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"What the hell are you talking about, man?" you sighed through gritted teeth.
Tossing your head back to rest against the back of the sofa you fixated on a point in the ceiling. Blood was rushing in your ears and every heartbeat felt like a kickdrum straight to your chest. There was a crack running through the ceiling tile that you studied in more depth than was strictly necessary but you’d take anything over looking at the boy in front of you.
“C’mon I know you heard me, don’t make me say it again!”
“This is ridiculous, even for you Narancia.”
The couch you sat on was plush, the upholstery thick yet satiny to the touch. As your fingers ran up and down the armrest you focused on the touch of the cool fabric to ease your mounting annoyance. You weren’t even a part of his gang, you were just a runner making deliveries as ordered by your own captain. This wasn’t your first time making deliveries to Bruno and his crew, which is partly the reason why he allowed you to take some time to rest before going on your way, but--
“I mean, why don’t you go ask Fugo or something? There's gotta be someone better besides me around here.”
All you heard was a frustrated grunt before a hand at the collar of your shirt pulled you forward to face the newly appointed bane of your existence. His name may have been reminiscent of sweet oranges but right now his face looked more like a tomato. The tension in his furrowed brow alongside the desperate glint in his eye did nothing to quell your rising confusion. You were so close that you could feel his hot breath against your cheek and yet you couldn’t tell if he was just supremely embarrassed or angry enough to actually kill you… or both.
“What makes you think Fugo would know anything about this?!”
Narancia’s face was growing redder than you previously thought was humanly possible, and as he wound his hand tighter in your shirt you could feel your collar dig into the tender skin of your neck. Okay so it was definitely both. Quickly grasping his wrist with one hand you gave it a squeeze tight enough that Narancia yelped in pain. A twinge of guilt shot through you as tears welled in his eyes, but at least you had gotten him to let go of you.
“Why would I ask him? I can’t ask him!” he whined, cradling his wrist while giving you the biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. You were sure you hadn’t squeezed that hard, and anyone who had been in Passione from as young an age as he had could take some pain. He was just trying to make you feel bad. It was working.
“Okay let me get this straight.” you said, holding back yet another sigh. “You’ve never kissed anyone before, but there’s someone you want to kiss. So to fix your lack of experience, you want me, of all people, to teach you?”
“Um, yes?”
The glare you had leveled at him did nothing as he had his eyes trained at the ground, feet shuffling every so often through the carpet as his fidgeted. Red was blotched on his face and the furrow in his brow deepened. He still looked like he couldn’t decide between being embarrassed or angry, the only thing different now was that he had tears in his eyes. Each beat of your heart seemed unbearable and your fingertips were starting to tingle. Where did this little punk get off anyways? Using you like a disposable resource, probably just so he could go impress some random girl he met. But, it didn’t look like he was going to leave anytime soon, and if this was the only way to get rid of him then--
“Fine.”
“Huh? Wait really?!” Narancia choked out a laugh. Disbelief was plain on his face and he looked like he was about to say more but you continued before he could speak. Better to interrupt his train of thought there before he gets brave and asks for something truly absurd.
“Yeah, just sit down before I change my mind.” you said, thumping your hand onto the cushion beside you. The speed at which he followed your request was almost comical. Excitement rolled off him in waves and he seemed to vibrate as he locked eyes with you expectantly.
“Uhm… okay,” Your throat had gone dry. It was easy to forget how pretty Narancia truly was. What with how often he would turn up with a bloody nose or black eye from getting into an entirely avoidable fight, and with how quickly his temper flared into violence, his beauty was the first thing a person would overlook in favor of watching out for flying fists. But he really was pretty, pretty in a way that other guys just weren’t. His eyes were wide and dark framed by full lashes that drooped over his cheekbones. Plush lips sat under a button nose and there seemed to be a permanent rosy glow to his cheeks even when they were covered in scratches or band-aids. A laugh rose in your throat as you realized he’d probably punch you if you said any of that out loud. That’d be one way to get him to leave you guessed, if you had seriously wanted that.
“Okay what?” Narancia parroted back at you, impatience evident in his tone.
“Okay well, if--if you want to kiss someone the most important thing to remember is that you have to let them know you mean it. Even if you don’t actually want it to mean anything! If you want it to be good, you have to show them that they’re something special. Make it clear that what’s going on between you is real.”
You were talking out of your ass but Narancia didn’t seem to care. Actually, for someone who was so hellbent on having you do this he didn’t seem like he was paying much attention at all. His eyes kept flickering away from your face, down to your neck, to your collarbone, your lips, back to your neck. Color still bloomed across his cheeks and his hands were clenched in the softness of the couch.
