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Sakura is staring at him again.

This, in itself, is not a particularly new development. Mitsuki has caught him on a few separate occasions now, lips quirking up in a curious smile whenever he meets Sakura's gaze; Sakura always flushes bright red before quickly averting his eyes, pointedly avoiding so much as glancing in Mitsuki's direction for the next little while.

It's nothing Mitsuki isn't used to—he knows his appearance can be quite eye-catching, especially to those who have never met him before. Still, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about what exactly it is that keeps drawing Sakura's eyes to him this long after they've become friends.

What is new is the fact that Sakura won't stop staring today—at least not for long. He’ll dart his gaze away like he usually does whenever Mitsuki catches him, but it's only a matter of minutes before Mitsuki feels eyes on him again.

The intensity of it is also new. Before, it seemed as though Sakura's eyes would idly stray in his direction without realizing. Now, it feels heavier, more deliberate. There's a slight furrow in his brow like he's trying to solve some kind of puzzle, though it's anyone's guess as to what that puzzle could be. Mitsuki wonders if Sakura would tell him if he asked.

Their friends have definitely noticed as well. Mitsuki's already caught Tsugeura glancing quizzically between the two of them, and he's usually the second-last one to catch on to things. He's also pretty sure he heard Suo say his name when he'd leaned over to whisper in Sakura's ear, seconds before Sakura had turned an alarming shade of crimson and shoved him away with a hissed, "Shaddup!"

Mitsuki opts to play dumb for the time being, partly because poor Sakura looks like he might pass out the next time someone prods him, and partly because he wants to see if a more opportune moment to confront Sakura will present itself. Still, he can't help but want to poke fun, so he feigns innocence when he asks, "Suo-chan, what did you say to him? His face is so red!"

"Oh, nothing much," Suo replies breezily, grinning from ear to ear in a manner that suggests otherwise at the same time Sakura manages to stammer out a "N-none of your damn business!"

"Sakura-san often seems to get distracted staring at Kiryu-san's face," Nirei comments as he flips through his notebook, apparently having no such reservations about killing Sakura. Or getting killed by Sakura. He nearly falls out of his seat in his attempt to duck behind Suo as Sakura makes a grab for him.

"All of you need to stop saying unnecessary shit!"

Everyone just laughs at that, much to Sakura's chagrin, but Mitsuki doesn't miss how in his embarrassment, Sakura appears to have forgotten to actually deny the accusation. Which means he has been getting distracted staring at Mitsuki's face.

His face, huh… As much as Mitsuki would love to think that Sakura's been charmed by his super cute looks, he's aware that the most interesting thing about his face would probably have to be his piercings—could those be what keep grabbing Sakura's attention? Given the way he reacts whenever Mitsuki catches him staring, it wouldn't be far-fetched to wonder if Sakura is interested in them, would it? It certainly wouldn't be the first time someone's wanted to ask him about them.

Mitsuki smiles as a plan begins to form in his head. If Sakura really is too embarrassed to satisfy his curiosity of his own accord, then perhaps Mitsuki can save him the trouble of having to bring it up himself.

"What're you grinning about," Sakura grumbles, though there's no real heat behind the words. He seems to be unable to meet Mitsuki's eyes now, instead staring somewhere around his shoulder.

"Nothing much," Mitsuki sing-songs, smile widening at the way Sakura's cheeks redden even as his scowl deepens. He'll find out soon enough, anyway.

A golden opportunity presents itself once it's time for them to start their patrols. As their class begins to clear out, Mitsuki reaches over to catch Sakura by the sleeve.

"Wait a moment, Sakura-chan." He peers around Sakura to look at their friends and makes a shooing gesture with his hand. "You all can go on ahead, we'll catch up soon."

Suo and Nirei exchange a look that's all too knowing; Mitsuki just smiles placidly at them, though he's already anticipating the grilling he's going to get from them later. Tsugeura just gives them both a thumbs up, and Mitsuki thinks this is the most grateful he's ever been that Tsugeura has muscles for brains.

Once they're alone in the classroom, Mitsuki turns back to Sakura, who's already watching him intently from where he's sat himself atop the desk next to Mitsuki's seat, legs swinging idly where they're dangling above the floor.

"Is there something on my face?"

"Huh?" Sakura squints at him. "The hell're you talking about?"

