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Yosuke timidly guides Yu down onto the sofa, arms braced on either side of him. A tentative hand rises to brush against the curvature of Yu’s cheek, fingertips pressing into the soft skin. He draws gentle lines along the contours of his cheekbones, the bow of his lips, the slope of his neck. The hand shivered fearfully in its wake, and yet reverently all the same, as though the act was sacred, and Yosuke was unsure if he’s worthy of it.
Where Yosuke’s hands roam, Yu feels heat prickling his skin, almost like standing a breath away from the warm, unpredictable embers of an open fire.
Yosuke’s hands stilled in mid-air the moment Yu dared to make eye contact, his thumb hovering just shy of tracing the arch of Yu’s collarbone, which peeked enticingly beneath his usually undone collar. Temptation pricks at the tips of Yosuke’s fingers, even so, fear overpowers his want.
“Sorry,” the boy whispered carefully, ducking his head low to conceal his flustered expression. He seemed ashamed, shy even, Yu observes. “I’ve never felt this way about someone… and ugh…I don’t know! Yu… I feel stupid for being afraid of touching you. Like… at the end of the day, you’re still my best friend, right? Even though we’re…” His voice grows taut as he continues on, a string stretched to its limits, and the octave of his speech softens into an embarrassed murmur.
Yosuke ruffles his hair, fingers harshly pulling at the tufts, his gaze set firmly downward. “You know…” He squeaks out.
Yu stays silent, as Yosuke seemed to have much, much more to let off his chest. His heart pulls in anticipation of what Yosuke might say, a trapped bird fluttering beneath the cage of his ribs.
“I just wanna hold your hand walking home, hug you, k-kiss you…” Yosuke clutches at the fabric of Yu’s shirt, pulling him closer by the shoulders. “But.. I.. I’m freaking out about it! What the hell is that!?” He groans, shaking Yu back and forth in misplaced frustration.
Yu’s head spins at the sudden momentum, but Yosuke’s shaking isn’t the sole cause of the burst of dizziness blooming beneath his eyes. Somewhere in his heart, Yu knew he was anxious Yosuke might not want the things he was far too afraid to speak out loud, for fear of overstepping an unspoken boundary. He prepared himself for restraint, for distance. But to hear it now— to have Yosuke communicate his wants, to have him disprove Yu’s admittedly silly assumptions, a fire lights in his chest. No battle won could compare to just how giddy he feels. No shadow crushed could compare to the rush that floods his system, to the butterflies that swarm his gut, to the warmth overtaking his senses.
The realization settles in his chest, and it turns into something light, softer— something like relief. Joy.
He didn’t register that he was smiling until Yosuke looked at him like he grew another head.
“That’s nothing a little exposure therapy can’t fix,” Yu suggests, shooting Yosuke a placid look. “And… This isn’t something you rush, Yosuke. You can take your time with me.” He reaches a hand up to teasingly pull at the skin of Yosuke’s cheek.
Yosuke swats Yu’s hands away in response, furrowing his brows petulantly.
“You say the most embarrassing stuff…” He grumbles beneath his breath, cheeks flushed an obvious bright red. “Yeah… okay. Take my time, huh…”
Yosuke has looked death in the eye time and time again. He's felt his bones crack under the pressure of an especially hard hit from a shadow, and rose to his feet anyway, even in spite of the sharp pain that perturbed his body. He’s fought legitimate gods alongside the Investigation Team— so what’s scary in comparison? What does he have to fear? The warm touch of his partner’s skin? His soft whispers of affection? The fond look in his eyes? The way his body would fall limp in Yosuke’s hands, almost like putty?
His hands press just above Yu’s sternum, feeling the awfully rapid pounding of his heart.
“… Is it really okay to kiss you, Partner?” Yosuke asks cautiously, the look on his face one of skepticism.
Yu doesn’t answer with words.
