Hamada hadn't realized he was staring until Izumi asked, "What?"
Hamada froze. Izumi was frowning down at him from where he was standing two lockers over. His torso was bare and he held a gray t-shirt in his left hand. Physical education class had been dismissed a good ten minutes ago, and they were the only two students left in their aisle. Hamada felt the tips of his ears redden as he looked down at his untied sneakers. He gripped the bench he was sitting on.
"Nothing," he muttered, reaching down to tie his shoelaces.
This was not the first time he'd been caught staring at Izumi. It was safe enough to do during class when everyone was absorbed in their schoolwork, but in the locker room—he really needed to stop.
Out of the corner of his eye he watched Izumi turn to pull on his t-shirt. Hamada really didn't want to stop looking at Izumi, especially in the locker room; it was the only place he could catch a glimpse of Izumi's pale legs, his thin chest, his sharp hipbones, the small of his back—
"What?" Hamada demanded, his heart nearly jumping out of his throat when he realized Izumi had caught him staring for the second time in the past three minutes.
Izumi squinted at him. He was gripping both straps of his backpack and looked unbearably cute. "Nothing," he mocked in a poor imitation of Hamada's voice.
"Tch. I don't even sound like that, brat," Hamada scoffed as he stood up.
"Yes, you do," Izumi challenged. He had grown a good four centimeters over the past few months, but their close proximity caused him to tilt his face up to meet Hamada's eyes. Hamada stared down at him, somehow unable to speak. He could feel heat rising up his neck and was relieved to see a light blush across Izumi's cheeks as well. He was glad they were alone in the locker room, Tajima, Mihashi, and the rest of their classmates having left minutes ago.
After a short stretch of unbearably awkward silence, Hamada gave a sudden bark of laughter and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "We should probably get going," he suggested in as steady of a voice as he could pull off.
"Just wait a second," Izumi said sternly, reaching out to grip Hamada's arms.
"What?" he asked, blanching.
Izumi didn't respond. His flush had deepened and his lips were set in a small frown. Fear crept into Hamada's chest. Most likely Izumi had figured out that Hamada had a crush on him and was about to warn him not to try anything funny or he'd break his nose like he almost did that one time in middle school. Or maybe he was going to skip the warning all together and punch Hamada's lights out right there and leave him to bleed out on the locker room floor.
"I—" Izumi finally started, before leaning in to press his lips against Hamada's.
Hamada's stomach flipped. Izumi's lips were firm against his and he clutched at Hamada's upper arms tightly. Hamada pressed back, but before he could reach up to cup the back of Izumi's neck, Izumi pulled away.
"I had a feeling," Izumi said smugly. His blush intensified the freckles that scattered his cheeks.
Hamada didn't respond; he rested a hand on Izumi's shoulder and leaned in to kiss him again. This time Izumi didn't pull away right away; he wrapped his arms around Hamada's neck as Hamada's tongue slipped into his mouth, egging him on with his own tongue for a minute before pushing at Hamada's shoulders.
"Stop doing that," Hamada whined when they broke apart.
"We're gonna be late for class, idiot," Izumi said with a small smile.
"So," Hamada said weakly, though he honestly couldn't risk getting detention for tardiness again.
"So? I don't know about you, but I wasn't planning on staying after school for detention," Izumi said, tugging on Hamada's sleeve and pulling him towards the locker room exit.
Hamada spent the entirety of their history lesson staring at the back of Izumi's head. It was no different than any other day and Hamada might've thought the kisses in the locker room had never happened if it hadn't been for Izumi glancing back at him every once in awhile, only to blush, frown, and look away when Hamada grinned at him.