Archive of Our Own

Kazuya has loved cars for as long as he can remember. 

In his earliest memory, his dad’s chest is firm and warm against his back, arm wrapped securely around his waist while Kazuya’s grabby hands paw at a steering wheel. There’s a ball cap on his head, crooked and too large, hair curling around his ears. He tugs at the wheel as if trying to turn it, and his dad’s chest rumbles against Kazuya’s back as he laughs, rusty and fond.

“You’re a little young to drive, kiddo,” Toku says, lifting Kazuya’s cap to ruffle his bangs affectionately. “But when you’re older, I’ll teach you all the fun tricks.”

His dad puts him in his own seat and buckles him in before turning back to the wheel and putting the key in the ignition. 

The engine roars to life like nothing Kazuya has ever heard before and it plagues Kazuya’s thoughts for the rest of the day. 

When he’s seven, Toku takes him to the drag strip for the first time. It’s loud and dirty and hot, but everyone is excited and friendly, and the cars are fast. Kazuya leans against the fence outside the race track, fingers curling in the links, eyes wide behind the frames of his glasses.

He itches to know what it’s like to drive. Exhilarating. Heart-pounding. Engines revving, mufflers spitting. He itches to watch the light turn from red to green while he’s in the driver’s seat, itches to feel the car rumble beneath his fingertips as he presses down on the gas.

He falls in love with racing that day.

And then he meets Sawamura Eijun.

---

Kazuya’s first kiss is a bit of a disaster. 

A pretty girl with dark eyes and long hair shoves an envelope in his hands, his name printed on the outside, neatly-scripted loops of letters spelling out Miyuki-kun in bright red. He blinks down at the letter, brain trying to catch up with the situation. “Uh,” Kazuya stumbles, looking back up at her with furrowed brows. “I’m sorry, what?”

She blushes and looks up at him from beneath the hood of long lashes. “I like you,” she admits. “I just - I think it’s really cool that you’re so good at driving and I really like your car!”

Well, that’s nice. 

Kazuya has been the reigning street racing champion in his hometown for the past two summers. His R34 GTR Nissan Skyline is his pride and joy. Midnight purple, shiny and eye-catching with black rims and a spoiler on the back.

Kazuya awkwardly shifts his weight between his feet, clearing his throat. “Thanks,” he says, fidgeting with the envelope in his hands. “I mean, I, uh. I appreciate it, but I don’t - uh. I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”

That’s not necessarily a lie, even though he knows it probably sounds like an excuse. He’s two weeks away from leaving for college - two weeks away from leaving the place and the people he’s called home since he first learned what the word meant.

He doesn’t need to add a relationship into the mix. 

“Oh, ah, okay,” she responds, glancing away shyly. She fiddles with her fingers and knocks her shoes together. “I understand. Thanks for hearing me out, anyway.”

She leans up then, so quickly that Kazuya startles, head jerking to the side. She aims to drop a kiss on his cheek, but his movement causes her to miss her target, lips brushing the corner of his mouth. It’s light, barely-there, but they both reel back, surprised, cheeks burning.

This is not at all how he imagined his first kiss going. 

He’s always imagined tawny irises and oil-stained hands, chapped lips and the familiar scent of honeysuckle and orange. The dip of his childhood mattress beneath his palms as he leans in, knocking his nose against a freckled cheek, familiar callused fingers fisting in the collar of his shirt, breathing out a soft, yearning, “Miyuki Kazuya.”

Kazuya has always imagined his first kiss going to Sawamura Eijun.

Eijun, with his eager hands, the same ones that have spent years pulling apart engines just to learn how to put them back together. With his loud mouth, the one that stretches wide whenever Kazuya lets him peak under the hood of his race car. 

The one that has haunted Kazuya since he was seven, since the first time Eijun threw his arms around Kazuya’s shoulders, the first time he turned a lopsided, boyish smile in Kazuya’s direction, saying, “You’re my best friend, Miyuki Kazuya!”

Kazuya’s gut twists as he thinks about it, thinks about what his first kiss could have been like, if things had been just a little bit different.

Kazuya gets so caught up in the what if, in the could have been, should have been, that he accidentally hands Eijun a torque wrench when he asks for a socket wrench later that evening while they’re sitting in the garage, a slew of engine parts scattered around them. Kazuya has his back against the wall, legs laid out in front of him while Eijun sits with his knees splayed wide, the remnants of a lawn mower resting between his thighs.

Eijun looks down at the tool that Kazuya offers him and frowns, brows furrowing. “Are you okay, Miyuki Kazuya?”

Kazuya blinks, cheeks burning when he realizes his mistake. Eijun might be the real mechanic between the two of them, but Kazuya knows the basic differences between his wrenches. He clears his throat and picks up the socket wrench, handing it to Eijun instead. “Of course,” he says, shrugging the mistake off. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Eijun rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to the small motor in front of him. He’s been trying to fix this lawn mower for the past couple of days, ever since the bookkeep across the street brought it into Toku’s shop, smiling sheepishly, saying, “I know it’s not a car, but do you think you could try to get this baby running again?”

“Okay, sure, we’ll pretend like you didn’t just hand me the wrong wrench,” Eijun mumbles, fiddling with a bolt. He tries to remove it, wiggling his knuckles in between the grooves of metal before him. Kazuya watches the way his fingers sweep over greased aluminum and tries not to think about what those hands might look like brushing over his skin instead. “You can tell me if something’s wrong, you know.”

Kazuya forces his gaze away. Of course he knows that. Eijun is his best friend. He’s the only person Kazuya would tell if something was wrong. “I’m fine,” he says, knocking his shoe against Eijun’s knee. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Eijun huffs and gives Kazuya an unimpressed look. “You’re all spacey,” he accuses, poking at Kazuya’s thigh with greasy fingers, leaving a smudge of oil over his jeans. “What, are you nervous about going off to college in a couple weeks or something?”

Ah. 

Well.

That’s an entirely different problem.

Kazuya is nervous about that. Not because he’s worried about what college might be like or if his classes might be too hard, but - this life, here, in this town, with his dad’s auto shop and Kazuya’s race car, with the drag strip and Eijun’s sunny smile, his loud laughter, his constant presence - 

It’s all Kazuya has ever known.

And in two weeks, all of that will change. 

Kazuya raises a brow, shifting in his seat. “That’s an awfully specific question,” he deflects playfully, trying to divert his attention from the sudden clamminess of his palms. “Sounds like maybe you’re nervous about me going off to college. Is that it?”

Eijun blows out his cheeks at the jibe, skin darkening as he turns a petulant glare in Kazuya’s direction. “Of course not!” he defends, fidgeting with the wrench in his hand, expression shifting into something shyer, a little sheepish. “But you better not go make a new best friend while you’re off at college!” he demands, frowning. “This Sawamura Eijun will be waiting for you to come back, so don’t forget about me.” 

What a ridiculous statement. Kazuya snorts, reaching over to pinch Eijun’s arm. “Like I could forget you,” he teases in all honesty. “You’re so loud, I’ll probably be able to hear you all the way from my dorm.”

Eijun ruffles, squawking as he reaches out to jab his fingers into Kazuya’s ribs in retaliation. “I am not loud!” he insists, nearly yelling in defense.

It’s hilariously ironic. 

Kazuya laughs, trying to catch Eijun’s hands to stop his assault, wrapping his fingers around Eijun’s wrists, feeling the bone of his radius dipping beneath his thumb. “Say it louder, why don’t you?” he retorts, grinning when Eijun’s brows pinch together. “That’ll make it more convincing.”

“Oh my God,” Eijun groans, fingers twisting to interlace with Kazuya’s, pushing back against his hold. He’s shifted in their shuffle, knee pressing into Kazuya’s thigh, temporarily forgetting about the engine he’d been working on. “And to think I’m actually going to miss you and your awful personality.”

Ah. Kazuya’s heart races in response to Eijiun’s admission. It’s not like he doesn’t know Eijun is going to miss him, but they haven’t really talked about it. 

They’ve both been dancing around the subject, pretending like Kazuya leaving for college is nothing more than a nebulous event on the faraway horizon instead of the very real reality right around the corner.

They’ve both been pretending like it’s fine, like it isn’t a big deal, like it’ll be easy to be apart from each other after twelve years of friendship, after twelve years of being around each other every single day. 

Kazuya’s gaze softens. He takes a deep breath and tries to calm the heavy pulse at the base of his throat. “I’ll be home for the holidays, you know,” he says quietly. “It’s only a few hours away to come visit.”

Eijun bites his lip, giving Kazuya a gentle smile, shifting to bump his shoulder to Kazuya’s in an affectionate gesture. “I know,” he responds, looking up at Kazuya from beneath the hood of his lashes. “But it won’t be the same.”

Eijun’s words settle in the space between them. They feel too warm, too real, so Kazuya squeezes Eijun’s fingers before letting him go. “Don’t worry,” Kazuya drawls, trying to ease the tension surrounding them. “I’ll be just as annoyed by your constant jabbering over the phone as I am in person.”

Eijun rolls his eyes, completely unimpressed by Kazuya’s insult. “You could just say that you’re going to miss me too, you know,” he mutters, reaching up to pinch Kazuya in the ear. “It’s not that hard.”

Kazuya winces at the assault, batting Eijun’s hand away. “Now, why would you want me to lie to you?”

Eijun huffs out a laugh, smiling fondly, completely used to Kazuya’s teasing, used to deciphering the truths underlying Kazuya’s deflections. “Whatever you say, Miyuki Kazuya,” Eijun responds, headbutting Kazuya in the shoulder. 

When Eijun straightens, he hovers close, too close, maybe, close enough for Kazuya to smell the lingering hint of his shampoo, to see the constellation of freckles dotting his cheeks, the cracks in his chapped lips, exacerbated by the pout on his mouth. There’s a flush over the rise of his cheekbones, drawing attention to the golden sunrises of his eyes, the soft line of his jaw, the bow of his lips.

He’s so pretty.

The what ifs from earlier seep back into Kazuya’s mind, clouding his thoughts, spinning around in his brain space. He clears his throat, licking his lips subconsciously. “I wasn’t thinking about college earlier,” he admits after a moment, carefully, eyes roaming over Eijun’s countenance. “I was… thinking about something else.”

Eijun’s expression shifts, a self-satisfied smile cracking over his features. “I knew it,” he says, voice hushed in the space between them. “C’mon then,” he pushes, nudging his leg further into Kazuya’s thigh. “Spill.”

Kazuya rolls his eyes, pinching the back of Eijun’s hand as it settles on Kazuya’s knee. “Brat,” he mutters, glancing away. He shifts awkwardly, reaching up to scratch at his neck. “I, uh. I got a confession today.”

Eijun’s breath catches, audible in the small space between them. He blinks a few times, mouth twitching, brows furrowing. “Oh,” he says belatedly. “Uh. That’s - that’s cool. How’d it go?”

Kazuya looks at Eijun from the corner of his eye, brain immediately working to overanalyze everything about his response. It’s abnormal for Eijun to be so subdued on the topic of romance. Every other time one of their friends has gotten a confession, Eijun has jumped into their space, eyes wide and smile bright, invisible tail wagging behind him, excited at the prospect of young love. 

Eijun doesn’t seem excited right now.

“It was fine,” Kazuya says slowly, watching the way Eijun’s frown deepens. “I turned her down,” he adds, chewing at the inside of his lip. “But, she, uh. She may have accidentally - we may have - “ He stumbles over his words, cheeks burning as he tries to get them out. “We accidentally kissed.”

Eijun’s expression shifts, relaxing for a moment, then scrunching back up. “What do you mean, accidentally?” he asks incredulously, eyes dropping to Kazuya’s mouth as if imagining the incident. “Was that - was that your first kiss?”

Eijun’s gaze darts back and forth, up and down, from Kazuya’s eyes to his mouth and back, and Kazuya’s blood rushes in his ears. “Yeah,” Kazuya admits after a moment, tone low. “We just - we both moved at the wrong time, is all.”

Eijun is quiet for a long, lingering moment before he inhales deeply, shoulders sliding down his back. “Ah,” he acknowledges, rolling his lips into his mouth. “Well! That’s okay. Your first kiss is what you make it, you know? It doesn’t have to be anything special if you don’t want it to be,” he says sagely, a determined set to his mouth. “It’s your first kiss with the right person that matters most!”

Kazuya laughs, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders as Eijun’s enthusiasm returns. “How optimistic,” he teases, falling back on their usual banter with ease, tickling Eijun in the side. “It almost sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself more than me.”

Eijun’s face burns red, a flush spreading all the way to the tips of his ears, Adam’s apple bobbing, and - oh. 

“Oh my God,” Kazuya mutters, brows jumping. “You’ve kissed someone?”

This is news to Kazuya - surprising news, too, because Eijun is awful at keeping anything to himself. He’s usually tugging at Kazuya’s sleeve as soon as anything happens to him, blabbering into Kazuya’s ear, spilling all his secrets.

