newsockfeeling (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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bakerstreet2016-02-19 08:37 pm
newsockfeeling) wrote in bakerstreet2016-02-19 08:37 pm
Adolescent Sexual Exploration Meme
Though the concept of "adolescence" is a relatively new one, the nebulous age between the onset of puberty and the age of majority has almost always been a time for changes. A young person's body as well as their mind is changing, but most importantly, they are on their way to becoming a sexually mature adult. Often times, these adolescents may feel the desire to express themselves in this intimate way and experiment with others their own age. This may happen in a safe environment, but not always. Depending on the time and place, these sort of activities may be viewed as harmless or the ultimate taboos, especially if the desired person or act is otherwise "deviant." Still, that doesn't change the fact that the urge, more likely than not, is very, very present.
How to Play
-This meme is for sexual exploration between inexperienced, underaged characters. The point is for character growth, awkwardness, sweetness, or fluff, not necessarily sexiness.
-All characters should be 18 and under or taken from a canon point where they are (ie, canon!Dean Winchester isn't applicable to this meme, but pre-canon teen!Dean is).
-All characters, human or not, within the correct age range are welcome.
-When commenting, please include your preferences.
-Comment to other characters.
GENERAL
1. Sneaking out
2. Planned First Time/Dating
3. Arranged Marriage/Married Young
4. Tradition (IE, boys being taken to brothels to "become men")
5. Kids Alone Together in the Cruel World
6. Non-Consensual
7. Sheltered and Naive
8. Incest
9. Attempting to Be More "Adult" or Mature
10. Playfulness or Roughhousing Turns Into Something More
11. The Sibling of my Friend
12. Childhood Best Friends
13. The Girl/Boy Next Door
14. Always Had a Crush on You
15. You're Something New to Try, I've Never Seen Someone Like You
16. Freestyle
School-Related/Modern
1. Party/Drunk
2. Dare or Seven Minutes in Heaven Gone Awry
3. Sleepover
4. Under the Bleachers at a School Event
5. The Classic Back Seat of a Car
6. Getting Too Close at the Haunted House
7. On the Bus for a School Trip
8. Beach or Mountain Vacation - Uh Oh, You're in the Same Hotel Room!
9. Empty Classroom After School Hours
10. In the Shower After Sports
11. At the Movies
12. Overnight Field Trip
21. Freestyle
Juno | Juno | f/m
Kira Yukimura | Teen Wolf | f/m
Nishinoya Yu | Haikyuu!! | OTA
School-related, #2?
It was all a prank; intended to be harmless, Asahi was sure. It wasn't their fault, after all -- his teammates couldn't have known when they'd done this that they'd be locking their wing spiker in with his long-time crush!
...Could they?
No, no -- they'd never do something so devious. It was all just dumb luck; they were victims of circumstance, nothing more.
Unfortunately, said circumstance was as uncomfortable as it was distressing. Not only was it pitch dark in that tiny closet, but Asahi was surrounded by empty hangers just waiting to get caught in his long, pulled-back hair with the slightest movement. Good thing he was more or less frozen stiff where he was, awkwardly hunched to give Nishinoya the maximum amount of personal space possible.
No matter the implication of the ordeal, he wasn't about to make a move. Uh-uh, no way.
"A-aah," he sputtered out in an awkward, broken breath, hand slipping under the fall of his hair to rub at the back of his neck as he looked away. "Sorry about this." Taking the blame as per usual, he offered a benign -- if strained -- smile that the libero likely couldn't see in the low light. "I'm not sure why they picked us, but it'll be over soon."
Not soon enough. Six minutes, thirty-five seconds... thirty-four... thirty-three....
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Well, there was no need! It probably was dumb luck that they got paired up, but there were definitely worse people to be paired up with, like Kageyama. Crabby and irritable, likely to be a spoil sport from the onset or start using the hangers as weapons to keep his distance, not that Yū had any interest in guys like that.
Or guys at all, right?
He shook that thought away with a literal shake of the head, clapping Asahi on the shoulder, or at least, that was the intention, more like smacking his arm in the process, feeling just how ramrod straight he was. He needed to loosen up. It was just a game!
Even so, they were going to beat this and step out victorious, no skin off their backs.
"We got this!" he encouraged, grinning upward, he hoped in the direction of his face, though getting clipped with the sleeve of a coat or something in the process and batting it aside.
"Tsk."
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Or maybe more than three feet given the slap to his arm, which was probably meant for his shoulder. It still made him jump all the same, and likely would have even if he'd been able to see it coming. At present, there was absolutely zero chance of that.
And to think -- people were expected to make out in a closet like this? How?! Asahi couldn't find Nishinoya even if he'd had the inclination!
Which he most certainly did not, of course. Absolutely not. The wing spiker cleared his mind of all thoughts like that in an instant.
...Mostly. Close enough.
