A/N: Written for a tumblr user. I decided to place it here just for kicks. Maybe I'll add something more to it if I have the patience.
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When they're in their last year of high school, all they've got in their hands are college exams.
He studies with Monta and Suzuna; Taki, despite his sister's best efforts, shrugs them aside with a condescending smile and a conviction that he is going to be an amefuto player. Those days, Suzuna kicks Taki face-straight into the floor, while Monta and Sena wait for her to be done, cheering her on (Monta) or smiling nervously and attempting to blend into the nearest wall (Sena). Those days, they spend their afternoons in silence, cramming everything they can inside their tired brains. Those days…
"I miss practice," Monta wails, forehead flat against the table. "This sucks MAX!" Suzuna and Sena agree, with a polite nod. Sena does miss football, but there's nothing to be done. That's just the way his school works. "Maybe we can sneak into practice," he adds, then.
There is a very pregnant pause, and then Suzuna just Sighs.
(A capital-lettered Sigh.)
"You're a moron. How would no one notice if you two sneaked into practice? I mean— really, Monta?" The other boy practically deflates, shoulders drooping. "What you need," Suzuna adds, "is to find some other sort of physical activity! One you can do without breaking the school's rules."
Sena thinks he spots her eyes flickering into his. But, when he tries to make sure, she's already glancing at Monta. He wonders if it was just his imagination.
"Like what." He sounds unimpressed.
"Oh, I don't know." She shrugs, making a big deal out of acting casual. She rests her chin on one hand and uses the other to tap her pen against the table. "I'm sure you can think of something, hmm?"
Her foot rests against his as she finishes her sentence, and Sena swallows, thinking of things no proper high schooler should think of.
"Dude," Monta says, and god, Sena's hands are sweaty all of a sudden, "come on. How about it? We could totally pretend we're new students!"
"You're joking, right!?" Suzuna squawks, eyes wide. "He's the ex-captain and you're the ex-catching ace, you buffoon! Everyone knows who you are!"
"Who are you calling a buffoon, you— you— you ironing board!"
Sena ducks under the table as Suzuna throws the biggest book she can find.
Those days, they get kicked out of library.
"So," Suzuna says, as they walk home. Monta has already left, but Sena's a good kid, and he's been brought up well, so he knows he's supposed to always walk girls home. "Have you decided what you're going to do? How about swimming?"
Sena's brain treacherously reminds him of all the things he could do, and he harrumphs, looking ahead. "Oh, I don't know yet. I already jog in the mornings, so that only leaves me the afternoons."
"Hmmm," she says, dragging it out, that last syllable, her cheeks puffing. She looks adorable. She looks kissable, too. When has she started wearing gloss? "How about," she starts, and he almost cracks his neck with the speed he uses to look away from her mouth, "Shin? He'd know what to do, wouldn't he?"
"I-I guess," Sena says, scratching at his cheek, "but his training's a little too much for me."
"I suppose you're right." She laughs. He's looking at her mouth again when she turns to him, setting her hands on her hips. "You know," she says, suddenly serious. He stops, confused. "If you want to kiss me, I'll let you."
There is a long pause. Sena can feel his face's temperature slowly, steadily rising, up until the boiling point. He doesn't think his face has ever been this hot. Maybe. He doesn't know. Some nights—well, he's a teenager, okay, so blame him for hormonal imbalances—
"Hey, don't space out after I've said something so important!" Suzuna says, smacking him in the arm. He winces a bit, even though it doesn't really hurt (he's already used to physical attacks on his person), and then he breaks into stammering.
"I-I was just— I wasn't— I mean—"
Suzuna frowns a little, and then sighs. Her disappointment is what springs him into action (that, and the fact that it's been a long, long time since the last time they've kissed and— he wants to kiss her— he really, really wants to kiss her).
"Wait!" he says, a little louder than he'd expected. Harrumphing awkwardly, he lowers his voice, looking at the floor. "I-I'd like to, if you don't mind."
Suzuna's smiling, her previous disillusion gone. She leans in for the kill, one hand cupping her mouth, her eyes on his.
"You know," she says, and it's the tone of voice she uses when she wants him to do something for her, "my parents are out today."
Oh.
That's— um— well.
"Uh," Sena says, swallowing in dry, and Suzuna waits, "okay."
He's been to her house before— but only when her parents are there. Suzuna's dad is a bit out there, but her parents are both nice people, so he doesn't mind dropping by once in a while.
Suzuna's house was definitely not meant to be quiet, Sena thinks, as he takes off his shoes. His throat is tight, and he thinks he's going to pass out anytime now, but he manages to follow her up the stairs. He's been to her room before, too, but that day her mom had been home and the door had been open the whole time, just in case she'd think they were doing something. Today, there's no one home— not even Taki, he notices— and Suzuna closes the door behind her.
