Work Text:
Kagi-kun has a jawline. This is a stupid thought to have, but Hirano has it anyway, and he feels really stupid as a result.
He hates feeling stupid.
But what he means is that Kagi-kun has a very sharp jawline. He notices it when Kagi-kun turns and leans to the left to grab a pencil that is about to fall off the desk. They’re sitting at opposite ends of the table, studying together for their exams, and Hirano hates how quickly he loses his focus when faced with Kagi-kun’s profile.
He didn’t use to get distracted like this. He didn’t use to stare at his roommate all the time and he didn’t use to think about how handsome he was whenever he did it. Clearly, things have changed.
“Hirano-san? Are you okay?” Kagi-kun asks, blinking at Hirano with that cute little confused face he makes all the fucking time. Ugh.
“I’m fine,” Hirano huffs, “Just thinking.”
Kagi-kun lies forward on the table, resting his cheek on his arm and looking at him with big curious eyes. “About?”
“You.”
Kagi-kun goes red and chokes on air, but Hirano knows him well enough by now to realize that he is more overjoyed than embarrassed by the admission. That’s one good thing about this whole situation, at least: no matter how stupid Hirano is about Kagi-kun, he can be certain that Kagi-kun is just as stupid about him.
Perfectly equal and balanced, just like the idiot wants them to be.
“What about—What about me?” Kagi-kun manages to choke out, voice wobbly like he’s seasick or something, and Hirano rolls his eyes. Maybe Kagi-kun is a little stupider. Seriously, what is he so bowled over for?
Instead of answering, Hirano puts his pen on the table and leans over to rest his hand on Kagi-kun’s jaw. He holds it in his palm, effectively cupping his face, pushing his fingers into his hair.
Just as he expected, he feels only hard bone under a relatively thin layer of skin. There’s nearly no fat there, much like in the rest of Kagi-kun’s body (or at least, the parts of it he’s been allowed to see in the past). Even his cheek is not as soft as Hirano’s, and it’s not like his is all that soft to begin with.
He hums. Athletes.
“You really are all muscle, aren’t you?” he mutters, and it’s a good thing that he doesn’t expect an answer, because Kagi-kun is frozen solid in shock.
At least until Hirano starts stroking his thumb over his cheekbone, at which point he startles like he’s been bitten.
“What?” Hirano says, mildly irritated.
“You’re so—” Kagi-kun starts, but he never finishes. Instead, he throws himself up and then lunges across the desk, shoving a pencil case on the ground and making a mess of their books, to gather Hirano in his arms for a bone-crushing hug.
And it is bone-crushing. Hirano actually feels a little crack between his shoulder blades.
His arm is still outstretched, hand hovering in the air, and it takes him a moment to come back to himself and lower it to Kagi-kun’s back. His other arm is a lost cause, held in place by Kagi-kun’s far stronger grip.
“What?” Hirano repeats, irritation all but fizzled out, replaced by confusion.
Kagi-kun, still strewn across the table—sheesh, he cannot be comfortable like that—buries his face in Hirano’s shoulder and inhales as deeply as he can.
“I love you,” he blurts. A few months back, Hirano would have sputtered in embarrassment and annoyance, and maybe told him to shut up. By now he’s used to it, so he limits himself to blushing and sighing. Unfortunately, his mouth is right above Kagi-kun’s neck, and so his sigh lands right at the base of it, earning him a full-body shiver.
Kagi-kun groans loudly. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“I have some idea,” Hirano mumbles, petting gently down Kagi-kun’s back. Then, a little louder: “Come on, sit down. You’re going to hurt your back.” Or the desk might break under his weight, but he doesn’t say that.
Kagi-kun holds him even tighter, somehow. His strength would be scary if he wasn’t the most harmless guy in the universe. “I don’t care. I want to hold you forever.”
“You can’t hold me forever, that’s ridiculous.”
“Until dinner, then.”
Now Hirano is annoyed. “You can’t do that either. We need to study.”
“We can take a break.”
“Not until dinner.”
“It’s only two hours away!”
“You are not hugging me for two hours,” Hirano snaps, “In fact, you’re not hugging me for one more second. Get off,” he orders before Kagi-kun can protest further, and his tone is serious enough that the guy finally complies.
Not without pouting, obviously.
“Meanie,” he says as he sits back down, like he’s in elementary school and someone took his crayons.
Hirano stretches the arm that was previously stuck and pointedly ignores the jab. “Finish your worksheet,” he says, picking up his strewn-about papers and shifting his focus back on his own work.
Then, because he’s stupid, so stupid for the boy sitting in front of him, instead of picking up his pen again, he lays his hand on the table palm up. His gaze is still downcast, but he practically feels Kagi-kun perking up at the silent invitation.
He is not surprised when his hand is grabbed by a bigger, tougher one. He simply curls his fingers around Kagi-kun’s, and they silently go back to studying.