"Well, you've been staring at me this whole time." Sakura chokes at the call-out, but Mitsuki continues, "It seemed like you had something you wanted to say, so I thought maybe I had something on my face and you just didn't want to point it out in front of everyone. You're so considerate, Sakura-chan!"

"That's not—I wasn't staring," Sakura retorts defensively once he's recovered from the brink of death, "I was just… just…"

"You were just…?"

"…Looking," Sakura finishes lamely, deflating like a balloon.

"At me," Mitsuki points out, biting back a smile as Sakura frowns but doesn't deny it. "Okay, so if there isn't something on my face, then what were you looking at?"

For a brief moment, as Mitsuki is speaking, he sees Sakura's gaze flicker down to—his mouth? Mitsuki's traitorous heart stumbles over itself at the observation, though fortunately he manages not to stumble over his words to match.

Sakura watches Mitsuki for a moment longer before looking down at his hands in his lap as he mumbles a response that isn’t really audible. When Mitsuki just tilts his head in question, Sakura grits his teeth before he repeats himself, a little louder this time, "…Your tongue."

Mitsuki blinks. Of all the responses Sakura could have given, he hadn’t expected that to be one of them.

"My tongue…?" Mitsuki repeats carefully, just to make sure he didn't mishear. When Sakura nods curtly but doesn't elaborate, he realizes he'll need to prod a little more. "Why?"

If possible, Sakura frowns even harder. "'Cause you've got your…" His brow furrows in thought, searching for the words. He sticks his own tongue out a little, pointing to the centre of it. "Y'know, the thing here!"

Mitsuki's eyes widen as the pieces start falling into place. "You mean my piercing?"

"Yeah, that."

Sakura eyes him warily, fidgeting with his hands. As soon as the realization clicks, Mitsuki can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him. "Sakura-chan, did you just notice it?"

"S-so what if I did!?" Sakura looks mildly affronted by Mitsuki's mirth, but his blush betrays his embarrassment. "Who's lookin' at anyone's tongue, anyway?"

Well, apparently you've been staring at mine an awful lot today, Mitsuki doesn't say. Honestly, he's quite happy about this whole situation: it means that Sakura's looking at him, really looking at him, taking in everything there is to see about him.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to laugh," Mitsuki says, not apologetic in the slightest. "It makes sense, since you can only see it when I open my mouth. That being said…" Mitsuki taps his lip in thought as he considers the best way to phrase his next sentence. The way Sakura's eyes dart down again to track the motion doesn't go unnoticed. "If you'd like, I don't mind letting you take a closer look."

"Huh?! Why would I—who said I wanna take a closer look?"

"But Sakura-chan, you've been staring at it this whole time. I thought you might be interested in it, or at least curious. Why else would you have been looking at me so intensely?"

Sakura is quiet for a moment. The tips of his ears have turned red. "… Was I really starin' at it that hard?"

"Any harder and I would've thought you were trying to set me on fire with your eyes," Mitsuki teases.

"That's not even possible," Sakura mutters. Mitsuki stifles a giggle at that; the way Sakura takes everything so seriously is adorable.

"Maybe not, but you're not the type to be deterred by something like that." Mitsuki knows—Sakura rises to any challenge, no matter how impossible it seems. "In any case, you still haven't given me a proper answer.”

Sakura doesn't reply right away. His brow is furrowed, lips pushed out slightly in a pout as he seems to really, seriously consider Mitsuki's question. His eyes dart between Mitsuki's face and his own lap, cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink as he glances away. Mitsuki can practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

A thought occurs to Mitsuki, then. A really stupid, really impulsive, potentially friendship-ruining thought. And he should probably think this through first, but between the way Sakura's been looking at him lately and the way their friends have been acting, he can't help but feel bold. He can't help but dare to hope, just a little bit—at least, enough to think that maybe he won't drive an irreparable gap between them with his next question.

Ultimately, the stupid, impulsive part of his brain wins out—a rarity, if he's being honest, but maybe Sakura makes him a little bit stupid sometimes—and he asks, before he can think better of it, "Or perhaps you'd like to feel it for yourself, instead?"

Sakura's nose wrinkles, pensiveness now replaced with confusion. "You want me to grab your tongue?"

Ah, of course he'd interpret it like that. Mitsuki falters, his earlier confidence escaping him all at once because really, there's no way of saying please let me stick my tongue in your mouth that isn't incredibly mortifying. A small part of him had hoped that Sakura might pick up on his insinuation, but he really should have seen this coming: not only is Sakura straightforward almost to a fault, but he's never been one to think about romance—or any of the acts it entails—if he could help it, either.

