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It's not the first time.
It's not the first time he's studied for this seminar.
It's also not the first time he's eaten Doritos until he couldn't type or turn pages without leaving orange fingerprints all over the place.
It is, however, the first time he's ever drunk while studying.
Even this first time being a first time, this aspect wouldn't be a problem....
...if he were alone.
'Oh, you're shitting me!'
Hiding behind the plastic cup filled with wine, Tomo cautiously glances at his study partner.
The glowing rays of the desk lamp meet the gliterring drops of golden fairy lights, enveloping Kazuha's face in a warm glow. It's a yellowy mix of hues, but as long as he can see his study parnert's face, Tomo has no objections whatsoever.
Kazuha has the kind of delicate beauty that Tomo can only liken to the refinement of the geisha of old: medium length silver hair he usually wears in a ponytail, softly contoured features, gentle eyes with of reddish depths, a milky complexion and an undeniable ontic softness.
He continues his peeking while his subject is laughing his head off at a funny video playing on his phone screen.
Oh, he didn't even get to the best part. Beyond Kazuha's physical appearance, beyond the pink hoodie printed with a flaming shamisen, every time he opens his mouth, it becomes clear to Tomo that he won't be able to pay attention to anyone else ever again.
An observation of punctual irony because, as soon as he finishes his thought, he notices his study partner waving a hand half-hidden by his too-long sleeve in Tomo's face:
'Can you hear me? Are you all right? Did the wine finally get to you?'
A laugh rumbles from Tomo's chest along with the answer:
'Uhm, no!? Of course not! Pf, like I've never done this before!'
With a sharp look, Kazuha takes a sip of wine before saying:
'You're definitely not out there at the top, but you're not some punk either so there's nothing you can tell me that proves you usually drink when you study.'
Tomo can bet his study partner is gloating on the inside thanks to the certainty of his words.
Not that he cares much about Kazuha teasing him this time.
Sipping the last few drops of wine, he collects himself and wraps his arm around Kazuha's shoulders, pulling him closer:
'I'm going to ignore that attempt to taint my good name, I'm interested in what amuses you so.'
Kazuha's chuckle unfurls closer than ever next to his ear, oddly sweet and small.
Tomo stares spitefully at the empty glass beside him, blaming his accelerated heartbeat on the wine.
'There was a compliment in there, too! I mean-'
He notices that he had just turned his head to look at him, but suddenly Kazuha is silent, and the only sounds in the room are the remixed sound of the video and their breaths mingling.
He sees the blush in Kazuha's cheeks deepen and wonders if he looks the same. Tomo makes a mental list of all the times he's seen him this close: the time they cheated on the management exam, the time he was checking to see if the eyelash that had fallen on his cornea had disappeared, the time they were comparing heights and Kazuha kept standing on his tiptoes, Kazuha approaching, already snorting with laughter, to tell him a joke, Kazuha smelling his perfume only to conclude that he smelled like 'socks in a vase', Kazuha-
'Zuha?'
He gives himself a methaphorical pat on the back, proud of how he's really taken the lead on this conversation, and, weirdly so, Kazuha's shiver makes him feel even prouder.
He clears his throat, glancing to the side, and Tomo cusses to himself because he's lost count of Kazuha's eyelashes.
'Ah...um...never mind. We've really gone off track from this...what do you call it...study session.
Tomo, seemingly guided by an inner voice fueled only by Kazuha's presence, tightens his arm's grip around his shoulders.
The trembling in Kazuha's body is pleasant for the both of them.
Kazuha's phone screen has locked automatically which means the only sounds are now coming from the two of them.
If only his heart wasn't pounding so hard in his ears, in his chest, in his head, in every sandy hairstrands, in the scar of his nose, the he got from kendo, virtually everywhere!
'...so cute.'
...better to keep beating louder than to stop, even if just for a brief moment.
Kazuha is deadly silent, but has his palm on Tomo's hand around his shoulders.
-...come again?
The knot in Tomo's throat is made of wine glazed Doritos.
'You're cute. And it might be the wine talking, but I'm feeling like...like I wanna...make out...maybe? With uhm...with you.'
He feels every spoken word like a brick he's adding to the wall of the building he's building himself into.
'..with...me?'
Taking advantage of the fact that they're sitting on the carpeted floor and leaning against the bed, Tomo lets his head drop to the duvet, letting out an uncertain yelp.
'Y-yes?'
His whole body is numb, all his senses connected to one stimulus and one stimulus only: Kazuha.
As attentive as he is, he still find himself unprepared for what follows: Kazuha suddenly rises, sitting awkwardly but decidedly on his lap, palms pressed against Tomo's chest.
He wishes his last meal had been something else, not damn taco-flavored Doritos.
Who...who makes taco-flavored chips, a taco is a taco, and chips are-
'Tomo... are you serious?'
'Yes, I want to marry you' he wants to reply because he has reached the highest point of sensory desperation, such a peak of bodily and soul desire for the being in front of him that the only solution that would make sense would be marriage.
While catching up with his thoughts, he nods, touching his trembling hands to Kazuha's shoulders, enjoying their roundness in the cupping of his palms.
He can't read the expression on Kazuha's face, but the it definitely climbs up to the top until it becomes his favorite: a mixture of lust, affection and awe that warms Tomo's body all over.
'T-Tomo...listen, I...I...for the longest time...but now...let this not be just the wine...I...ah, I'm Kazuha...Kaedehara, that is...let's not...let's not have any confusion...I-'
He hoped that this 'Kaedehara Kazuha that is' would forgive him at some point in the near future for he kisses his lips to his as he presses Kazuha's body into his.
A wet, almighty satisfaction floods him as Kazuha leans against him fully, clutching the fabric of the grey hoodie between his fingers and moaning shyly but steadily in divine ways that Tomo could never have imagined.