“Yeah?” he breathed, “how do you do that?”
“You have to--” you stopped to clear your throat, feeling heat rise to your face. “You have to use your body.”
“Show me.”
“You can start by doing something like this,” your voice petered out into a whisper as you shot your hand out to graze his neck. Snaking it around so that you had a firm grasp on the nape of his neck, he tilted his head to rest it your hand. Something hot coiled low in your stomach as you saw the column of his throat was exposed to you, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.
“And then you can just--”
Your other hand alighted on his hip, fingertips worming their way underneath his shirt to rub at the smooth skin at the small of his back. Kneading your thumbs persistently into his flesh you used your hold as an anchor to draw him forward. Narancia’s eyes were already fluttering closed as you drew nearer. Each breath he let past his parted lips was distracting. It was hitched and irregular and you hadn’t even touched him yet. Not really, not as much as you could have.
Moisture shone on his lips, making them glisten in the afternoon light that filled the room. Desire for more was written all over his face but you didn’t want to satisfy him just yet. Leaning past his nervously puckered lips you nestled into his exposed neck, pressing short kisses and nips up his throat until it blossomed pink. You felt Narancia’s body shudder against yours as a whine cut through the relative quiet of the room and you felt whatever heat coiling in you snap. Curling your tongue around the back of his ear you let out a huff of air and tightened your hold on his waist. The skin beneath your fingers gave easily as you pressed his back against the cushions of the couch, hovering over him as you continued to mouth at his jaw.
Salty wetness slipping past your lips is what made you pull back. Narancia looked wrecked, tears were rolling down cheeks as his chest rose and fell rapidly in an attempt to steady his breathing. Shooting a glance down to where you knees were locked on either side of his hips you saw a tightness in his pants that you decided pointedly to ignore.
“Hey,” his voice was gravelly and low, set to play at a timbre you’d never heard before. “Why’d you stop?”
By this point he had propped himself up on his elbows to glare at you through his messy bangs.
“I just,” your eyes fell on his lips, flushed pink and swollen. He must have been biting them while you were--the breath you were letting out caught in your throat as a shock of pleasure pulsed in your groin. The increased pressure in your own pants was labeled as another thing for you to ignore in the present moment.
“I was just going to say that now is the time you’d usually--”
Lips crashed into yours without any prior warning. A tongue licks its way into your mouth and your teeth clack against one another as Narancia lets out a gasp that you swallow in the same breath. There was a hand at the hollow of your throat and another clutching your thigh. Before you knew it Narancia had you pinned to the couch as he raised your leg up to wrap it around his waist. The soft textile of the cushions underneath you drew your shirt up as you were pulled underneath him. When Narancia dove back in to press his lips to the corner of your mouth before gently sucking at your tongue you could feel him grinding his hardness against your own.
While throwing your head back to let out a moan broke your kiss, Narancia didn’t seem to mind. He shifted seamlessly from your lips to biting at your neck and collarbone. Gentle nips and open mouthed kisses sent jolts of pleasure to the place where your hips were joined.
This didn’t make any sense. Narancia was so confident, his movements were so sure, languid and unhurried as he pulled the collar of your shirt down to mouth at your chest. It was almost like he…
“Narancia!” you exclaimed, forcing his name out on a sharp exhale of air. “Narancia, hold it!”
He froze halfway through trailing his tongue up your neck, roughly wiping his mouth across the back of his hand before retreating from the warmth of your body.
At least he had the decency to look properly embarrassed this time around. His eyes refused to meet yours, but you could tell from the upward tug at the corner of his mouth that while he was embarrassed he wasn’t actually all that sorry.
“This isn’t your first time is it?” you huffed out in barely concealed rage. Your face felt like it had been set alight, and the fact that you ached for him to put his hands back on your thighs and lips to your throat only made things worse.
“I mean,” the smirk playing across his lips grows wider “technically--”
“Narancia you little shit! ”
He wasn’t expecting you to lunge at him from your laid back position on the couch. And when he toppled over the armrest onto the floor in a desperate bid to scramble away he definitely didn't expect you to throw yourself over the armrest and onto the floor with him. You weren’t sure whose shouts were the ones that drew the attention of the others but if it wasn’t yours, than Narancia’s were definitely loud enough to get the job done. In the end you think it was Mista who had to pry the two of you off each other, and by then he was yelling too, though more out of confusion than anything else. You don’t think you’re going to make deliveries to Bruno’s again any time soon.