After everything settled, they were the only ones left. Izuku was no stranger to being alone with Kirishima by any means, the two of them had spent more than enough time alone at this point. Movie nights included, days where Kirishima would fall asleep on his bed in his room and Izuku would have to pull out the futon and sleep on the floor.
There had been a myriad of times he had been left alone with him, left alone with just him. Except, there was just a bit of a problem this time–though it wasn’t so much of a problem now that Izuku thought about it–more so a predicament.
Kissing. Kirishima had done that–and had done that surprisingly well. Although it was in front of just about the whole class, and Bakugou. Izuku thought he might’ve died then. Here lay Midoriya, Izuku, comatose permanently thanks to the actions of a friend and classmate he’d met this year as U.A. continued to receive the award for most interesting school he’d ever been to that was helping him realize things that weren’t just hero related and were things he thought he’d never have the chance of learning because he was an absolute dweeb–
Izuku paused, realizing he needed to breathe, just a little.
He pulled in a deep intake of breath, sighing it out after a few seconds to steady his breathing. Kirishima had kept looking at him, on top of it all. Todoroki too, but Izuku had learned early on that Todoroki had a habit of just staring at everything. It was his natural, unperturbed state in life. That left Kirishima, whom he knew was not like Todoroki. And to his rather disgustingly observant brain, that meant something.
He was looking for something, and curiosity made him ponder what he was looking for. Izuku briefly considered that may have been his fault, partly, with how despondent he had become after initial contact–contact he hadn’t really been expecting.
A part of him wasn’t going to live it down, Izuku realized.
Kirishima was playing with the bottle that remained on the table, trying to spin it from the top rather than the way they’d been spinning it for that horrendous game from earlier.
Izuku scooted closer, watching comfortably, leaning forward before speaking, “I don’t k-know if it’ll work that way.”
Kirishima blinked at that, offering a laugh, “Ya’ think so? Kinda’ looks like a spinnin’ top though–you oughta’ think they’d finish the job.
Izuku smiled at that, quirking a brow up, “Then people would play with them r-rather than drink out of them.”
Kirishima turned to him, pointing the top part of the bottle in Izuku’s direction playfully, “This brand ain’t even that good.”
“No.” Izuku slowly raised himself up to full sitting height, stifling a giggle with his fingers, “No, it’s n-not. Whose bottle is it a-anyway?”
“Mighta’ been Yaomomo’s, looks expensive, never had it or even seen this bottle type before today,” Kirishima answered, Izuku reaching over and taking the bottle out of his grasp easily, eyes closing.
“It’s always k-kinda interesting, to see what everyone’s i-into.” Izuku examined the bottle, fingertips drawing out the contours, square bottom with pretty plastic wrapping. A testament to the skills he had in memorization, the ability to map things out even with his eyes closed.
It dawned on him just then. How exposed they were. Between that and the thoughts he kept having, thoughts of mouths and whispers. Wispy touches and flutters of eyelashes. Intimate, disgustingly intimate, far too close to be played off if anyone walked in. If anyone saw and questioned. Was he bold enough for the common room even?
Izuku turned his attention to Kirishima, eyes opening immediately, “Yeah?”
“–About earlier–with the, kiss and stuff..” The kiss Kirishima had no real business planting on Izuku's lips for the most part, no one had told him to do it there. No one had prompted. Could've been a kiss on the forehead, or his finger. Anywhere, but his lips--that was a decision Kirishima had made.
And it was a kiss Izuku had no business returning, no need for it, and yet here he was, wanting to, “What a-about it?”
“Are you okay with that, ya’ looked kinda’ shaken,” Kirishima asked, rubbing the back of his neck, sheepish look to his face.
“Actually, a-about that, Kirishima,” Izuku started, setting the bottle aside and inching a bit closer, “Would you m-mind if I gave you another?”
Kirishima stared at him, stunned silence and all, “How co-..”
“Take it as me calling it e-even,” Izuku murmured quietly, looking back toward the closed doors and the gentle quiet that surrounded them.
“If you wanna,” Was the only response he got, a tentative one at that, eyes unwavering. Izuku couldn’t help but steel himself in return, more so out of respect than anything else.
Izuku shifted close enough until the sides of their legs were pressed together, leaning himself up a bit and stopping just short of Kirishima’s lips. He brought his left hand up, smoothing the pads of his fingertips over the back of Kirishima’s neck, bringing him down the extra few centimeters he needed. He slanted his head a bit, slotting their lips together and for a moment, Izuku couldn’t help but marvel at the differences. Soft, just like before, warm, well taken of, contrasting his own, which were probably just a bit too chapped for this type of affection.
He tried to move a bit closer, fingernails digging slightly into Kirishima's skin. His experience in this area was very meager, in that before this he didn't have mcuh at all. Izuku lacked the curiosity, ambition, didn't think anyone would. But here he was, twitching a bit when he felt Kirishima's own arm come over and hook around him. The angle was awkward, close but not close enough. Lips meshed, even closer than the kiss from before. Languid, slow, Kirishima's exploratory shifts, moving to close primarily over Izuku's bottom lip, the one Izuku messed with far too much.
That didn't seem to phase Kirishima, however, who drew another soft sigh out of Izuku with his ministrations. He parted his lips in response, Kirishima moving forward, his own lips set ajar as he closed around Izuku's again. Izuku wanted to bury his hands in Kirishima's hair, pull Kirishima closer, but he restrained himself. They'd gone on longer, than they should have, but that seemed that like the running theme about tonight.
Reluctantly, Izuku pulled away, the tip of his nose brushing lightly with Kirishima's, whose eyes fluttered open following Izuku's own doing the same. They stayed quiet, Izuku watching him in their brief pocket of silence. There was a light tint of red dusting his cheeks, red as his eyes, red as his hair. It made Izuku laugh, which prompted a confused flicker of blinks.
"So--," Kirishima asked curiously, shifting eyes elsewhere, "Is this okay?"
There was a smile on his face as Izuku spoke, “No," He teased, "C-clearly not."
"Oh come on, Midoriya, don't do this to me--"
The next laugh was loud, snort-y almost, capturing Kirishima's lips in another kiss before talking.
"Yeah--we're e-even now."