Just A Little Bit Shy

Taste - 7

Ahane's thumb was digging slightly into his shoulder. It was moving in a slow circle, almost massaging the muscle there — and Y/n was left nonfunctional, as it pressed over the small bony tendon and squeezed the firm fibers of his deltoid. The rest of Ahane's fingers were digging into the back of his shoulder; a very distinct clawing motion, one that pulled at the cotton of his shirt. Y/n felt his lips part, his tongue wet them uncertainly, and all the saliva in his mouth evaporate. He wasn't — people never touched him. And Ahane had been doing nothing but touching him. All night. Y/n...

Y/n didn't know what to do, or how to react to it. And Ahane gripped harder; dug those fingers in deeper and an unfamiliar jolt shot through Y/n's gut. But then the other boy was pulling Y/n closer.

"You can sit right here," Ahane's voice seemed deeper in the (h/c) boy's ear as he was guided into the booth by the persisting grip on his shoulder.

A strange sensation of weakness in his legs had Y/n nearly collapsing into the booth. The cushions were a bright faux red leather that squeaked as Y/n shuffled towards the wall, intending to make room for the others. Not that — under normal circumstances, the (h/c) boy would always assume everyone would avoid him. Would go to great lengths to forget his existence entirely, if they would not resort to insulting him or demeaning him. Yet, Ahane's fingers were only now sliding away from him, leaving a wake of tingles as they smoothed over his shirt. And with the way the other boy was not moving away yet, Y/n could only assume — could only assume Ahane might... sit with him.

Ahane's blue eyes were darker in the dimmer light of the karaoke private room. And his lingering stare was a heavy, scorching pressure on Y/n. It had a strange flush encompassing the (h/c) boy's chest, creeping up his neck. It also had Y/n fumbling for a brief second trying to get himself seated properly. The (h/c) boy did not know what to do under all this direct attention.

Y/n pointedly kept his stare on the glossy, varnished surface of their table. The (h/c) boy flinched, knocking his shoulder against the wall next to him when, without preamble, Ahane sat down on the same booth bench — and scooted until he was nearly pressed flush against Y/n. The (h/c) boy tried to jerk his leg out of the way, because Ahane's thigh was right against his — was there not enough room? — but then there was a low, breathy chuckle.

"No need to squash yourself against the wall, Y/n," Ahane's tone was amused, but Y/n could barely hear it. Not when Ahane's arm snaked out behind him, resting against the top of the cushion behind Y/n's neck. Mere centimeters away. All Y/n could hear was the blood rushing in his ears; all he could feel was the heat rising in his cheeks. Ahane's leg pushed into Y/n's again — "You're comfortable as you are."

Y/n had practically fallen into Ahane's body heat, and it was unlike anything he had felt before. A distinct shock rocked through him from head to toe, exciting every nerve in his body. Even his scalp tingled. Y/n's mind was gone; all his thoughts on — no one's ever touched me; no one has ever been pressed close to me; not while they were alive and still warm — exiting his head when he felt Ahane's fingers lazily hover over his shoulder, curling into his shirt sleeve and idly tugging on it. Y/n felt he was barely suppressing every flinch and shiver, overwhelmed and overstimulated. Ahane's index and middle finger pinched the cotton and pulled on his sleeve —

(E/c) eyes kept themselves stubbornly on the table varnish. His own hands twitched before he placed them respectfully in his lap. He — Y/n wanted to touch Ahane back, even if just to put some distance between them because he couldn't think, or perhaps more treacherously because Ahane felt solid and warm, his, but —

"Water!" Sara suddenly shouted, slamming her painted nails against the table's surface. Her bracelets rattled.

Her spectacle was enough to encourage Y/n to finally lift his gaze. Sara's eyes were wide, her face strangely red, and she quickly cleared her throat — averting her gaze when her eyes accidentally strayed Y/n's way.