Prompt-Clinché (AkaFuri)

It was on the walk back from the restaurant that Kōki wondered whether it was going anywhere.

The third date (or 'date' as he didn't know whether the first one counted), and Akashi hadn't tried to make more of a move than holding his hand. Which was nice, certainly, but they were both adults.

But initiating something with Akashi was not easy.

"Thank you for tonight," he said when they reached Kōki's apartment.

Akashi's smile, even though it was slightly predatorial, made Kōki's heart thump a bit quicker. He took Kōki's hand and leaned forwards to kiss his cheek. Even with that simple touch, he shivered and bit his lip. He felt ridiculous, like some smitten schoolgirl, but still.

But then Akashi was pulling away, squeezing his hand before letting it go. "You can choose where we go next time. I'll call you tomorrow."

He turned away and Kōki's stomach dropped to his feet. He huffed out a breath and dug his hands into his coat pockets.

Well, what was the worst case scenario? Not that he had enough time to think about it. "Akashi!" he called out. His knees weakened when Akashi turned but he still ran the few metres up to him.

"Kōki—" he started, but Kōki grabbed hold of his scarf and pulled him closer, almost smashing his mouth to Akashi's. He was worried for a second when he didn't respond and started to pull away, an apology forming on his lips and a blush colouring his skin scarlet, but then Akashi's hand was on his neck and keeping him close. Every kiss shot bolts of lightning through him. It was like those ridiculous romcoms his mother and sister loved so much.

But to be honest, with Akashi he really didn't mind the cliché.