Work Text:
Souji walks along the barren corridors of his new school for the next year, alongside him Mr Morooka (his homeroom teacher) keeps a steady stride. Leading him to his classroom in preparation for his introduction, Souji takes sparse looks around the interior - noting the rather dull appearance of the building - and attempts to keep pace with the man.
Abruptly, Mr Morooka stops in front of a chipping door motioning for him to halt, "You wait out here, get that? Gotta calm down those rowdy bunch and I'll call you in." He states in his scratchy tone before gripping the handle and slamming the wooden door open; the previous chatter leaking through is now no more due to what Souji can presume is surprise or fear.
"Shut up all of yous! I'm new homeroom teacher from today forward, and I expect utmost respect from a grown bunch like you. 's long as I'm around around you'll be pure as the driven snow! Now-" The guy clears his throat from what Souji can hear hiding outside the classroom, "I hate wasting time but I have to introduce the new transfer student. You can come in now!"
Taking this as his cue, Souji shuffles from around the wall and strides into the classroom up to the front podium. He sweeps a look over the people yet his eyes locking on an orange haired guy with his head down on the table, his grey eyes widen slightly in recognition - it's the guy who fell off his bike this morning! he thinks to himself. Souji's gaze remains fixed onto the top of his head, noting his shiny hair spilling over the shabby table.
"Are you actually going say anything or stand there like an idiot?!" Mr Morooka shouts, snapping Souji out of his thoughts. He nods and shuffles his feet.
"I'm Seta Souji." It seemed like the sudden raise in volume alerted the orange haired boy too, as he has now lifted his head to rest his chin onto the back of his hand. Souji's eyes unconsciously drift back to him; taking in the sharp features of his soft face, his warm brown eyes casting a seemingly uninterested glance back to him, slightly hidden by the unruly hair gently falling into his face.
An odd urge to run his fingers through the silky mane itches at his hands, to smooth it down and kindly tuck a piece behind his ear - to wrap an orange strand around his finger as he locks eyes with the boy; his hooded eyes steadily boring a whole through his composure, melting like chocolate on a sunny day framed by spiky lashes.
The boy seems to notice his incessant staring as he raises an eyebrow to peer curiously at him, his full lips downturned into a light pout and Souji cannot help the delicate blush warming his cheeks. His eyes shift onto the boys lips - fingers twitching with the question of how soft they might be - wanting to graze his calloused thumb over them and place a tender kiss of gratitude.
Thoughts of how the boy might react flood into Souji's brain.
Would he act bashful and cover his redding face with a hand, anxiously shifting his eyes downwards to avoid eye contact, bat his pretty eyelashes from nervousness; or would he adapt to the situation and melt back into the kiss, meeting Souji with his own fervour, tilting his head to slot their lips closer?
Souji's mind runs rampant with possibilities-
"Hey Seta! Done spacing out?" Mr Morooka's voice echoes throughout the empty classroom and startles Souji, ending his train of thought. It seems he's lost himself in his head. In the middle of his introduction no less, how embarrassing.
"I apologize, sir. Nerves." Souji blurts out on the spot. A rookie excuse yet one that the teacher appears to buy as he only clicks his tongue in annoyance before shooing him into an unoccupied seat. Coincidentally also situated right in front of the orange haired boy.
As he seats down he can feel the weight of someone's eyes steadily looking at him, Souji nervously scratches the back of his head and chooses instead to focus on the teachers never-ending speech.
He'll get the boys name another time.