A for effort, Asahi. Nice try."Yeah, we do," he affirmed finally, shifting his weight to try to avoid cramping from his awkward positioning. How long did they have left in here, again? He'd lost track at some point. "You think they'll just... come get us when our time's up?"
Not that he was worried about it or anything. Or that he thought for a moment they'd slam the door in their faces if they learned the two of them hadn't spent their seven minute detainment kissing.
...Oh god!
A cold chill rushed up Asahi's spine at that realization, making him shiver hard enough to jostle his shoulders, which in turn rattled some empty hangers. Dead giveaway.
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It usually didn't take much to rattle him anyway, when he wasn't focused on the play. Still a wimp inside such a big body, but that was OK. Luckily Yū didn't put much stock in height and unfair expectations and judgements based on how they looked (because he'd fall short, and like hell that was happening). He just compensated for the things he couldn't change by endlessly working on the things he could, like supporting the team.
And backing up Asahi when he showed even the slightest hint of doubt was something he always did, without thinking.
"Hey, let's sit down!" The hangers were less likely to (seem to) attack and Yū wouldn't have to fight the clothes for breathing room and maybe with less to physically spook him, Asahi would calm and just ride it out, like he planned to do. It was Seven Minutes in Heaven, right? It might be different with a girl, but just because they didn't have intentions like that didn't mean their turn had to be hell.
And because he wasn't really giving Asahi much of a choice, he reached for his arm, finding a sleeve and tugging on the material. Down, big guy.
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...Or a timely one where they hadn't kissed, the wing spiker thought with a forced swallow. But pulling him back to reality from his worst-case scenarios was the closet's other occupant, invisible and seemingly omnipresent in the pitch darkness.
Sitting seemed like a far more comfortable option than being hunched among empty hangers that threatened to tear at his well-kept and lovingly-grown hair, and occupied ones that compressed him with their cargo. But Asahi was all legs, and that meant taking up more of their precious little shared space for the sake of his own benefit. He would've never gone for it if not for the insistent tug of the little libero's hand on his sleeve in downward fashion -- then he didn't have a choice. He acquiesced, same as he did nearly every time with Nishinoya.
...Well, except for that one time. But they don't talk about that anymore. It's in the past.
Cautiously, Asahi felt all around him as best he could before lowering himself down -- and, of course, the inevitable happened.
"Aah-- s-sorry!" Karasuno's ace sputtered out at the feeling of his bare lower leg brushing against another like it, recoiling as best he could. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" A silly question, perhaps, but the libero was always head-to-toe in bruises, new and darker every day. Though he was obviously anything but, Asahi had a tendency to act as though Nishinoya was made of glass because of it.
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Unless he was talking about some kind of static shock, and honestly it wasn't really the right season to worry about that, then there was no possible way that brushing up against him on the long way down could in any way have resulted in an injury, unless dust mites had suddenly become dangerous, and Yū was pretty sure he'd hold up just fine against some grey dirt.
"Asahi-san!" he might have snapped if he wasn't snickering at the other boy, trying to scoot a bit to the side to make room so he could settle down without fear of bowling him over with his too-long legs. The rug burn would probably be more threatening than Asahi.
"It's fine. You barely touched me."
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"Good," Asahi exhaled on a sigh, and then realized what he could be implying with that one word as a standalone reply. "I mean--... not good that I barely touched you, but--"
...What was he saying? Since when did that matter?! Damage control, stat! Maybe if he just clarified...
"--but good that it didn't bother you."
...That was worse! Oh god. Now he probably sounded like a pervert.
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He was in a dark closet. Nothing lost or gained looking unkempt. It might even look convincing on the way out, not that he wanted to add to the embarrassment. But being ribbed for it could be embarrassing too.
Whatever! As long as no one hassled Asahi, he'd take it and shrug it off. It's not like the next two people weren't going to go through the same thing, and Yū was definitely going to laugh at them too, or maybe congratulate them if one of the guys actually got to spend the time with a cute girl.
Reclined back against the wall, Yū stretched out his legs, not too big of a feet sitting up in a coat closet, though he did brush up against what felt like one of Asahi's knees. Of course he couldn't manage it without bending his legs; there wasn't that kind of room in here.
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Well. Not always. But Asahi still sputtered at his last one, nonetheless. Realistically, it wouldn't; and that was fine! That was normal. If anything, it was the wing spiker who wasn't, for noticing it the way that he did. But that situation -- top-to-bottom, inside and out, everything about it -- was already completely hopeless. And that was long before they got locked in a closet together with the presumption that they'd somehow manage to find each other in this darkness to make out.
He was still the only one flinching at their haphazard contact in the dark, after all. Was that his ankle? His thigh? Asahi couldn't tell. It was like being locked in a sensory deprivation tank with his greatest fears.
"I-it wouldn't," he managed finally, though it didn't sound nearly as much like an answer as it did another question.
