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"Oh god, I've got a hot date tonight and I'm not too big of a man to admit I AM NOT READY."
Harry Du Bois paces anxiously outside of his room in the Whirling In Rags. When his passive cry for help is met with stoic silence, he turns on his heel to face his temporary partner.
Kim Kitsuragi leans against the indoor balcony railing, carefully regarding Harry's mini-breakdown with a seemingly impassive stare.
"I'm sure you'll be fine, detective."
Like a sad old dog, Harry lets out a pathetic whine, "You don't understand!”
He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, scowling into nothing as he speaks, “I don't remember anything about dating! I don't even remember how to kiss someone."
With a noted lack of response from his partner, Harry lets out a huff and continues, "This is my second chance for a first kiss. I want it to be sweet and perfect.”
His tone shifts to a soft melancholy as he adds, “Something I won't be able to forget this time…"
"I didn't take you for a romantic," Kim says absently. His eyes flick to the terrace door, he’s ready for a cigarette and for this conversation to be over. When Harry fidgets and says nothing in response, Kim turns to the exit.
Before he can make it more than a step, Harry reaches out with a meaty paw, stopping him in his tracks, “Kim, wait.”
With threadbare patience, Kim turns back, gaze locking with a pair of uncomfortably intense puppy eyes, beaconing him for… something.
"You’ve gotta help me."
"With what?"
Harry's eyes flick down to Kim's lips and then up again to meet his confused gaze. Realization hits him like a shot to the head and Kim’s brows raise into his hairline in disbelief. He’s not entirely sure if his assumption is correct, so he keeps his cadence slow and even as he cautiously asks, "You want you and I to kiss?"
"Not a real kiss, just practice," Harry replies hastily.
Kim’s brows burrow back under the curve of his glasses in serious consideration. Both men are so acutely tense, that in this moment, neither of them dares to draw a breath.
The silence is agonizing and Harry is the first to break. He sucks air through his teeth in a grimace, but before he can utter a word of what would have been a rambling apology, Kim cuts him off with a curt, "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay."
Shocked, Harry can only manage to sputter, looking more bashful than any man in his forties has a right to. Seeing his partner’s bald anxiety, Kim recognizes he will have to take the initiative, and speaks with a gentle authoritative tone, "close your eyes."
Despite his nerves, Harry manages a look of determination before nodding and snapping his eyes shut.
Kim steps close enough that their breath mingles in a not entirely pleasant mix of stale cigarettes and old booze. He is undeterred, but hesitates a fraction from contact to add, "Purse your lips a little."
Harry once again complies, and without any further ceremony, Kim leans forward, delicately pressing their lips together. There's a stiff formality to it but it's nice, and for a moment they stand together in a simple warm connection.
Harry lets out a contented sigh and attempts to deepen the "just for practice -not kiss". His tongue lightly brushes the seam of Kim’s lips, begging entrance to the other man’s mouth. Kim’s eyes shoot open for a moment in surprise but quickly flutter shut as he parts his lips to meet Harry's eager tongue.
Harry pushes forward, closing the distance between their bodies, the two men growing more fervent with every pulsing clash of their mouths. Harry's hand glides to Kim's side and his knee instinctively nuzzles his legs apart, eliciting a decidedly undignified noise from Kim.
Visibly flustered and a little put out at himself, Kim pushes Harry back, disengaging the "not kiss".
"You seriously don't remember how to do this?"
Completely flushed and panting slightly, “The Expression” is almost unbearable to behold as Harry raises a smug eyebrow to ask, "Why, was I that good?"
"No."
The look Kim gives Harry in return is long suffered and withering. Harry deflates a little, but immediately perks up a bit when he notices Kim stepping toward him.
"Too much tongue; too aggressive."
Kim takes another step towards Harry, once again removing any distance between them. He puts a hand to his face, guiding him closer.
"You're going to scare away anyone who isn't a horny old man like you."
Kim lightly touches their lips together once again and murmurs into his mouth, "You need to go slower, work up to it." Harry’s heart skips a beat at the tenderness in his tone, and pauses at the realization that this doesn’t feel as fake as he was initially bargaining for.
Feeling the sudden emotional shift, Kim pulls back, asking softly “Is everything okay Detective?”
Harry winces, “Please, Kim. At least if we’re doing this could you call me-”
“Harry.”
Hearing his name breathily fall from Kim’s lips does something to him. A primal pulse of emotion washes away any lingering feelings of hesitation and they come together like a wave.
Harry is once again struggling not to lose himself in the other man, trying his best to be mindful of his own desires overpowering the experience. He wants Kim to feel as good as he does in this moment, a natural high of emotion leaving him feeling drunk on the taste.
Despite himself, he can’t help but nip at Kim’s lower lip, drawing out a little gasp from him. Hearing this and not wanting Kim to pull back again, Harry slows to an almost excruciatingly pace. He feels a gloved hand snake its way into his long hair, and there’s a sudden sense of urgency in the way Kim grips him and pulls him closer.
Kim hasn't made out with someone like this in years, the sloppy unrushed exploration making him feel young again. Harry literally can't remember the last time he kissed someone but the world is spinning and the pleasure building between the two men is spiraling into something neither of them is ready to fall into.
With a breathy moan, they reluctantly break apart. Harry lowers his hand to awkwardly adjust himself and is a little stunned to see that Kim is facing a very similar issue.
Under the guise of reaching for his pocket, Kim subtly adjusts himself as well before he shakily pulls out a cigarette from his pack.
"Well, I think you're pretty prepared for the real thing now."
"I didn't realize it would involve a cigarette."
"What?"
There's a moment of genuine confusion between them before it dawns on Harry that he still has a date to go on tonight. "Oh, right..." Somehow Harry thinks it won't to come to that, not after whatever just transpired between the two of them here.
Kim rocks from one foot to another, rolling his cigarette between his fingers. He's very obviously in need of some stress relief and is ready to bolt.
"Kim."
He looks up and Harry plants a quick peck on his lips.
"Goodnight."
Harry turns on his heel and quickly exits to his room, leaving Kim alone to head to the terrace with his thoughts. A part of him is glad to finally be able to go over his notes and enjoy a cigarette in peace but another part is already missing the company. His lips tingle as he brings the cigarette to his lips and lights it, taking a long slow drag.
He wonders about how many years ago his last kiss had been, and hopes that his next one might not be so far away.