DrizzleThe rain started lashing down about 10 minutes ago now, and shows no sign of letting up any time soon. From the comfort of his apartment, Akira just shrugs it off and slings the magazine he was reading aside. It wasn't as though he had any plans, so a downpour isn't the end of the world or anything.

Standing, he stretches once and thinks about doing some body weight exercises, when the door buzzer sounds, signalling an arrival.

No plans also meant that he isn't expecting anyone either. With a frown, he moves to open it, wondering who it could be.

Backed by a torrential downpour and the dark, grey-black of the cantankerous sky, Seiji stands there, smiling, and soaked to the skin.

"Hey," he offers whilst pushing wet hair back from his face, "How's it going"

Akira doesn't answer that question, but retorts:

"What the hell Did you walk over here in this"

"What, you think a little drizzle would stop me from seeing you" Seiji lowers his eyes and glances upwards with a tilt of his head - the 'coy' act. One or two raindrops fall down his face, catching on his lashes as he continues, "Or maybe I was simply taking a walk and got caught without an umbrella. Your place was closest, so I'm here to take shelter... If that's alright with you"

Both options sound like some kind of an excuse, but Akira doesn't feel like arguing. Absentmindedly, his eyes are trailing lower, honing in on the soft pink of that normally pale skin suggested through the translucent fabric of his shirt.

"Come on and let me in already," Seiji's expression is audible - raised eyebrows and a sardonic grin, "I don't need to be out here for you to stare at my nipples, do I"

Akira's gaze has already flicked back up, and he responds, maybe a little too quickly, "Fine."

He steps aside to allow Seiji to saunter indoors, locking up behind him whilst he slips off his shoes.

"You know, I can't help but notice you didn't deny it..."

"Deny what"

"The fact you were staring," Seiji replies, glancing over his shoulder.

Akira simply snorts, and walks past him to grab a towel, "Hold on, I'll go find you a spare t-shirt or something."

"So dependable-"

"Hey," he cuts him off when he moves to follow after him, "You're not going anywhere near my bed until after you've gotten changed, got it"

"Fine, fine," Seiji begins loosening his tie, "...Are you gonna help me dry off"

"Huh" Akira frowns, "You can dry yourself, can't you"

The look Seiji gives him is familiar; it reads 'ulterior motive'.

"I can, yes. But I'm asking you," starting to unfasten the buttons of his shirt, he adds, smirking, "...Or 'inviting you', if that makes it any clearer."

"Aren't you worried about me messing up your hair"

"Oh When has that ever bothered you" Seiji chuckles as Akira pulls the towel around him, "You've never cared to ask permission to make a mess of me before now..."

Akira lets out a gruff, half-hearted sigh before ruffling the towel around his head - maybe a mite rougher than Seiji had been expecting, since he's already grunting and complaining from underneath.

"Gently, you brute Jeez, are you trying to take my head off"

Something about this feels faintly familiar. A memory from when they were smaller. A time when Seiji had been the one to towel him off instead. Akira can remember arriving at his house, drenched after being ambushed by some summer storm, and Seiji laughing, pulling him inside and insisting on helping to dry him off.

Akira had been less than amused, being treated like a dog brought in from the rain. But Seiji was persistent, chastising him and praising his foolhardiness in equal measure, before going strangely quiet and pulling the towel down suddenly over his face.

His mouth met Akira's - their lips fitting together awkwardly through the thickness of the fabric - and pausing there a moment until he pulled away with a sweet trickle of laughter.

He had brushed it aside at the time, left feeling confused and unsure as to what his friend's intentions had been. The afternoon that they had spent together afterwards was no different to normal, so it didn't seem important enough to dwell upon further.

Only now, 8 years later, does Akira realise 'that' had been a kiss.

He falls still.

"...Huh."

"Huh" Seiji repeats, "What's wrong"

"...Nothing. Just remembered something from when we were kids."

"Hm Something good" the other asks, sounding softer this time.

Beneath the veil of the towel, Akira can see the gentle curve of his smile, then a white hand reaches up lift the edge a little further to allow one eye to peek out.

Seeing his face - a dusting of pink on his nose and cheeks, and damp, scraggly hair sticking to his skin - Akira can't help but think he looks incredibly... 'cute'.

That one eye sparkles, full of earnest affection.

"Buddy. You're staring again."

Thinking no further, Akira quickly pulls the towel back down over his face, and kisses him.

Seiji's icy fingers find their way to his forearms, holding them in place instead of pushing him away. It's strangely intimate, Akira thinks, considering the barrier between them.

When he finally leans back, both of them are quiet, and Akira pauses just briefly before pulling the towel down to sit around Seiji's shoulders.

"...So it was 'that' time, huh" Seiji mumbles - flustered, but from the faint twitch of a smile, not displeased, "Trust you to remember something so stupid."

"You're the one who did it."

He pouts at Akira's counter, and grumbles back, "When I was a kid, dumbass. Can't you kiss me like a grown up"

Akira meets the challenge without hesitation, grabbing both ends of the towel to draw Seiji against him. He's still slightly damp, and cold to the touch, but soft, and the shape of his body - how his hips and chest and lips slot perfectly inline with his own - all comfortable and familiar and pleasing to his senses.

Seiji hums and smiles, pecking him once more, lightly, as they part.

"So..." he grins, eyeing Akira's lips as his lidded eyes return upwards to flash with devious implication, "Now you've helped me dry off, do think you can warm me up too"

Akira smiles back, sighing in exasperation, but isn't all that opposed to the suggestion.