Eijun had his first kiss.

And he didn’t tell Kazuya.

Eijun sputters, a blush creeping down his neck, and Kazuya feels something hot and uncomfortable twist inside him. “It wasn’t anything special!” Eijun insists, glancing away, fingers flexing in a fist. “It was - it happened last summer.”

“Last summer?” Kazuya echoes, lips turning downward. That was a whole year ago. “What?”

Eijun chews his lip, inhaling sharply. “It was with Raichi’s friend,” he admits quietly, looking up at Kazuya shyly. “The one who races sometimes?”

Kazuya’s brows furrow, frowning. Raichi’s friend - “Sanada?” he asks incredulously. He thinks of Sanada’s dark hair and crooked smile, thinks of the way he sometimes hovers while Eijun bends over the hood of a car to fiddle with the motor. “What - why?”

Eijun fidgets, shifting awkwardly. “Why does it matter,” he mumbles. “It was last summer.” At Kazuya’s confused glare, he adds, “He’s cute, okay! It was just a couple pecks.”

Sanada. Sanada Shunpei, the Mayor’s son, the starting pitcher at Yakushi high on the other side of town. As far as Kazuya knows, Sanada isn’t going off to college this year. He’s going to be around and Kazuya isn’t. “Maybe I need to be the one telling you not to get a new best friend,” he mutters, frowning.

Eijun snorts as if Kazuya has said something completely outrageous. “It was one time and, like, two kisses,” he defends. 

“You said he’s cute,” Kazuya continues in a mumble. He tries to recall any other instance in their shared childhood where Eijun has mentioned someone else being attractive and comes up empty. “What the hell. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Eijun doesn’t respond for a moment, eyes dropping to his lap as he fiddles with a stray thread on his pants. “Because I don’t - I don’t like Sanada,” he says, looking back up at Kazuya shyly, lashes casting shadows over his cheeks. “I mean, I maybe had a tiny crush on him at one point,” he admits sheepishly. “But I don’t - I wanted - “ He pauses, exhaling noisily. “I wanted my first kiss to be with… someone else.”

Eijun’s blush deepens as he carefully peeks up at Kazuya, eyes following the line of Kazuya’s nose down to his mouth. “Oh,” Kazuya says, tongue heavy in his jaw, stomach flipping. “What - Who?”

Eijun’s teeth dig into the plush of his lip and Kazuya immediately fixates on the action. Eijun reaches out and fiddles with the cuff of Kazuya’s shirt, fingers brushing along the sensitive skin of his tricep as he shifts slightly, swaying closer, eyes darting between Kazuya’s own. “Who do you think?” he asks softly, glancing away for a brief moment. “Why do you think I’m going to miss you so much, Miyuki Kazuya?”

Oh. 

Kazuya’s tongue swipes over his own teeth nervously as Eijun’s confession sinks in. “Oh, well,” he finds himself saying, heart hammering in his throat. “That’s good. I’m the better driver anyway.”

Eijun stares for a long, lingering moment, and then snorts out a loud laugh, close enough for Kazuya to feel it against his collar. “You have the worst personality,” Eijun murmurs, but it’s fond, low and soft, a tone Kazuya hasn’t quite heard before. “You are the better driver, though.”

Kazuya grins, self-satisfied even though he feels as if his heart might leap right out of his ribcage. “Thanks,” he says, voice shaking around the word. He works his jaw, looking at Eijun from the corner of his eye carefully. “I… wanted my first kiss to be with someone else, too.”

He hopes Eijun will pick up on what he’s trying to say.

Eijun’s eyes widen, lips parting around a quiet sound, something surprised and hopeful. His gaze hovers over Kazuya’s chin, head tipping closer, crowding into Kazuya’s space. “Yeah?” he asks softly, a pretty blush settling over his cheeks.

“Yeah,” Kazuya affirms, shivering when Eijun’s breath brushes over his skin. The air around them sparks with something warm, something electric, heavy, tense with anticipation. It’s all Kazuya can do to try to focus on breathing.

Eijun’s hand slides up over Kazuya’s shoulder, toying with the collar of his shirt. “Maybe we should… fix that,” he suggests coyly, brushing his fingers over Kazuya’s knuckles, poking at the spaces between them. “I think that would be pretty easy.”

Kazuya’s heart races as Eijun’s fingers interlace with his own. 

His eyes drop to Eijun’s mouth.

Kazuya isn’t entirely sure he remembers how to speak. 

He has thought about this more times than he would like to admit. Has played hundreds of scenes like this one through in his head. Has thought about what that loud mouth might feel like, how it might move, yield, overwhelm. Hungry and eager, shy and soft. Kazuya has imagined it all. 

And yet, it’s terrifying. 

Over ten years of friendship lies behind them. 

Once they cross this line, there’s no going back.

No going back. 

Kazuua takes a steadying inhale, summoning the last of his courage. 

“I think so, too,” Kazuya finally says. “I’d like that.”

Eijun smiles sweetly, lids lowering as his gaze falls to Kazuya’s chin. “Okay,” he says, swaying forward as if magnetized, palm clammy over Kazuya’s own. “Me too.”

Kazuya licks his lips, heart fluttering when Eijun’s part, brows twitching as he tracks the motion. “Okay,” Kazuya returns, the space between them dwindling. “Are you sure?” he asks one final time, tilting his head to knock his nose against Eijun’s, hovering, waiting. 

“Yeah,” Eijun confirms, lashes fluttering, tipping forward. “Kiss me, Miyuki Kazuya.”

Kazuya fingers flex in Eijun’s. “Why don’t you kiss me?” he teases, because he can’t help himself, because he’s nervous, because this is everything he’s always wanted laid out on a silver platter, and he’s absolutely terrified of doing it wrong. 

Eijun groans in frustration, nose brushing Kazuya’s cheek. “Miyuki Kazuya,” he says his name again, this time in complaint, making Kazuya’s mouth curve into a smile. The familiar intonation drains some of the tension from Kazuya’s shoulders.

“Okay, okay,” he acquiesces, laughing softly, leaning in, and then he’s finally brushing his mouth to Eijun’s.

It’s light and tentative, nothing more than an awkward press of skin to skin. It lasts for only a moment before he’s pulling back a hair, eyes searching Eijun’s expression. Eijun makes a small, warm noise against Kazuya’s lips before he tips his head, lashes fluttering as he leans back in to kiss Kazuya again. 

Kazuya pushes back into the kiss even though he has no clue what he’s doing, earning himself a sound of approval from Eijun. Their lips roll together, meeting over and over again, and Kazuya relishes the way Eijun pulls his hand from Kazuya’s grasp and rests it on his thigh, leaning further into Kazuya’s space.

It’s nice. Intimate. New. Special.

Kazuya likes it.

He likes it a lot. 

Eijun presses closer until his palm slides over Kazuya’s thigh and he loses balance, mouth slipping away from Kazuya’s as he tries to steady himself. He takes a deep breath as he settles his gaze back on Kazuya, cheeks flushed. “Okay?” he asks, staring at Kazuya’s mouth. 

Kazuya licks his lips, stomach flipping with Eijun’s lashes flutter, eyes tracking the movement. “Yeah,” Kazuya answers. “Want to do it again?”

Eijun immediately moves back in, nodding, reaching up to grab at Kazuya’s bicep, tugging him closer. “Yes.” 

Kazuya bites his lip to keep himself from smiling at Eijun’s enthusiasm. It’s one of Kazuya’s favorite things about him - his eager, charged personality. He’s a coiled wire, a revved engine, ready to bust past the starting line as soon as he’s given the green light.

Kazuya lets Eijun reel him back in. Their mouths brush again, gentle and ginger and sweet. He reaches out, palm curiously flitting up over Eijun’s jaw, cupping his cheek. Eijun nudges further into Kazuya’s hand, making a quiet noise when Kazuya’s fingers curl around his ear, tilting his head so that their lips slip together more easily. 

God, Kazuya thinks he could do this forever. 

Their kisses become faster, less rigid as they both begin to relax. Eijun parts his lips after a few moments, tongue peeking out between them, and Kazuya’s heart leaps into his throat. He follows Eijun’s lead, meeting Eijun halfway until their tongues brush, and - 

It feels weird. Kazuya pulls away, lashes fluttering open, eyes roaming over Eijun as he slowly reorients himself. Eijun’s mouth is pink and spit-slick. Supple and pillowy. His skin is ruddy and his eyes are dark, like caramelized honey.

He looks amazing.

It stirs something in Kazuya’s gut, something hot and sticky, electric and all-consuming. 

“You look good like this,” Kazuya blurts, heart pounding. 

Eijun breathes heavily, chin tipping as he leans back in close. “You do, too,” he murmurs quietly. “Do you want to stop?”

Kazuya nudges Eijun’s nose with his own. “No,” he rasps, meeting Eijun halfway. 

This kiss is messier than the others, open-mouthed, sloppy in their inexperience, tongues brushing for the second time. It’s still weird, slippery and warm, but it’s good because it’s Eijun. Spit slicks over Kazuya’s lips, and he feels as if that should be gross, but it’s actually kind of - he actually kind of likes it, feels like he wants more, feels as if his brain is beginning to shut down, focusing only on the sensations surrounding him. 

Eijun moans lowly when the tip of Kazuya’s tongue brushes the roof of his mouth, and the sound makes Kazuya whimper in return. He likes that. Likes Eijun’s noises. Likes the way Eijun’s movements become sloppier as the kisses continue.

It’s overwhelming. 

Kazuya pulls back for a moment, trying to find his bearings. But he can’t stop the way his gaze 

immediately fixates on Eijun’s mouth. He reaches up and swipes his thumb over Eijun’s lip unthinkingly, watching as the flesh yields beneath his touch as he drags his finger down over Eijun’s chin. It’s alluring, and before Kazuya can stop himself, before Eijun can respond, he’s leaning back in.

Eijun hums and slides his hands over Kazuya’s neck, fingers splaying wide at the back of his scalp, toying with the soft hair there. Kazuya likes that, likes the feeling of Eijun’s palms on his skin, teasing the ends of his hair like a promise of something more. 

More. 

Kazuya wouldn’t mind that. 

He wouldn’t mind kissing over Eijun’s jaw and finding out what kinds of noises he might make if Kazuya swipes his tongue down the tendon of his neck. He wouldn’t mind having Eijun closer, close enough for his hands to wrap around his waist, to feel the way his muscles move as they kiss. He wouldn’t mind luring Eijun into his lap as they kiss, chest pressed to chest, thighs bracketing Kazuya’s sides, hips tilting - 

Kazuya pulls back, panting. He’s hot, restless, sparks skipping over his skin, the images in his head making his skin tingle. 

They should probably stop. 

Kazuya doesn’t want to, but he knows they should, or else maybe he won’t be able to. Maybe he’ll stay here forever, kissing his best friend on the floor of his dad’s garage with tools and engine parts scattered around them. 

He glances at the clock on the wall. “We should probably head home soon,” he says, voice raspy. “Your mom will have your head if you’re late for dinner.”

Eijun looks as if he wants to protest, but when he glances at the time, he frowns. “She’ll have your head, too,” he mumbles, reluctantly sitting back. “You should stay for dinner. She’d like that.”

Kazuya bites his lip as he picks up the stray tools littered around them, tucking them back into Eijun’s toolkit, fumbling with a screwdriver because he doesn’t want to look away from Eijun’s blown pupils and shiny lips. “She’d like that?” he echoes, fingering the plastic handle. “Or you would?”

Eijun reaches up to fidget with his lip, fingers plucking at the supple skin distractingly. “Both,” he responds quietly, a little shy, a little flirtatious. “You could… stay after for a bit, too. If you wanted.”

Kazuya’s skin burns as he drops the tool into Eijun’s bag. “I could… be convinced,” he responds playfully, heart skipping at the implications of their conversation. “I should swing by the house and check on Dad first, though.”

Eijun nods, handing Kazuya the torque wrench that Kazuya accidentally gave him at the beginning of the evening.

He looks down at the wrench, turning it over in his hand, and smiles.

---

Kazuya is restless. 

The train lurches as it begins to slow. Kazuya sways as he stands, grabbing hold of the rail to steady himself. He tries not to bump into the other passengers as he makes his way towards the doors, watching through the window as the trees begin to thin, greenery giving way to the rise of the train station.

Kazuya’s stomach flips as he starts scanning the lines of people waiting on the platform. Everything looks exactly the same as it always has.

There are the same brick columns lining the walkways and the same old posters that have been hanging on the boards since Kazuya left for his first year of college. There’s Tsubaka-san, who has been working the ticket booth since Kazuya was sixteen. The same crawling vines that have been crawling up the wall next to the men’s bathroom on the way to the parking lot. 

The same yellow, 1970 Ford Bronco parked in the spot beneath the big Oak tree at the corner of the lot. 