Yeah, he thinks, this isn't nerve-racking at all. She drops her bag near the foot of her bed, and then rolls her eyes when she spots him frozen at the door.
"You can relax, you know. I won't bite," and then she grins, "unless you want me to."
Sena turns a darker shade of pink, but nods, dropping his bag near hers. Suzuna is already sitting on her bed, checking her phone.
"Do you want something to eat, or some tea, anything?"
He shakes his head. She places her phone on her nightstand, and then turns to him, smiling. He doesn't think he's ever been this nervous, not even when they kissed for the first time, or when Suzuna decided to introduce her tongue to his for the first time. But this (even if it is also a first time) is Completely Different and—
"Just get over here and kiss me already," Suzuna says, arms folded, expression impatient, and Sena thanks the gods his girlfriend is so proactive because he's certainly not there yet. It's not that he doesn't think about it (he does), it's that he's a little too shy to put his thoughts into reality.
He does as she asks, and it's great. Maybe because they've been so busy studying that they haven't really had the time for each other, or maybe it's because he really likes her— who cares? Suzuna's lip-gloss tastes like a mix of orange and strawberry, a flavor as peculiar as it is pleasant. He's in the middle of enjoying it when he feels her hands tugging on his shirt, asking him to sit down. He does as he's asked (he's pretty good at that), and as soon as he's sitting, Suzuna circles his neck with her arms as she plops onto his lap. Sena's spine straightens so hard he thinks he hears it pop.
"This is more comfortable," Suzuna says, with a sly smile, looking up at him.
"Oh— um," is what he manages to reply, busy with the thought that she's wearing a skirt. She's wearing a skirt and she has her knees on either side of his thighs and she's sitting on him—
"You're warm." She palms his neck, dipping her fingers into the collar of his shirt. He sighs without even meaning to, and then feels very embarrassed at the thought that that kind of sound came out of his mouth. Suzuna looks very satisfied with herself.
God, he thinks, when she leans in, shifting against his crotch, her mouth seeking his. Sena's hands press against the curve of her stomach, softly at first, because he's still anxious. Suzuna smiles— he feels her lips quirking up— and then grabs at his wrists, pressing them down. Oh. Okay. He likes the curve of her rib as it vanishes into her stomach, and he's wondering what it would be like to touch her under her shirt when Suzuna locks her feet behind his back (with a speed that puts his runs to shame). Sena's muscles tighten in surprise, and she makes an appreciating noise against his mouth that shoots straight down—
"Um," Sena starts, pulling away anxiously, "maybe we shouldn't—"
"Maybe we should," Suzuna cuts off, eyes soft. She's different than before; a little more serious. He feels relieved when he notices she's just as out of breath as he is. She leans in a little, mouth against his ear: "Are you going to tell me you've never thought about— you know—" she whispers, and he hears it, he hears the anxiety and the fear that perhaps she's not good enough for him, and that's what has him wrap his arms around her, pulling her even closer. Close enough that he feels the press of her chest, the hard swell of her ribs, the curve of her hip, the insides of her thighs as they close around his pelvis (and doesn't that give him the most interesting of sensations).
"I've— of course I've thought about it," he mumbles, mouth into her neck. She smells nice, like shampoo. He likes her better without perfume. "I'm just— this makes me nervous. I don't wanna screw it up."
She huffs into his ear (he tenses, ticklish), and wraps her arms around his neck again, pulling back to meet his eyes. She's smiling again, and his anxiety levels drop so far he can't even see them anymore.
"You're such a—" Suzuna starts, but she never finishes, giggling and kissing him and digging her heel into his back. Sena's surprised again, but this time (he realizes with abject horror) he bucks his hips up, into her. Into Suzuna. She pulls back, eyes wide, and then looks down, and Sena realizes he's probably never been this embarrassed in his life. He thinks: I'm hard, and she noticed, and now — and now what? She's going to hate him forever and she'll break up with him and …! "Sena, a-are you—?"
"I'm sorry," he whispers, horrified.
She surprises him with a wide, blushing smile that spreads the red in her cheeks into her ears and neck. He takes a second to appreciate how pretty she looks when she blushes, because in the next he is sucking in air through his teeth.
"Suzuna," he half-shrieks, half-groans, eyes wide, face aflame. Suzuna looks up from his pants.
"I can't?"
"I— we—"
The issue is if she can't or can, but more like: should she? Are they actually ready to take the next— her fingers are playing with the elastic of his boxers and it's suddenly hard to think. Sena tries to focus. Maturity. That was it, right? Right. Are they mature enough to handle—
"Hng," he says, eloquently, when her left hand palms him through his pants. Suzuna's eyes are terribly wide, while he's struggling to keep his open. No, he thinks, focus. Her index finger runs across the (visible, now) length of his dick, and his throat makes a funny noise. His treacherous brain abandons reason and inquires: how would it feel if your pants were not in the way? He admits to himself that he is very, very curious, and also very eager to try.
