Archive of Our Own

“Wait, you’ve never kissed anyone before? Really? Man, you’re such a loser!”

Raito threw back his head and laughed. Tomoro scowled. He wasn’t sure how they’d even gotten onto the topic of kissing, but he was definitely annoyed that Raito found it so freaking hilarious.

They were sitting on the one lone balcony at Glowing Dawn’s headquarters, a plate of half-eaten mango slices between them. The mangoes were from Raito. He’d arrived with a box of them in tow, Monodramon by his side, and claimed he’d bought too many and was looking to unload them. If Reina had been home, she would’ve immediately snatched the box and laid into Raito for not budgeting properly while grocery shopping, all while Pristimon frowned at him in disapproval from their perch on Reina’s head.

But Reina and Pristimon weren’t home. They’d gone with Makoto and Chiropmon on an errand with Yoshimura. Kyo and Cougarmon were at Nirinso, so Tomoro and Gekkomon had been home alone until Raito and Monodramon had shown up.

For some reason, Raito had recently developed a habit of randomly showing up at Glowing Dawn’s headquarters and he always brought food. A watermelon. A box of cookies. A bag of carrots. Once he’d brought enough okonomiyaki for everyone, claiming Hotaruko had asked him to get rid of an order that a customer hadn’t picked up, but the okonomiyaki had been suspiciously hot for food that had been sitting out long enough for Hotaruko to write off as a loss.

The random food gifts made Reina suspicious and she would wonder aloud what ulterior motives Raito had. Makoto had been a little curious as well, but Kyo simply welcomed every gift and always invited Raito and Monodramon to make themselves at home. Gekkomon, being Gekkomon, looked forward to the visits and always encouraged Raito to bring more food next time.

Tomoro personally found these random visits a little strange too, but at the same time, he always felt a little excited whenever Raito showed up. He’d never in a million years admit it to anyone, but he worried about Raito. Why, exactly, he wasn’t sure. Maybe because he’d seen Raito at his lowest as that broken boy so desperate for validation and consumed by guilt for what he’d done. Maybe because Raito was so insistent on being alone with no deep ties to anyone except his digimon. Hotaruko and Granit didn’t think he had any friends. None except Tomoro.

And that was also strange because they couldn’t really be called friends, could they? After all, Raito had called him his rival, but were people usually this relaxed around their rivals? Could they sit and talk for what felt like ages with their rivals? Or share a plate of fruit on a balcony while their digimon played down below?

Each time Tomoro saw him, Raito seemed a little brighter and more talkative. Tomoro figured he’d always been the sort of person who could easily fill a silence, but the way Raito spoke now was different. He still bragged about himself, but he bragged about Monodramon just as much. He laughed when he shared stories about Kaito and Honoka’s one-sided love for him. His tone dipped into fondness when he talked about Hotaruko and Granit.

But one thing about Raito hadn’t changed. He still enjoyed teasing people and winding them up, pushing their buttons until they got annoyed with him and then gleefully making fun of them for losing their cool.

Come to think of it, Raito was the one that had brought up the topic about kissing. Somehow they’d gone from talking about hobbies to a story about Honoka’s attempts to get Kaito to notice her with her cooking and then to that “who was your first kiss?” question. And Tomoro had responded honestly, not seeing that the silly little question was, in fact, a trap.

“What’s so funny about that?” Tomoro demanded. “It’s not like you’ve kissed anyone before.”

Raito leaned back on his hands, a lazy smile on his face. “What makes you think that?”

“The fact that you’re an asshole.”

“Ooh, ouch.” Raito’s smile widened to a smug grin. “Guess the people who’ve kissed me didn’t think that.” Chuckling, he ruffled Tomoro’s hair and patronizingly added, “But don’t worry. There’s no shame in being a late bloomer.”

Tomoro’s scowl deepened. Raito had it all wrong. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact he’d never kissed anyone before. With everything going on, he’d never really thought about it. Well, maybe once or twice, but it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it. There were bigger issues at hand.

So no, he wasn’t ashamed, he was just annoyed that Raito was teasing him. And the most infuriating thing was that Tomoro believed him. Raito’s personality left a lot to be desired, but he wasn’t bad-looking. Tomoro could even grudgingly admit that he was really good-looking. Still, it bothered him. It bothered him that Raito was so amused about all this. And it bothered him even more that someone else—maybe several someones—had kissed Raito.