There he is, Kazuya thinks.

He shifts on his feet as the train comes to a stop, pulse hammering at the base of his throat. He makes his way off the train and scans the crowd for the familiar head of dark hair that owns the Bronco. Surely, Eijun isn’t just waiting in the car. That would be ridiculous. Especially given how excited he’s been to see Kazuya again, how eager he’s been for Kazuya to be back in their hometown for the summer, how - 

“Boo!”

“Oh - shit - “ Kazuya startles when someone jabs him in the ribs from behind, nearly dropping his backpack as he spins around, heart racing as he takes in the bright eyes and wide smile standing behind him.

“Miyuki Kazuya!” Eijun exclaims, leaning too far into Kazuya’s space, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet. He’s wearing a red shirt that’s suspiciously too big on his frame, collar sliding over his shoulders, revealing the curve of his clavicle. “Finally. I was beginning to think maybe you missed your train! I was going to give it ten more minutes before I started calling.”

Kazuya smirks and reaches out to tug at the sleeve of Eijun’s shirt. “Impatient,” he teases, raising a brow. “Is this my shirt?”

Eijun’s cheeks darken as he glances away, chewing at the inside of his cheek. “Maybe,” he mumbles, fidgeting with the hem, well-kept nails scratching along the seam. “I missed you.”

Kazuya’s heart flutters in his chest, affection warming the back of his neck. Kazuya understands that sentiment. It’s been three whole months since Kazuya was able to visit during spring break. Three whole months since they’ve been able to see each other without the pixelated distortion of a computer screen. 

“Sap,” Kazuya murmurs, the hidden I missed you, too, hanging between them. “C’mon, let’s go home.”

Eijun’s eyes light up at Kazuya’s words, cheeks darkening at the word home, at the implication that even though Kazuya has gone off to learn how to properly run a business so he can take over his dad’s shop one day, so he can open new branches and hire more people, his home is still here, in this place, with Eijun. 

“Here,” Eijun says as they approach his yellow Bronco, tossing Kazuya the keys. Kazuya catches them with ease, raising a brow. “I know you want to drive.”

Kazuya grins as he rounds the corner of the car to toss his bag in the back before opening the driver side door. “You just want to see me drive,” he says flirtatiously, shooting a mischievous look over his shoulder. He turns when he catches Eijun hovering, swallowing thickly when Eijun’s eyes drop down to his mouth. 

Three months. 

Eijun rocks onto the balls of his feet, tucking his arms behind his back. “I missed you,” he repeats his earlier sentiment, kicking at Kazuya’s shoe. 

Kazuya’s heart flutters in his chest in response to Eijun’s sweet expression. His eyes roam over Eijun’s features, darting between his eyes and then down the line of his nose, catching on the place where his teeth dig into his lip. “I missed you, too,” he admits honestly, fidgeting with the edge of the doorframe.

Eijun steps closer, tilting his chin up, reaching out to tease a finger through one of Kazuya’s belt loops. “Mom wants you to come over for dinner tonight,” he responds, swaying into Kazuya space. “She said, and I quote, ‘Tell Kazuya that if he doesn’t come over for dinner, he’s grounded’.”

Kazuya barks out a laugh, fidgeting with the collar of Eijun’s shirt. “She says that every time I’m back in town. I’m starting to think she’s more excited to see me when I come home than she is to see you.”

Eijun scowls and pinches Kazuya in the side. “Don’t remind me,” he bemoans, tongue swiping over his lip distractingly. “I think she’s got a crush on you.”

Kazuya hums, sliding his palm up over Eijun’s shoulder, toying with the hair curling behind his ear. “Is that so?” he drawls, giving Eijun a boyish grin. “Must run in the family, huh?”

Eijun blushes in response to Kazuya’s blatant flirtation. “I guess so,” he responds coyly, leaning in to drop his forehead to Kazuya’s shoulder, pulling Kazuya into a hug with his arms around his waist. “Though I don’t know why,” he mutters. “Because you’ve got the worst personality.”

Kazuya chuckles at Eijun’s familiar insult, flicking him in the ear playfully. Eijun winces, sputtering in protest. “You’re just jealous because you still haven’t managed to steal my title,” Kazuya taunts, but he cards his fingers through Eijun’s hair gently, skin warming beneath Eijun’s affection, knocking his temple against the side of Eijun’s head. “Are you looking forward to another summer of coming in second place?”

Eijun huffs against Kazuya’s shoulder, lifting his head to give him a challenging glare. “Oh, you just wait until tonight, Miyuki Kazuya,” he says, like a promise. “I’m taking you down this summer.”

Kazuya grins.

Eijun has been saying that every summer since they started racing.

Kazuya still remembers the day Eijun got his racing car. A yellow Dodge Charger Hellcat with black rims and a black hood, low to the ground and fast. He saved up for two summers, putting away every dollar he made working as a mechanic at Toku’s Auto until he could buy it. As soon as Eijun got the keys, he shot Kazuya a sharp grin, spinning the keychain on a finger, and said, “Watch out, Miyuki Kazuya. I’m going to leave you in the dust one day.”

It was a promise, and Kazuya knows that Eijun still intends to keep it. 

Kazuya clears his throat, waggling his brows. “Tonight, huh?” Kazuya asks, voice lower than intended, flirtatious and suggestive. “What exactly do you plan on doing to me tonight, Eijun?”

He knows Eijun is referencing opening night down at the racetrack, but Kazuya just can’t help himself. 

Eijun blushes, jabbing Kazuya in the ribs. Kazuya laughs, squirming away from the assault. “Oh, you - “ Eijun grumbles, puffing out his cheeks cutely. “Will you be quiet and just kiss me already,” he mumbles, ears burning. “Or are you going to make me wait all day?”

Kazuya quirks a brow, smiling, eyeing Eijun’s mouth. “I was thinking about making you wait all day,” he taunts, finger tracing the shell of Eijun’s ear. “I kind of like it when you get frustrated.”

Eijun tries to glare, but his lashes flutter at Kazuya’s touch. “Jerk,” he mumbles, tipping his chin up. “C’mon.”

Kazuya hums and gives in to what they both want, finally leaning down to close the space between them. “Okay, okay,” he acquiesces. “So needy.”

He catches Eijun’s mouth beneath his own before he can squawk in response, sighing against Eijun’s cheek as their lips press together. 

Eijun lets out a soft, satisfied sound into the kiss, fingers curling into Kazuya’s sides. Kazuya drops his hands to wrap around Eijun’s waist, pulling him closer as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss with ease, nipping at Eijun’s lip teasingly just because he knows it gets him riled up. 

Eijun whimpers, gasping quietly, pulling back only to tilt his head further, nose nudging Kazuya’s jaw. “I really missed you,” Eijun breathes out, pushing Kazuya back against the edge of the seat. “I love kissing you.”

Kazuya groans, hands sliding over Eijun’s back, thighs parting to make more room for him. His fingers twist in the material of Eijun’s shirt when Eijun slots their mouths back together, licking at the seam of his lips, slicking his tongue against the insides of Kazuya’s cheeks. His palms slide up to cup at Kazuya’s jaw, a little demanding, possessive, needy, like a starving man, hungry and eager to devour. 

God, Kazuya has been thinking about this for months. 

Kazuya sometimes wishes they’d done things a little differently, that they hadn’t gotten together right before he left for college. Wishes that they didn’t only get to see each other for a few weeks between semesters, that they had the time to really explore each other like Kazuya knows they both want, if the saved messages lingering on Kazuya’s phone are anything to go by. 

I can’t wait to kiss you again, Miyuki Kazuya, Eijun had texted him a month ago, so early in the morning that Kazuya had almost scolded him for being awake. I can’t wait to touch you.

That had kept Kazuya awake, had made him squint at his phone in the darkness, tapping at the screen. Touch me? he had responded, focusing intently on the screen. Where?

Everywhere, Eijun sent back immediately.

Kazuya had groaned, fingers twitching against his phone case. Kazuya had been thinking about that too. Touching Eijun. Exploring his skin. Tracing his tongue over the lines of his muscles. 

Kazuya has been just as eager to see Eijun again as Eijun has been to see him. 

“I’m glad to be home,” Kazuya says, tipping his head back as his fingers dip beneath Eijun’s shirt, nails teasing at the dimples of his back. 

Eijun makes a pleased sound, skimming his mouth over Kazuya’s jaw, following the curve of his cheek, nuzzling into the faint stubble littering his skin. “You need to shave,” he murmurs, sliding his arms up to lock his elbows over Kazuya’s shoulders. “You’re prickly.”

Kazuya snorts and lets his arms wrap around Eijun’s waist, holding him close. “You don’t like it?” he teases, brushing his cheek over Eijun’s, laughing when he sputters at the scratchy feeling. 

Eijun hums, carding his fingers through Kazuya’s hair gently, eyeing the fuzz on Kazuya’s skin. “I don’t not like it,” he says, bringing one hand around to thumb at his jaw. “It could be nice during - you know, um. If - “ he pauses, stumbling over his words. “Actually, never mind.”

Oh. 

Kazuya’s neck burns, mind immediately filling in the gaps of Eijun’s stilted statement, conjuring up images of where his stubble might feel nice - over Eijun’s abdomen, his lower belly, the delicate skin of his inner thighs. 

God, he hasn’t even been home for ten minutes and he’s already yearning. 

Kazuya raises his brows, palms splaying wide over Eijun’s back. “Could be nice during what, Eijun?” he drawls, pushing down the nerves that settle at the back of his throat even as his stomach flips. “Sounds like someone is thinking something dirty.”

Eijun puffs out his cheeks and tugs at Kazuya’s hair in retaliation. Kazuya lets out a warm sound that fizzles on his tongue because Eijun starts to reluctantly pull away, fingers slipping from Kazuya’s hair, glancing down the curve of his neck. Kazuya knows they need to get home, but he absolutely does not want to let Eijun go. 

“Oh, shut up and drive,” Eijun mumbles, the tips of his ears glowing red. “But if you crash my car, I get your Mustang.

At this, Kazuya snorts, affection blossoming through his ribcage at the mention of his old hand-me-down 1967 Mustang, all black, sleek and shiny, in just as good of condition now as it was when his dad gave him the keys when he turned sixteen. It’s just as fun to drive as his racing car - maybe even more so, because every time he brings it around, Eijun can’t keep his eyes off it, lashes fluttering when Kazuya revs the engine as if it’s the nicest sound he’s ever heard.

Kazuya lets his hands fall from Eijun’s waist, trying to fight the stone of disappointment that settles deep in his gut at the loss. “You’re always looking for an excuse to steal my Mustang, aren’t you?” he drawls, climbing into the front seat as Eijun goes around the back to hop into the other side. “I’m starting to think you only keep me around for my car.”

Eijun bites his lip as he settles into his seat, leaning over the middle console, swaying into Kazuya’s space flirtatiously. “Well, I didn’t want to tell you…”

Kazuya rolls his eyes with a laugh, eyes dropping back down to Eijun’s mouth. “You brat,” he murmurs, eyes hooding. He already wants to kiss Eijun again. He’s like some kind of addiction. “I should make you walk.” 

Eijun giggles, reaching over to twist his fingers in Kazuya’s collar. He eyes Kazuya’s chin, tugging him closer. “That would be rude.”

Kazuya smirks, chuckling warmly. “You’re the one always saying I have a rotten personality,” he teases.

“It’s true,” Eijun says jovially, tilting his head. “But I’ll forgive you if you kiss me again.”

Kazuya huffs out a laugh, adoration coursing through him. “Bossy,” he mumbles, but he’s too weak to deny Eijun’s request, even though he knows they should stop, knows they should head home. 

He drops his mouth to Eijun’s, catching him in a slow kiss, soft and warm, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. He sucks at the delicate flesh and Eijun moans quietly, shooting sparks within the cab, pulling a low sound from Kazuya’s throat. 

Kazuya loves Eijun’s noises. They light flames over Kazuya’s skin, make his toes curl, make him want to know what kinds of sounds Eijun would make if Kazuya kissed him elsewhere. 

Eijun twists to push himself so his torso is leaning completely over the middle console, tongue sliding into Kazuya’s mouth. Kazuya groans hotly, a hand coming up to brush the side of Eijun’s neck, fingers flirting with his hair. Eijun’s palm slips down Kazuya’s torso, skimming over his lower belly, resting at the place where hip meets thigh, and Kazuya burns. 

He feels as if he’s going to combust, right here in seat of Eijun’s Bronco, in the train station parking lot with the cicadas buzzing in his ears, not even fifteen minutes after arriving home for the summer.

 “Eijun,” Kazuya pants out when he pulls away, pressing his forehead to Eijun’s as he tries to catch his breath. “Jesus Christ.”

