It had started after they'd watched a movie. "Everybody needs practice," the woman had said, and Fubuki had turned a puckish smile upon Manjoume, setting the idea in his head. Manjoume had been nervous, but it was practice, it didn't really count. It wasn't like it was his first real kiss. So if there were bumped noses or clashed teeth, as long as Fubuki gave him that soft chuckle afterwards, it was fine.

It was more than fine, really. The best part of kissing Fubuki was the moment before: watching his tongue flick out to moisten his lips, leaning in so close but not quite there, closing his eyes and relying on instinct to close the gap. Then there was the kiss itself, give and take, soft and firm, the feeling of Fubuki's tongue sliding over his own setting a fire in his stomach. That was also the best part. And the last best part was the moment after, watching Fubuki's warm eyes smiling as he caressed Manjoume's face, the fingers on his left hand calloused from his guitar while the right was worn smooth from dueling.

It was only practice. Not strange at all that Manjoume didn't need to think about anyone else while he was kissing Fubuki. He was just feeding off Fubuki's natural romantic energies. And he was getting good at it. He could tangle his fingers in Fubuki's hair, squeeze ever so slightly and elicit a soft whine which brought Fubuki closer, begging hungrily. He could pull back, teasing at Fubuki's bottom lip, making Fubuki grab his shoulders and pull them together, the heat between them rising. He could stray with his kisses to the corner of Fubuki's mouth, or his ear, or his neck, marking the change in Fubuki's expression to something dark and greedy. And if he was a little disappointed when Fubuki would insist that they stopped there, well, it was only kissing practice after all.

"We're going to have to stop this," whispered Manjoume between the soft touch of their lips, the tip of his nose rubbing gently against Fubuki's.

"Why?" Fubuki pressed his lips to Manjoume's. Manjoume kissed back, in no hurry to respond.

"We graduate soon. We'll leave here, and probably not see each other for ages, and by then we'll probably have girlfriends or something." The sentence was a waste of what Manjoume's mouth could currently be doing, and he redoubled his efforts.

"You think we've had enough practice?" Fubuki murmured, his breath falling softly on Manjoume's cheek and making his heart flutter.

"Maybe not just yet." Manjoume cupped Fubuki's jaw and leaned in again. Fubuki spoke before Manjoume could initiate the kiss.

"You know, we could make it real." There was that smile again, the light of mischief so endearing.

"We can do that?"

"Why not? Be my boyfriend, Manjoume Jun."

It was Manjoume's first kiss. And he knew exactly what he was doing.