i was listening to kiss me by ed sheeran and the urge to write a kiss hit me smack in the forehead. the biggest, weirdest urge. so enjoy the shortest, sloppiest drabble i made in less than thirty minutes.
There’s an air that surrounds them. Warm, staticky, electrifying. Unidentifiable. Makoto glances at Haruka, who’s uncomfortable, except he’s moving closer, gripping the cuff of his blazer. Makoto stops abruptly.
“What’s wrong, Haru?” Makoto asked softly, gently. His voice drips with fondness and adoration. Haruka’s chest tightens.
There’s that look in his eyes, a vast blue twinkling with expectancy. Makoto blushes.
Haruka tiptoes, lips brushing against Makoto’s. It leaves a trail of flames in its wake, just like the fingertips that trace Makoto’s forearm. Anything this boy does is breathtaking.
Ocean salt burns his lungs, just like the closeness of their bodies. Knees to knees, torso to waist, heart to heart. Their eyes flutter closed, and lips connect.
No matter how much they do it, no matter how absentminded it is, no matter how meaningless it could be, Makoto’s skin burns into sparks, fingers in Haruka’s hair, lips moving in sync with their beating hearts.
Mackerel still lingers on his tongue when they pull away, breathless and flushed.
“I love you,” Haruka stated, arms wrapping around his waist, clinging so desperately to the only solace in his life. Makoto is speechless, and his eyes burn, reciprocating the craved touch.
“I love you too,” he mouthed against Haruka’s hair.
In which you can’t smile to anyone who isn’t your soulmate. But then, your OTP is just lying in the couch together watching some movie and one of them cracks a joke. Then they’re both laughing and when they finally stop they just sit there looking into each other’s eyes thinking “oh…”.