Eijun whines at the loss of Kazuya’s mouth, eyes slowly blinking back open, cheeks ruddy and lips swollen. “I’m so glad you’re home,” he says quietly, fingers flexing over Kazuya’s thigh. “You have no idea.”

Kazuya smiles fondly, heart aching. He’s been pining for this day, for this boy, for this time. College has been fine, fun, good, but he’s missed Eijun’s noise, his rambunctious laughter and sunny smiles. 

Kazuya has missed his best friend.  

He takes a steadying inhale, trying to calm the burn of longing settling into his belly. He brushes his fingers through Eijun’s bangs and kisses his forehead gently, emotion sitting heavy in his chest. 

“It’s good to be back.” 

---

Kazuya inhales deeply, the smell of burnt rubber and gasoline permeating his senses, mingling with the faint scent of a charcoal grill on the other side of the track. 

An engine revs a few trailers down, spitting smoke out of the exhaust. It’s warm and humid even though the sun has already gone down, cicadas buzzing faintly beneath the rambunctious energy that always fills the drag strip.

Kazuya has missed this.

His fingers itch for his driving gloves and a steering wheel. 

He can’t wait to get back on the track tonight.

He wipes his hands on his pants as he takes one last glance under the hood. Once he’s sure all the nuts and bolts are in place as they should be, he releases the hood, letting it slam shut with a satisfying thud.

“Miyuki Kazuya!”

Kazuya grins at the familiar sound of his name coming from behind him. He raises a brow as he turns, heart thudding loudly in his ears as he catches sight of Eijun’s familiar gate heading across the lot towards him.

“Did you come to wish me good luck?” Kazuya leers, leaning his hip against the hood of his car. “What a sweet boyfriend.”

Eijun gives Kazuya a haughty smile, challenging and hot, the one he always gives Kazuya before a race, the one that keeps Kazuya up at night even when he’s miles and hours away. “No, I came to tell you that I hope you’re ready to lose,” he taunts, biting his lip coyly as he steps into Kazuya’s space. 

Kazuya sweeps his gaze over him, taking in his black and yellow sneakers - his favorite driving shoes. Eijun swears they’re his lucky charm, even though he’s never managed to beat Kazuya while wearing them. He’s clad in a simple pair of joggers, dark, cinched over his hips, and - 

Kazuya’s gaze comes to a halt when he’s met with the sight of exposed, tanned skin. 

Eijun’s wearing a crop top.

It’s bright yellow, loose, sliding over his shoulders attractively. There’s a hood at the nape of his neck, sleeves collecting at his wrists, the hem coming to rest just above his belly button.

Kazuya swallows thickly, trying not to get distracted by the expanse of soft skin on display.

“You match your car,” Kazuya says as he reaches out to tug at the hem of Eijun’s shirt when he steps into Kazuya’s space. He eyes the lean lines of his abdomen, fingers grazing over his ribcage as he toys with the material. “Is matching supposed to bring you luck?”

Eijun bites his lip and leans in close, looking up at Kazuya from beneath the hood of his lashes. He squirms when Kazuya’s knuckles tickle his skin, a rosy tint dappling over his cheeks. “Maybe,” he responds, giving Kazuya a mischievous smile. “I sure seem to be getting lucky right now, don’t I?”

Kazuya barks out a laugh and drops his hand to Eijun’s waist beneath his crop top, palm splaying wide over warm flesh. “You cheeky little shit,” he mumbles, digging his fingers into Eijun’s ribs.

Eijun giggles and jolts away from the jab, swaying further into Kazuya’s space. He toys with the material of Kazuya’s shirt, sliding his hands up over his waist, over the dip of his sternum. “You know what might really bring me good luck?” he asks, tracing his index finger over Kazuya’s collarbone. 

Kazuya raises a brow, tilting his head subtly, pressing into Eijun’s touch. “What’s that?”

Eijun bites his lip over a smile. “A kiss.”

Kazuya slides his hand to the small of Eijun’s back, licking his lips subconsciously. “Is that so?” he teases, waggling his brows. “Guess you should find someone who’d be willing to give that to you.”

Eijun huffs and rolls his eyes. “You’re always so withholding,” he mumbles, slipping his arms up to wrap around Kazuya’s neck, pressing his chest to Kazuya’s. “Please?”

Kazuya groans, completely distracted by the warm press of Eijun’s body. He knows he should be getting ready for the race - they both should - but he’s entirely too content to stay right here. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” he murmurs, eyeing Eijun’s mouth. “I guess I can give you what you want.”

He leans down to press his mouth to Eijun’s, tilting his head, catching him in a slow kiss. Eijun sighs against his lips, brushing his fingers through Kazuya’s hair, melting against him. Kazuya runs a palm up the line of Eijun’s spine, dipping beneath the back of his crop top, skipping over his vertebrae.

Kazuya groans as Eijun arches into the touch and slides closer, as he presses Kazuya back against the side of his car, deepening the kiss. Kazuya gets caught in the way Eijun’s tongue grazes over his own, along the insides of his cheeks, the plush of his bottom lip, nails digging into Eijun’s shoulder blade. 

Everything is hot, distracting, overwhelming, sparks popping between them, electricity humming beneath Kazuya’s skin. He’s moments away from palming at Eijun’s hips, from turning them around so he can crowd Eijun up against the car instead, but the sound of the intercom crackling overhead stops him.

Fifteen minutes to line up.

Eijun makes a protesting noise as he pulls away, pouting at the interruption. “Guess it’s time,” he says, voice low, tantalizing, addicting. His lips are shiny and red, cheeks dotted with a blush, and Kazuya wants nothing more than to lean down and kiss him again. 

Kazuya is torn between wanting to get his hands on a wheel and wanting to keep his hands on Eijun.

“Yeah,” Kazuya agrees, clearing his throat as he straightens, letting his touch fall from Eijun’s waist. “I guess it is.”

Eijun’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, catching Kazuya’s hands in his own, interlacing their fingers. He pulls him back in for only a moment, sliding his mouth back over Kazuya’s, quick and messy, stealing Kazuya’s breath away before Eijun lets him go for real. “Good luck, Miyuki Kazuya,” he says, laughing at Kazuya’s surprised expression. “See you at the finish line.”

Kazuya can do nothing more than try to reorient himself as he watches Eijun head back over to his own trailer to put his suit on, lips tingling and pulse racing like a car on the track. 

Kazuya runs his fingers through his hair, reeling from the whiplash of longing and adoration that settles in his chest. “Yeah,” he says, long after Eijun is out of earshot. “See you at the finish line.”

---

Kazuya wins their first race of the season.

But it’s a close match.

Eijun is only two seconds behind Kazuya crossing the finish line -

And he’s excited about it.

He spends the entire night gloating as if he had actually won the race, grinning over at Kazuya at every opportunity, holding up his peace fingers, saying, “Two seconds!”

Eijun’s still riding the high by the time they’re alone again, parked outside the empty auto shop, Eijun’s yellow Hellcat next to Kazuya’s purple Skyline. “I told you I’m taking you down this summer,” Eijun sing-songs, bumping his hip into Kazuya’s as he organizes his racing gear in his passenger seat. “Those two seconds will be easy to shave off.”

Kazuya rolls his eyes good-naturedly, leaning against the side of his car, eyeing the way Eijun’s crop top rises further up his back as he bends over to set his helmet on the floorboard. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” Kazuya drawls, crossing his arms over his chest.

Eijun huffs and goes to straighten, knocking his head on the roof of his car in his haste. Kazuya snorts out an endeared laugh as Eijun turns to face him, rubbing at his head as he closes his car door. 

“Last summer, I cut a whole thirty seconds from my record,” Eijun reminds Kazuya, stepping over towards Kazuya. “Two seconds will be nothing.”

Kazuya shrugs nonchalantly, but he knows Eijun’s right. His competitive spirit rises within him, swelling deep in his ribcage. He should probably try to install some new mods on his own car to improve his speed just a bit, too. 

“Someone sounds sure of themselves,” Kazuya teases, hands automatically dropping to toy with the edge of Eijun’s shirt when he moves in close enough. “And proud.”

Eijun bites his lip, slipping his palms up Kazuya’s chest. “I am proud,” he admits easily, playing with Kazuya’s sweaty hair that curls behind his ears. “Are you?” he asks shyly, finger tracing the shell of Kazuya’s ear. “Are you proud of me?”

Kazuya’s eyes roam over Eijun’s face, taking in the way the street light filters over his expression, too dim to illuminate his freckles but bright enough to cast alluring shadows over his features. 

He’s gorgeous right now, cheeks pink and eyes alight with passion, with expectation, with hope. 

Kazuya knows why Eijun has been going on about his racing time tonight - 

Eijun is looking for Kazuya’s approval. 

It’s silly, Kazuya thinks, because Eijun has always had it. Kazuya likes to win, wants to win, but he’d be just as pleased if Eijun were to take home the trophy instead. 

Kazuya twines his arms around Eijun’s waist. “I am proud,” he says earnestly, hands pressing into the smell of Eijun’s back, urging him closer. “You did great tonight.”

Eijun’s throat works, lids hooding over his eyes. “Yeah?” he pushes, dragging his nails down the length of Kazuya’s neck. “Good enough for a reward?” he asks, eyes dropping to Kazuya’s mouth. 

Kazuya hums, playing coy even though he knows exactly what Eijun wants. “A reward?” he echoes. “Like what, exactly?”

Eijun presses closer, cupping Kazuya’s jaw, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth. “Like this,” he murmurs, tracing the pad of his finger along the curve of Kazuya’s mouth. 

Kazuya resists the urge to shiver, opening his mouth to gently catch Eijun’s thumb between his teeth. He kisses the tip of his finger, tongue sweeping over his fingerprint. “That?” Kazuya retorts cheekily. 

Eijun’s cheeks darken as he fixates on the sight of Kazuya’s mouth toying with his hand, inhaling shakily. Kazuya files that away for future reference. “Maybe,” Eijun responds, tone low, tipping forward as if magnetized, thumb sweeping over Kazuya’s cheek. “Or… maybe something else.”

Kazuya’s tongue darts over his lips as he tilts his head, letting his nose brush Eijun’s. “I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about,” he lies, smirking. “Why don’t you give me a hint?”

Eijun offers him a playful smile. “Okay,” he murmurs, closing the distance between them to brush his mouth to Kazuya’s. It’s light and sweet, chaste, teasing. It lasts for only a moment before Eijun pulls away, leaving Kazuya yearning. “Was that enough of a hint?” Eijun responds. 

Ah.

Eijun doesn’t just want to kiss tonight. 

He wants to be kissed. 

Kazuya’s pulse hammers in his ears as he slides a hand up to caress the line of Eijun’s jaw, tilting his chin up. “Yeah,” Kazuya says, leaning down. “I think I got it.”

He tips down and slots his mouth to Eijun’s easily, turning his head so he can catch Eijun’s lip between his own, rolling their mouths together sensually. Eijun whimpers softly, sighing forward, tangling his fingers into Kazuya’s hair.

Kazuya groans lowly, sparks immediately jumping over his skin. 

If Eijun wants a reward, Kazuya is more than happy to give one to him. 

Kazuya deepens the kiss, but he keeps it slow, languid, burning. He slides his hands down over Eijun’s waist, skimming beneath the cut of his crop top, teasing at the warm skim hiding underneath. Eijun shudders against him, brushing his tongue against Kazuya’s hotly, arching into Kazuya’s touch. 

Kazuya likes when Eijun gets like this - eager and wanting, unabashed in his desires, asking for what he wants and then taking it when it’s offered.

He sucks Eijun’s lower lip in between his teeth, nibbling at it gently. Eijun moans warmly, shifting until he’s nearly straddling Kazuya’s thigh, hips tilting towards Kazuya’s. Kazuya pulls away with a tinny sound when he feels Eijun rock against him gently, panting into the space between them. “Was that a good enough reward?” Kazuya asks, palms skimming over Eijun’s back. 

Eijun whines quietly, cupping at the back of Kazuya’s neck to pull him back down, arching against him. “Mmm, maybe,” he murmurs, hovering over Kazuya’s lips. “But I think I need a little more to really know.”

Kazuya laughs against Eijun’s cheek as he lets himself get dragged back in. “Greedy,” he accuses, dropping his mouth back to Eijun’s, dipping his tongue into Eijun’s mouth, teasing at his cheeks, feeling the cut of his canines. 

Eijun’s nails dig into his scalp as he presses further into Kazuya, tipping his head back when Kazuya skims his mouth over his cheek, down his jaw, along the tendon of his neck. “Only for you,” Eijun breathes out, words catching in his throat when Kazuya nips at his ear. 

Something electric and gently possessive curls deep in Kazuya’s chest, shooting sparks up his spine. He likes that, likes knowing that Eijun only has eyes for him, only gets like this for him.

Eijun only wants Kazuya.