“Yeah, well, I bet you’re a lousy kisser,” Tomoro said and slapped Raito’s hand away.

Raito frowned, insulted. “What?”

“Because you’re so selfish.” Tomoro smiled condescendingly. “Boy do I feel sorry for all the people you’ve kissed.”

Raito scoffed and folded his arms. “You wish. I’m a great kisser.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. In fact, I bet I could show you a thing or two about kissing.”

There was a challenge in Raito’s voice and Tomoro was never one to back down from a challenge. He dropped a hand on the ground and leaned into Raito’s space, staring straight into his eyes. Eyes that always gleamed in response to a challenge. Eyes that reminded him of a sunset.

“Prove it,” Tomoro said.

Raito unfolded his arms. Without breaking eye contact, he dropped his hands on the ground and leaned closer. Fingertips grazed Tomoro’s hand, sending a spark the kicked his heartbeat into overdrive.

“Maybe I will,” Raito said, his voice dropping an octave as he bumped his forehead against Tomoro’s.

“Then go ahead. I dare you.”

“You dare me?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Real mature, stupid.”

Some rational part of Tomoro’s mind whispered that he should tell Raito to back off because they were getting into strange, uncharted territory, but he didn’t want to. It was always Raito who had the upper hand in these types of conversations. Raito, with his easy smile and stupidly grandiose confidence, never got flustered, but he was getting flustered now, wasn’t he? His cheeks were faintly pink, his breathing just a bit too quick, and he was hesitating. That alone made Tomoro want to keep goading him on, just to see what he would do.

The only problem was that Tomoro could feel himself getting flustered too, but he couldn’t back down now. So he kept his gaze steady and tried not to gasp when Raito gently grabbed his chin, thumb lightly brushing his bottom lip. His breath caught in his throat when Raito closed his eyes. His own eyes slid shut, e-Pulse and heartbeat thrumming together like the opening notes of a song, and—

“Ki ki ki! You lost! You lost!

Tomoro’s eyes flew open at the sound of Gekkomon’s shrill cackle and sing-sing taunt. Raito’s did as well. For one heart-stopping second, they stared at each other. Then, with twin gasps, they flew apart to opposite ends of the balcony. Raito’s face was bright red, his breathing ragged. A hand fisted the material of his shirt, right over his heart. Raito had never looked more undignified, but Tomoro didn’t feel victorious. Not when he felt just as embarrassed as Raito looked.

“You lost, Monodramon!”

Tomoro looked down. Gekkomon and Monodramon had apparently been playing some sort of makeshift ring toss involving the discarded hula hoops they’d found on the way to town one day and stacks of cans that Gekkomon had definitely dug out of the recycling bin. Monodramon was saying something, but Tomoro couldn’t hear them over Gekkomon, who was still gloating over his win and triumphantly holding two of the hula hoops up. Normally, it was kind of cute that Gekkomon got along so well with Monodramon, but all Tomoro felt this time was irritation. Did his digimon have to be so loud?

“I, um, sh-should be going,” Raito stammered.

Tomoro turned to Raito. He was still sitting with his back pressed to the balcony’s railing. Tomoro tried to meet his eyes and Raito hastily looked away.

“Already?” Tomoro asked, his voice coming out higher than he would’ve liked. “But weren’t you going to show me?”

“I . . .” Raito drifted off and rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze flickering between the ground and Tomoro’s face. Then, as if an idea had popped in his head, he locked eyes with Tomoro and that lazy, cat-like smile returned. “Oh, I get it. You want me to teach you.”

“Huh?” That wasn’t what Tomoro had been thinking at all, but he could roll with it. “Teach me?”

“Teach you how to kiss,” Raito said smugly. “Right? So you can have a little practice before you kiss someone for real.”

Tomoro huffed a laugh. “You’d be a shitty teacher.”

Raito scooted back to the center of the balcony. He picked up one of the forks left on the plate, pierced a mango slice, and popped it in his mouth. Tomoro watched him for a moment, then inched closer, settling back into the same spot he’d been in earlier.

