It was an unintentional movement, one of those moments when you aren't thinking, you're just moving without a care.

They'd been sitting back to back, hands sort-of-kind-of touching and then Yuki had thought about having to leave the next day and not seeing him for a seemingly long seven months and then he'd turned and Natsuki had turned too because something in the air had shifted, at that moment their hands touched in a not as innocent way, sparked, Yuki isn't much of a describer, not right now. Maybe not ever. He'd leaned over, kissed Natsuki without a second thought.

Things are better like this, he thinks vaguely, when they aren't forced or planned. There's a slight touch to his side, a calloused hand running down his ribs above his shirt and he sighs, soft, more a light breath than anything, though it's stolen away by a mouth on his own, an awkward tongue that he wants to know, even through hazy nerves. His own hand moves without him noticing, when it touches skin - dry, warm skin that is not his own - it rubs up and down, pulls Natsuki's arm closer while they kiss, sort of messy and sort of shy but also everything Yuki wanted and more, because it's real and he's never felt anything like this anywhere, and it's reassuring to know that Natsuki is just as inexperienced.

They press together, heads move and their teeth clink, both of them pull back, startled, but they look at each other and Yuki is mesmerized by the glow in Natsuki's eyes, the blush, the cool wind that comes from the fan in the room, the whir. He's sure he looks worse, clumsy as he is, and the anxiety rises, but it can't seem to overtake him in this room, the water just spreads out, turns from a cold crashing wave into warm pool he stands in, holding Natsuki's arm and staring at his face. He can't exactly feel the anxiety, not right now, the touch - he finally gets to touch - is all he can focus on.

His hand slides down until it's at the curve of his elbow, unintentional, it's unintentional. Natsuki's hand wanders around his hip and there's a partial part of skin where his shirt is hitched upwards, his fingers brush against there and Yuki can feel himself stiffen. It's beginning to get warm, when Natsuki leans forward and kisses him again, gently, hand against his hip, he melts into it. He melts into it and and lets himself press forward again, this time their teeth don't clink, mouths slide smoothly together. The heat on his hip spreads, moves upwards under his shirt just a little, and Natsuki breaks the kiss this time and looks at him, asks if it's okay. Yuki nods.

His hand moves then, creeps upwards and touches the skin on his ribs, fingers dance over them, dip into the curves. Yuki shivers, grips Natsuki's sleeve, lets himself get lost in the feeling, then decides that he has to do something to reciprocate, same touch. So he lets go and rubs the back of Natsuki's neck, shifts so he can be a little closer, just barely enough to let his mouth graze the skin. Natsuki stills. Yuki starts to worry he's done something wrong, but then Natsuki moves and oh. Oh.

He's not entirely sure how this works, but the world spins and spins around him, hot breaths and warm skin and no shirts and then their pants slide off, and a mouth - Natsuki's, with chapped lips, Yuki recalls through a daze - is on and off his, hands exploring his torso, and his own hands are reaching too, meeting other fingers and palms and he thinks oh. Oh, oh, oh.

Kisses are pressed onto his neck, he responds in turn, kissing the edge of Natsuki's jaw, blushes and looks at Natsuki's face. It's the same, he's positive his face is just as red, same desperation and all. Their hips move together, up and down, arms and elbows against either side of his head on the bed and he closes his eyes and moves, listening to rough breaths and grips the sheets, Natsuki's sheets, the ones he sleeps on every night, the ones that smell exactly like him and his heart is starting to pound. He's starting to be unsteady, pulls Natsuki closer and kisses him because he can, caresses the skin on his neck and back and shoulders, a low, low groan bounces around the room and he can't tell who it came out of. It doesn't matter. All that matters is the touch, and when they move faster and everything seems to shatter and dissolve, when sweat runs down his face and he lets out a small, almost undetectable cry, when Natsuki seems to collapse on him, that's when everything comes together and he doesn't worry, doesn't even think.

That moment, when heavy breaths drain and soft murmurs are said(I love you, through his red hair he hears those words, and he tightens his hold in response), that moment is simple.


[[oh man. oh man. I hope no one minds my terrible fluffsmut writing. I hope no one minds the timing. Oh man. It was either at Natsuki's apartment or Enoshima and I think they would have died if they had to wait 7 months, but still.]]