing.”
“No, but, I don't want there to be any expectations,” Yatora clarifies. “I like you. I do wanna kiss you again, I think. But it's kinda scary to be super definitive about it. What do you think?”
Yotasuke shivers again. They should warm up inside the train station soon.
“That's fine with me.”
“You're being too casual about this.”
“Because you're the one freaking out.”
“Now I'm thinking I'm forcing you into this or something,” Yatora sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. It's wet too, which is a bit unsettling.
Yotasuke stiffens, staring at him. He sighs and takes a step forward, weirdly close to Yatora's personal space. Usually it isn't this way around.
“Lean down,” Yotasuke whispers.
Yatora blinks, but does as told, because if he's reading the situation correctly, Yotasuke will soon cup his face when their eyes meet on the same level.
And he does, and he looks terrified even though his eyes look like deep blue space with all its stars, and Yatora thinks he would've looked the exact same if he had thought about his actions before the first kiss.
“I’m gonna kiss you because I like you,” Yotasuke mutters so awkwardly that it's weird that he's managing to keep eye contact. Even his fingers are soft, the tips of them hesitantly resting on Yatora’s cold, trembling cheeks. “Not as payback or an apology.”
Yatora stares in awe. The other man is red and his hands are freezing as his pinkies press under Yatora’s jaw and the quiver of his lower lip really is kind of cute — ignoring the fact that they're both freezing.
The blond nods as confirmation, but Yotasuke continues staring at him. Yatora experiences enlightenment, giddiness, nervousness and serenity all in the two seconds it takes for him to realize to close his eyes.
And then it's dark and then Yotasuke is kissing him.
It's soft but cold. Yatora remembers sticking his tongue to a frozen light pole in preschool because everyone around him was doing it.
He smiles into the kiss, not because he was really dumb as a kid, but because tiny Yotasuke would've probably looked at him in disgust back then, and he would’ve been right to do so. It was dumb — in general, yes, but also because he was just doing what everyone else did.
He didn’t actually want to get stuck to an icy lamppost by his tongue and lips until the teachers came to help them out. Who would want that?
Yet now Yatora kisses back with his cold lips, dipping his hand into the hair at the back of Yotasuke’s head, and the shorter man yelps against Yatora’s mouth before fumbling to resume the kiss.
It's funny because Yatora doesn't really know how to kiss either. It's funny but it's fun, and the breaths they're exchanging quickly warm up their bubble in the snowfall.
Kissing never really interested him before, which makes this especially nerve-wracking. And exciting. And comfortable, because Yotasuke's just as awkward about it as he is.
And when they pull away a bit, Yatora chuckling softly, he doesn't miss the way Yotasuke smiles. The gesture is nearly non-existent, but it's there.
“You’re really red,” Yatora whispers, the tips of their noses still touching.
Yotasuke's smile falls and he takes a step back. “I'm freezing,” he claims monotonously, like they weren't exchanging germs less than a minute ago.
“Oh, yeah. Train station?”
He nods. Yatora nods right back, and they get going, leaving the yellow light behind them. When he glances back, the fresh snow really makes it look like they manifested into existence right under the glow of the streetlight, their footsteps starting from there and following them into the darkness they’re approaching.
That’d make for a cool painting, maybe.
Yatora blows a cloud of smoke into the air and glances down at Yotasuke, who’s his boyfriend or partner now, apparently. Who he has kissed twice now.
Yotasuke tilts his head to look back up at Yatora, raising an eyebrow like Yatora should stop gawking and instead focus on not slipping on the snow.
Yatora doesn’t know why, but this makes him smile. Indeed, he turns to stare onwards until they spot the train station entrance in the midst of city lights, twinkling in the distance like stars.