Chapter Text
Tamaki is startled from his deep and spiralling thoughts by the sound of firm knocks coming from the other side of his bedroom door. Their staccato sound echos in the almost completely silent room, reverberating in the empty space between Nejire and himself. Tamaki feels every single one of his senses zero in on the unexpected stimuli, his complete attention transfixed by the presence of whoever stands on the other side of it, separated from him by only a meer thin layer of wood.
“Hmm,” sing-songs Nejire pointedly in a hushed tone quiet enough that the figure on the other side of the door won’t hear her. “I wonder who that could be?” She says, voicing her question aloud with a lilted tone. Except this time her voice doesn’t sound as inquiring as it normally does when she’s asking any of her many questions. Instead it’s jovial, almost sly, intonation hinting at her knowing more than she’s willing to disclose- in particular, he would bet his companion knows exactly who it was that just knocked on Tamaki’s door and interrupted their conversation. Yet, it seems that in this singular instance she is preferring to keep that information to herself, perhaps in an attempt to tease Tamaki rather than divulge such secrets to the likes of him.
Not that it really matters, because all things considered, Tamaki has a pretty good estimation of who it is that’s waiting for him on the other side of the door.
It’s not as if there was ever really any question as to who it could be.
“Tamaki-kun,” calls Mirio, his raised voice carrying through the wood of the door in question. “You in there?”
Tamaki feels his back straighten unconsciously, his shoulder pull back and his neck grow long. It’s as if his body is unknowingly preparing him to face whatever might lie ahead, all which he will have to soon greet, waiting for him to finally open that door. It’s as if, given everything, Tamaki still wants to impress Mirio, still wants to be his best self for Mirio, still wants to prove his worth to the other teen, to everyone.
“Tamaki-kun? Please answer me at least.” Comes Mirio’s voice, and it sounds smaller now, less Mirio , almost… Hesitant, Tamaki would have to say if he was asked to describe it. It’s not a word he often uses in relation to his best friend, and it’s not one he hopes to use any more often in that regard. The lack of confidence in Mirio’s demeanor, ever palpable even through the door, is enough to make Tamaki’s heart pang, and his fingers twitch, as if trying to reach out unconsciously for the one they wish to hold, offer all the protection and comfort they can possibly give.
Tamaki’s breath hitches noticeable in the quiet room. He prays that Nejire remains unaware of his reaction to the newcomer, but he knows his attempted nonchalance fails miserably in its fight against her piqued interest and sharp eyes, who keenly observe every little movement he makes.
Nejire has her hands clasped behind her back as she sways to the beat of an unheard melody, her eyes alight and bright with mischief, her gaze focused in on the anxious teen in front of her. Tamaki turns to her, eyes wide and hands held up and open in a what do I do gesture. He’s suddenly feeling both hot and cold all over and his stomach is a bundle of nerves he doubts will ever be able to be properly untangled. Nejire just snickers behind a raised hand, gesturing with the other for him to go on .
Tamaki’s heart might stutter and then skip a beat before catching itself, picking up speed and racing off inside his chest, all within the span of an instant as he goes to open the door and greet the teen waiting for him on the other side of it. He’s not sure what to expect in all honesty, and he’s almost completely sure that he is wholly unprepared for whatever it might entail. Nevertheless, he grips the metal handle with his newly called upon resolve, and opens the door.
Mirio stands on the other side of it, hand raised in a fist as if preparing to knock once more on the wood that separates them. His prominent lips and blonde brows are sunken into a frown, the lines between them deep and tense. His dark eyes are serious, worry, concern and an almost unreadable emotion shining through the depths of them as they gaze back at Tamaki. His usually perfectly sculpted hair is dischevilled, as if thick fingers have run through the blond strands atop his head many times in sequence, as if the tresses have been pulled and prodded at by an absent-minded hand full of stress that had gotten a hold of them.
Mirio straightens at the motion of the door swinging slowly open, as if caught utterly unprepared by the action. As if he hadn’t expected Tamaki to open the door to him, to open up to him by any means, and this display causes a clenching deep within Tamaki’s chest that hurts most unprecedentedly. Tamaki has to swallow around a lump building in his throat that has begun to thicken at the sight he finds in his dorm room entrance.
Tamaki’s fingers shake slightly as they come up to tug at a stray lock of his hair, his eyes meet Mirio’s from under his eyelashes and messy bangs, a makeshift shield to protect his most vulnerable insecurities. “Mirio-kun,” he greets. “Hey.”