As it stands, Mitsuki still has a choice here. There's still time for him to back out, to take it all back. He can brush his suggestion aside, laugh it off like he always does.

But Mitsuki's tired of running. For once, he wants to be brave.

So he swallows down his hesitation, wills his voice not to waver when he says, "I meant you might be able to feel it if I… if I kiss you."

Mitsuki's heartbeat pulses loudly in his ears as the words leave his mouth. He sees the moment Sakura registers his words: he whips his head up, eyes wide, his face a shade of red so startling it seems nothing short of a miracle that he hasn't passed out yet.

"K—!" He sputters, choking on the word, sounding very much like a cat trying to cough up a hairball. "K—Kiss!?"

"Yeah, kiss," Mitsuki confirms, voice steady in a way he does not feel.

"But—!" Sakura flails a little more, fumbling for words in his fluster. Mitsuki waits quietly for him to find what he's searching for. "Isn't that the sorta thing that you—!" He pauses, seemingly wrestling with the words; his face turns impossibly redder. "Don't you only do that kinda stuff with someone you l-like!?"

And there it is, the damning question that he’d had a feeling he wouldn't be able to avoid. Admittedly, he's run through this sort of scenario in his head a few times before, though he certainly hadn't planned to be quite so impulsive about it. There are plenty of ways he could answer, he knows, and yet in this moment, the only thing he can conjure up is the pure, unadulterated truth:

"Well, I like you plenty, Sakura-chan," Mitsuki says earnestly, because what else can he say? What else can he do except bare his heart—wholly, vulnerably—to the person who's given him the courage to face himself?

The sound that Sakura makes in response to that—hm, if Mitsuki had to say, it sounds akin to a slowly-deflating balloon. His eyes are wide in what Mitsuki can only call disbelief, and by now he's flushed all the way down his neck; his mouth opens and closes a couple of times, jaw working around words that don't seem to be coming to him.

And Mitsuki gives him time to process, because surely this is all new for him. He'll give Sakura as long as he needs, even if it means waiting here with his heart in his hands, outstretched toward Sakura. Even if it means heartbreak.

Because now, Sakura will truly see him—all of him, as he is. They are protectors of the town, yes, but at the end of the day, Mitsuki is still just a boy, and he has never claimed to be any less at the mercy of his own emotions than anyone else his age.

"You're sayin'—" Sakura starts, a little shaky, "you—like me? Like…" His voice pitches upward, his eyes darting around before settling just shy of Mitsuki's eyes. "Like that?"

Mitsuki nods once, not trusting his voice to conceal his nerves this time.

"And that's why you asked me if I wanna—?" Sakura cuts himself off, pressing his lips together, as if the mere thought of saying the word again brings about a level of mortification beyond compare. Mitsuki can certainly relate; he's beginning to think he may have overdone it by saying too much, too soon.

"Sakura-chan," he starts quietly, carefully, as though trying to approach a scared animal, "if it makes you uncomfortable, we can just pretend I never said anything."

"It's not that," Sakura says quickly before cutting himself off, as though the words had tumbled right out of his mouth before his brain had time to figure out what else he was going to say. "It's not that I don't—want to," he says again after a beat, voice firmer this time. He lowers his gaze to his hands, still fidgeting in his lap. "I just… I've never done any of this before."

Mitsuki's heart is about to leap out of his throat. Did he hear that correctly? Did Sakura just suggest that he wouldn't be against kissing Mitsuki? Does that mean he also…?

Wait. One thing at a time. "Kissing, you mean?"

Sakura shakes his head, making a small, frustrated sound. "Not—I mean, that too, but also the whole—liking someone, it's…" He trails off, mouth twisting into a frown.

"Yeah," Mitsuki agrees, because he understands even if Sakura doesn't say it; even if he doesn't know how to say it, Mitsuki knows, because it's the same for him. "It's scary, isn't it?"

That gets Sakura to look back up at him. "Even for you?"

"Of course! Is that so surprising?"

"But you're—People say you're really popular with girls, and you seemed pretty comfortable h-holding hands with that girl before, so I thought…"

"That's different, Sakura-chan. I was holding her hand because I wanted to help her feel safe."

