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This was it - the moment of truth. Denki had practiced the words over and over in the mirror, having done his best to still the way his hands shook. Even worse, his nerves had blown out several bulbs in the process. Would Hitoshi still be his friend after this? He had made the mistake of voicing the question to his friends who, after a moment of silence, had broken it with variations of “no” that had barely soothed his fears.
Perhaps the most effective had been Katsuki’s frustrated, “God, I hope not!”
A gentle touch on his shoulder brought him back to the present. Electricity shot from his hair with such force that his ceiling fan flickered and spun. Embarrassed, Denki focused back on the boy in front of him. Damn it. What was he doing? He couldn’t fuck things up between them like this. His gaze fell away from Hitoshi’s face in shame.
“Sorry, I, uh-”
Hitoshi’s right hand came down solidly into his open left palm. Obediently, Denki shut his mouth and looked directly at him. With clear irritation, he continued to sign. He traced around his neckline with a frown, used his right hand to grab air from his left palm and then drop that air beside it, and pointed at Denki.
That was... Okay. He had this. Denki imitated the signs, his nose scrunched up in a way that’d had Hitoshi signing “cute” every time he did it. Once he was sure he had it, he repeated it back to Hitoshi.
“You want to take off my necklace?” Denki asked in confusion.
Hitoshi sighed, and pointed at Denki again. Oh.
“Why do you want me to take off my necklace?”
Right palm to his chest, Hitoshi made circular motions coupled with a pathetic expression.
It never took much for Denki to crumble, and today was no exception. He had not only been completely derailed from his original objective in Hitoshi’s visit, but was now doing the one thing that Mina had made him swear he’d never ever do. He’d even pinky-promised. Denki maintained eye contact with Hitoshi - who, to his credit, looked like a cat who’d caught the canary - and took the necklace off. Without the weight of it around his neck, he would almost dare to say he felt exposed.
It didn’t last for long.
The moment he’d set the necklace aside, Hitoshi was in his face. Denki’s brain didn’t work well enough to even cause him to flinch back at the close proximity, the first thing to short circuit before Hitoshi’s lips were on his. His eyes closed, and something popped to his left. Not that it mattered; his fingers had found the collar of Hitoshi’s shirt, and there was a hand on his hip, and everything was hot-
Too hot. Something had burnt, he could smell it. Denki felt Hitoshi laugh against his mouth before he pulled back, and all he could do was fall backwards onto the floor where they sat. The smoke detector hadn’t gone off, at least, so he counted that as a victory. Hitoshi fell onto the floor beside him, nose in the crook of his neck, and Denki let out a breathy laugh.
“That was my lamp, wasn’t it?”
Hitoshi just tightened his arm around Denki’s waist, and his soft laughter continued to be muffled by his shoulder.
“When you’re done laughing it up at my misfortune, you’re telling my mom what happened. Wait, no, actually don’t do that-”
Denki did not need his mother to know he’d blown another bulb because of Hitoshi. At least he was actually in the room this time. He turned on his side and pressed his lips to Hitoshi’s forehead. He’d pay for it later, but for now it was just nice to feel him laugh.
“Wait!”
He left Hitoshi on the ground with a hurt and confused look on his face, oblivious to Denki’s realization. Satisfied to at least have his attention, he sat up straight and looked Hitoshi in the eye. Denki brought his fingers and thumb together in front of his forehead, followed by tapping his right index finger over the left in front of him and vice-versa. He hesitated at the watery look Hitoshi had given him, made a K sign with his right hand, and motioned between the two of them with it.
Hitoshi sat up, and with two fingers to his lips curled them inwards. Despite the tears in his eyes, he had a grin on his face. Denki couldn’t help but note that he looked as red as he felt.
“I worked hard on that!” Denki complained, the whine in his voice offset by his grin.
Hitoshi touched his fingertips to his cheek, and leaned in to kiss Denki again. This time, he met him halfway. That was the best “yes” he could’ve hoped for.