Adult Content Warning
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Summary
Tobio glances up. Akira’s face is half shadowed, painting the left side of his face in darkness. The denim jacket drapes over his shoulders, threatening to fall into a pool on the dusty grey mat under his feet. Tobio leans into the crook of Akira’s neck and inhales, nose brushing against pale collarbones.
Akira smells like lavender body wash, like he smokes a pack of Winston Classic a day, like he belongs to no one but himself.
But Tobio wonders if Akira would give himself to him. Just for a while.