"Wow," she says, so quietly that he thinks she didn't mean to say it aloud. Her eyes grab his, wide and shiny. "I can, right? It looks like you want me to, either way."
He opens his mouth to speak (have her eyes always been this big?), but then looks away, feeling hot in the face, feeling self-conscious. "…please do."
She presses a kiss against his cheek and then another one, feather-light, against his mouth; then, she dips her hands inside his boxers and he finds that it's really, really hard to keep from bucking his hips up.
"Wow," she says, again, this time louder, and he bites on his lip when she wraps his hand around his dick. Suzuna's hands aren't as calloused as his and it makes one heck of a difference. They're tinier, warm, softer.
"U-um, you can—" he sucks in a breath, "you can go faster— I mean— if you want?"
"I do," she replies with a smile that would probably get him hard if he weren't already. "You know," she continues, looking down. Sena hasn't looked down once. It's too embarrassing to know that she's watching— looking at the most private part of him— but at the same time it's kind of… hot? "You can give me directions." She slows down and the pace is maddening, building him up only to let him fall. He wonders if she knows what she's doing to him. Probably. "It's not like I really know what I'm doing, you know."
It certainly looks like she does. He grits his teeth and closes his eyes, telling himself to last longer— endurance training had better pay off. When he opens them again, he finds her looking down, eyes focused on her task, and it makes something inside him tighten like a spring. He wonders how long he'll last before he comes. Probably not much.
"C-Can I borrow your hands?" he asks, in a whisper. Suzuna looks up at him and then nods, curious. He wraps his fingers around hers in a practiced gesture (and he knows he'll be embarrassed later, but the now is the only important time) and bumps up the speed.
"Oh—" she says, mouth slack, cheeks red, and Sena wants to kiss her, or maybe he wants to drag his teeth across her hipbone, into the apex of her thighs. He comes with a soft, strangled noise, lucid enough only to cover the head of his dick with his hands (he would hate to make a mess). Suzuna's breathing just as hard as he is, looking down at her handy work. "Wow. That was— well—"
Sena breathes through his mouth as he sets a slow hand on her thigh. Suzuna's eyes soften (is she nervous? Or does she just want him to return the favor?), and he takes it as a sign that he is allowed to proceed. Suzuna's legs are soft, and warm, and a fleeting thought warns him that he'd very much like to bury his face between them (and he blushes hard, ashamed). His fingers are a slow probe, flattening against knees and then running up. She inhales, expectant (he hopes), and Sena proceeds, until she breathes in twice in a row. The sound is exciting.
Suzuna's underwear is nothing new to him. He's embarrassed to admit that he's seen it before, but even more embarrassed to admit that he's thought about it at night, when the ceiling offered no consolation. And yet, when the tips of his fingers drag against that forbidden cotton, he feels his stomach pull again. He wonders how long it will take for him to get hard again.
"Oh," Suzuna whispers.
"W-Would you mind getting up on your knees?" he asks, glancing up at her eyes. She nods, uncertainly, and folds her legs, grabbing at his shoulders for balance. Like that, her skirt no longer stays up, which makes him a little sad. Somehow, he gathers up his guts and: "Um, can I— can I take off your skirt?"
The look she gives him is a mix of shocked and amused, but she ends it with a sly smile. "Sure," she purrs, and pulls on the end of her shirt until he sees her navel. That sights brings about a waterfall of other thoughts, but he focuses on the side-zipper she's uncovered. It's cold, the first cold thing he's touched since— what?— ten minutes? Twenty? How long has it been? When he pulls it down, her skirt slides as well, and he is left with the mouth-watering sight that is Suzuna in panties and little else. A shirt, his mind helpfully supplies, a shirt that could be easily taken care of.
"Your hands are shaking," she says, between giggles.
"S-Sorry." He relocates his hands to the hollow of her hipbone. "Can I—?"
"Y-Yeah."
He presses a kiss into her stomach (even though it's clumsy because he can't bend over without knocking his head into her) and a shy pair of fingers inside her underwear. Suzuna gives off a long sigh when he curls his fingers against her, and he thinks he might come again just from the sound. Suzuna looks focused (in what, he doesn't know), eyes closed, lips parted, cheeks red. Sena presses another awkward kiss against her hipbone and flattens his hand against her. She shivers, shoulders taut, and her fingers tighten around the fabric of his shirt.
"Sena," she breathes, and her hips twist a little, against his hand, and god he's never going to forget this moment for as long as he lives—
"I'm home, dear sister!" Taki calls from downstairs, slamming the door. "Turns out the trials are only tomorrow, ah-ah-ah!"
"...fucking idiot," Suzuna hisses, under her breath, hanging her head.
Sena wonders if Hiruma's rubbing off on her, and then proceeds to panic.