"So you've never…"

"Liked someone? Gone out with someone? Kissed someone?" Mitsuki watches amusedly as Sakura's face turns a little redder with each addition to the list. "Whichever it is, the answer is no."

"You sure seem awfully calm about this," Sakura grumbles petulantly.

The fact that nothing could be further from the truth almost makes Mitsuki want to laugh. "I don't know if I've ever been this nervous before, actually." The admission seems to dislodge the tight lid he's been keeping on these feelings; now that he's started talking, he can't seem to stop the words from tumbling out. "I keep worrying that I'll say too much and scare you right off. I mean, I half expected you to run out of the room the moment I offered to stick my tongue in your mouth!" Wow, Mitsuki really needs to stop running his mouth, like, yesterday.

"Well, I'm still here, aren't I?" Sakura sounds almost indignant as he says it, despite the bright blush that still paints his cheeks. "Besides, do you think I'm the kind of asshole who'd run away after hearing something like that?"

Mitsuki's eyes widen; he rushes to stand so he can face Sakura properly, nearly knocking his chair back in the process. "Sorry, that came out wrong. I didn't mean to—"

"I know," Sakura interrupts before he can get any further. "You're always looking out for everyone else. But right now, you're actin' like my feelings are the only ones that matter."

Mitsuki opens his mouth to respond, then falters because in a way, it's true. He may have confessed on an impulse, sure, but he was ready to bury those feelings in a heartbeat if Sakura didn't accept them.

"You said it yourself, that liking someone is scary," Sakura continues when Mitsuki doesn't say anything. "I don't know what I'm doing, and I'm afraid I'll mess everything up even if I don't want to. But that's something for me to deal with. I'm not gonna run from it, and I'm not gonna run from you."

Warmth blooms in Mitsuki's chest as his earlier trepidation melts away; thinking about it now, he's not even sure why he'd been so worried to begin with. Of course Sakura wouldn't run away—that's not the kind of person he is. If anything, Mitsuki was the one who'd been running away despite his decision to be open about his feelings; he can't help but let out a small, self-deprecating laugh at the thought.

"I guess I've been a bit silly about this, huh?" Mitsuki sighs, letting the tension drain out of his shoulders as he meets Sakura's eyes properly. "I know you wouldn't run away. You're always facing everything head-on, no matter what. It's something I really admire about you, y'know."

"D-don't say unnecessary things like that!"

"Aw, don't be like that," Mitsuki pouts, seeing an opportunity to tease—and this is something he knows how to do, this is familiar territory. Perhaps that’s why the words seem to come more easily when he says, "Can't I tell the person I like the things I like about them?"

Sakura looks like he's about two seconds away from combusting. "I didn't say you can't," he mumbles. Then, a little louder, "Just—how can you say things like that so easily?"

"Well, I’m finding that it gets less embarrassing the more I do it." Besides, Mitsuki's pretty sure there isn't anything he could possibly say that would be more embarrassing than the things he's already said today. "By the way, has anyone ever told you how adorable you are when you get all flustered like this?"

"You—!" Sakura sputters, pointing an accusatory finger at Mitsuki, now blushing from the tips of his ears all the way down his neck. Mitsuki smiles as he waits for Sakura to remember how to speak. "Are you doin' this on purpose? You are, aren't you?"

Mitsuki hums, tapping his lip in an exaggerated show of thought; a thrill runs through him when he sees Sakura's eyes flicker down with the movement. "And if I said I was?"

Sakura's mouth opens and closes a couple of times as he seemingly wars with himself over how to respond to the obvious provocation before he finally mutters, "To hell with it." There's a defiant glint in his eyes when he looks up, a challenge in the tilt of his chin. "Are you gonna kiss me or not?"

Now it's Mitsuki's turn to freeze, all thoughts of teasing dissipating in favour of figuring out whether he's heard Sakura correctly. "You… actually want me to?"

"Why're you acting so surprised? You're the one who brought it up first!" Sakura protests. "And I already said I wasn't against it, didn't I? Because we both…" He pauses, face scrunching up a little like he's bitten into a lemon as he wrestles with his words. "We both l-like each other," he manages to get out at last.

Mitsuki's sure that his cheeks must be as red as Sakura's look by now. Yes, he'd been the one to make the—stupid, reckless, impulsive, he cannot emphasize that part enough—proposal, but even then, he'd thought that the chances of Sakura actually agreeing to it were incredibly slim. He's already gotten much further than he'd expected, not to mention that hearing Sakura outright confirm that their feelings are mutual still feels surreal. Sue him for being surprised at this turn of events!

