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Nagi Seishiro had never been to the beach.
He’s been to pools, back when his parents held him up by his arms and waded him through ripples that stunk so strongly of chlorine that it hurt his head. He’s felt sand in the form of those tiny sandboxes at playgrounds. He’s been scalded by the sun more times than he can count, skin raw and red and begging for him to go back inside so he can simmer down. He wasn’t a fan of any of it, so he’s never had a reason to ever think the beach could possibly be fun. On the other hand, maybe he shouldn’t be so quick to judge. He had felt the same way about football before he had tried it. He had been so opposed to it, sulking and whining as Reo heaved him onto his back. Reo never minded though, adjusting himself to suit Nagi’s every need and want. He had rubbed Nagi’s back, hands firm and warm against the fabric of his jersey as he told him that there was a first time for everything and that he’d get used to it. But Nagi still made a fuss and Reo still sang his praises. And it paid off, because despite Nagi's resistance, Reo had prodded his way into the forefront of his mind. Maybe it was the fact that Reo saw something in him. Maybe it was the constant praises. Either way, Reo had already managed to cram his way into Nagi's uneventful life and if his company was the payoff, then football wasn’t all that bad.
Now, as frigid water sloshes against the bare skin of his torso while Reo pulls him deeper into the depths, Nagi realizes this is one of those first times. He’ll get used to it after a little bit of Reo’s exposure therapy.
Unfortunately, that sentiment won’t keep him from complaining.
“Cold,” his voice is hardly audible over the slosh of waves. “I’m cold, Reo.”
Reo acts quickly, running his hands across Nagi’s shoulders. His hands aren’t warm in the slightest, but the friction provides Nagi with a bit of relief. He places his hands over Reo’s, his arms working their way into an awkward position as Reo continues to rub his shoulders. The thought of moving his hands away never crosses his mind.
“I know,” Reo chuckles. His voice is hushed, the breeze whizzing past Nagi’s ears practically drowning him out. It’s odd; the quiet, mellow cadence Reo uses when speaking to him. Nagi almost feels the need to encourage him to raise his voice, but then Reo pulls him closer just a tad from his grip on his shoulders, and the words die on his tongue.
A shiver shoots up the base of Nagi’s spine, his hands trembling over Reo’s own. “Cold,” he repeats, a bit more indignation in his tone. Reo just laughs, his left hand pushing past Nagi’s own and traveling down the expanse of his back, settling between his shoulder blades.
“I know,” he hums. Nagi leans in closer; both to hear him and to attempt to leech more warmth from Reo’s body. “It was warmer earlier, so I thought it wouldn’t be too bad!” Reo explains himself. “I’m so sorry, treasure.”
An insistent warmth settles in Nagi’s chest at the nickname. He doesn’t bother replying, instead straining his back to drop his head onto Reo’s shoulder. Reo chuckles and Nagi feels it more than he hears it. “You’re okay with it?” Reo practically coos in his ear. Nagi only nuzzles himself more firmly into the crook of his neck, almost uncomfortably.
Nagi wasn’t exactly 100% with the situation at hand, but Reo has a point; it had been warmer earlier.
Well, it hadn’t just been warm. It was hot. The evening had passed Nagi by in a blur of drowsy, sweaty snapshots that he can hardly remember. In any other circumstance, Nagi would’ve spent his day off holed up in his apartment with his laggy first-person shooter game and cactus as company; but Isagi had come up with the genius idea of inviting everyone to this summer festival being hosted, and before Nagi could make up some excuse about Choki needing a vet appointment or something, Reo had forwarded him the message. He didn’t elaborate, but Nagi was smart enough to get the implication. Besides, if Reo was planning to go, he would at least have some reprieve.
It had been going smoothly, everyone huddling in their giant group and cliques finding each other in the mess. But after a solid hour of being there, Nagi noticed a decline in Reo’s usual extroverted attitude. Maybe it was due to Aryu’s hair blowing in the wind and whipping into Reo’s face on more than one occasion. Or it could’ve been the way Shidou kept very loudly proclaiming that he had just received a text from a certain someone. Hell, if it wasn’t any of that it was for sure the way Rin practically broke all of his knuckles while trying to swing at Shidou in response to that remark. Regardless, Nagi watched the way Reo’s usual easy expression shifted into one of irritation, his brows furrowed as he bit his lip in vexation.
But then, Reo pursed his lips together– Nagi recognized it as contemplation– and had told Nagi he would be back in just a moment. He walked, not far away, but far enough to where he could grab Isagi by the sleeve of his yukata and ask him something. Isagi had raised a brow, eyes shifting from Reo, then to Nagi, then back to Reo as he shrugged, nodding his head. Reo had perked up, swiveling around to make his way back to Nagi before Isagi grabbed him by the sleeve and yanked him back. After a bit of protest and a little bit of both Isagi and Reo tapping away at their phones, Isagi deemed whatever they were doing as done and let Reo go. Reo finally turned, hurrying back to Nagi, but before Nagi could question what he had been doing, Reo grabbed his wrist and dragged him along. ‘The beach,’ he had said. ‘We’re going to the beach.’
