A/N: I wanted to improve my descriptions and write for BH6, so I thought: why not combine the two? Thus, this story was born. I hope you enjoy, and please comment on how I did. Thanks!


Tadashi has always been a rather tactile person, always giving out pats on the back, bone crushing hugs, or affectionate cheek kisses. He's never shied away from human contact before, least of all from his brother.

But now...now, he just wants to rip himself away and run.

The lanky arms looping around his waist, the soft breaths against the crook of his neck, the unruly hair tickling his cheek and chin–these touches light his blood on fire, rousing in him a whole mess of emotions that he thought for sure he'd kept under lock and key: hope, lust, dread, and most of all...

Fear–pure, unadulterated fear.

It's only those on the verge of happiness who are afraid of losing everything. And Tadashi–he's afraid–so very, very afraid.

He wants it, wants him–badly. All he has to do is reach out and take it, accept it, but–he swallows down the lump in his throat–he can't.

He's only fourteen.

He doesn't know what he really wants.

It's just a phase.

It's forbidden.

You're brothers.

Disgusting.

"Dashi?" Hiro–sweet, beautiful Hiro–peers up at him with eyes full of concern. A brow quirks up with a question. "You okay?"

Tadashi's heart clenches painfully in his chest. His breath stills.

Tadashi had fully expected Hiro to change his mind long before they ever reached this point. He had entered into this relationship, thinking every day would be the last, and Hiro would wake up and realize that Tadashi wasn't what he wanted. He was supposed to want to settle down with a nice, pretty girl, not him, not–

"Tadashi." Hiro is glaring at him, his eyes stern, firm, and unrelenting, and his hands are on either side of Tadashi's face, preventing him from looking away. He must have sensed his thoughts taking a turn for the worse; it's happened before, and God knows how many times he's backed out of sharing physical contact because of it.

"Don't be scared. I want this." Silence drags out between them. Then, Hiro drops his hands to his sides and lowers his gaze, defeated. His voice is barely above a whisper. "Please?"

The restraint that Tadashi had clung to so desperately breaks, and he finally allows himself to touch Hiro for the first time in weeks. With long, lazy strokes, he brushes his brother's rosy cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. His hands quiver. He didn't even realize just how much he missed holding Hiro until he was finally doing it.

"You sure?" Tadashi breathes against Hiro's lips. Even at the last second, he can't help but ask. It's a way out, an escape, because once they start, there's no going back.

Hiro whimpers, fingers digging into his shirt, clinging to him like a second skin; there's hell burning in his eyes. And how can Tadashi resist such an invitation? So when Hiro tilts his head back and sweeps his lips across his, any sense of stopping is gone. He tightens his grip on cheeks and presses their mouths firmly together.

It's heated for a first kiss, full of tension, anxiety, and nerves. He tilts Hiro's head back and deepens the kiss, his lips feverish but tender. Their touches are fervent, fiery, with Hiro's hands wrapping around his neck and his own snaking around that slender waist, pulling him close.

And when Hiro finally pulls back, his eyes half-lidded and his swollen, pink lips huffing staccato breaths, Tadashi feels a surge of possessiveness and want.

"Hiro..." He gently bumps their heads together, and they gaze at each other with love and adoration. A small smile breaks out on his lips. "I love you."

Laughter bubbles up out of Hiro's mouth. "I love you too, nerd."

And just as Tadashi dives back down for a second kiss, a thought flits through his mind:

This is happiness.