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Yū had tried to make him comfortable with the situation, as comfortable as could be expected anyway, having him sit down and out of the way of the clingy hangers and annoying coats, talking to him through the possibly unnerving shadowy darkness, keeping things light so he wouldn't feel any pressure, trying to minimize any embarrassment by just being there, being a friend.
His job on the court was to keep the ball in play, and to take risks when accidents happened, giving the team hope, another chance, and he loved that part, being able to defy gravity by throwing himself into any situation and pushing the limits of his own body. Sure, it was rough, but he could do it and he would as long as he could because he wanted to win, and more than that, he wanted to play, for as long as possible.
Yū was inherently the same person off the court, loud and enthusiastic and ready for anything. Asahi could spike a ball practically into the next stratosphere, which was awesome, but plunk him in a closet with his underclassman teammate and, where did all that power go? That would be a good question to ask, but he really hadn't expected any different.
Maybe a little less jittery Asahi. "Come on," he said, with an elbow shove.
"I don't mind it."
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...And that's deeply unsettling.
Why now more than usual, he wasn't quite sure. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that every other time they've been this close, it'd been for a purpose. An innocuous one. Also, it'd come with a distraction -- namely, volleyball.
Was it too late, too awkward to strike up a conversation about that now? Did it really matter, so long as it took his mind off of everything else? Like the way their legs were still brushing, and--...
Nishinoya didn't mind that. So that meant--...
Wait. What did that mean? Most likely nothing. Probably that Asahi should continue to change the topic back to something safe, as he'd planned. But what could he say to the libero that would be conversation-worthy? After all, they played together on the same team so there wasn't really anything to discuss that the other didn't already know. But as he could hear the sound of Nishinoya's breathing -- just barely, over his own thudding heartbeat -- in the silence that ensued, he knew the time had come to make a desperate attempt before things got worse.
"So, uh..." off to a great start so far, Asahi. “...are you... excited for our next match?"
The floor could feel free to swallow the wing spiker at any moment now. Please.
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He knew better than to turn the question around, though he figured Asahi had to look forward playing now too, but there might be equal parts nervousness and creeping doubts, though he'd sure do his best to chase those away during practice and on the big day, before the older boy put on his game face, which was really cool to watch, like seeing him live up to his potential with every spike and serve, all the strength his larger frame promised coming to fruition.
Asahi was awesome, even if he had a wimpy side that showed up
mosta lot of the time."Are you worried about the game?" It occurred to him suddenly, wondering if that had something to do with why he was acting so unnerved and standoffish. "Or is it because we're supposed to be kissing right now?"
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Unfortunately, that didn't last long.
The first part of the follow-up was fine; it was what came after that shattered an only newly-regained calm. Things would've gone better for him, he imagined, if that one little segment of speech -- "we're supposed to be kissing" -- wasn't looping in his head over and over like a short song with the repeat button stuck.
"Well, ah..." Asahi twined a hand up to scratch at the back of his head, little bun of brown hair bobbing with that effort. It's the game -- the game that's got him so on edge, remember? He had to remind himself again. Then, this shouldn't be that hard of an answer, right? Right. "T-they say they're really good this year..." By that he meant the team -- not the kisses.
Though, on that thought, he couldn't help but ask himself just how good the latter would be. Would they be soft and tenuous? Not likely, even if they happened to be the libero's first, (Asahi couldn't say). If he had to guess, he'd say surely they had to be like his play style: Passionate, reckless, impulsive....
He really wasn't doing himself any favors, here. Closing his eyes a moment, the wing spiker forced himself to swallow so painfully, so loudly he'd swear Nishinoya could hear it.
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"I had no idea!" Of course Asahi ticked off all the tall, dark, and handsome boxes, so it's no big surprise that he would be popular, and being an ace of the team and a third year to boot, he had age and experience on his side, but if he had been kissing all of the girls, painfully shy and scared as he is, then Yū definitely needed tips from his senpai. It was only fair to share these things!
"I'll treat you to a week worth of popsicles -- I-I mean, you don't have to give me names or anything, but tell me how you did it! No wait, no wait. Don't tell me. Did they see you practicing? Did they see you spike a ball? I bet that was it, right?! You didn't want to, but they insisted because they thought it'd be hot to see you play, and then you were like 'WHACK!' and 'BOOSH!' Then they were blushing and giggling and you went in for the shot, right?"
He's talking faster than he can run, which is saying a lot, face flushed and eyes gleaming, even if it's all a wash in the shadows.
"How many girls did you kiss, Asahi-san?"
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Wait a second -- how did they get onto this topic? Weren’t they just talking about their next opponents? He’d wanted to cut Nishinoya off as soon as it became apparent they’d somehow got sidetracked, but he couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Of course, that only paved the way for things to get progressively more embarrassing, and Asahi had already been a quivering mass of a man before the final question came down.