“Nah, I know I’d be a good one.” Raito pierced the last mango slice and teasingly waved the fork in Tomoro’s face. “I used to tutor people back when I was still in school. And the first step in any great lesson is assessment.”

Tomoro grabbed Raito’s wrist. He hesitated, then ate the mango slice off Raito’s fork. Chewing slowly, he sat back and watched in fascination as Raito’s smug expression flickered with something that could only be described as stupefied surprise. But what did he think was going to happen if he waved food in Tomoro’s face?

“Assessment?”

Raito pulled his wrist free and dropped the fork on the empty plate. He moved the plate aside, criss-crossed his legs, and faced Tomoro directly, lips curling up into a mischievous smile.

“Yeah. Kiss me first so I can assess your technique.”

Tomoro licked his lips. This wasn’t playing out like how he thought it would, but what had he been hoping for exactly? And hadn’t he dared Raito to kiss him first?

“You want me to kiss you?” Tomoro asked slowly, just to make sure he wasn’t hearing things.

To his surprise, Raito made a strange, choking sound. His face flamed red. Then he scoffed and said, “Of course not. But you said you wanted me to teach you, so—“

“I never said that,” Tomoro interrupted.

“So I need to see where you’re at, okay?” Raito said, stubbornly ignoring Tomoro’s words.

Tomoro sighed. He mimicked Raito’s pose, shifting to face him directly, and said, “Okay, fine. Close your eyes.”

“Huh?”

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? “

“Uh, yeah. Okay.”

Raito closed his eyes. Tomoro leaned in closer and paused. What was he supposed to do now? Tentatively, he put his hands on the other boy’s shoulders. Raito flinched. Startled, Tomoro immediately withdrew his hands.

“S-sorry,” he stammered.

“It’s fine,” Raito whispered.

“But—”

“Tomoro, it’s fine.”

He didn’t think it was fine. Raito had looked like he’d been expecting a punch to the face, not a kiss. He wanted to ask what that had been about, but Raito’s eyes were still closed. He was still waiting.

Swallowing his nerves, Tomoro moved his hands up to cup his face and waited. Gradually, Raito relaxed, leaning into his touch with a soft sigh. Tomoro froze, his heart pounding with a vaguely familiar beat. A beat he associated with Raito. Raito, who smelled like mangoes and sunshine and was so warm and so, so close . . .

“Hey.”

“Huh?”

“Hurry up.”

Raito’s words were less a command and more like a plea. Tomoro sighed, pressing his forehead against his, and closed his eyes. The whole situation was so weird. He had just wanted to get the upper hand for once, but now it felt less like winning some imaginary battle and more like something else. Something nerve-wracking and exciting all at the same time.

“Don’t rush me.”

“Just hurry up and—”

Tomoro closed the distance between them, catching Raito’s mouth and swallowing his words with one breathless swoop. Raito made a stunned little sound, his mouth dropping open. Tomoro traced his bottom lip with his tongue and dove in again. Raito tasted sweet, sweeter than the mangoes they’d been eating. Hands knotted in Tomoro’s hair, urging him closer. Tomoro responded by deepening the kiss, breaking apart just long enough to hear how Raito gasped, then greedily kissing him again and again until their breathing grew too ragged and shallow. He felt dizzy, his heartbeat soaring to a crescendo accompanied by that familiar flicker of e-Pulse running beneath his skin.

Suddenly, Raito broke away with a gasp, turning so fast that Tomoro accidentally kissed his jaw. Breathlessly, he put a hand on Tomoro’s shoulder and lightly pushed him away.

“Time out,” Raito gasped.

Dismayed, Tomoro sat back and dropped his hands in his lap. He looked away, heartbeat pounding away to the thundering beat of his nerves. He worried that if he looked at Raito, his heart might explode. “That was bad, wasn’t it?”

Raito exhaled softly. “No, it wasn’t bad.”

“Then why’d you stop?”

“You didn’t need to breathe?”

Tomoro spared a glance in Raito’s direction. The other boy sat criss-cross and had his chin propped up in his hands, smiling that familiar cat-like smile, but his eyes were warm. He looked like he wanted to share a joke with Tomoro instead of laughing at his expense and that made Tomoro relax a little.