Nagi didn’t have the energy to protest. It’s not like he would’ve, regardless. It’s Reo after all.
So here he is, with the sand bunched beneath his toes, his jeans soaked and sticking to his skin, and Reo’s arms around his neck like an anchor.
Reo shifts a bit, Nagi’s neck leveling as Reo moves. He’s no longer hunched over to reach his shoulder, and it’s far more comfortable. Reo wobbles a little, and Nagi realizes he’s on the balls of his feet, trying to make himself taller. But the sand is slick, and without proper friction, and with Nagi’s weight leaning on him, Reo is sure to fall back. A reckless wave crashes against them, and the thought strikes a chord in the forefront of Nagi’s brain. He reaches out– a tad bit more aggressively than he would’ve liked to– and pulls Reo forward by his waist until their chests are pressed together. Reo’s heartbeat hammers against him with a vengeance. He doesn’t bother moving his arm away, keeping it fixed firmly around him.
“Nagi,” Reo’s voice is bubbly, edging on a chuckle. Nagi squeezes him tighter, reaching a hand to tangle his fingers in the hair at his nape.
“You were gonna fall,” Nagi reasons. Reo doesn’t respond. He’s flustered; Nagi doesn’t have to look to tell. He can tell from the way Reo leans back slightly into his touch, from the hitched breath he lets out, and from the feverish heat that forms along Reo’s shoulders and neck despite the cold. It’s a stark, jarring contrast from how vocal Reo typically is. He expresses his affection in murmurs of treasure; in hoisting Nagi up onto his back when he’s exhausted after practice. Nagi’s a big fan of all that, but there’s something addicting to the tremor in Reo’s fingertips when Nagi compliments him. The smiles he tries to bite back when he leans closer to him. The flush that settles high on his cheeks on the rare occasions where Nagi decides to lift Reo up after an insane goal. But there's something hazy in the atmosphere where, despite having Reo right there with him, Nagi feels like he’s experiencing symptoms of withdrawal. Devotion pools in his chest like how the tide rises after the moon takes a lap around the earth, and it overflows in the form of him squishing the cartilage of his nose against Reo’s pulse point and tightening his grip enough to bruise. Reo doesn’t seem to have any complaints.
“You’re warmer now.” Nagi’s satisfied. Reo lets out a huff of laughter, a tad shaky.
“I don’t feel warm,” Reo mumbles, giving Nagi a small squeeze. And Nagi could give Reo a thorough explanation about how blood rushes and how more blood equals more warmth, but that would be a pain. Instead, he lifts his head and stares at Reo, eyes half-lidded and bleary, and Reo’s fond grin lets him know that he never really needed the explanation.
What a tease…
Nagi huffs a breath, watching intently as Reo scrunches his nose when the air fans over his neck. It’s dark, but not dark enough for Nagi to miss the pink dust over the bridge of Reo’s nose and the slight quirk of his lips now that he’s being observed.
“You’re blushing,” is all Nagi provides. Reo’s eyes roll back, his annoyance a farce as he ruffles Nagi’s hair. His fingertips linger for a bit, catching on a tangle as he pulls away and flattens his palm against the base of his neck. It’s playful, it’s teasing, and it still manages to make heat fizzle in Nagi’s gut as he leans himself back just to lurch forward again. He contemplates where to move, whether to lean back into Reo’s steady palm or trace all of Reo’s features with his eyes. No matter the outcome, he knows the answer has to do with being closer to Reo. Always closer to Reo.
Maybe it’s the silence that's spurring Nagi on. Maybe it’s the sea spray he’s breathing in entering his system and providing him with a watered-down form of liquid courage. Or maybe it’s the way Reo’s eyes crinkle at the corners, moonlight catching on his pupils and the water the same way. The grin that refuses to leave his face even though Nagi’s not doing anything the slightest bit entertaining. His fingers that languidly tangle themselves in the hair at the nape of Nagi’s neck. It’s all intoxicating. Whether it’s Reo or the sea or the air of intimacy that the empty beach gives him, Nagi’s entranced with all of it.
Reo tugs at his hair. Gently; reminiscent of how Nagi had teased him earlier.
It shouldn’t light a fire in him. Reo’s fussed with his hair more times than he can count. He’s been scalded by the sun more times than he can count.
But he’s never felt as hot as he does now.
He moves with the same instinctive fluidity that seems to come to him only on the field– only when he has Reo on his mind. And Reo’s not startled, but he lets out a sharp exhale as a laugh, and, all of the sudden, Nagi understands why sailors would go mad at sea.
He tilts his head a bit, testing the waters. Reo’s dull nails languidly scratch at his neck, so repetitive it could practically lull him to sleep if they weren’t torso-deep in frigid salt water. Reo’s brow raises inquisitively at him, but Nagi doesn’t falter. He rests his head against Reo’s own, lips firmly pressed against his temple.