"That's true," Mitsuki manages to squeak out once he's certain that his brain is no longer trying to set itself on fire. Sakura doesn't reply right away; he just watches Mitsuki intently, until Mitsuki starts to squirm under the attention. "Sakura-chan, you're staring. What is it?"

Sakura blinks, as though being brought out of a trance, but he doesn’t look away this time. "Nothin', I was just thinking… I kinda get why you were messing with me earlier."

Is this what it feels like to get a taste of his own medicine? Mitsuki fights the urge to hide his face behind his hands, even as he feels his cheeks burn. "Saying things like that when you were all embarrassed just a moment ago, really…"

"Well, I can't be lettin’ you win forever, can I?" The beginnings of a grin are tugging Sakura's lips upward, tinged with satisfaction, and Mitsuki supposes the sight makes all the embarrassment he's feeling right now—and any future embarrassment he's certain to encounter—worth it.

"I guess not," Mitsuki agrees easily, and he finds that he's looking forward to seeing what else Sakura will have to show him in the future. "In that case, I think it's time for the next round, then."

Nerves resurface as Mitsuki steps forward so that he's right in front of Sakura, who opens his legs just enough that Mitsuki can step between them. He takes a breath to steady himself before looking up; he finds the same nervous anticipation he's feeling reflected in Sakura's expression, yet Sakura still watches him expectantly, as if to say—

What are you waiting for?

They're standing on the precipice of something new, but not entirely unfamiliar; after all, they may not know how to navigate all of this just yet, but they know each other—and for now, that's enough to give Mitsuki the confidence he needs to see this through. From here on out, they'll brave this new territory together, side by side.

So Mitsuki braces his hands on either side of Sakura, closes his eyes, and finally lets himself step over the edge as he leans in.

The first brush of their lips together is just that—a soft, barely-there touch as Mitsuki brings his mouth to Sakura's, yet it's still enough to get Mitsuki's heart racing. Against him, he feels Sakura tense up, frozen stiff as if afraid to make a wrong move. He pulls away slowly after a couple of seconds, though he doesn't go far—just enough that he can see Sakura's face when he opens his eyes. Sakura is already looking back at him, eyes wide, a flush high on his cheeks.

"Is this okay?" Mitsuki whispers.

Sakura nods once, stiffly.

"Okay." Mitsuki lifts his right hand to cup Sakura's cheek; when his thumb brushes over his cheekbone, Sakura relaxes ever so slightly, leaning into the touch. "Try to relax, okay? I won't—" bite, he almost says, but—well. He's not sure if that's really a promise he can make, at least in this context, but that's not a train of thought he needs to be entertaining right now. "I mean, we don't have to rush. Just let me know if it's too much and we'll stop."

For a second, Sakura looks like he wants to protest, the beginnings of something along the lines of I ain't a quitter! or Don't underestimate me! surely on the tip of his tongue, but whatever he sees in Mitsuki's expression must give him pause; instead, he lets out a breath, some more of the tension in his shoulders leaving with it. "Alright," he mumbles, glancing just off to the side.

"Good," Mitsuki praises, a small smile playing at his lips. "Let's try that again, shall we?"

Sakura nods again, less stiff this time, but he still looks a little uncertain. Mitsuki's smile softens, and he leans in just enough to press their foreheads together.

"There's no need to be afraid, Sakura-chan. It's just me."

Mitsuki can feel the remaining tension drain out of Sakura's body with those words, the same realization that had put Mitsuki at ease a moment earlier now serving the same purpose for Sakura. Satisfied, Mitsuki uses the hand still holding Sakura's face to guide him forward, bringing their lips together once more.

This time, instead of freezing up, Sakura presses back into the kiss: hesitantly at first, then a little more firmly when Mitsuki hums encouragingly. His lips are chapped and bitten, but Mitsuki finds he doesn't mind in the slightest; he chases after the feeling, moving his lips slightly, and his heart kicks into overdrive when he feels Sakura start to mimic his movements.

Their noses bump, and Mitsuki laughs a little against Sakura's lips before he tilts his head slightly, searching for a better angle, and—oh, this must be what kissing is supposed to feel like, their lips slotting together like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. Sakura must feel it too, if his sharp intake of breath is anything to go by. When their lips separate again, it's with a soft sound that makes Mitsuki's stomach do a little flip, and it's just long enough for him to take a quick breath in before he's diving back in, more confidently now—in himself, and in the thought that this is okay, more than okay, and that Sakura feels the same way.