“Togata-kun!” Calls Nejire from behind him with a wave, bouncing on the balls of her feet. It’s as if she’s completely unable to contain her energetic nature within a still body. “What an unexpected surprise it is to find you here.” She continues, her voice warm and lilted, her teasing tone relentless as she stares down her newest target with all-knowing eyes and a smirk to match.
“Oh, hi, Hadou-chan.” Greets Mirio. By the slight surprise and sudden bashfulness of his demeanor, it’s obvious Mirio hadn’t expected to find both her and Tamaki there when he’d first knocked. Tamaki notices as a pink tint begins to bloom along Mirio’s cheekbones as he continues to stand there in the doorway.
“Whatever could be your reasoning for coming all the way over here?” She asks. though it seems quite obvious to everyone else that she’s not actually unaware of the answer to such an inquiry. It’s not as if she’s blind to the fact Mirio lives only next door to Tamaki’s own room, or, more importantly, about all that has been building between them surely and steady this past while to lead to such an inevitable confrontation of sorts.
“Uh, I just-” Mirio stumbles out. He stops, lets out a short bark of laughter that feels slightly off , unfitting in contrast with the unspoken tension that is growing thickly in the space between himself and the others. One of his hands comes up to rub at the back of his neck, his eyes slide away, downcast and directed seemingly anywhere but at the teens standing in front of him.
As the awkward burst of laughter dies down, the blond shifts his feet before looking back up at Tamaki. Much to Tamaki’s surprise, Mirio’s expression is open, and almost pleading as he gazes back at the other teen. Tamaki’s not completely sure what it is Mirio’s looking for, here, in his doorway, but knowing that Mirio is in need of his help is enough to kickstart Tamaki’s resiliency, and force him to finally take action in the face of it all.
“Nejire-chan,” interrupts Tamaki, bracing himself for what’s to come, for what he knows he has to do, as he turns to look her in the eyes. “Would you mind giving Mirio-kun and I some alone time to talk?”
“Hmm,” she hums musically in pretend thought as she takes a few steps closer to him. As a result, she ends up in close enough proximity to Tamaki to sling an arm over his shoulder. He hunches them up automatically, but notices it, and steadies himself by taking a deep breath before letting them slowly lower back down. He feels grounded under the weightedness of his friend’s presence around him, the perception of that fact tangible in the sensation of her arm around his thin frame. He knows this is her little way of showing her support, of being there for him when he feels his weakest, and his heart warmes in appreciation of the kind gesture, grateful to have her by his side.
“Since you asked so nicely and all, I guess I can leave you two alone for a little while.” Nejire says, a cadence to her tone of voice belying the teasing nature of her words. She leans in close and whispers into Tamaki’s ear quietly enough so that only he can hear her. “Don’t you know, I’m always here if you need me. So, just call or text me if you do, alright chicken-heart?”
“Yeah, okay.” Tamaki nods as he shoots her a sideways glance. “Thanks, Nejire-chan.” Bright blue eyes smile warmly back at him in return before Nejire removes her arm from around his shoulders. He readjusts to the absent weight as she makes her way to his doorway, her steps practically skips as her feet barely touch the ground beneath her.
“See you later, Tamaki-kun, Togata-kun!” She calls as she leaves them with a little wave on her way out the door. They both watch her exit, silently, and Tamaki can feel his own blush start to travel up from his chest to his neck at the knowing smirk and suggestive wink she shoots him right before she’s out of sight. He hopes Mirio doesn’t catch any of it, but he’s almost positive that the other teen picked up on everything that interaction entailed, with a very small chance of missing any little part of it.
Once Nejire’s started to make her way down the corridor, Mirio finally takes a step forward into Tamaki’s dorm room and shuts the door behind him. They stay like that for a small moment that feels like an eternity, silent as their eyes meet. Tamaki feels his skin burn under the unreadable look that’s ever-present in Mirio’s eyes as he gazes back at the anxious teen before him. Tamaki’s never felt this raw before, this exposed, even though he hasn’t said a word, hasn’t removed an article of clothing. He’s fully dressed and silent, but he feels like he’s anything but.
The way Mirio’s looking at him makes him feel like he might not be the only one feeling that way.
“So,” Mirio says, breathing out, looks away. “Hadou-chan called you Tamaki-kun, huh?”