He doesn’t pucker his lips. There's no audible sound when he pulls back. Anyone in their right mind would hardly consider it a kiss at all.
But everything still manages to stop.
Reo halts, his fingers freezing in their tracks. He tenses; Nagi can feel him stiffen under his hands, core tightening like he’s exercising. Nagi circles his thumb, tracing a pattern into Reo’s skin like a balm. A tinge of satisfaction ripples from his fingertips to the pit of his stomach when he feels goosebumps rise on Reo’s skin, a slight tremor breaking his tension. It’s good. Really good. But Nagi has done his fair share of stumbling and falling when he tries to assume they’re on the same page, so he stills himself. Reo pulls back, his hands never retracting from Nagi even as he sets him with a gaze.
It’s not angry, not confused, but it’s feverish. His eyes are clouded, a deep crimson bleeding over the highs of his cheeks and making his face ruddy. Nagi doesn’t need to read his mind to decipher the emotion behind it.
The water sloshes lazily around their hips, having calmed down the slightest bit. He swallows, mouth opening slightly with an unsung syllable on the tip of it as Reo uses the hand on the back of Nagi’s neck to pull him down. Nagi has half a brain to snap his mouth shut.
But then a faint hissing fills Nagi’s ears, quickly followed by a resounding pop, and Reo’s head turns, angling up at the sky. Reo lets out a shocked gasp, eyes reflecting the burst of “stars” that have just painted the sky. Nagi doesn’t even bother to look, not stopping even though Reo’s redirected because how could he ever when Reo’s right in front of him? His lips press against the skin of Reo’s cheek, a comforting warmth pressing against the chapped skin of his lips. Reo’s lip twitches up, a little hum of acknowledgment leaving his throat. Nagi pulls a hair's breadth away only to kiss Reo again, chastely brushing his skin. He keeps kissing him, again and again from the apples of his cheeks to the corner of his mouth, and Reo drinks it up. He tugs Nagi’s hair as gentle encouragement; not that Nagi needs it, he never thought about stopping in the first place.
“Nagi,” Reo mumbles. His voice is achingly gentle, but it goes in one ear and out the other as Nagi presses against Reo’s jaw. He still hears the pops, but tunes them out.
Nagi only comes to a halt when Reo places his hand in between their faces. He lets out a flustered laugh, shoving Nagi away lightly. Nagi kisses the palm of his hand, he’ll take what he can get.
“What is it, Reo?” His voice comes out hoarse, eyes unable to stay focused on one place on Reo’s face. Reo drags a hand against his face, exasperated, before gesturing at the sky weakly.
“We’re missing the fireworks,” Reo chuckles. His shoulders shake with laughter brought on by disbelief, and sure enough, when Nagi looks up, there’s a rocket whizzing up towards the sky in a cloud of smoke, sparks trailing off behind it. It pops, and this time Nagi catches the burst.
Everything gets washed in a bright shade of admiral blue. It catches on the water, painting it so vibrant that it reminds Nagi of how the water in animated movies looks. Reo snickers again, probably at his expression. Nagi shifts his attention, and Reo’s staring up. The sparks color his eyes a pretty indigo color when reflected on his iris, his skin glazed lapis. He has a content smile on his face, lips parted slightly. He shifts his weight a bit onto Nagi, using him to prop himself up, not taking his eyes away from the light show above. Nagi busies himself by focusing on the dip of Reo’s cupid’s bow. Until slowly, but surely, the blue starts to fade from their surroundings. The water is back to being murky and dark, and Reo’s form is only lit up by moonlight, and there are no signs of the brief blue period they were in. Nagi almost sighs and Reo does, face still tilted up at the sky.
“It was pretty, huh?” Reo’s tone is tranquil, with a romantic quality to it that has Nagi desperate to hang upon his lips. His eyes flutter closed, letting his head knock against Nagi’s collarbone gently. He grips onto Reo’s side again like it’s a lifeline, a warmth spreading through his chest like a wildfire. The constant overwhelming feeling should be a pain, but he finds himself craving it a bit, trying to read Reo’s expression because he needs more. Whether it’s pressing a kiss to Reo’s lips or peppering him in more pecks till Reo shoos him away, he needs more. He can’t see much from here, only the start of Reo’s brow and the slope of his nose, but he still finds himself staring. He always seems to be staring.
“Mhm,” he hums, tapping two fingers to the side of Reo’s jaw to encourage him to tilt his head upwards. Reo obliges easily, not bothering to open his eyes as he tilts his head to the side, just enough to make it easier for Nagi to slot his lips against his. Nagi swallows as he inches closer, holding him like he’s fragile, like he’s porcelain in his hands. He lets out a sigh, the air fanning across Reo’s lips. There's no one else there, just him and Reo and he shouldn’t feel the need to lower his voice but the silence is deafening. His voice drops even more, a low whisper as he mumbles against Reo’s lips.
“It was.”