It's still a little clumsy—the slide of their lips as they learn how to move together, searching for a rhythm as they exchange slow, close-mouthed kisses. Mitsuki pushes up onto his tiptoes as he tries to press himself even closer to Sakura, the hand on his cheek drifting back to tangle in the soft strands of his hair. After a brief moment of consideration, he tightens his hold and tugs lightly. Sakura jolts against him, and Mitsuki immediately loosens his grip and pulls back to gauge his reaction.

"Sorry, was that too…?" Mitsuki trails off as he watches Sakura blink a couple of times, looking a little dazed, a little disoriented.

"Huh? No, no, it was… fine…" Sakura mutters, brow scrunching in confusion as though he himself isn’t sure what to make of his own feelings.

Oh. Oh! He liked that, didn't he? And Mitsuki was the one who made him feel that way. A giddy, fluttery feeling erupts in his chest at the thought, and a small laugh bubbles out of him before he can stop it.

Sakura's eyes widen, the pink on his cheeks darkening, and then he glances down, a little self-consciously. "W-what?"

"Oh, no, I'm just glad that you seem to be enjoying this as much as I am." That you want me, just like I want you.

Embarrassment floods Sakura's features. "Well, obviously," he grumbles, as if it was never even a question that he would return Mitsuki's feelings. "You're not the only one who's been…"

"Hm? Been what?"

Sakura chews on his bottom lip, seemingly torn between finishing his sentence and preserving his dignity. When he speaks, his voice is so small that Mitsuki might have missed it, had he not been hanging onto Sakura's every word. "… curious, I guess."

Mitsuki's breath catches at the admission. So he has been thinking about it, then? For how long? The way that Sakura's been staring at him as of late—how had he never noticed? Questions flood his mind, but he pushes them all aside for now; instead, the hand he still has braced on the table finds Sakura's, clenched tightly around the edge of the desk. He leans in again, watching Sakura's eyes squeeze shut as he presses a featherlight kiss to his cheek.

"So all that staring… it wasn't just about the piercings, was it?" he can't help but tease, lips brushing against skin; he giggles when Sakura makes a strangled sort of sound in the back of his throat. "Kidding, kidding. But," and here, he pulls back a little so Sakura can see him properly, "my offer from earlier stands. If you still want to satisfy your own curiosity." He sticks his tongue out briefly for good measure, and this time he knows that Sakura won't miss the implication.

If Sakura looked embarrassed before, he looks like he might just burst with it now. Still, he doesn't back away; if anything, there's a determined glint in his eyes that tells Mitsuki he might just have to make good on that promise. He starts to lift his hand—the one not still clasped in Mitsuki's—but falters, hesitancy clouding his expression once more. "I don't… where do I…?"

"Wherever you want," Mitsuki answers immediately, leaving no room for uncertainty. "Do whatever feels right."

"But…"

"I'll let you know if I don't like it," Mitsuki promises. "But I…" He takes a breath, swallowing his own embarrassment. "I want you to touch me, so… you don't have to be so worried about messing up, okay?"

Sakura's breath hitches; he still looks a little apprehensive, but he nods. When he lifts his hand, this time he brings it to Mitsuki's face: he trails his fingers along his cheekbone, tracing a path down to his chin; he tilts Mitsuki's chin up with his forefinger, ghosts his thumb over Mitsuki's bottom lip, barely brushing across the top of his piercing.

Mitsuki holds his breath, heart racing as he tries not to tremble beneath the touch. Sakura touches him like he's something delicate, something precious, like he's afraid anything more might shatter him. Mitsuki wants to tell him that it's fine, that he won't break, but he also understands—Sakura's still figuring out how to move beneath the crushing weight of these emotions, too. So instead, he squeezes Sakura's hand in what he hopes is a reassuring manner and lets him continue to explore at his own pace.

When Sakura bends down to kiss him again, it's with none of the tentativeness that had accompanied his fingers. It's firm—insistent, even, as though he's trying to convey all the words he still isn't able to say aloud through touch alone. It makes sense, of course; Sakura has always been the kind of person to let his actions do the talking, and it seems that this is no different. Mitsuki does his best to respond in kind, pouring every ounce of his affection into the kiss. His hand winds its way back into Sakura's hair, finding purchase in the strands at the base of his neck. Sakura's hand, in turn, drifts down his neck and settles on his shoulder like an anchor.

