Hiro stared at Shuichi for a long moment. His pink-haired love stared back, unsure if he regretted his rash request or not.
Hiro sighed. Why the hell am I doing this?
He stood up.
Shuichi thought his friend was going to leave him there alone in the dark, but Hiro held out a hand to him. He gazed at it for a moment then his eyes flicked to Hiro's face, back to his hand and again to his face.
"Well?" asked Hiro, a slight reluctance in his voice as if to remind Shuichi that he was doing this for him.
The singer raised his own hand reaching for Hiro's, but he hesitated, pulling his fingers to his lips. Do I really want to do this? Can I really do this?
Hiro remained still and impassive.
Shuichi looked up from Hiro's hand once more and into his brown eyes. They were filled with love and pain and sparked something in Shuichi: a tiny, struggling flame of some feeling. Was it desire?
In a sudden, definitive motion Shuichi reached out and took Hiro's hand.
Hiro gave a half smile. A part of him had been hoping that his friend would realize how bad of an idea this was, but it was too late now.
Hiro pulled Shuichi to his feet and lead him by the hand to the place just outside the park where he'd left him motorcycle. He gently placed the extra helmet he'd brought on Shuichi's pink head, tracing his fingers across the pale jaw as he buckled the strap beneath Shuichi's chin. He put on his own helmet and they got on the bike. Shuichi wrapped his arms around Hiro's waist and for a moment the guitarist paused to enjoy the feeling before revving his bike to life.
They rode in silence through the streets. Hiro wove expertly through the very late-night traffic, taking hidden short cuts, and squeezing through gaps Shuichi wouldn't have imagined he could have. Soon they reached his apartment building and Hiro parked the bike in his small spot in the parking garage. He hopped of and turned to help Shuichi to the ground. He removed his friend's helmet as tenderly as he had put it on and pulled his own off roughly and clipped them both to the back of the bike.
He took Shuichi's hand again and led him to the elevator that would take them up to Hiro's apartment. Shuichi closed his eyes as the moved slowly upward, willing himself not to think about the first time Yuki had kissed him. He was very grateful to hear the somewhat shrill ping that meant they had reached their destination.
The apartment looked just as it always had – small and messy, but friendly and somehow very safe. Shuichi took in the familiar room as Hiro locked the door behind them.
There was something oddly cautious about Hiro's movements as if he were sure he was dreaming and was terrified he might wake up. Shuichi looked at him with something between expectance and apprehension. Hiro licked his lips and tentatively drew Shuichi to his chest. He examined his best friend's face and wondered fleetingly if he would ever look at that face and simply label it "best friend" again or if tonight would pollute that forever.
"I know you want this," whispered Shuichi, his lips inches from Hiro's.
"I-," Hiro began uncertainly.
"It's Okay," said the singer. "Do it. I want you to."
Those words were all the incentive Hiro needed.
He kissed Shuichi with a desperate passion and need, letting the yearning that had been consuming him for so long take control of his body. He felt his fingers tangling in pink locks without even considering the action. His other hand was on Shuichi's back, pulling him even closer. There was no thought, no consideration; there was only desire.
And Shuichi was reacting.
He too, seemed to have no control over his body and he too did not care. He kissed his best friend back, returning the passion, letting his lips move with Hiro's and part when Hiro's tongue suggested it. Although there was not the same driving need in the way he pulled Hiro to him, in the way his fingers intertwined with the red-brown locks, in the way he kissed back, he was by no means unresponsive.
It was strange, almost otherworldly, to Shuichi. He felt almost as if he were watching a movie of himself kissing Yuki the way he had sometimes at night, expect that someone had gone in and replaced Yuki with Hiro. It didn't seem real and yet it was happening.
Hiro pulled away from him slightly. They were both gasping for breath. Shuichi privately thought that they should take this somewhere else. The door and escape being so close was making him oddly uncomfortable.
Hiro seemed to read his mind because, as his hands began sliding up under Shuichi's shirt, he steered the smaller man out of the entryway and over to his bed.
Shuichi felt his shirt being pulled off over his head only moments before he felt his back hit the bed.
"Hiro!" he managed to gasp as the guitarist settled himself aggressively over the singer.
"What?" he asked, halting in his move to kiss Shuichi again.
Shuichi did not know what he'd been going to say so instead he whispered, "don't stop."
Hiro gave a slight smirk and began kissing his newly clamed uke again.
Shuichi struggled to find the bottom of Hiro's shirt, an endeavor made difficult by the fact that Hiro kept pinning his arms down in a possessive sort of way as if to keep him from running off somewhere. At last, in exasperation, he pulled his lips away from Hiro's.
"How am I supposed to get your damn shirt off if you won't let go of my arms?" he demanded crossly.
"Oh sorry," said Hiro quickly moving his hands. He hadn't even been aware he'd been holding Shuichi down.
Shuichi rolled his eyes. It wasn't like he'd been resisting and had needing pinning to the bed. He quickly whipped Hiro's shirt off and tossed it onto the floor to join his own.
A few minutes later pants and everything else they'd been wearing followed.
It was different with Hiro. Shuichi couldn't put his finger on it. It wasn't bad or anything, just different. Maybe it was that he knew how much Hiro wanted him, how long he'd waited for this. He wondered why it didn't seem wrong. He didn't love Hiro this way. He was doing this to get at Yuki. Why did it feel ... good?
"Hiro," Shuichi gasped again.
"I love you," Hiro replied.
Shuichi could only moan and whimper.
--
Sorry if you were hoping for more, uh, details, but I'm not even going to try because it will be terrible so you'll just have to use your imagination.