At that, his hands waved frantically in the dark at no one in particular, (obviously), a force of habit. The little libero could probably feel the gesture all the same, pressed in as close as he was. Honestly, he might be able to hear the hastened slam of Asahi’s heart against his ribs from that distance, too.
His voice wavered unsteadily at first, and then quieted markedly. “N-Nishinoya, you’ve got it all wrong!”
He’d never do a thing like that! Seriously, did they all think he was some secret pervert or something? (It’s the goatee, isn’t it...? Well, too bad -- he’s not shaving it. Or cutting his hair, for that matter. He likes the way he looks, even if it has its pros and cons.)
“I’ve never kissed anyone!”
Maybe a bit too much information, perhaps; but, too late now....
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Noya would do the same in a heartbeat, for sure. He knew a few things, but Asahi probably knew more. No need to let embarrassment ruin this perfect opportunity. No one else had to know!
"Your favorite ice cream, then! How about that? My treat!" He wondered if the shyness was a selling point. Hmmm. If so, then Noya had been going about it all wrong, but it's not like he could really tone back his personality, especially in a pinch, when excitement invariably won out and well, he kind of made an ass of himself rushing and fawning over girls, but it was worth it if they were even a little receptive.
"Asahi-san!" he punctuated the request, palms splayed together in a praying motion for good measure, though again the gesture was kind of lost by the lack of light.
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"I-I mean it..." he reiterated, voice growing quieter as embarrassment mounted. While it didn't consciously bother him more often than not, he was eighteen! Surely he should have some notable achievements in his young and budding love-life by now, right? And yet, he hadn't a one. Not a single thing to speak of. Even so much as brushing hands with a girl had only led to not just one, but both of them flinching away sharply, exchanging awkward apologies -- never anything more. He couldn't even say why, either; just that it'd never happened.
"...I've never been kissed."
If the floor of the closet could just swallow him up now, this would be a pretty opportune time.
no subject
Anyway, back to the matter at hand--
So Noya blinks, his fast-turning gears stalling out at the repeated reply. It just took coming against the same wall twice for him to actually hear and consider what Asahi was saying.
But how could he believe that?
Asahi had never been kissed? Really?
That didn't bode well for anyone else. Man, maybe girls at their school were even more a challenge than he knew, if that was the case...
Noya sinks back on his heels, some animation finally returning to his face before he appears oddly sober (or he would, if he could be seen).
"Bull shit," he swears under his breath. It's not because he thinks Asahi is lying, OK. It's the sheer magnitude, the injustice, the startling fact that all of these possible girls hadn't given Asahi a chance. They thought they were too good or maybe they were distracted by book types or cool assholes who couldn't hold a candle to this guy on a bad day!
Girls were stupid and fickle if they hadn't at least tried to throw themselves at Asahi by now.
He hadn't said that there were missed opportunities or not, just that it hadn't happened, but Noya is going to assume the latter because surely Asahi wouldn't pass up on a good thing, even if he was kind of wimpy under pressure. Kissing girls was a big deal, and he probably wouldn't sound half as deflated if he'd at least been pursued.
"I don't get it. What are they waiting for?" A model? College guys? There was real indignation in his voice before Noya shifted his attention from berating these faceless girls to trying to encourage Asahi, not wanting to let something like this bring him down.
"Don't worry about it, Asahi-san!"
no subject
Maybe there was something driving them away. He couldn't quite be sure. Either way, it didn't bother him nearly as much then as it actively did now, hearing it from Nishinoya. Face mentally in hands, his fingers slid back up into his pulled-back messy mop of brown locks as he made another unsure sound of acknowledgement that wavered pathetically.
What seemed to compound everything, driving the metaphorical stake in deeper, was the undeniable voice in some far-off, distant, unacknowledged corner of his mind asking what the libero was waiting for. The answer? Nothing. Nishinoya was straight as could be -- Asahi had seen it himself ad nauseam, just in the way he and Tanaka jointly pined for the affections of their lovely Kiyoko. He was far past the point of being crestfallen over it; of looking back at his tiny teammate with squashed hope, longing to be seen by him as something other than The Ace.
But maybe his teammates weren't. And that would explain everything.
"I-I'm not, really," he answered, waving a dismissive hand in the dark meekly. "When it happens, it happens." Though he supposed it'd start being plausible if he could take interest in someone other than the one next to him.
no subject
He makes the move when no one else can, and he's always been enthusiastic about supporting their ace, helping within the limitations of a libero to bring out the best in Asahi, to help them score.
Of course he knows you don't win by being complacent. You try and try again. There's nothing worse than not trying, than giving up, and Asahi should be more than familiar with that by now, exactly how Noya feels.
It's no different like this. Stupid girls are trying to bring Asahi-down, to quell his fighting spirit and make the big guy feel small.
Well, that's not going to happen! Not on his watch.
"I'll kiss you," Noya said, in a heated fit of passion. Not the lust-filled kind, mind, but with his typical determination to see a play through, to do his best no matter how hard it might be, no matter what happens next.
