A/N: This was on my mind for way too long.

Sena lost his first kiss when he was twenty-three.

It was fleeting; just an awkward press of lips against his own. And he could remember the brush of chapped lips against his similarly dry ones, raised skin dragging and bumping from the quick movement. And he could remember the gunmetal eyes staring into his doe-brown ones, serious and unwavering… cautiously waiting for his response.

Shin pulled away from him, even as Sena raised his hand to his mouth, eyes widening in shocked contemplation.

"… Shin-kun…" was all Sena could say.

"Aishiteru, " was Shin's response. Simple, and blunt. It was shocking.

Sena wanted to protest, and tell Shin that his confession was too strong, and too sudden, and he wanted to ask why he was devoting himself wholly to Sena, because ai was so much more powerful than suki, and Sena didn't understand why Shin would've jumped straight into that kind of love when they hadn't ever even talked about the strange tension between them that had started from the moment Sena asked Shin whether they could move in together to save living expenses, and that Sena wasn't anything special especially when he was compared with the rest of the people that he knew…

But he stayed silent, watching as Shin, blank-faced and stony, stood up, and left the room. Sena could hear him retreat to his own sanctuary, and his bedroom door made a gentle click behind him as he disappeared from view.

Unspoken with his intentions, Shin was giving him time to consider his confession.

And that was why Sena could get up an hour later from his stunned position, and busied himself with their dinner preparations, albeit distractedly. Rice was washed, and placed into the cooker, setting the time. Vegetables were soaked, and meat taken out of the freezer, set on the counter. It was only then that Sena finally knocked gently on Shin's door.

There was a slight rustle of the sheets. Shin was listening to him.

"It's seven o'clock." He murmured, words calm, but heart beating fast. "The rice will be done in forty minutes."

The door opened a moment later, and Shin came into view. "… Let's go then." He stated, grey eyes leveled on Sena's features. He reached out and took Sena's hand a moment later, waiting for him to protest.

But none came.

Sena led their way out of the house, and the gentle thudding of their feet, in complete synchronisation, against concrete was a reflection of the beating of Sena's heart. Shin's fingers were firmly gripping his hand, and their palms separated occasionally from the force of their jogging. The wind was cold by the time they were done, as three laps had left their skin glistening with the light sheen of sweat.

Sena and Shin's hands were still joined, and it was only then that Sena realised that their palms moist and it honestly felt gross to Sena, but he didn't say anything. He watched Shin as he opened their front door, leading him into the house. They shared a second kiss, with the sound of steam escaping the cooker in the background.

Soon, two kisses turned into four, turned into sixteen, and the number grew exponentially. Light kisses in the morning when they left for their respective universities, slow and passionate kisses before dinner, fleeting kisses behind the bleachers before their respective teams had a match against each other…

But it never went further than that: Sena never grew out of his shyness, and Shin didn't think of such things.

And they were fine with that.

A/N: I wouldn't be surprised if Shin told Sena that his hand fit into his like the football: awkward at first, but soon, like second nature.