[ he feels a flare of regret the second it hits them both just how drastic and bold nisaka's gesture had been. the urge to crawl into the darkest hole and die there is strong, but before he can even think to move away and take it all back, a pair of strong hands made rougher from a summer's worth of intensive sports training's got him weighted down. he's keenly aware of the fact his hips are just a few inches short of being flush with kuroo's, and he's a little dizzy from how much his mind oscillates between the desire to scoot closer and discover if there's something to find there, or slide back until he's falling on the ground and can blame a broken hip on his sudden inability to process anything properly.
they're kissing again, and nisaka is left to wonder why they had waited so long to do this. kissing is definitely amazing and kuroo knows what he's doing. nisaka's positive all he's doing is stumbling along, attempting to catch up, but he hopes his sloppiness and inexperience is made up for by his enthusiasm, hands slipping up over broad shoulders before finally burying into those thick tufts of wild hair he can never make sense of. he quickly finds his new favorite thing to do is suck on that pouty lower lip of kuroo's only to leave delicate little marks with his teeth. kuroo's skin flushes so easily there, and it leaves nisaka wondering where else in kuroo's body he gets so pink and swollen and
oh fuck it. he can feel his thighs clench and seize up from his meager restraint; he's gone this far, what's a few more inches? the shuffling itself seems louder than he would have liked it to be, all bedsheets and jeans disagreeing with each other. but soon enough he has nothing else to think of but the fact he's sitting on kuroo, he's sitting on kuroo, he's sitting on kuroo, he's sitting on kuroo. the faint pressure and friction between them is enough to draw out a startled moan from his lips, too sharp to have any hope of being buried between their lips. he guesses this is how he dies. oh well. he lived a good life, he supposes. rip. ]
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they're kissing again, and nisaka is left to wonder why they had waited so long to do this. kissing is definitely amazing and kuroo knows what he's doing. nisaka's positive all he's doing is stumbling along, attempting to catch up, but he hopes his sloppiness and inexperience is made up for by his enthusiasm, hands slipping up over broad shoulders before finally burying into those thick tufts of wild hair he can never make sense of. he quickly finds his new favorite thing to do is suck on that pouty lower lip of kuroo's only to leave delicate little marks with his teeth. kuroo's skin flushes so easily there, and it leaves nisaka wondering where else in kuroo's body he gets so pink and swollen and
oh fuck it. he can feel his thighs clench and seize up from his meager restraint; he's gone this far, what's a few more inches? the shuffling itself seems louder than he would have liked it to be, all bedsheets and jeans disagreeing with each other. but soon enough he has nothing else to think of but the fact he's sitting on kuroo, he's sitting on kuroo, he's sitting on kuroo, he's sitting on kuroo. the faint pressure and friction between them is enough to draw out a startled moan from his lips, too sharp to have any hope of being buried between their lips. he guesses this is how he dies. oh well. he lived a good life, he supposes. rip. ]