They might as well, with no one looking. He's already leaning up on his knees, forward movement only waiting for Asahi's consent.
no subject
Game over. Asahi Azumane has died. Cause of death? Three words: I’ll kiss you. Nice kill, Nishinoya.
Seriously. He couldn’t feel his heartbeat anymore; wasn’t sure if he was breathing at all. Spoilers -- he wasn’t, as he found out once his windpipe started to burn, head swimming dizzily. It took thumping on his own chest to get him to restart, in fact; and then the air he’d selfishly hung onto came rushing out of him in a flood that nearly had him lapsing into coughing. He managed to stifle that, thankfully -- one small blessing in all this.
But the silence that settled in after wasn’t an acceptable reply this time. Not for that.
What should he say? That he doesn’t want to? No; he said he’d never lie to Nishinoya again, (and had half a mind to think he’d be found out if he did). At the same time, he couldn’t just consent without a fight -- that’d make him seem too eager!
...Despite the fact that he was, secretly, in his heart of hearts. His own was back and speeding out of control in sheer terror at being so close to something he’d never admit he’d pathetically, childishly thought about before. Would it be like he’d imagined? Would Noya place tiny hands on the ace’s stubbled cheeks and pour all the fire he had on the court into their meeting? Or would it be something awkward and hasty instead?
All at once, Asahi was intensely grateful for the pitch blackness of the closet they shared. At least that way, the libero wouldn’t see the tremendous flood of bright pink on his cheeks, even if he could hear the wing spiker’s forced, dry swallow.
“A-aah... N-Nishinoya, you don’t have to do that, r-really...” he sputtered.
That would have to do. And if Nishinoya took offense, then--...
...On second thought, maybe it’d be best if Asahi just didn’t think about that right now.
no subject
It's more than that! Asahi can't graduate without having been kissed, simple as that. If he'd found himself right here with someone else, they might have done the same. Maybe. Or it could have been another missed opportunity because Asahi is shy and he would never ask, but Noya isn't and when he left an opening for Asahi to say no, he didn't. That stuttered answer reads more as an I'm okay with it if you're okay.
He's okay, at least right now. Later he might run around to burn off a hot face and disbelief at himself for offering to kiss his teammate, his upperclassman, a guy. But right now it feels like the right thing to do, something he needs to do to help Asahi get through that rite of passage and get past his first kiss. Next time it won't be such a big deal, which for a wimpy personality like Asahi, has to be a good thing, right? Less pressure, less expectation.
Noya isn't sure how long it's been, but it has to be close to time. And it's probably better to just go for it before he changes his mind, before Asahi can work his way up to a real protest, so he follows through with his upward lean on his knees, reaching out in the darkness to brush a shoulder and approximating where Asahi's face would be, grazing an ear. Then Noya rushed up with the same forward momentum with which he would have dove down to the floor to stop the ball, with reckless abandon and focused intent, barely time enough to catch the tickle of warmth breath (which confirmed he'd aimed right) before he'd flattened his mouth out flush against Asahi's, fingers hooking behind the taller boy's ear and against his hair, urging him down.
no subject
The darkness here, luckily enough, kept a lot of them for him -- better than he himself ever could. It’s thanks to that that the wing spiker didn’t see what ended up coming for him a moment later. His only warning was a small touch to his shoulder that nearly made him jump, then to his ear, and then--...
...
...was this real life? Asahi had to wonder. If it wasn’t, that would explain a lot. But if it was, then those were Nishinoya’s lips pressed against his own with every ounce of fire and intensity the ace could have ever imagined them holding, kissing him fiercely. If that wasn’t enough, those tiny hands that never failed to get between the ball and the court to connect them were at his hair as well, gently urging him down as though he was wanted.
It not just unbelievable, it’s impossible. But--...
Okay, first he had to remember to breathe -- and he did so, through his nose. But no sooner than that, his body was screaming at him: Move! Do something! So his hands feebly, shakily pushed forward, blindly finding Nishinoya’s chest at first before slipping around to his sides to rigidly hold him like a preteen on a first slow dance desperately trying to do it right for the person they liked.
Perhaps that was the perfect metaphor, in fact.
no subject
But it's OK this time because Noya already knows his secret and he's the last person who's going to tease him for not knowing where to place his hands or the few seconds where he forgot to breathe, or even the part where he's not actively kissing back. Well, he is a guy and as far as proper motivation goes, even without being able to see, he doesn't actually blame Asahi for not being all that into it.
Even if he doesn't have the right motivation, at least he's trying. And Noya has his own driving force, determined to do this right, to show Asahi how easy it can be. Getting past the initiation is probably the hardest part anyway! Some girls, OK, a lot of girls make it hard and don't take guys like him seriously, but Asahi has charm and good looks and an endearing personality on his side, so the set up shouldn't be as tricky. So, willing girl out of the way, he just needs to go about it right, and Noya makes a humming sound of satisfaction, as close to verbal praise as he can offer at the moment when Asahi leans down and tries to play along, making it easier on him in the meantime, not having to lean up so much to reach his mouth.
