Masaomi's first thought is that Mikado's lust for the unorthodox has finally driven him just crazy enough to resort to any measures he has to in order to be 'not normal'.
To be honest, seeing his friend kissing some guy he doesn't even know after innocently turning the corner is just a little shell-shocking. It's after school, and most people have gone home by now- that's probably the reason Mikado and the other boy are out here; the halls are deserted. Masaomi himself is late leaving the building, having just finished his afterschool duties.
Enraptured, he takes in Mikado's tightly closed eyes, the other boy's dyed-blonde hair similar to his own, Mikado's blushing cheeks being cradled by unfamiliar hands, the movement of their mouths and Mikado Mikado-
They pull apart slowly. Mikado's face appears thoughtful, as if he's not quite sure about something.
"I'll see you later, then?"
Mikado offers a small, wordless nod, and the barely shorter boy leaves, almost like smoke trailing off into the sky. Sighing, the dark-haired male looks over to where Masaomi is standing, obviously vexed, and at long last notices him there.
Silence.
"Ma-…Masaomi!"
"Who was that?" is the first question that slips past the blonde's lips, though there are so many more. He places his body directly in front of his best friend's.
Mikado is obviously uncomfortable. "Um…he's in the class next to ours, and…and his name is-"
"Why were you kissing him?"
"…I was curious about something," replies Mikado. His face burns with embarrassment, hands twitch slip grabbing onto his bag strap, a place of defensive comfort.
Masaomi knows this. He knows that he is interrogating, too, but he can't make the inquiries stop. "Was it a guy?"
"Yes," the black-haired boy says, after a heartbeat of hesitation. "It was."
"…did you discover anything, kissing that guy?"
"No. It just felt…bland."
"So…you're not into men, then."
"I…I never said that."
Masaomi blinks, big deep brown eyes. "Then…?"
"I think…I might need to try again…"
"He's probably still here; if you run, you could catch up to him." Swallowing hard, Masaomi averts his gaze, very aware of the jealousy racing like ice down window panes through his body. It burns frostily, too. Not like the fire many poets describe it to be.
"I didn't mean him."
"Huh?"
"Masaomi, I meant the guy that I can't stop thinking about."
"Ah. Who is he, by the way?"
"Hm…" Mikado thinks on it. "He's got blonde hair, not natural, and brown eyes. In fact…he looks a lot like you. Exactly like you." A determined light has ignited in Mikado's eyes, as if he's uttering something he's been meaning to state for a while.
The blonde laughs weakly, hopeful and nervous and not at all sure what he should think. "Don't tell me it's my dad, Mikado."
"No," he smiles, shy, shy, shy, dare he say beautiful. "It's not."
And Masaomi doesn't get the chance to reply, because Mikado's pushed his mouth against his, just touching lips and it feels so odd that Masaomi finds his mouth pushing back.
The transition is slow, but soon Masaomi's hands are cupping Mikado's face- so much like the other boy was earlier but bringing the opposite feeling, like sluggishly awakening flame. Mikado lifts his own palms to grasp the hair at the back of Masaomi's head, his reaction so different from the previous kiss that the other's breath catches in his throat. Mikado's eyes are still open, but this doesn't bother Masaomi one bit because he recognizes that this means that Mikado is seeing him, really seeing him. So he stares back.
"How did you know I returned your feelings?" Masaomi will ask later.
Mikado will flush pink and reply, "I didn't," and think secretly that life itself is just one big leap of faith.
:::
I've been on a present-tense binge lately. Thanks for reading~. C: