[ his reaction to a kiss, as it turns out, is not all that different from a fight. the only real difference is how the nerves and anxiety strike: where a fight might make his heart pound incessantly, and his lungs stretch as widely as they can against his ribcage, Yuuta's lips against his own makes Megumi feel as though his organs might stutter and fail from forgetting how to work properly. it's a powerful thing, deceptive in its simplicity. where he thought he would be satisfied with just one, that thought is easily replaced with an immediate desire for more. more kisses, more time, more of both.
a huff of amusement is all he can manage - and even that's a little choked with endeared disbelief - before their lips are touching once more, the feeling of Yuuta's heartbeat against his hand somehow directly influencing to his own until he can swear they're beating together, at the same pace, like a terribly corny development in a drama.
but this green light is all he needs. that, and the calloused hand against his cheek that he already wants to lean into, to give Yuuta all the warmth he deserves. ]
I'm sure.
[ there's no time to be embarrassed by the way his voice has somehow softened and deepened simultaneously, not when his lips are moving, growing in confidence as they glide - clumsy in some ways, like catching where they're both too dry but details like that fade away in the overwhelming growth of his enthusiasm. almost enough to be puppy-like, now that he feels safe enough to unleash his feelings.
but he's still Fushiguro Megumi, with a self-preservation instinct that stretches longer than the sun's distance from the earth, and he doesn't allow his desires to run rampant for too long. (rampant, in this case, is what others would probably still consider reserved.) when he's mustered up enough strength to pull back slowly and gracefully, he does. and probably looks entirely too solemn when he squeezes Yuuta's hand to remind himself this isn't a dream. ]
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a huff of amusement is all he can manage - and even that's a little choked with endeared disbelief - before their lips are touching once more, the feeling of Yuuta's heartbeat against his hand somehow directly influencing to his own until he can swear they're beating together, at the same pace, like a terribly corny development in a drama.
but this green light is all he needs. that, and the calloused hand against his cheek that he already wants to lean into, to give Yuuta all the warmth he deserves. ]
I'm sure.
[ there's no time to be embarrassed by the way his voice has somehow softened and deepened simultaneously, not when his lips are moving, growing in confidence as they glide - clumsy in some ways, like catching where they're both too dry but details like that fade away in the overwhelming growth of his enthusiasm. almost enough to be puppy-like, now that he feels safe enough to unleash his feelings.
but he's still Fushiguro Megumi, with a self-preservation instinct that stretches longer than the sun's distance from the earth, and he doesn't allow his desires to run rampant for too long. (rampant, in this case, is what others would probably still consider reserved.) when he's mustered up enough strength to pull back slowly and gracefully, he does. and probably looks entirely too solemn when he squeezes Yuuta's hand to remind himself this isn't a dream. ]
Senpai. You know how I feel now, right?