Kazuya groans, pressing his thigh up between Eijun’s legs, subtly grinding against him, relishing in the feel of Eijun’s mouth smearing against his temple. “Good,” Kazuya praises, dropping kisses back up to Eijun’s cheek. “I like it that way.”

Eijun moans, a little too loud, hips jumping, tugging at Kazuya’s hair. “Me too,” Eijun agrees, panting, the tell-tale press of his erection brushing Kazuya’s hip. The space between them smolders, smoking with desire, and Kazuya doesn’t want to stop.

He takes a deep inhale, letting his fingers dip down over Eijun’s abdomen. Eijun lets out warm sound against Kazuya’s ear, thighs parting around Kazuya’s. Kazuya moans, arousal churning low in his belly in response to Eijun’s sweet noises. 

Kazuya really, really doesn’t want to stop.

His thumb traces the line of Eijun’s waistband curiously. Eijun drops his head to Kazuya’s neck, teeth nipping at delicate skin, hips tilting against Kazuya’s leg. “Kazuya,” Eijun whines, twisting Kazuya’s hair between his knuckles.

Kazuya’s lashes flutter, hand dipping further down, the back of his knuckles brushing over the tent at the front of Eijun’s pants. “Is this - can I - “

“Yes,” Eijun permits, eager and enthusiastic, mouthing at Kazuya’s ear. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Kazuya’s fingers flex in response to Eijun’s enthusiasm, nerves fluttering in his throat. “You sure?” he asks shakily.

“Yes,” Eijun repeats, like a mantra, like he’s forgotten how to say anything other than that word. “I want it.”

Kazuya shivers, sighing in response to Eijun’s admission. God, Eijun’s earnest desire is going to be the death of him one day. He pulls away slightly, giving himself just enough space to glance down between them so he can see what he’s doing. “So eager,” he taunts, even though his own heart races in his throat. 

“Shut up,” Eijun mumbles, wiggling his hips as Kazuya teases the hem of his pants, dipping a finger beneath the band, dragging it back and forth. “You started it,” he defends.

Kazuya can’t deny that. “And I intend to finish it.” He looks back up at Eijun, smiling coyly, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “You deserve a reward, remember?” he says cockily, much more confident than he actually feels. 

This is not something Kazuya has done before. It’s new. Daunting. Exciting. And no matter how many times Kazuya has thought about this, no matter how many times he’s touched himself - touched himself thinking about this, thinking about his hands on Eijun, Eijun’s hands on him - it doesn’t stop his nerves from sparking.

Kazuya is nervous.

But he wants.

Eijun whimpers in response to Kazuya’s tease, chasing his mouth. “Yes,” he approves, locking his elbows around Kazuya’s neck to keep him close. “Touch me.”

Kazuya bites his lip to keep himself from making an embarrassing noise in response to Eijun’s command. Eijun has never been patient, has always been a little bossy, demanding, greedy. It’s no different now, with Kazuya’s hand lingering only inches away from where Eijun wants it, teasing the sensitive skin of Eijun’s lower belly.

“Impatient,” Kazuya murmurs, but he drops his hand further, brushing the hem of Eijun’s boxers. “It’s the first time,” he drawls, slipping his fingers beneath the fabric, heart leaping into his throat when he brushes a coarse patch of hair. “Don’t you want to take it slow? Isn’t that romantic?”

Eijun groans, growls, really, hips bucking, fisting at Kazuya’s hair in retaliation. “Miyuki Kazuya,” he grumbles. “No. C’mon.”

Kazuya bite his tongue, simultaneously laughing at Eijun’s impatience and hissing at the pleasure-pain that sparks down his spine. “Okay, okay,” he gives in, catching Eijun in a kiss to placate him. “I’ve got you,” he says softly, brushing the heated flesh that’s been waiting for him. “See?”

He tentatively palms at Eijun’s erection, inhaling deeply when his fingers wrap around the velvety skin. Eijun lets out a quiet sound, something caught between a groan and a whine, hands curling at the sides of Kazuya’s neck. “Oh,” Eijun breathes out, shuddering. “Feels different than my hand usually does.”

Kazuya exhales shakily. He gets it - because this feels entirely different than touching his own cock. “I would hope so,” he manages to say, eyes roaming over Eijun’s expression. “Let me know if you want me to stop,” he requests, giving Eijun a curious, careful stroke from root to tip, feeling the way the skin moves beneath his hand, the way the precome slides over the edge of the head.

“I do not want you to stop,” Eijun says, bracing himself against Kazuya more fully, pressing him further against the side of the car. 

Kazuya chuckles softly, fond amusement and adoration swelling at the back of his throat, mingling with the arousal simmering beneath his skin. He feels overwhelmed by too many emotions, too many feelings, all good, all great, all at once. “Duly noted,” he croaks, twisting his hand gently, experimenting with his grip.

Eijun gasps, jerking into Kazuya’s touch, letting out a long, drawn out whine that sweeps fire through Kazuya’s veins. “Okay,” Eijun purrs, wobbling on his knees, slumping towards Kazuya. “This is much better than my own hand.”

Something smug and satisfied curls in Kazuya’s ribcage. He strokes Eijun slowly before pausing to explore the head of his erection, dragging the pad of his thumb through the precome beading at the tip. “Yeah?” he responds airily, rolling his thumb into the sensitive slit, fascinated by how slick it feels, how warm and hard it is, yet somehow soft and yielding.

Kazuya is completely enamored. 

He’s been thinking about what this might be like for so long. He wants to memorize every detail, wants to figure out what makes Eijun writhe, what makes him melt and gasp and tremble, nails digging into Kazuya’s skin, mouth falling open, hips bucking.

Kazuya continues rolling his finger over the crown of Eijun’s cock, slowly thumbing at the ridge, wet and slippery, relishing the way the flesh jumps beneath his touch when he adds a bit more pressure. 

Kazuya really likes how it feels.

He likes the way Eijun’s lashes flutter, eyes rolling shut. Likes the way his flush spreads down his neck, fingers digging into Kazuya’s shoulders. 

Eijun lets out a broken noise, hips rolling into Kazuya’s hand. “Stop teasing,” Eijun pleads wantonly, teeth digging into his bottom lip, brows scrunching together cutely. “Touch me properly.”

Kazuya groans at the demand. “I am,” he insists, but he adjusts, shifting so he can wrap his palm back around Eijun’s length fully, holding him as best he can with the angle of his wrist. He slowly pumps his hand, keeping the circle of his fingers loose and light. 

Eijun moans, back arching. “Yeah, like that,” he praises lowly, unthinkingly, pulling a shock of arousal through Kazuya’s veins. “Tighter,” he breathes out once Kazuya sets a steady rhythm, his nails scraping at Kazuya’s collar. “Faster.”

Kazuya chokes out a laugh, and if he weren’t so enraptured, he’d roll his eyes. “Bossy,” he mutters, but he does as told, adjusting his grip. “Better?”

“Oh,” Eijun shudders when Kazuya strokes him firmly, the sound of his palm slicking over Eijun’s cock echoing around them. “Yeah - that’s - yes.”

God.

Kazuya lets out a quiet noise, body rolling towards Eijun’s in response, desire sparking through his veins. He works Eijun carefully, watching the way his expression shifts when Kazuya changes his pace, when he thumbs at the head of his cock, dragging his fingertip over the slit, then slides his palm back down. Eijun gets lost in the sensations, hands sliding up to Kazuya’s nape, clinging to him for support.

“Kazuya,” Eijun whines, hips jumping, forehead bumping into Kazuya’s, lips smearing against Kazuya’s chin. His nails dig into Kazuya’s shoulders as he rolls his hips, sloppily dropping kisses up to Kazuya’s mouth until his lips slide against Kazuya’s. It’s not even a real kiss, nothing more than the press of skin to skin, an exchange of the same breaths as Eijun pants against Kazuya’s mouth, but it’s hot, good, God. 

Kazuya doesn’t want it to end. 

“Good?” Kazuya croaks out, trying to keep his pace steady. He’s hard and aching in his own pants, desperate for any kind of friction. “Like this?”

“Yes,” Eijun slurs, sighing against Kazuya’s mouth, hips rolling into Kazuya’s hold. “Don’t stop,” he begs, burying his fingers into Kazuya’s hair. “Don’t stop. Please, please, please.”

Kazuya lets out a choked sound, heat coiling in his belly, simmering, smoldering. There’s something about Eijun’s needy, eager pleading, the way his voice cracks over his words, the way he presses his body as close to Kazuya as possible - it’s heady, intoxicating, making Kazuya feel impossibly powerful.

It doesn’t matter how many times Kazuya has thought about this moment - nothing could have prepared him for how good it feels to watch Eijun fall apart beneath his touch.

“I won’t stop,” Kazuya promises, free hand splaying wide over Eijun’s hip. “I promise,” he murmurs. “I want - “ He pauses, words catching in his throat, embarrassment pooling in his belly. “I want - want you to come,” he finishes, voice trailing off, cracking over the words

“Yes, yes, yes, thank you,” Eijun trembles out, hips beginning to stutter, body rolling, losing his coordination. “‘m close,” he mumbles, nails digging into Kazuya’s scalp. “Please, Kazuya - I - God - “

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Kazuya moans softly, shivering as he watches Eijun begin to unravel. He speeds up without meaning to, frantic and eager to watch Eijun tumble over the edge. “That’s it,” he encourages quietly, words shaking, pulse pounding wildly. “I’m not gonna stop - I want - c’mon.” He stumbles over his words, arousal spiking. “C’mon, Eijun. Let go.”

That’s all it takes before Eijun tips over the edge.

Eijun cries out, entire body writhing against Kazuya’s. His jaw falls slack, eyelids squeezing shut as he bucks into Kazuya’s hand, chasing the pleasure his touch brings. “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” he chants, cock twitching in Kazuya’s palm. “Kazuya.”

Kazuya shudders as he works Eijun through his orgasm, his own lips parting, chest heaving as he pants, absolutely captivated by the way Eijun’s cheeks flush, by the way his brows twitch and his back arches. He catches Eijun’s release in his palm, stroking him until he’s trembling, until he’s burying his face in the crook of Kazuya’s neck, mouthing at his skin aimlessly, slurring out, “Yes - yes - Kazuya - too much, too much, ah.”

Kazuya’s lashes flutter as his own cock twitches.

He slowly brings his hand to a stop, doing his best to hold Eijun steady, sliding his free palm to rest at his lower back. Eijun sighs against him, warm and heavy. 

Kazuya feels as if he has his whole world right here, Eijun at his front and his car at his back.

“You okay there?” Kazuya asks after a moment, his own voice cracking as he tries to calm his racing heart. He feels just as wobbly as Eijun seems, entirely overwhelmed and affected by watching Eijun fall apart at the mercy of his hand. 

“Mmm,” Eijun responds, making a soft noise when Kazuya pulls his hand from his boxers. He eases his tight grip on Kazuya’s hair, slumping against Kazuya, nearly draping himself over him.  “Never been better.”

Kazuya snorts out a laugh, fond affection rolling through him. He wipes his palm over his dirty pants so he can wrap his other arm around Eijun’s waist, holding him close. “Wow,” he drawls, pressing a kiss to Eijun’s temple. “Never been better? Are you saying that was better than racing?”

“Oh, so much better,” Eijun gives easily, voice hoarse. He nuzzles against Kazuya’s jaw, dropping messy kisses over his skin. “That was awesome.”

Kazuya definitely agrees with that statement. He smooths his palms up the line of Eijun’s spine, kissing at his ear. “Yeah,” he says quietly, sighing against the sensitive flesh. “It was.”

Eijun hums contentedly, slowly kissing his way up over Kazuya’s cheek until he can catch his eye, toying with the tresses behind his ear. He glances down the line of Kazuya’s body, catching sight of the neglected tent at the front of his pants, biting his lip. “Can I…?” he asks, skimming a hand down over Kazuya’s chest. “I want - “

Kazuya’s breath catches, body lighting with arousal at the insinuation in Eijun’s words.

Eijun wants to touch him.

And, God, Kazuya wants that, too.

But when he glances over Eijun’s expression, he sees the sleepy, sated dip of his eyelids and the spent, flush of his cheeks. He’s wobbly on his feet, using Kazuya for full support, barely able to hold himself up on his own. The knowledge that Kazuya is the one who did this to him makes Kazuya’s chest ache, makes him yearn, makes him want to do it again, but he pushes down his own coiling desire in favor of taking care of Eijun.

He’s certain there will be plenty of other opportunities to let Eijun return the favor in the future.

“It’s okay,” Kazuya murmurs reluctantly, his cock throbbing in protest as he rubs circles into Eijun’s shoulders. “I mean - I want - I just - “ He exhales deeply, frustrated as he chokes on his words. “You’re spent. Just - don’t worry about me tonight.”

Eijun pouts, chewing at his lip. “But I wanna,” he insists, running his index finger up and down Kazuya’s sternum. “I’ve been thinking about touching you for ages.”