Of course the next part will probably depend entirely on the girl - and the mood, but if it's Asahi then Noya sees no reason why he shouldn't be able to push him luck! He might have to find someone tall enough or at least make sure to lean down and angle his frame right to begin with, but if the kiss is still going after the first few seconds, after the first introduction of grazing lips, then Noya saw no reason not to deepen it, though his face is burning at the idea of even trying to stick his tongue anywhere near Asahi's mouth and there's a sudden wave of nervous energy he totally wasn't expecting when he went for the impulsive kiss, but he's annoyed by it just as much and somewhere along the way he ends up closing his teeth around Asahi's lower lip instead, meaning to bite his own.
gdi I have the perfect icon for this but I can't upload it because work laptop. :|
...who was he kidding? Honestly, even if he nailed it like a no-touch ace on opening serve, he’d still probably never get another shot. Nishinoya was straight, was convinced his ace was the same, and this? This was him trying to do his good friend a favor; taking one for the team, so to speak, as the libero was so well-known for and so willing to do without thought. Thinking about it that way was depressing, yes, but Asahi couldn’t delude himself into believing anything else.
Karasuno’s small-but-mighty libero would never know that while he was thinking about kissing girls, Asahi Azumane was thinking about kissing him. Despite its obvious shortcomings, that’s what made this moment something unbelievable; something the third-year would engrave into his mind secretly, never telling a soul about, (no matter how Sugawara wheedled!), yet never forgetting.
Still, it took right up until the very second before that appreciative little sound for the wing spiker to figure out he wasn’t actively kissing back, and correct himself. At that point, the noise seemed proper praise, (even if it wasn’t), and bolstered him just the tiniest bit, forcing away some of the near-painful rigidity in his form. Maybe, he thought, if he slipped his hands just a little further back, he could hold Nishinoya properly rather than stiffly at arm’s length. He gave it a shot -- and that felt much more natural; a lot less like that awkward preteen at the homecoming dance and more like... perhaps a high school first-year at a spring festival. Still, it’s an improvement -- even if it’s in baby steps.
But then, he consciously reminded himself to breathe again, anxiety spiking sharply when he felt the libero’s mouth move against his own. Was that it? Was their moment over...? Reflexively, he found himself giving chase to a small degree, angling in, not wanting it to be over just yet when--...
...Asahi sucked in a sharp little gasp at the sensation of teeth at his lower lip, jerking away fractionally at the sudden bite that was more startling than painful. Was that... how this kind of thing was supposed to go? Or was that Nishinoya telling him the fun was over, time to back off? It was hard to say; but the last thing the ace wanted was to overstep his bounds and destroy a friendship that meant the world to him. In the interest of preserving that, he pulled away the slightest bit, leaving their upper lips still brushing, noses nestled against one another as he waited on pins and needles for a sign.
yeaaah :| downside of being sneaky at work
Maybe if Asahi had been the one to recoil and start the process, Noya definitely would have followed suit with the laugh and the smack and the hasty I'm sorry, flushed and flustered and trying to pretend he wasn't, of course.
But Asahi doesn't draw back, not enough to break out of it, and Noya sucks in a kind of startled breath when he doesn't, because he figures the older boy has to be at least as embarrassed as he is, if not more, and Asahi usually isn't subtle about it when he is. Maybe it's the comfort of the shadows, finally lending him a boost of courage, or maybe he's sincerely investing himself in the practice, trying to do his best, in which case -- how can Noya stop short and disappoint him if he's even willing to push past the natural reserve to give it his all?
It surprised him, but he found a new burst of admiration for Asahi because of it, more than his already really high esteem for the older boy.
Just like their Ace!
If he wasn't still almost mouth to mouth (and cheeks still burning up with heat), he might have grinned, but Noya's eyes shine even through the fluster, thinking maybe he doesn't need to apologize for the slip if Asahi is willing to overlook it and play along. He's not entirely sure what to do next, which is off-putting because he's usually pretty quick on his feet, but animated conversation and enthusiastic plays on the court aren't exactly the same as offering impromptu kissing instruction, and it's not like he's the most qualified, though if it meant kissing girls more often, Noya would certainly devote his passion to the new pursuit!
And if it helps Asahi gain confidence, then it's worth focusing and regrouping and trying to figure out where to go from here, sidestepping the jittery praise and apology. At least he can still feel where Asahi's mouth is in proximity to his, drawing in another soft breath as he feels the tickle of Asahi's breath against his open mouth, thinking that's even more embarrassing than the kiss in a way and he's suddenly grateful they are in a closet in the dark, or it'd be that much more embarrassing.