A curl of a smile adorns his lips, as his steady hands take a hold of Yosuke’s clammy ones. His fingers encircle his knuckles, as his thumb presses down on the swell of Yosuke’s palm. Slowly, deliberately, Yu then guides his hand to his lips, trailing delicate kisses along the length of his fingers.
Yosuke feels a shock travel up his spine, and he’s sure the temperature of the room suddenly spiked several degrees. Sweat slicks his palms as his heart hammers frantically in his chest, pounding so hard he was afraid it might just escape.
He stutters out a gasp, his breath catching in his throat.
“Uh,” Yosuke croaks hoarsely. “W-what the hell, man?”
His mouth usually moves quicker than he’s ever able to think, but this time, Yosuke found himself speechless. He’s not even sure what to say, uncertain what words could possibly communicate the warmth in his chest, the fear that uncurls into a simple need to kiss perfect, pristine Yu Narukami senseless. The need to lean down and kiss Yu until neither of them can think straight.
There really is no singular sentence he could messily wire together, able to summarize the sheer adoration he feels for the boy beneath him.
Yu cocks his head to the side, cheek pressing into the cushion supporting his head. His eyes crinkle in mirth at Yosuke’s reaction, a cheeky grin slowly pulling at his lips.
“Why wouldn’t it be okay to kiss me, Yosuke?” He implores, guiding Yosuke’s fingers along the sharp angles of his cheekbones. Yosuke brushes his thumb along the plush skin, his throat feeling awfully dry as continues following the motion.
“I don’t know,” He stumbles, averting his gaze back and forth. “It just feels… wrong, sometimes. Like…” He leans closer into Yu, pressing his forehead against his. Their breaths mingle in the air, warm and uneven.
“Ugh.. You know what?” Yosuke bites down on his lip, hardening his resolve with a fierce gaze pointed at Yu. “I just have to do it! Face your fears and stuff, right?” He mutters sharply, although there’s no real bite to his words.
Yu smiles, calm and reassured in a way Yosuke just sort of wants to ruin. “That’s one approach,” he states seriously. “So brave,” he teases just after.
“Shut up..,” Yosuke huffs.
He does in fact go quiet, however levels Yosuke with an expectant look. He stares at him with waiting, patient eyes, encouraging Yosuke on with his gaze alone.
Yosuke exhales shakily.
“… Okay,” he whispers to himself more than anything, sucking in a deep breath.
Yosuke’s hands settle on Yu’s cheeks. The angle is awkward, with the sharp point of Yu’s hip digging almost painfully into his stomach and whatnot— but he’s far too nervous to even dare to move a muscle, afraid that even the smallest shift might break whatever fragile courage he managed to gather. Instead, he focuses on Yu, the sensation of him… His skin… soft and velvety, softer than he expected. It reminds him, stupidly, of something he imagined as a kid. What it might feel like to run your fingers through a fluffy, cotton-candy-like cloud. Dumb fantasy that was, when he discovered clouds aren’t tangible.
But Yu is here, in his grasp, warm and solid.
His partner….
Before Yosuke really leans in, he pauses, compelled to take one last, good look. The way Yu’s hair is sprawled messily against the couch pillow, how his lips are parted in anticipation… It’s reassuring knowing not even Yu is immune to embarrassment, considering the evident flush to his cheeks. He’s nervous, just like how Yosuke is, and the fact he’s trembling ever so slightly is an obvious tell.
His grey eyes are lidded over and his breathing is labored and— god— he’s so… so…
“You’re so pretty, partner…” Yosuke murmurs affectionately, cheeks flushing at his own admission. The words slipped out before he could even try to stop them. “I never thought— well, not back then— that I’d think that about a guy, but you really are…” He trails off.
At Yosuke's words, Yu momentarily stills.
The barely there, faint flush on his cheeks burns into a deeper, darker red. His lips move as if he might say something, but they soon close once no words come. Rather, a smile adorns his lips. A “blink and you’ll miss it” sort of smile, shy and appreciative in its nature. A smile that doesn’t quite align with the composure Yu bears so heavily day-by-day. In a wordless response, his fingers curl over Yosuke’s hand, his thumbs absently brushing it in a delicate, tender motion. He strokes in a soothing, unhurried rhythm, slow and careful as he traces along the skin.
Just then is when Yosuke finally takes the plunge, unable to restrain himself any longer.
Hesitantly, he clumsily presses a brief, small kiss to Yu’s lips, which is barely more than just a brush of lips. A comforting warmth overwhelms his senses, but he stubbornly decides then and there a kiss like that just isn’t enough. He surges back forward, swallowing Yu’s gasp as he firmly presses his lips against his, being certain not to smash their teeth together like an idiot. He would rather not have that sort of rom-com moment, thanks.
He tilts his head into the kiss, figuring out how to kiss Yu just right in spite of his inexperience. It’s a bit awkward, neither of them really know what they’re doing, but it’s nice nevertheless. Their lips fit together, so perfectly in a way that makes Yosuke’s thoughts go haywire, making everything else aside from Yu, Yu, Yu feel distant and largely insignificant. His tongue catches the distinct taste of coffee lingering from this morning, the familiar taste doing something strange to his chest.
The kiss deepens once Yu’s hands slide up to cradle the back of Yosuke’s neck. His fingers thread into his hair to pull him impossibly closer, chest-to-chest. Yosuke shivers and his spine straightens instinctively, almost like a trained response.
Emboldened by Yu’s own bravery, Yosuke catches his bottom lip between his teeth in a light, careful nip. He soothes the motion over with his tongue, quelling the sharp ting of pain. Yu lets out a soft, quiet sound, elicited by this action— by Yosuke— and he sounds unmistakably pleased, like if he could help it, he would keep beneath Yosuke forever.
That does something absolutely devastating to Yosuke, as heat flares his senses. It’s sharp and dizzying and Yosuke’s head definitely isn’t screwed on right at this point. If he can get this kind of reaction out of Yu, he would do it as many times as it takes. He wants to hear it again. And again. And again. As many times as Yu might let him—
Yu pulls away.
The kiss is cut short when Yu reluctantly detaches himself from Yosuke. He’s slow to, like he doesn’t want to separate from Yosuke, but unfortunately needs to— taking in account his awfully heavy breathing. His face is somehow flushed an even deeper red, breathing uneven as he desperately attempts to steady it with several sharp inhales.
Yosuke was still wrapping his head around the entire situation. He feels dizzy and his lips are still tingling from the feel of Yu’s pleasant, albeit slightly chapped ones against his. His brain is still caught up with the moment before.
It takes Yu several seconds— seconds that felt like hours— to catch his breath.
“Sorry,” Yu mumbles quietly, breathless. “I couldn’t breathe,” he explains, as a sheepish smile tugs at his lips.
Yosuke offers his own dopey, shy smile. “No worries, man. That’s my bad,” he says, lifting his hand to brush a few strands of Yu’s hair out of his face apologetically.
They linger, closer than ever, as they stare at each other for a prolonged moment, soaking in the afterglow. Both of their breaths steadily even out and their heartbeats fall to a slow, practiced rhythm.
“Uh.” Yosuke begins anxiously, the word catching awkwardly in his throat. His earlier confidence was nowhere to be found. “… Was that okay?” He asks tentatively, a self-conscious lilt to his tone. He’s almost sure of the answer, that Yu enjoyed it just as much, but he asks anyway.
Yu smiles at him again, the skin around his eyes crinkling around the corners in what could only be described as unapologetic joy. He brushes their lips together gently. Quick, light, almost fleeting. It’s over before Yosuke can fully process it, if not for the shy smile Yu wears when he pulls back.
“Yeah,” he answers softly.
“.. Okay,” Yosuke echoes in a small voice, though the grin spreading across his face was anything but.
When he leans in for another go, what felt terrifying wasn’t nearly as scary.