Kazuya’s cheeks burn beneath Eijun’s admission. He swallows thickly, trying to think with his brain and not his neglected erection. “Me too,” he responds truthfully. “But I’m okay,” he reassures, kissing Eijun’s temple sweetly. “Promise.”

Eijun doesn’t protest further, but he brushes his hand over Kazuya’s pectoral, gently thumbing at a nipple curiously. Kazuya’s back arches instinctively, breath catching at the sensation. “Okay,” Eijun acquiesces, nudging his nose to Kazuya’s. “But next time, I get to take care of you,” he declares, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the sensitive nub. “Got it, Miyuki Kazuya?”

Kazuya lets out a shaky sound, squirming beneath Eijun’s gentle touch. “Got it,” he agrees easily, leaning forward to let his lips brush Eijun’s as he speaks. 

Eijun gives him a warm sound of approval in return, tilting his head to kiss him, slow and languid, a little sloppy in his post-orgasm haze. Kazuya returns the kiss with fervor, running his tongue over Eijun’s, sucking at his lower lip gingerly. Eijun groans, sliding his palm up to cup at Kazuya’s cheek. “God, how am I supposed to wait,” Eijun mumbles as he pulls away, “When you go and kiss me like that.”

Kazuya chuckles, smiling salaciously as he pulls away. “Patiently,” he teases.

“I’m bad at patience!” Eijun bemoans cutely, resting his forehead against Kazuya’s. “You know that!”

Kazuya barks out a laugh, rubbing a hand up and down Eijun’s spine. “This is a good exercise for you, then,” he taunts, kissing Eijun chastely. “Does it help to know that I’m going to go home and take care of myself after this?”

Eijun whines, wrapping his elbows around Kazuya’s neck. “Absolutely not,” he mumbles, looking genuinely distressed. “You’re a tease.”

Kazuya bites his lip to keep himself from smiling. He squeezes his arms around Eijun, wrapping him in a hug. “Your tease, though,” he says cheesily, because he knows Eijun will like it, because he’s feeling too soft, too fond, too affectionate - and because it’s true. 

Eijun hums, giggling softly, toying with Kazuya’s hair. “Yeah,” he agrees easily, leaning in close, eyeing Kazuya’s mouth. “You are.”

Kazuya smiles.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

---

Most of the time, Kazuya enjoys picking up shifts at his dad’s shop during the summer.

He gets to see all kinds of cars. Some are fancy luxury vehicles, updated Cadillacs and BMWs with granite trim and leather air vents that hardly look used when he glances inside. Some are standard sedans or sporty hatchbacks with stickers covering the bumpers and small stains dotting the cloth seats.

His favorites, though, are the vintage cars. Old and classic. An old Aston Martin DB4 with its aerodynamic roof and thin, silver bumpers. A 1975 BMW CSL, the same model that’s been driven by countless racing legends, with its square body and round headlamps, low to the ground and compact. A shiny, candy-apple red Volvo P1800 in perfect condition, sleek and beautiful, with a chrome grill at the front and silver plating down the sides. 

He usually loves it - getting to see new types of cars. He usually gets so caught up in checking out the cars and itching to drive them that he doesn’t even realize that his shift is over. 

Today, however, he really wishes the clock would strike 5 p.m. just a little faster.

Because it’s hot, sweltering, really, and Eijun has stripped off the outer layer of his uniform, leaving himself clad in only a white sleeveless shirt and loose navy pants that cinch at his waist.

And Kazuya thinks he’s losing his mind.

He can’t keep his eyes to himself, constantly glancing over at Eijun from behind his service desk. Eijun’s biceps curl and his forearms flex as he digs out tools from his belt. Sweat pools at his forehead, so he lifts the hem of his shirt and wipes it away, giving Kazuya a view of lean muscle and tanned skin. His bangs continuously fall into his eyes, so he digs out a bandana from his work back and ties his hair back, smearing dirt over his cheek in the process.

He’s unfairly attractive.

And with every peek of skin, every dip of muscle, Kazuya thinks of how he brushed his hands over Eijun the other night, how pliant Eijun was, how hot it was to watch as he tipped over the edge, falling to pieces beneath Kazuya’s touch.

Kazuya desperately wants to cross the garage, wants to crowd Eijun back against the side of the car he’s working on, wants to lick into his mouth. He wants to drag his callused hands down Eijun’s torso, feeling the way his abdomen moves beneath his touch as he slides a thigh between Eijun’s legs. 

He wants to get Eijun just as worked up as he is, wants to watch his cheeks flush and his back arch, yielding beneath Kazuya’s demand for affection.

He taps his pen against the desk impatiently, watching as Eijun pauses to take a sip of water, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, tempting Kazuya to go kiss it, to suck at it, leave a mark so Eijun can’t even look in the mirror without thinking of Kazuya. 

Kazuya’s frustration is exacerbated by the fact that Eijun doesn’t seem to notice. That Eijun has been so focused on his tasks that he hasn’t so much as glanced over at Kazuya in nearly an hour.

He makes it another fifteen minutes until he cracks. 

He grabs his clipboard, glancing at it, pretending like he has something important to go tell Eijun, and crosses the length of the garage. 

“Hey,” he greets when he makes it over to the car Eijun is working on. His voice is lower than usual, affected by the desire that’s been simmering at the back of his throat. “How’s it going?”

Eijun smiles over at Kazuya, digging through the line of tools at his belt. “Good!” he responds enthusiastically, eyes bright, just like they always are when Eijun gets to fiddle with an engine. “I think I’m almost done with this one,” he skims his fingers over the front bumper fondly, like he’s petting a cat. “She’ll be ready to go soon!l

Kazuya hums, eyeing the way Eijun’s fingers caress the car. He’s not jealous. Not of a car. “Did you replace the hubcaps?” Kazuya asks, leaning against the side of the car, gaze catching on the way Eijun’s fingers wrap around a wrench. 

Eijun’s brows pull together as he raises a brow in Kazuya’s direction. “The hubcaps?” he echoes, scowling as he looks around the side of the car to glance at a tire. “This car is in for a timing belt issue, not a tire issue.”

“Yeah, but did you check anyway?” Kazuya pushes, grinning as he sways closer, foot knocking against Eijun’s boot. “What if they need to be replaced and you didn’t check? What kind of mechanic would you be then?”

Eijun frowns, wiping his hands on his pants. “I guess I can, it’s not - “ He pauses and then turns a glare towards Kazuya, realizing that Kazuya is messing with him. “Miyuki Kazuya! Stop trying to distract me!”

Kazuya smirks, amused by Eijun’s indignant pout. He bites his lip, reaching out to subtly tug at Eijun’s belt, toying with the hem of his tight shirt. “How’s that fair,” he says lowly, keeping his voice quiet so others won’t hear, “When you’ve been distracting me all day?”

Eijun's eyes roam over Kazuya’s features, instinctively shifting into his touch. “I haven’t been - I’ve been working,” he defends, cheeks lighting with a blush. “I haven’t been bothering you at all!”

Kazuya dips a finger beneath the hem of Eijun’s pants by his hips, snapping the elastic lightly. “Yeah, exactly,” Kazuya mumbles. “You’ve been walking around like this and I’ve just had to watch.” 

Realization dawns on Eijun’s face then, flush spreading down his neck as he rolls his lips into his mouth, trying to keep himself from smiling. “Is that so?” he asks playfully, grabbing the collar of his shirt, slowly pulling it up to wipe the sweat from his throat, keeping his eyes on Kazuya the whole time. Tease. “Do you think I look hot, Miyuki Kazuya?” He sways into Kazuya’s space, tipping his chin up. “Wanna kiss me?”

Kazuya swallows thickly, eyes dropping down to Eijun’s alluring mouth. 

Yes, he thinks. He wants to kiss Eijun. Badly. 

He wants to do more than that, too. 

Kazuya clears his throat, toying with one of the tools hanging from Eijun’s belt near his abdomen, knuckles brushing Eijun’s stomach. “I want to do more than just kiss you,” he echoes his thoughts, voice raspy. 

Eijun inhales shakily. “Oh,” he breathes, lashes fluttering as he chews his lip. He lets out a quiet sound, frustrated, already riling at Kazuya’s words. “What - Miyuki Kazuya,” he mutters, thumbing at the head of his wrench subconsciously, making Kazuya’s heart race. “How am I supposed to focus now?”

Kazuya smiles smugly, pleased that he’s not the only one suffering. He glances at the clock. They still have three hours before they close, but the shop isn’t that busy today. They could - “We could take a break,” Kazuya suggests quietly, stomach flipping nervously. He knows they shouldn’t, but - “I have the keys to the extra conference room.”

Eijun’s cheeks darken at the suggestion, eyes widening. He glances around, licking at his lips before turning his gaze back up to Kazuya, looking up at him beneath his lashes. “That’s bad,” he mumbles, but his eyes betray how interested he is in the idea. Eijun needs very little convincing when the potential for kissing is involved. 

Kazuya’s heart flutters in his ribcage like a trapped hummingbird. “Maybe a little,” he agrees, raising a brow. “You like the idea of it, though,” he accuses, leaning in just a little closer, palm sliding over Eijun’s hip. 

Eijun taps his foot against the pavement restlessly, eyes dropping to Kazuya’s mouth, and Kazuya knows he’s won. “If we get in trouble, it’s your fault,” he declares. 

Kazuya grins.

As soon as they make it inside the empty conference room, Kazuya puts his hands on Eijun, pushing him up against the closed door. His palms cup his jaw, tilting his head up to slide his mouth over Eijun’s, eager and hungry. 

He feels greedy right now. Impatient. Wanting. Eijun moans softly, yielding beneath Kazuya’s onslaught, fingers wrapping around Kazuya’s wrists. He opens beneath Kazuya, letting him deepen the kiss, tongue swiping over his teeth, tangling with Eijun’s own.

“You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me all day,” Kazuya murmurs against his mouth, sighing hotly when Eijun crooks a foot around his calf, pulling him closer. “I’ve been going crazy thinking about all the things I want to do to you.”

Eijun shivers, raising his arms up to wrap around Kazuya’s neck, oil-stained fingers tangling in Kazuya’s hair. “Oh God,” he rasps, tipping his head back, body arching into Kazuya’s instinctively, legs parting to make more room for him. “I like this,” he pants, whimpering when Kazuya’s hands slide down his chest, circling his waist, palms flattening against his back. “I like seeing you like this.”

Kazuya snorts out a laugh as he skims his lips down over Eijun’s jaw. “Horny?” he jokes boyishly, sucking a soft mark at the edge of Eijun’s neck. 

“Needy,” Eijun corrects, voice curling like a taunt around the word. “Tell me what you’ve been thinking about.”

Kazuya’s stomach flips, heart racing at the command. “You want me to talk dirty to you?” he asks incredulously, mouth brushing Eijun’s ear. 

Eijun tips his head back, nails scraping Kazuya’s scalp. “I just want to know what you think about,” he justifies. “Tell me what you want,” he says, dropping a hand to slip his palm beneath Kazuya’s collar at the nape of his neck. “Please?”

Fuck. 

Kazuya nips at Eijun’s ear, sucking at the sensitive lobe in an attempt to calm his thundering heartbeat. He wants - and yet, he’s nervous, anxious, because speaking his thoughts earnestly is something Eijun does, not Kazuya. “I like when you say ‘please’,” Kazuya admits lowly, dropping his mouth down to Eijun’s neck. Then, he takes a shuddering inhale, teeth sinking into sensitive skin. “I’ve been thinking about marking you up a bit.”

Eijun squirms at the idea, hips tilting into Kazuya’s. “Oh yes,” he sighs out, head lolling to the side.

Kazuya’s eyes roll shut, the airy intonation of Eijun’s voice sending electricity over his skin. “You like that idea?” he croaks, opening his mouth, letting his teeth dig into Eijun’s skin, light, gentle, nothing more than a tease of a touch. 

Eijun arches into the touch as if egging Kazuya on. “Yeah,” he murmurs, lashes lowered, eyes dark. “Wanna be able to see you on me even when you’re not there.”

Something warm and sweetly possessive purrs inside of Kazuya, satisfied and entirely turned on by Eijun’s admission. He moans against Eijun’s skin, dragging his tongue over Eijun’s clavicle. “God, I wish I could,” he says, nipping at Eijun’s skin enough for him to feel but not enough to leave a mark. “But if I mark you up right now, everyone will know what we’re up to.”

Eijun huffs at the denial, even though it’s true. “Later, then,” he compromises reluctantly, scratching his nails behind Kazuya’s ears, sliding his hands over his shoulders, digging into the meat of his trapezius. “What else have you thought about?”

Kazuya hums into Eijun’s ear when he kneads at the muscles of his neck. “You really want to hear me talk, don’t you?” He shifts, pressing a knee between Eijun’s, sliding his thigh forward. 

