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empty hallways and bunsen burners and purple sunsets with the taste of someone else on his tongue.
“your lips are cold” imayoshi had said with a glinting, knife like smile.
hanamiya didn’t understand, not without how his cheeks and chest had felt so hot, and it’s not until he’s lying in bed, staring at stars outside his window, that he realises imayoshi had meant something else.
hanamiya lies and imayoshi laughs, this is attraction but not deep or deserving enough to be called affection but sometimes he feels a little lost and there was one time his heart had beat a little faster. synthetic, chemical, this imitation of a relationship won’t last long.
turning up to a door to a house that was not his, in the humid heat of the monsoon, his uniform clinging to him like a second skin and wet with sweat and rain and want.
biting his lip and getting twisted in faded blue bed sheets, clutching at a body that’s just become a little less awkward than his own, looking into eyes that watched him with open amusement.
he had kissed fire that afternoon.