“I guess I did,” Tomoro said, laughing softly. He pulled his glasses off and wiped off a smudge with the hem of his shirt. “So . . . what’s your assessment?”

“Like I said, not bad, but there’s room for improvement.” Raito hummed softly, apparently mulling over some thoughts. Then he sat up straight and snapped his fingers. “You’re a drummer, right?”

Confused, Tomoro slid his glasses back on. “Yeah, why?”

“Then you know all about rhythm and timing. Kissing’s like that. Setting a beat, following the rhythm, listening to cues to stay on track. That’s all you have to do here. So . . .” Raito reached out and gently tugged on the hem of Tomoro’s jacket. “You wanna try again?”

Something about that silly little motion made Tomoro’s heart melt a little. Chuckling, he scooted closer, propped his chin up with his hand, and glanced up at Raito through his lashes. “Only if you set the beat.”

A funny little bashful look crossed Raito’s face. “Me?”

“You.” Tomoro smiled softly, enjoying the way Raito’s cheeks went pink. He closed his eyes and added, “Show me your beat, Raito.”

There were many things he wondered about Raito. What his past was like. How Monodramon had been born. What his life had been like under Naito. Why he was so insistent on getting stronger. Why he called Tomoro a rival instead of a friend. And maybe, just once or twice, he’d wondered what it would be like to get a kiss from him.

He figured Raito would kiss the way he fought, calculating and aggressively, but he didn’t. He moved slowly, brushing feather-light kisses against Tomoro’s cheeks, his jaw, and lingering on the mole beneath his mouth. He kissed like he was seeking permission, his hands tentatively circling around Tomoro’s waist like he wasn’t sure they had any right to be there.

Tomoro wasn’t used to slow. In everything, he moved fast, rarely leaving time to think, but these were Raito’s cues and he would prove that he knew what to do with therm. So he dipped his head and found Raito’s mouth, granting that permission with a kiss. The hands around his waist tightened. Tomoro followed the cues until their breaths harmonized, every nerve-ending beneath his skin singing. Time ceased to mean anything as Raito drew him closer and closer, guiding him up to his knees and then back down to sit on his lap. Then the world spun as Raito lost his balance and fell backwards, taking Tomoro with him. Their eyes flew open at the same time and they stared at each other. A beat passed. Tomoro felt a laugh bubbling up inside him and bit his lip to quell it, but a giggle bubbled out.

“Shut up, it’s not that funny,” Raito said, but the meaning of his words was lost between burbles of laughter. “Get off me, would you?”

Tomoro burst into laughter. He sat up, took Raito’s hands, and pulled him to sitting too. They sat side by side, their laughter eventually giving away to giggles and then companionable silence.

Then Raito gently shoulder-bumped Tomoro and asked, “What do you want me to bring you next time?”

Tomoro chuckled. He could practically hear Reina in his mind, shouting that Raito’d had ulterior motives after all. “So that’s why you’ve been coming by with food? You could’ve just said you wanted to kiss me.”

“Hey, nobody said I wanted to kiss you,” Raito said with a careless shrug. “I just felt bad for you because you’d never been kissed before.”

Tomoro felt he ought to be a little insulted, but he was more amused than anything else. “Uh-huh. So, what, you’re gonna bring me hamburger steak tomorrow and we’re gonna practice kissing again?”

Now Raito looked caught out. He stared at Tomoro, eyes wide with surprise, then looked away and scratched an imaginary itch on his cheek. “I mean, I can. If . . . If you want me to.”

“Yeah, no, I don’t think I want that.”

Raito’s expression sagged with such visible disappointment that Tomoro couldn’t help feel a little bad. So he got up on his knees, pushed the stupid bandanna up and out of the way, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Kiss me for real next time, okay?” Tomoro said, sitting back on his heels. “Without any stupid games or silly pretexts.”

Raito’s eyes lit up, as bright as a sunset over the sea. His expression softened into something sweet and hopeful.

“You think I wasn’t kissing you for real or something?” Raito asked.

Tomoro pretended to mull this over. “Not sure. Maybe you should kiss me again. Then I’ll tell you if it’s real or not.”

This time, Raito didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance between them again and kissed him.