“I like your voice,” Eijun rasps, rolling his hips, shivering when his erection grinds against the meat of Kazuya’s leg. “Ah,” he stutters, hips stuttering. “I like this, too.”

Kazuya grins against Eijun’s throat, dropping kisses up the curve of his neck back up to his cheek. “I’ve been thinking about making you come again,” he offers, heart thudding loudly in his ears. He likes how much Eijun likes hearing him talk, but that doesn’t make it any easier. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since the other day.”

He punctuates his statement by pressing his thigh further against Eijun, earning himself a broken sound. Eijun tips his head to knock his nose against Kazuya’s, panting against his cheek. “Me neither,” he says, voice tinny. “You were so hot.”

Heat simmers beneath Kazuya’s skin at Eijun’s words. “It was good,” he agrees, kneading his fingers into Eijun’s waist. “Really good.”

Eijun’s lashes flutter as he arches into Kazuya. “Yes,” he agrees, rocking his hips, cupping Kazuya’s jaw. “Yes.”

Kazuya makes a soft noise, entranced by how needy Eijun sounds, how wanton, how delicious. He can’t stop himself from closing the space between them, catching Eijun’s mouth for himself, humming in approval when Eijun meets him halfway. 

It’s a messy kiss, uncoordinated, scorching - it makes Kazuya feel a little out of control, a little wild. He likes the way Eijun responds to him, likes the way he presses into Kazuya, lines himself up from head to toe, holds him like he’s precious, important, special. 

Kazuya groans when Eijun sucks at his tongue, when his erection grinds against Kazuya’s own. Kazuya smooths his hand down Eijun’s torso, rucking up his shirt, nails raking over warm flesh as it ventures downward, brushing the coarse hair at his lower belly.

He wants to make Eijun feel the same way Kazuya does.

Desperate. Eager. Burning.

“Wait.” Eijun’s voice cracks when Kazuya’s fingers play with the drawstrings of his uniform pants, fist twisting in the fabric of Kazuya’s shirt. “Wait, wait, wait.”

Kazuya pauses, hand hovering over Eijun’s abdomen. He pulls back, looking down at Eijun with a concerned expression. “You okay?” he asks, arousal humming beneath his skin. He licks his lips and works to calm his racing heart. He doesn't want to stop, but he doesn’t want to keep going if Eijun doesn’t want to. “Want to stop?”

Eijun shakes his head, pushing at Kazuya’s chest until he stumbles, startled by the sudden change, nearly tripping over his own heels. “No,” he asserts, stepping in close until Kazuya’s back hits the opposite wall. “I just - I want - “ He makes a frustrated noise, chewing at his lip in the dim light as if he can’t find the right words. “I want - ugh.”

Kazuya’s arms come up to catch Eijun at the waist, but before he can, Eijun exhales noisily and drops to his knees, hands skimming down Kazuya’s torso, fingers toying with the hem of Kazuya’s shirt. He looks up at Kazuya shyly, cheeks stained pink and lashes hooding his eyes. “I want this.”

He rests a palm at Kazuya’s thigh, leaning in to nudge his cheek against his quadricep, and Kazuya forgets how to breathe.

Kazuya looks down at Eijun, hands hovering in the air above Eijun’s head. “Oh,” he says, brain skipping over the image before him, stalling. “Oh.”

Eijun giggles, but his eyes cut away from Kazuya nervously, fingers playing with the seam of Kazuya’s pants. “Can I?” He pauses, looking back up at Kazuya with pretty eyes. “Please?”

Kazuya’s lips part around a soft sound. He already knows he’s going to regret ever telling Eijun that he likes the sound of that word on Eijun’s lips. His erection throbs between his thighs, hot and hard and eager, responsive to the sight of Eijun like this - on his knees with oil-stained fingers and his mouth only inches away from Kazuya’s clothed cock.

“Yeah,” Kazuya manages to say. “Yeah - you can - yeah.”

Eijun nods slightly, reaching out to remove Kazuya’s pants. He fumbles with the button, fingers slipping over the zipper. He giggles nervously as he tugs the material down to his knees, looking up at him with a cheesy smile. “I pantsed you,” he says, cheeks pink and eyes hooded beneath his lashes. 

Kazuya’s heart squeezes. What a dork.

A dork that Kazuya is totally, impossibly in love with.

“What are you, five?” Kazuya mutters, but he can’t keep himself from smiling, his stomach kicking with butterflies. “Who even says that anymore.”

“I do,” Eijun insists, fiddling with the waistband of Kazuya’s boxers. He lets his eyes dance over the tent between Kazuya’s legs, biting his lip. “Someone’s excited.”

Kazuya’s cheeks burn even though he knows Eijun is teasing, even though he knows Eijun is just as hard as Kazuya is. “You’re about to give me a blowjob,” he defends weakly. “What do you expect?”

Eijun tips forward and presses a soft kiss to Kazuya’s hip, breath warm over his lower belly. “I’m going to give you a great blowjob,” Eijun retorts, nipping at the material of Kazuya’s boxers before he digs his thumbs into the material. “Prepare yourself, Miyuki Kazuya.”

Kazuya snorts out a laugh, because, seriously, what the hell, why does he like this ridiculous boy so much? “Show me, then,” he manages to croak out, exhaling shakily. 

“I will,” Eijun says, puffing his cheeks out with a determined expression as he finally pulls Kazuya’s boxers down to join his pants.

Kazuya’s cock springs free, curving up against his lower belly. Eijun gasps slightly when he sees it, eyes widening, lips parting as he takes it in. Kazuya’s cheeks flush with embarrassment at being so naked in front of Eijun - in front of Eijun’s mouth. 

“Can I touch?” Eijun rasps, glancing up only briefly before turning his gaze back to Kazuya’s erection.

Kazuya groans. “You better,” he mutters, kicking at Eijun’s thigh gently. “Don’t just look at it.”

“I have to look at it,” Eijun returns, but he reaches out with a shaky hand, tentatively wrapping his palm around Kazuya. His touch is light but scorching, pulling a wanton sound from Kazuya’s throat when he curiously strokes him from base to tip. “It’s hot,” he says, even though it’s obvious. 

Kazuya bites his lip to keep himself from whining when Eijun thumbs at the head of his cock experimentally before he leans forward, tentatively licking at the place where precome beads, threatening to slick down the side. Kazuya watches, transfixed, as Eijun’s tongue catches the crown, testing, tasting.

Holy shit. 

It’s an amazing sight. Kazuya has thought about this before, but his imagination has nothing on reality. Eijun’s flushed cheeks and curious tongue, long lashes and strong thighs. His palms sliding over Kazuya’s quadricep to steady himself, nails digging into sensitive flesh.

Eijun’s nose nudges the coarse hair surrounding Kazuya’s erection as he softly mouths at the side, leaving tiny open-mouthed kisses along the length. “It’s big,” he continues, tongue catching at the rim as he explores. “How is this ever supposed to go inside me?”

Kazuya chokes, jaw dropping at Eijun’s babbling, caught somewhere between embarrassed and inexplicably turned on, mind reeling with images that shoot electricity straight down his spine. “Eijun,” he says, fingers fisting at his sides, heart pounding wildly. “What.”

Eijun’s looks up at Kazuya shyly. “It’s a fair question,” he defends, palm gently dragging along the underside of Kazuya’s cock. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” he murmurs, watching the way his own hand tracks over the hot flesh. 

Of course Kazuya has thought about it. Too many times to count, maybe. The feel of their bodies pressed together, skin to skin, hot and sweaty, both a little uncoordinated in their arousal, both sloppy and eager. Eijun’s toes curling, his face scrunching, his hips tilting, as Kazuya tenderly presses a finger into him, slicked and shaking.

The way Eijun would loosen as he adjusts. The way he’d arch into Kazuya’s touch, the way he’d ask for Kazuya’s hand, interlacing their fingers.

The way he’d cling to Kazuya the first time Kazuya slides between his legs and presses into him. The way he’d tremble, the noises he’d make, the way he’d look when he comes, Kazuya’s cock brushing his prostate and hand messily working Eijun’s erection.

The soft way his lips might brush Kazuya’s ear, sleepy and sated in the aftermath, and say, “I love you, Miyuki Kazuya.”

“Of course I’ve thought about it,” Kazuya says, knees wobbling. He’s fairly certain he might come the moment Eijun actually wraps his mouth around him. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this aroused in his entire life. “Don’t just sit there and admire it,” he grumbles hoarsely. 

Eijun giggles, leaning forward to run his tongue over the head again, making Kazuya tremble. “Why?” Eijun asks playfully, gently kissing the tip. “You want me to do something else?”

“Tease,” Kazuya accuses, frustrated even though he likes this - likes the way Eijun makes him wait, likes the way his abdomen clenches, cock twitching with anticipation. “Just wait until I get my mouth on you,” he threatens. “I’ll get you back for this.”

Eijun moans at the mere thought of their roles being reversed. “Okay,” he acquiesces. “Um, just - just tell me if you don’t like something, okay?” he asks, throat bobbing around a swallow. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Kazuya wants to laugh at Eijun’s candid admission, but he’s too infatuated to do anything else but nod. “I will,” he agrees. “Take your time.”

Eijun inhales sharply, giving Kazuya one last determined stare, and then opens his mouth.

It’s hot and wet and all-consuming. He doesn’t take Kazuya very far at first, focusing on the head. He flattens his tongue along the underside and hollows his cheeks gently, and Kazuya burns. 

His skin tingles, pulse racing, cheeks flushing. It’s almost immediately too much, too good. “Oh shit,” Kazuya moans out, head falling forward, legs shaking. “Fuck.”

Eijun looks up at him curiously, eyes searching his expression, lips wrapped around Kazuya’s cock, and Kazuya’s cock twitches, stomach tightening, orgasm already winding tight in his core. “You look so good,” Kazuya blurts before he can stop himself, panting when Eijun slowly lowers his mouth, taking a little bit more in before pulling back up, leaving a trail of spit over Kazuya’s skin and his own chin. “Oh my God.”

Eijun’s chest heaves as he gives Kazuya a couple slow strokes with his palm. “Does it feel good?” he asks, voice already scratchy. 

“Yes,” Kazuya answers immediately, too turned on to even pretend to say anything other than the truth. “Yeah - it’s - yeah.”

Eijun licks his lips. “Good,” he murmurs, wiping his chin with the back of his palm. “Okay, I’m gonna do it again.”

Kazuya takes a steadying inhale and tries to prepare himself, tries not to come before they even get started as if he were a horny teenager. “Okay.”

This time, Eijun wraps his mouth around Kazuya with more confidence, slowly taking him in little by little, eyes rolling shut, fingers digging into his hips. Kazuya’s head falls back against the wall, and it’s all he can do to hold on, to try and keep himself from getting lost in the sensation. 

It takes Eijun a few tries to get a rhythm down, messily bobbing his head. He only takes Kazuya’s halfway, using his hand to work the rest, and it’s good, so good, perfect, amazing, holy shit, Kazuya doesn’t know how he’s ever going to come any other way ever again.

“God, Eijun,” Kazuya moans out, doing his best to keep his hips still when Eijun hollows his cheeks, adding a bit of suction to his motions. “Yes.”

Eijun’s lashes flutter in response, fingers flexing at Kazuya’s hips. He reaches up and grabs one of Kazuya’s hands, palm hot against Kazuya’s wrist as he tugs at it until Kazuya grazes his scalp, butting his head up into the touch. 

Kazuya gets the hint, pushing the bandana that Eijun had tied around his hair earlier out of the way, brushing his fingers through Eijun’s bangs gently, caressing the soft locks. Eijun hums in approval, fingers digging into the meat of Kazuya’s thighs. “Shit,” Kazuya mumbles as the vibrations send pinpricks of pleasure up his spine, pleasure pooling in his lower belly. “Fuck - Eijun.”

His fingers twist in Eijun’s hair before he can stop them, tugging, nails scraping over his scalp. Eijun gasps, popping off of Kazuya, spit and precome smearing across his lips, chin shiny. “I like that,” Eijun croaks, voice scratchy, making Kazuya’s toes curl. “Again.”

Oh God.

Kazuya lets out a raspy sound, hips tilting into the air in response to Eijun’s request, cock swaying against his belly. He pants as he cards his other hand through Eijun’s hair, tightening his knuckles around soft locks, pulling softly. “Like that?”

Eijun moans, leaning forward to mouth at Kazuya’s cock, catching on the crown. “Yes,” he affirms, his own back arching, hips seeking friction and finding none. “Yeah, please.”

“God,” Kazuya groans, trembling when Eijun wraps his lips back around Kazuya’s length, tongue teasing the slit. “You’re going to kill me.”

Eijun hums around the head of Kazuya’s cock and Kazuya’s hips buck involuntarily. Eijun pulls back, resting his lips at the crown, looking up at Kazuya with dark eyes. “Keep talking,” he commands.