Now that he knows the kind of reaction he can pull from Sakura, Mitsuki doesn't hesitate before tugging on Sakura's hair again—not hard enough to hurt, far from it, but enough to make it clear that the action was deliberate. Sakura doesn't jump this time, but he gasps into the kiss, lips parting slightly, hand tightening around Mitsuki's shoulder like it's the only thing keeping him grounded. The feeling makes Mitsuki's stomach swoop as if he were in free fall, it makes him want to do something reckless.

And, well, he did make an offer, didn't he?

So Mitsuki squeezes Sakura's hand a little tighter, both a warning and a reassurance, before he tentatively swipes his tongue over Sakura's bottom lip, making sure to monitor his reaction for any sign of discomfort or displeasure. But Sakura doesn't pull away, even as his breath stutters; rather, he presses closer to Mitsuki as his lips part a little further—an encouragement, an invitation, and who is Mitsuki to turn him down?

Except now that Mitsuki's been granted permission to—gosh, there has to be a better way to say it—stick his tongue in Sakura's mouth, he finds that he's not entirely sure how he should go about it. It's not like he really has a precedent for this sort of thing—why would he? Maybe he should just… go for it. Straightforward, to the point, and if it sucks, well. That's what practice is for, isn't it?

To hell with it. Caution to the wind, and all that. Rome wasn't built in a day, Mitsuki probably isn't going to get this right on his first try, whatever.

With little fanfare, Mitsuki parts his own lips and slips his tongue into Sakura's mouth, and his first thought is that it feels weird. Not bad weird, but just—it's wet, and it's slippery, and it's not like anything he's ever felt before, which makes sense because this is nothing like anything he's ever done before. He's never been close to someone like this, so close that it's hard to tell where one of them ends and where the other begins.

Slowly, he begins to explore this new feeling, tracing over Sakura's teeth with his tongue before pressing a little closer, venturing a little deeper. He startles when he feels Sakura's tongue press against his own, and there's that jumpy, fluttery feeling again, spreading throughout his whole body until he's dizzy with it, until he feels like he might burst with it—

Wait. When was the last time he took a breath?

He pulls back just enough to break the kiss, panting harshly into the space between them as he remembers how to breathe, and he tries to be very normal about the way Sakura chases after his lips as they separate. Sakura is breathing just as hard as Mitsuki is; when Mitsuki looks up, he sees how Sakura's pupils are blown wide, his lips cherry-red and kiss-swollen and shiny with spit, and Mitsuki is so taken with the sight that he has to remind himself to keep breathing for a second time.

"How… was that…?" Mitsuki asks after a moment, when he no longer feels like he might pass out. "Still doing okay?"

Sakura looks a bit like he'd rather die than answer the question, which might just be the most relatable thing ever, but he still nods an affirmative. His grip on Mitsuki's shoulder loosens, but his hand stays—a warm, solid, steady presence. True to his word, he isn't running away.

"It was… good," Sakura murmurs, and Mitsuki's heart soars at the admission. "Kiryu," he starts, and the sound of his name coming from Sakura's mouth never fails to make butterflies erupt in his stomach, "I wanna… I mean, can I…?" His eyes drop down to Mitsuki's lips, and even though he trails off, the question in his eyes is clear enough.

"You want to try?" Mitsuki asks anyway, just to make sure he's understanding Sakura correctly. When Sakura nods again, Mitsuki can't help the stupid grin that tugs at his lips. "Well, since you're asking so nicely…"

Sakura scowls, bright red blooming beautifully across his cheeks, and that's the only warning Mitsuki gets before Sakura surges forward to kiss him again. It's a little clumsy, a little overeager, more of a bump than a kiss at first, but it's such a Sakura thing to do that Mitsuki can only smile into the kiss, using his hand on Sakura's neck to guide them into something a little gentler but no less fervent.

And the thing about Sakura is that he's a quick learner, so it's not long before he's dragging his tongue over Mitsuki's lips, swallowing up the little gasp that Mitsuki lets out as he licks into his mouth. Mitsuki's hand scrabbles for Sakura's collar, clinging to it like it's the only thing still keeping him tethered to reality; Sakura's hand slides down from its place on Mitsuki's shoulder until it's resting on his lower back, holding him up and pulling him closer in equal measure. When their tongues brush against one another again, it's electrifying; when Sakura intently runs his tongue over the ball of Mitsuki's piercing, it's all Mitsuki can do to make sure that the embarrassing sound that's trying to claw its way out of his throat stays there.

