Set in the future, after the third years have graduated and started college. Basically, fragments from my headcanon for these two.
Disclaimer: Diamond no Ace does not belong to me.
Nervous
He's fumbling the buttons.
Logically, this should be the easiest part of the whole process. Tanba should be worrying about what comes next, about who will be lying where, and how long it will take, or if they're really ready for this, if he's ready for this.
Instead he's fumbling the damn buttons.
Tanba bites his lip, mentally cursing his shaking fingers. The room is kept cool by the tinny gusts of air-conditioning, and he tries not to think about how much colder it will get without any clothes on. Then again, it doesn't look like he's going to have to worry about it after all because the stupid button got caught between some loose thread and is now stuck halfway through the hole.
A hand closes around his. "Tanba."
He looks up.
Chris is wearing a faint smile, and the look in his eyes is amused, but not unkindly. "Relax," he says. "It's just me."
He frowns, because that's ridiculous. It's never just Chris; it's always Chris. From their first year in the same school to their third to college. There's never been anyone else, and sometimes he can't quite believe it turned out this way. Even when they first started out, he was certain Chris would change his mind at some point, and he spent nearly every minute of those initial few weeks waiting for it to happen.
And then it didn't. Chris is still here, and it still feels a little unreal.
The other man's smile twitches, and he raises one hand, lets it rest against Tanba's cheek. "Breathe."
He does, and then Chris is leaning forward, pressing their lips together. His other hand falls to Tanba's waist in a loose grip, warm through his t-shirt.
Tanba closes his eyes, and sighs into the kiss. He lets the other man nudge his lips apart with his tongue, shivers when he licks every crevice of his mouth, slowly, with purpose.
When they finally break apart for air, Tanba's breathing hard. He tugs at the stubborn button again, and this time it comes free easily.
He exhales, and hears Chris chuckle quietly, a warm puff of air against his forehead. Tanba pushes the shirt off the other man's shoulders and, after a brief pause, tosses it over the side of the bed. The bed shifts a little and then Chris is fingering the hem of Tanba's t-shirt, tugging it over his head. He discards it in the same manner, mimicking Tanba's throw, and the article of clothing soars non-too-smoothly out of sight.
It occurs to Tanba that he's staring at empty space, and he jerks his attention back to Chris,
Who leans forward to mouth at the skin under his jaw, just below his ear. Tanba gasps, fingers fisting in the bed sheets, as his mind collapses into itself.
When he manages his next coherent thought, Tanba realises he should probably do...something. He's not sure what, but he's definitely certain he's not supposed to just be sitting there. But what? What do people normally do in this situation? Try to return the gesture? Take it a step further and start on his trousers? Why was this so much harder than their usual make-outs?
Suddenly Chris is wrapping his arms around Tanba's shoulders. Fingers press into his back, palms flat against his spine, and Chris says, quietly, "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."
It takes him a moment to process what he's hearing, but when he does, Tanba blurts out, to his utter embarrassment, "I do!" Thankfully, Chris doesn't try to meet his gaze, and he can pretend he's not mortified. "I mean. Why wouldn't I?"
"I'm just saying," he murmurs into Tanba's nape, "if you don't want to right now, we can wait."
That makes his chest clench a little, and he can't help but feel guilt brewing in his stomach. It's been nearly four months now. They've been taking it so slowly, nothing much besides kissing and the occasional petting; he knows Chris is thinking of him, is giving him time to be more comfortable about the whole concept of them being together. Honestly, all the times they've hung out have always been wonderful in ways Tanba never could have imagined, and he's really grateful for everything-but he always gets so nervous.
Which Chris knows. He knows Chris knows. And sometimes it's just so-
Tanba hugs him back, fierce and tight. "I do," he says. "Really. I just don't. I've never done this before," he admits, and cringes because will there ever be a day when he's not humiliating himself?
But one of Chris' hands is rubbing his back in soothing circles, and he doesn't laugh. "It's alright. Neither have I."
He scoffs, a sound of blatant disbelief. "Sure you don't."
"Tanba, I swear to you, I'm just going with my gut feeling." A pause. "And I may have done some research beforehand."
"Research?" he chokes out.
"Nothing extreme," Chris says hurriedly, and the hand on his back goes from rubbing circles to trailing vertically along his spine. "Just what people normally do, and what precautions we need to take, if any. That's all."
Tanba can feel his heart speeding up, and his imagination is doing nothing to help the cause. He squeezes his eyes shut, and tries to stop thinking.
"Sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
He doesn't reply. Can't, really.
"What I meant to say," he continues cautiously, "is that I think the most important thing in all this is how we feel about it. So if this is making you uncomfortable, we should stop."
Tanba exhales heavily, tries to rein in his treacherous thoughts. "It's not like that," he manages. "I just...don't know what to do."
"We'll take it slow," Chris says, pulling back a little. His fingers caress Tanba's neck, repeatedly, until Tanba meets his gaze. "Like we always do. If you really want to, that is."
He doesn't look away. There's something about Chris' eyes that remind him of the games they played together back in school. Trust me, he doesn't say, but Tanba hears it loud and clear, and it makes his heart ache with memory and want.
Tanba swallows, and nods.
"Alright," Chris says. He kisses him again, with heat. He cups the back of Tanba's head, and shifts back, pulling Tanba with him until they're both pressed against the bedpost.
And for a while that's all they do. Chris kisses him slowly, tilts his head back, so Tanba has to lean closer; he scoots forward on his knees, hesitates before he grips the bedpost with one hand, and touches Chris's bare shoulder with the other. From this angle, he can put more force into the kiss, and Tanba leans his weight forward, deepening it.
The other man hums, a low, pleased sound in his throat. A hand touches Tanba's bare waist, slides forward to his stomach; Chris traces the shape of his muscles, trails up his chest, and lets his fingers brush over a nipple, making Tanba gasp into the kiss. He rubs his thumb against the sensitive skin over and over, pinching and twisting lightly until Tanba has to stop to catch his breath.
And then Chris ducks down and licks, slow and hot, and Tanba's whole body shudders. Chris moves back up to kiss at his collarbone, grazing it with his teeth and Tanba breathes out a soft moan before he can think better of it.
He flushes instantly, tense and embarrassed even though he knows he shouldn't be, but Chris hardly pauses, sucking determinedly at his neck until Tanba relaxes again.
A hand brushes the edge of his trousers, and then Chris is unbuckling his belt, tugging down the zipper. His fingers hover next to his hipbones. "Still okay?" he asks, breathing the question against Tanba's neck.
"Yeah," he replies, and presses a shaky kiss to the other guy's cheek. "Go on."
Chris slips a hand beneath his underwear, taps his fingers lightly on Tanba's cock, and even that small sensation has him breathing rapidly, curling forward as every muscle in his body contracts. Chris gives him a moment longer before he curves his fingers in a tight grip, and starts moving.
This time Tanba couldn't have held back the moan if he tried. It feels so different, having someone else's hand in a position so intimate, knowing that it's Chris; it's so unbelievably amazing that he's completely hard within seconds.
He breathes out, tries to find his voice. "Should I. Do you want me to-for you-" he trails off there because he can't figure out how to finish that sentence, but Chris understands anyway.
"Only if you want to," the other guy reminds him. He waits until Tanba nods before continuing. "Just do what I'm doing."
Tanba extracts his hand from where it's been gripping the bedpost and fingers at Chris' trousers. He manages to pop the button open in one go this time-a small miracle-slowly dips beneath the layers of clothing and wraps his hand around Chris' cock. He starts stroking, imitating the other guy's pace, and hears Chris grunt, feels his hips jerk forward slightly.
They don't last at all. Chris gives him a few more pumps, and then twists his hand just right. Tanba keens, his fingers tightening reflexively in a tight squeeze, and then they're both coming hard, twitching into each other's grips.
Tanba slumps forward, panting for breath. He feels Chris run a hand up his arm before settling on his back. They sit like that for a while, leaning into each other as they come down from the high, reorienting themselves in the present.
Chris moves first, withdrawing his hand and wiping it on his trousers. He presses his mouth to the side of Tanba's neck. "How are you feeling?"
Tanba pulls out too, and in lieu of answering leans forward to capture Chris' lips with his own, trying to communicate the chaotic mess that is his thoughts right now into the kiss. His heart is still beating unbearably fast, he's still feeling hot all over and his whole body is shaking-but there is a comforting warmth spreading in his chest, and he realises-with no small amount of horror-that he's blinking back tears.
When they break apart, Chris is smiling warmly, bright and unrestrained. He cups the side of Tanba's face, and brushes a thumb underneath his eye. "Alright," he murmurs, hushed and content.
Tanba does cry a little, then. He tries to pull away, pressing a hand over his face to hide it, but Chris huffs out a laugh and hugs him close, holding on tight.
They fall asleep tangled in each other, and hardly move until morning.