Kazuya breathes heavily, helpless to obey Eijun’s demand. “Your mouth is so hot,” he babbles, fingers twining into the hair behind Eijun’s ears. “You’re so hot. So pretty. So good.” 

Eijun keens, pulling off for a moment to pant over hot flesh. “Yes,” he says, lashes fluttering. 

Kazuya bites back a whimper when Eijun drops his mouth back down, opening his jaw, tongue slicking back over him. He bobs his head sloppily and Kazuya tries to keep his hips still, but he can’t quite help it when they start to rock in time with Eijun’s mouth, knees splaying wide and unsteady. The sound of Eijun’s mouth slicking over his cock, sloppy and wet, fills Kazuya’s ears. It’s obscene and messy and hot, and Kazuya knows he absolutely is not going to last much longer.

Eijun must realize it, because he picks up the pace, losing all semblance of technique as he works Kazuya, moaning around his cock as Kazuya’s palm splay wide over the back of his head. He sucks at the head, hollowing his cheeks, tongueing at the slit, winding Kazuya tighter and tighter, drawing him higher and higher, orgasm racing towards him at an alarming speed.

“Eijun,” Kazuya pants, knuckles tangling in Eijun’s hair. He’s close, painfully close, and he wants to warn Eijun, wants to - “I’m gonna - you can - fuck - yes - “

Kazuya comes with a loud, drawn out moan, uncaring that someone could walk by the room, hips bucking into the heat of Eijun’s mouth. Pleasure washes over Kazuya, knees nearly giving out, heart flooding through him. Eijun lets out a long, desperate sound, jaw falling open wide as his nails dig into Kazuya’s thighs, eyes screwing shut as Kazuya’s release hits his tongue. 

“Fuck - yes, yes, yes - “ Kazuya’s toes curl in his shoes, orgasm ripping through him, leaving him panting, his fingers. Eijun coughs, throat contracting around him on accident, and Kazuya gasps, fingers digging in Eijun’s hair as he writhes from the oversensitivity. 

Eijun pulls away, panting for breath, letting out a soft whimper as he skims his mouth against Kazuya’s thigh, sloppily nuzzling into his skin. “Kazuya,” he keens after a moment, voice wrecked. “Holy shit.”

It takes Kazuya a long moment before he can open his eyes again, chest heaving, heart pounding. He feels dizzy on his feet as he sluggishly looks down at Eijun. Eijun’s eyes are hazy and his mouth is swollen, slick, ruddy. His hair is a mess, tangled in Kazuya’s hands, sticking up around his ears. Kazuya does his best to smooth it down, petting Eijun gently. “You okay?” he manages to ask, brushing Eijun’s bangs away from his forehead. 

“Uh-huh,” Eijun responds slowly, reaching up to tug at Kazuya’s shirt. “Come down here,” he commands, words slurred together as he looks up at Kazuya with wide, blown pupils. “Kiss me.”

Fuck. 

Kazuya groans, enamored by the fucked-out expression in Eijun’s face. He slowly slides down the wall to gather Eijun in a loose embrace. “Better?”

“Mhm,” Eijun murmurs, immediately digging his hands into Kazuya’s hair. “Kiss me,” he repeats. 

Kazuya does, catching Eijun’s mouth beneath his own, licking at the seam, tasting himself on Eijun’s mouth. It’s phenomenal, knowing that Eijun’s lips had just been around him only moments before, licking heat beneath Kazuya’s skin even though he’s completely spent. 

“Mmm,” Eijun hums into the kiss, movements slow and languid. “Thank you.”

Kazuya huffs out a hoarse laugh, peppering soft kisses over Eijun’s cheeks. “What are you thanking me for?” he asks gently, because Eijun’s the one who just had his sweet mouth around Kazuya's erection. “Want me to…?” He continues, lips brushing Eijun’s chin as he drops his hand, skimming down Eijun’s torso.

Eijun squeaks and grabs Kazuya’s wrist, stopping his descent. He clears throat and drops his face to Kazuya’s neck, nuzzling into his collar. “Don’t - You don’t need to,” he says quietly, twisting his hand to interlace their fingers. “I already - um.”

“What do you mean - “ Kazuya begins, then pauses, realizing what Eijiun is saying. Oh, fuck. “Did you - oh my God. You came?”

Eijun groans and bites at Kazuya’s neck in retaliation, nipping at the junction where his throat meets shoulder. “Shut up,” he mumbles, soothing the bite with his tongue. “That was hot, okay? I liked it a lot.” He pauses, squeezing their fingers. “I like you a lot.”

Kazuya’s head lolls to the side, making more room for Eijun’s gentle love bites, arousal spiking at the thought that Eijun came just from going down on him. Holy hell. “I love you, too,” he says, rubbing small circles into the small of Eijun’s back with his free hand. 

Eijun stiffens in his arms, breath catching against Kazuya’s ear. He pulls back quickly, eyes wide as they roam over Kazuya’s features, cheeks pink and lips parted. “You - “ He begins, voice thready, words catching in his throat. 

That’s when Kazuya realizes what he’s said. 

Kazuya’s heart leaps into his throat, pulse pounding in his ears. 

Oh, God. 

He can’t believe - he didn’t mean to say that. 

It’s not that it’s not true - he just wasn’t prepared for that admission, not yet, not now, not here, on the floor of an empty conference room in his dad’s shop while they’re still technically on the clock. 

“Um,” Kazuya says, trying to keep his voice steady and failing. “I didn’t mean that - I mean, I did mean it, but that wasn’t - “ He flusters, stumbling over his words, glancing away. “Fuck.”

Eijun stares at him for a long moment before he giggles softly, nervously, fingers curling at the sides of Kazuya’s neck. “Oh my God,” he says, tone caught somewhere between amused and endeared, skin tinting pink. “Miyuki Kazuya.”

“Don’t laugh,” Kazuya sputters, embarrassment pooling in his gut even as his chest warms with adoration. Eijun is so pretty. “Asshole.”

Eijun’s laughter only intensifies, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he buries his face in Kazuya’s throat, wrapping his arms around his neck to hold him close. Kazuya feels helpless beneath him, arms circling his waist, keeping his chest pressed to Kazuya’s, heartbeats fluttering together. 

“That wasn’t romantic at all,” Eijun eventually says as his laughter subsides, voice still shaking with his own emotion. 

Kazuya takes a deep breath to quell the butterflies in his belly. “My bad,” he mutters, “Want me to take it back, then?”

He’s only half joking. 

Because he’s entirely too aware that Eijun hasn’t returned his sentiment yet.

Eijun makes a petulant noise, straightening from his hiding place to give Kazuya a fierce glare, leaning forward until their noses brush. “Absolutely not,” he demands. “I’ve been waiting to hear that forever.”

Kazuya’s heart skips. 

“You have?” he asks softly, cheeks burning. His palms splay wide over Eijun’s shoulder blades, keeping him close.

Eijun nods shyly, curling his fingers around Kazuya’s ears. “I wanted to say it after our first kiss,” he admits, looking away sheepishly. “But I knew you’d probably freak out if I said it too soon, so I figured… I should wait for you to say it first.”

Oh. 

Kazuya’s jaw drops, emotion swelling at the back of his throat. Eijun’s words hit him like a ton of bricks, like the whiplash of gunning the accelerator too quickly.

Eijun has wanted to say I love you, too. 

He clears his throat, trying to keep his feelings in check. “I’m impressed,” he tries to tease, but his words are too airy. “You’re usually awful at keeping secrets.”

Eijun rolls his eyes, tugging at a lock of Kazuya’s hair in retaliation. “Don’t ruin the moment, Kazuya,” he mumbles, but he’s smiling as he brushes Kazuya’s bangs out of his eyes, thumb tracing the line of his brow. He pauses, curling his palm around Kazuya’s cheek. “I love you, too.”

Something giddy and sweet unfurls in Kazuya’s chest. His gaze softens, hands sliding down the line of Eijun’s spine. 

Kazuya must be the luckiest person on the planet. 

Kazuya doesn’t know how else to convey all he’s feeling, so he leans forward and kisses Eijun gently, lips brushing like they had during their first kiss, tender and careful. He tilts his head and rolls their lips together, slow and languid, drawing it out, stealing Eijun’s breath for himself until Eijun whimpers, cupping at Kazuya’s jaw, opening his mouth to swipe his tongue against Kazuya’s, deepening the kiss.

When they part, Kazuya nips at his lip, and Eijun’s brows scrunch together, a groan falling from the back of his throat, fingers digging into Kazuya’s hair. “Okay, yeah,” Eijun says, looking down at Kazuya with a molten gaze. “I really love you.”

Kazuya laughs, something self-satisfied and pleases kicking in his chest. “I love you, too,” he says again. He glances at the clock on the wall. They’ve been gone for… longer than Kazuya intended. “We should probably head back out before someone starts looking for us.”

Eijun whines, pressing his forehead to Kazuya’s. “The last thing I want to do right now is go back to work,” he mutters. “I thought you loved me.”

At this, Kazuya snorts, rolling his eyes. “You’re going to use that as an excuse all the time now, aren’t you?”

Eijun smiles, kissing Kazuya’s cheek. “That depends,” he says coyly, running his fingers through Kazuya’s hair. “Does it work?”

Kazuya breathes out a laugh and smacks Eijun in the hip, delighting in the way Eijun squirms in response. “Brat,” he murmurs affectionately. “If you aren’t careful, I’ll take it all back.”

Eijun reluctantly climbs off of Kazuya’s lap, helping Kazuya to his feet. Kazuya sways on wobbly knees, leaning back against the wall to steady himself. “No take backs!” Eijun says playfully, reaching out to help Kazuya pull his pants back up, hands grazing his thighs teasingly. “You’re stuck with me, Miyuki Kazuya.”

“Stuck with you?” Kazuya echoes, brows jumping as he adjusts himself, grimacing at the uncomfortable feel of his stained boxers. “Oh no. Just kidding, I change my mind.”

“Hey!” Eijun protests, kicking at Kazuya’s shoe. “Don’t be rude, Miyuki Kazuya.”

Kazuya laughs, leaning down to drop a quick kiss to Eijun’s mouth just because he can, just because he likes the way Eijun’s blush darkens and his expression changes into one of surprise. “You like it,” he drawls lowly, catching Eijun at the waist, kissing the corner of his lips.

Eijun hums at Kazuya’s sweet gesture. “You can’t just kiss me to get me to be quiet,” he accuses, hand fisting at Kazuya’s shirt.

Kazuya grins. “Yes I can,” he declares, feeling as if he might be on top of the world, as if he couldn’t possibly want anything more than what he has in this moment. “You like that, too.”

Eijun giggles and rolls his eyes, chewing his lip as he tips his chin back up for one more kiss. “No,” he corrects, “I love it.”

---

There are more people at the drag strip than usual tonight.

Kazuya checks his dash, making sure everything looks good. He secures his straps and grabs his gloves from the passenger seat, pulling them over his hands before he picks up his helmet.

“Ready to go?” 

Kazuya glances over to catch Eijun stepping up to his car, leaning in through the window, hovering close. “Of course,” Kazuya responds easily, smiling cockily. “I’m looking forward to another win.”

Eijun rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile on his mouth. He tips forward, reaching up to cup at Kazuya’s cheek. “Don’t get too full of yourself,” he warns, wagging his brows. “I was only half a second behind you last time.”

Kazuya is well aware. “Still half a second too slow,” Kazuya taunts, dropping a sweet kiss to Eijun’s wrist. “Good enough for second place, though.”

Eijun huffs, knocking his nose to Kazuya’s. “I can’t wait to wipe that smug smile off your face,” he murmurs. Then, he tilts his head to press his mouth to Kazuya’s, warm and familiar, swiping his tongue over Kazuya’s lip, and Kazuya immediately yields, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss just as Eijun pulls away. 

Kazuya resists the urge to protest when Eijun straightens, grinning smugly as he tucks his helmet beneath his arm. “Good luck, Miiyuki Kazuya,” he says, stepping away from Kazuya’s door. “I’m coming for you.”

Kazuya groans at the double entendre of his words, dropping his head back against the seat to give Eijun an unimpressed glare. “Trying to distract me isn’t going to work, you know.”

Eijun smirks, bracing himself with an elbow on Kazuya’s roof. “Who said that’s what I’m trying to do?” he teases, quirking a brow.

Kazuya’s cheeks burn. “Brat,” he murmurs affectionately, eyeing Eijiun’s mouth. “I hope you’re ready to lose again.”

Eijun grins boyishly. “We’ll see about that,” he returns. “See you at the finish line.”

Kazuya bites his lip over a smile as Eijun tucks his hair into his helmet and jogs over to his own car. He watches as Eijun hops into the driver’s seat, feeling fired up, ready to race, and entirely, irrevocably in love. 

He puts his hands on the wheel and waits for the green light.