Ripped Love Letters / Isagi Yoichi

VIII

Kazuya had his elbows propped onto a wooden picnic table with his fingers tangled in his red strands of hair. His tears fell with taps onto the rotting material-- a few sobs escaping his throat unintentionally.

On the other side of the table Isagi sat with a lowered head, and weaved fingers on the table. His lips were pursed, as if he was thinking about the right thing to say. The air around them was heavy, filled with confusion and questions that were yet to be answered.

"Kazuya."

Shakily, his amber eyes lifted and silently gesturing him to continue. Isagi's throat went dry, and his vision become blurry, "Do you like guys?"

In a sharp breath, he said, "I do." He leans his head back to hold his tears, "I'm sorry if that bothers you."

"It...doesn't. In all honesty, I think I do as well."

Kazuya's eyes widened, "Huh?"

"I think I like guys too." He whispered, lowering his head.

"Isagi! Sorry, my closet door wouldn't budge open! I had to eat breakfast in a hurry." Kazuya fumbled with his jacket vest, fingers slipping on the line of blue buttons.

He snickered, "Stuck in a closet, huh? I guess I could say the same."

Kazuya looked up, watching the sun shine from behind Isagi, serving him in all the right angles. His jawline was defined, strands of unkempt hair sticking to his forehead from sweat.

His collar bones peeked out from his white shirt, flexing with every movement. A single drop of sweat slid down his neck, into his damp shirt. The white shirt he sported was no longer white, but a creamy white from all of his sweat.

Isagi's fingers twitched-- he could feel Kazuya's widened eyes searching him for answers.

His heart pounded in his chest, "Can I kiss you?"

Taadaki pulled Isagi's forearm towards himself, leaning in. In a swift movement, his lip pressed against Isagi's, a bruise already forming on them. He intertwined his fingers with Isagi's in one hand, and held the side of his neck with the other.

Isagi's eyes slowly closed, his fingers instinctively tightening around Kazuya's. Breathless, he pulled away-- "...That was nice, can we do it again?"

This time, Kazuya let Isagi's hand cup his face, another hand tracing patterns onto his back. His stomach was doing flips, and he was sure Isagi could feel his heartbeat.

His knees felt weak, and so did his hands. They had a slight tremble as they gripped the table to not fall onto it.

His legs were half standing, half sitting-- he was obviously making an effort to sit up. He was tired, but kept regaining his energy with small intakes of air, and seeing Isagi's face red and eyes half-lidded.

Tears mixed into the tastes of their kisses, the flavor making the euphoria even greater. This was something Kazuya could get behind.