#nishikiyama would get up to when they were her age. he would tell her how amazing nishiki was and how he always looked out for him how he

[twinvictim]

[Exerpt]

Rain gently tapped against the window, late November air seeped through the aging walls. Nishiki and Kazuma were huddled under his blanket. Too close to be appropriate at their age, both of them recently sixteen as of a handful of months ago. During the day they wouldn't dare be so close, hands and shoulders rubbing up against one another shivering. Things were always less of an act when they were alone. Honesty was easy now, taking off a mask they were learning to put up, at least slightly,  things could be taken the wrong way, or what other people said was wrong, but what they felt was just them. Kazuma was now Kiryu in front of everyone else, though he couldn't get the hang of Nishikiyama, and Nishiki honestly didn't want him to. 

Nishiki was hyper aware of how close they were, thinking of it, almost obsessively. Kazuma's skin was always warm against his own, perfect as though they balanced each other out, his cold hands nestled in Kazuma's warmth. His head felt like it fit just perfectly on his shoulder, he tried to hold himself back when he could, but they were both drunk and he let it be an unspoken excuse. 

A bottle of nearly empty whiskey rested off to the side where Nishiki had tossed it when they realized that between it and stolen beers they were a little too dizzy for their own good. Nishiki just as hyper focused on Kazuma's lips pressed to the bottle, how he mirrored him and could feel his heart skip a beat when he imagined how close their lips came to touching. He told himself it was the booze, that he just got too handsy and hormonal when drunk. He made an excess of excuses endlessly and let it bounce around his head to be grabbed when need be. 

He told himself that if Kazuma didn't want him to be so close, so touchy, he'd tell him, push him away. 

"What's going on with Yumi?" He couldn't help but ask, softly though the blue darkness of the room. The two of them stole glances at one another, Yumi always giggling or teasing him, and Nishiki hated how sour he felt when he saw them act this way. He wanted it to stay the same, a child in the sense that change was big and out of his control and constantly threatening to rip apart what he had. He resented Yumi for growing up just like they were, pretty, soft and sweet. Most importantly a girl, it wasn't that he didn't notice she was these things, that he didn't find her pretty. The conflating of these facts confused him, as he had no idea what he himself felt. 

"What do you mean?"

"I saw her looking at you like that," he prodded, unsure why he goaded Kazuma into these things despite his own feelings. "She clearly likes you, so what gives?" 

"...I don't know," Kazuma conceded eventually, looking sort of ashamed, "Are you sure she does? And…I don't know even if that's true…" 

"Of course it is," Nishiki tilted his head, still close, arms still touching, "She was asking you to sneak off to the roof the other day, honestly I kind of figured you went up there to make out." 

"What?" Kazuma flushed and shoved him lightly, Nishiki breaking into a wide smirk, "Don't be stupid, I didn't-I wouldn't…" 

"Wouldn't? Come on," he shoved him back, never strong enough to completely knock him over, "You like her too, you don't have to lie about liking a girl." 

"Y-yeah I guess so…" Kazuma kept his eyes downward, "But I wouldn't. Er, like, I don't know how so I couldn't, so no we weren't doing that." 

"What do you mean you don't know how?" 

"I haven't ever…" He shook his head, even in the dark room Nishiki could tell his face was flushed, "I-I don't know how to kiss somebody…"

"Tch, it's not hard." Nishiki rolled his eyes with his most casual tone, pretending like he knew what he was talking about, it wasn't like Kazuma would know better.

"Like you would know," Kazuma nudged him again, looking properly embarrassed.

"I do too," Nishiki insisted, though he didn't know why.

"Oh yeah?" Kazuma leaned forward, challenging him.

"Uh huh, not everyone's a loser-"

"Prove it." Kazuma interjected.

"...what?" Nishiki blinked, completely caught off guard, suddenly feeling a gentle heat bubble under his skin. Kazuma immediately shrinking away, embarrassed. 

"I-i mean I j-just," He stammered, crossing his arms over his chest, "Well since you know so much I just…"

"You want me to show you?" Nishiki blurted out though he attempted to keep his tone relaxed, even though he was dizzy and he felt strange excitement buzzing under his skin like electricity. 

There was a silence between them then, both too scared to cut the tension, someone had to back away or move forward and the two of them were trapped in this limbo. Nishiki teetered on the edge, but his head was still fuzzy, and excitement too palpable and his eyes rested on Kazuma's lips so long he felt like he was being invited closer. The breathy truth of the almost kiss from the whiskey bottle came to him, and in a haze he broke their stalemate. 

Nishiki leaned closer, inching closer to him, his breath reeked of liquor. In his mind he tried to replicate kissing he'd seen in movies or television, scared he'd miss, scared Kazuma would back out. He found his lips slowly, noses pressed against each other, he could taste alcohol and hints of candy Kazuma had looted out of his bag. Nishiki felt all that bubbling excitement settle gently, time appeared to stop around them. Even inexperienced Nishiki could tell it was awkward, but Kazuma's soft lips against his own made him feel like he was dreaming. 

When they pulled away a soft but confusing warmth permeated the space between them, Nishiki swallowed, the eye contact between them conveying information neither of them understood. 

Nishiki almost spoke, but the words fell flat behind his lips, Kazuma leaned back against the wall, inching his arm around Nishiki's shoulders and they migrated into what could only be called cuddling, though that wouldn't be the word they would have used had someone called them on it. Nishiki's head found its place between Kazuma's shoulder and chest, and Kazuma took to resting his chin on Nishiki's head. Looking down occasionally with a deep inhale like he wanted to imprint the smell of his hair In his memory. 

They didn't say anything else, they didn't need to, the most pure form of a first didn't require them to discuss it, so instead they cuddled close to one another and interlocked their fingers, as close as they ever could be. 

Nishiki felt Kazuma's breathing shift to a slow rhythmic cycle, and felt his hand loosen it's grip. Kazuma always was one to fall asleep first. 

Nishiki had a reasonable backlog of beloved childhood memories, but if there was one he thought back too most often that he would ache from, it was Kazuma's lips in the dark and he treasured it more than so much in his head.