OK, OK. Focus. You got this. It's just a 'mmm, ahhh, and a hrrrm', no big deal. Following his own mental lead, Noya leaned back in, remembering to tilt upward, fitting his mouth once more against Asahi's, giving over the height advantage to him, not so bothered about that when it came to this because Asahi needed to know how to lead, right? Only this time, Noya parted his lips beneath the other boy's, tongue sliding out, passing over the spot he'd clamped down on before tentatively trying to ease inside, bracing himself for a wave of panic from Asahi. Even if that happened, he was already proud of him for trying, for sticking it out this far, and he was doing pretty good!
Before Noya accidentally bit Asahi's lip instead of his own, it was actually... kind of nice, even though he was kissing a guy, and he could feel the scratch of facial hair and yeah, that should probably gross him out, as much as kissing a guy should, in theory, but, that never really settles in and takes shape. There's no disgust for his part, and it's not just because he's equally invested in helping a friend, though he's trying to focus on that rather than reading too much into it.
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And if there'd been so much as a lingering inkling about that hanging around the darkest, most distant corners of his mind, it was gone with the addition of a clever, coy little tongue passing over the spot the libero had just incidentally, (he presumes), bitten down on. It's a strange feeling; personal and intimate without being invasive, even as it dared to dip inside, passing the threshold of the wing spiker's lips without contest.
Normally, this would be the point where everything came to a screeching halt as Asahi backed away, timid and unsure of how to handle such a bold approach. But he couldn't focus on technique anymore; not with his mind yelling at him about this being Nishinoya pressing their lips together of his own volition for a second time, diving deeper than the first. In a way, that was exactly what he needed, too -- had he had the wherewithal left to associate one fact with the other, he likely would have stumbled by this point, accidentally killing the moment and ruining his chance at what they're sharing now. It was like all those dreams where someone was flying, soaring high in the air until they looked down.
If Asahi looked down now, he had no doubt the metaphorical pavement would willingly rise up to punch him right in the face. But, for better and worse, he couldn't.
Better, on account of the willingness it gave him; that desire to please and succeed so often seen on the court coming into play in the timid tongue that only barely slipped out to meet another like it, true to the tenuousness of the ace in its response. And worse in that the knowledge that this was his long-standing crush kissing him could only bring about more hidden, lust-filled thoughts that every teenage boy had had by now -- Asahi Azumane was no exception to the rule. He wanted to pull Nishinoya closer and feel that agile, athletic body against him, so small in contrast to his own; to feel nimble hands tangle in his hair, pulling it from the bands that held it back to be combed through. Or even pulled, for that matter -- he wouldn't complain, either way. The little libero could do as he pleased, and it would all feel good just for being from him.
But that was where Asahi stopped himself short, unconsciously breathing out during their kiss as a wave of heat shot through him and sank into the pit of his belly. He knew what that meant; and it didn't lead to anything useful. Only more embarrassment, perhaps, as the rest of their team eventually flung that door open to find their ace half-erect over a silly, friendly kiss.
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At this point, it just felt good, pure and simple, and Asahi wasn't the only one whose body registered that with a flood of warmth and rush of pleasure. The only difference was that, where it might have given Asahi pause, naturally it only encouraged Noya in his pursuit.
It was instinct, just like diving down towards a sinking ball fast rushing for the floor. What had started as a series of exploring kisses had shifted into something more fierce the moment Asahi had started kissing him back, the tentative brush of his tongue against his. He could have sat there awkwardly, not knowing what to do, and the weird feeling of a still body frozen with indecision, not sure how to respond probably would have ended things for Noya. He might be on a mission, but he also knows how to take a hint and if it was really too much for Asahi, he wasn't to push. He wasn't that kind of guy.
It wasn't that important, not important enough to force Asahi into doing something he didn't want to do.
But that's not the case, is it? Noya has done enough that at least Asahi isn't repulsed, and he finds the nerve to slowly return the kiss, easing into it with curiosity. And he'll only get better with experience, Noya feels sure! He'll be kissing all of the cute girls before long, and maybe next time he'll even be bold and take the lead.
It's kind of hard to imagine now, but he's still rooting for Asahi.
Technically, his job is done, Asahi's first - and second kiss dispensed with. Noya could be satisfied with that and scoot away, ride out the remaining time they had left in this closet, happy to have made a difference. And he could still, but the fact that the kissing had a purpose doesn't detract from the potential for getting carried away, and honestly knowing their time is short only pushes him into overdrive. No one likes to give up a good thing too soon, and he doesn't miss the flutter of Asahi's breath against his mouth, possibly a sign that he means to withdraw. He's not ready for that!