The sound of Sakura's phone ringing jolts them back to reality, causing them to spring apart. Or at least, Mitsuki's body makes a valiant attempt to jump away, but Sakura's legs, which are locked around his waist—and wait a second, when did those even get there—prevent him from actually getting very far. As it is, the only thing he manages to do is bump his forehead against Sakura's, which has both of them groaning in pain even as Mitsuki's heart continues to race so quickly that it would put an Olympic-level athlete to shame. All the while, Sakura's ringtone blares at full volume, only slightly muffled from where it sits in his pocket.

"Fuck, who the hell is…" Sakura curses under his breath as he unwinds his arm from around Kiryu's middle and pulls his phone out of his pocket, then curses again a little louder when he sees who's calling. As he answers the call, Mitsuki lets the hand still holding Sakura's collar in a death-grip fall back to the desk and drops his head against Sakura's chest, trying desperately to steady both his heart and his breathing.

On the other end of the line, Mitsuki can make out Nirei's worried voice, which is then abruptly cut off and replaced with Suo's cheerful tone—no doubt fully aware of exactly what they've been up to and sounding all too happy to interrupt them, if only to rile up Sakura even more.

"I'm telling you, we're fine," Sakura is saying, sounding more than a little disgruntled. "We were just—talkin', that's all." A pause. "Yes, for that long—Sh-shut it! If anything, you don't sound out of breath enough! You're patrolling, not taking a goddamn stroll!"

Mitsuki laughs, his face still hidden in Sakura's chest; it doesn't take a genius to figure out what Suo must be saying in response. Like this, he feels more than hears the way Sakura chokes.

"Stop laughing," Sakura hisses at him, evidently too thoroughly mortified for his words to carry any real heat, and then, "Not you, I was talkin' to—actually, yeah, you too! Stop laughin' at me! Don't act dumb, of course he's gonna be here, he was the one who asked—no, you know what? I'm done with this conversation. Tell Nirei to send your location." Another pause. "Because you're bein' a pain in the ass, that's why!"

Mitsuki can hear more laughter on the other end of the line. He lifts his head up and calls out, "We'll be there soon, Suo-chan!" just before Sakura ends the call with far more force than is required for pressing a single button.

"‘Just wants to make sure everything is alright,’ my ass," Sakura grumbles. "I'm sure he knows goddamn well what we were—" He cuts himself off, surely being hit with a fresh wave of embarrassment, and he slumps forward to rest his head on Mitsuki's shoulder. "God, they're never gonna let me hear the end of it."

Mitsuki brings his hand up to pat Sakura's head, thrilled at the easy way Sakura seeks out comfort from him. "Well, that makes both of us. I'm pretty sure Nire-chan and Suo-chan both have had me figured out for a while."

Sakura just groans, the sound slightly muffled by the fabric of Mitsuki's shirt.

A moment later, a cheerful ping! rings out in the otherwise quiet classroom. Sakura lifts his head and sits back up, and Mitsuki briefly mourns the loss of contact before he remembers—they'll have plenty of time, plenty more moments like these, from now on.

"That must be Nire-chan," Mitsuki muses aloud. He steps back from the desk and holds out his hand. "Shall we get going, then?"

Sakura nods once, taking Mitsuki's hand without hesitation as he hops down from the desk—although, Mitsuki notes with no small amount of delight, the tips of his ears have turned red once more.

"By the way, Sakura-chan," Mitsuki pauses just before they reach the doorway, turning around so that he can face Sakura, "if you ever want to take another look at my piercings, all you need to do is ask!"

An angry blush spreads across Sakura's face—a sight that Mitsuki thinks he will never tire of seeing—as he fumbles for a response. "All of you need to stop makin' fun of me," he complains petulantly, but he doesn't let go of Mitsuki's hand as he storms out of the classroom—doesn't even let his grip loosen.

Mitsuki just laughs brightly, feeling lighter than he has in a long time. Now, he can see Sakura—all of him—as he is; he can hear all the words he does not yet know how to say that lie concealed in the warmth of his hand, the firmness of his grip.

And this time Mitsuki knows for certain: there will be no more running away.