Noya steals a quick breath through his nose before pressing for another kiss, shifting the angle of his face while rushing in once more to meet Asahi's (presumably) retreating mouth, giving it all he's got this time. The first two were just practice runs, right? This time it's the real thing. This time Noya kisses Asahi exactly like he wants to, because he wants to, parting his lips for Asahi to make his move while leaning his upper body into the solid wall of the other boy's torso, not going easy on him in the final stretch. He rushed towards Asahi and wound his arms around his broad shoulders, clasping his neck like he's taking away his escape route, and it might look just like that, but again, it's more the dictates of his body, the result of his own eagerness, capitalizing on the heat of excitement while he still can, before time runs out or Asahi freaks out, whichever comes first.
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When he'd thought things were over, suddenly Nishinoya was pressed against him instead and Asahi could feel his heartbeat kick up two, three, maybe five notches at the sensation, the body of that little libero so close he could nearly feel the electric sort of energy humming through it. The first kiss was one thing; a stroke of good fortune, he'd say, just happening to be a victim of circumstance and the object of pity. The second could easily be written off as supplementary to the original; a sort of extra credit exam. Or maybe a second class entirely, additional to the Kissing 101 that was their first meeting. But this...
He wanted desperately to believe it was purposeful; done not out of sympathy or harmless experimentation or teaching, but there was no way it could be, right? Not unless--...
...Did he know that this was all the ace had wanted? Could Nishinoya somehow read it in his body language; the way he kissed? It was possible, he supposed. Asahi had never been good with keeping secrets, after all. He was a terrible liar; most of all when it came to this one specific teammate of his. More likely, however, was that this was merely the final exam -- the culmination of everything the libero had taught him in their session, put together in one smooth and fluid action that felt so seamless, so right that the taller shivered despite himself.
That was believable; a palatable answer for Asahi. Still, it meant that he needed to respond in earnest no less, if only the make the metaphorical grade. While he could never be who and what Nishinoya wanted, he wasn't going to let his guardian deity down a second time, either. Lips parted pliantly against his own, and the ace took that as a cue to tenuously flick barely the tip of his tongue along the bottom of them at first before gingerly dipping in, the seemingly brazenness of his actions making the hair on his arms stand at attention.
...If only that was the only thing that did.
And that was why, when arms coiled around Nishinoya's slender waist, hands greedily roaming the curve of the small of his back. Asahi felt the need to curb himself somehow; to hold back despite his mind's continued excited mantra of It's Nishinoya; this is Nishinoya! in his own head. He couldn't let himself get too carried away, should their bodies meld and the libero expose his ace's deepest, darkest secret purely by haphazard. That would only result in disaster.
Lest he forget, this was all still just a favor from a dear friend, after all.
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If there was no reason to stop, then naturally, he would keep on going because he had gooseflesh tickling down his forearms at the way large hands moved down his back through his t-shirt, holding him in a way that might be insulting for a guy, if he thought too much into it, if he cared, but since he wasn't, since he didn't, it felt like encouragement, it felt like the go ahead he was looking for, just like Asahi kissing him back, tentatively, gently, unobtrusively, but there all the same.
When it came to Noya, he didn't miss the little things and when it came to Asahi, he thrilled to the chance of hearing him loud and clear, actually asserting himself, and in its way, this was exactly that, bold and decisive and undeniable. He couldn't stop short when Asahi was trying so hard.
It wasn't a drill, not anymore. It wasn't a test. It was a pleasant exchange, surpassing Noya's expectations, easy to get caught up in and now he was taking it seriously too, leaning into Asahi in spite of his lean back, taking that as a nod to follow rather than a bid to escape, figuring Asahi is only making space for him in the cramped quarters of the closet. Noya slides forward, strong legs bracing Asahi's hips as he plunges his tongue inside, tangling with Asahi's, forgetting the need to tread lightly. His knees squeezed as the tension thrummed through him, an electric current of want that raced through his small frame, making him shiver, a tangible tremor that had more to do with excitement than nerves and he should probably feel embarrassed by that, but it's OK because it's Asahi, and he's not going to judge him, hopefully, for acting like an idiot, or for the sounds that slip past his lips, ending up a swallowed groan as he kisses Asahi, chest pinched with limited air supply and restless need, coiled tight.
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All of the libero’s own volition, too. Somehow, for some reason that the ace could no longer convince himself was a final exam or an act of pity, his teammate had moved closer, pressed the two of them together. And Asahi was already seeing stars, burning up with embarrassment over his own level of want as their tongues tangled in an intimate dance. The muted, trapped groan from Nishinoya did absolutely nothing to abate it, sending the taller into a shiver that jostled him noticeably, echoing right down to--...
Oh boy. Not good. Not. Good. Alarm bells were sounding in the taller player’s head, knowing their proximity didn’t allow for secrets to be kept -- especially not ones of this size. But what could he do, push the little libero back? Not an option. While he might not have wanted Nishinoya to know exactly how badly he was desired, the only thing worse than that possible outcome was leading him to believe he wasn’t at all.
Nothing could be further from the truth, of course! But Asahi found himself stiffening, straightening, trying to ease his hips back away from his teammate while still kissing him just as eagerly. It’d make for an awkward position, but when times were desperate....