“Oh, yeah,” answers Tamaki, his posture straightens and he blinks back at Mirio’s almost guarded expression. He’s not sure what to make of Mirio’s reaction, but he suddenly feels like he needs to clarify everything, doesn’t want to be misunderstood about something as important as this. The words begin to tumble out from his mouth unbidden. “We’ve been friends for so- so long… It- it just sort of happened.”
“Of course,” replies Mirio. “Right,” but his voice is doing something funny, and he’s still not looking over at Tamaki, and Tamaki knows he doesn’t understand it properly, not yet anyways.
“Yeah, it’s- it’s because we’re good friends. Not- not like it is with you and me.” Tamaki blurts out, quick to try and correct himself as he words spill out of him, completely unfiltered. He can feel his pulse quicken as he tries to stutter his way through a proper explanation, grasping for the words he needs to properly express himself and coming up short without them.
“That’s not to say that we aren’t friends… Of course. I just mean that- that…” He cuts himself off to take a gulp of air. His heartbeat is racing in his chest and pounding loudly in his ears. It’s practically all he can hear in tandem with the quick breaths that break the silence in the small room and the tense space between them.
“Of course we’re friends… I just mean that we’re not just friends… Not like Nejire and I are.” Mumbles Tamaki, his voice becoming quieter and quieter as he continues to speak. He can barely hear himself talk over the drumming of his heart against his ribcage. He feels like he might burst into flames right on the spot by how hot his face is growing.
But that’s okay, because when he glances shily up at Mirio, Mirio is finally looking back at him, and his eyes are dark and bottomless and so full of something that it has Tamaki’s chest swelling with emotions he’s not sure he can fully name.
“You think… We’re more than just friends?” Asks Mirio, his voice soft like well-washed cotton as he gazes back at Tamaki.
Tamaki’s chest is tightening and his stomach is in knots, but he calls upon every last ounce of resilience he has within himself to continue to meet Mirio’s searching gaze as he gives his honest reply.
“I- I think so,” whispers Tamaki, his voice hoarse around the lump in his throat. “Or at least, I want to be.”
At that admission Mirio’s entire demeanor shifts completely. In the next instant he’s gone from unnaturally stoic and practically motionless to something that appears to magnify the optimistic teen’s larger than life nature. A smile flashes across his face, and there’s color blooming along his cheekbones, a upwards twerk to the corner of his lips that sends Tamaki’s heart into overdrive.
A moment later Mirio seems to catch himself, his emotions that were only an instant before painted so plainly on his skin now begin to fade, along with the open expressions displayed on his face that speak of a million things Tamaki wishes he could understand, and a thousand stories Tamaki wishes he knew by heart. As Tamaki sees Mirio physically pull himself together, sees the expressive nature of a welcoming disposition begin to disappear right there in front of him, Tamaki wants to scream in frustration and disappointment. He wants to grab onto the tangle of complicated feelings surrounding his heart and tug on them until they finally give.
Every inch of Mirio that grows ever more reserved feels like another mile of distance added between them, and Tamaki can’t fathom giving way to more of this after he had just felt Mirio’s presence so very close and open to him a moment before. In reality it appears as though nothing has changed, Mirio’s stance before him has barely shifted. Perhaps it’s slightly more reserved, his smile a little thinner, his eyes a little tighter. But Tamaki can feel the barriers separating himself and his closest friend begin to build and solidify like impenetrable concrete walls standing between them.
“Tamaki-kun,” breaths out Mirio, his broad chest rising and falling heavily as he practically pants into the quiet of the dorm room. “Do you really mean that?”
Tamaki just stares back into tentative eyes, filled both with hope and defeat, their intensity sending a shiver down his spine.
“Yes,” he whispers, implores into dark depts that swim before him. His pulse is racing and he’s not entirely sure he’s even breathing, but he’s still standing, and that has to count for something. “Very much so.”
“Because if you don’t, that’s okay.” Continues Mirio, talking over the tail end of Tamaki’s hushed words, babbling almost nonsensically. It’s as if what Tamaki has just spoken hasn’t yet reached his ears. As he continues, Mirio’s eyes jump from one object to another, his hands emphatic. It’s as if he’s unable to stop his momentum as he fumbles on. “You don’t have to agree to anything just for me. I don’t want you to feel pressured into saying something you don’t mean. If you don’t like me that way, or aren’t sure yet, that’s okay. I wouldn’t want to force you into-”
“-Mirio!” Cuts in Tamaki, his voice cracking overtop of Mirio’s unnecessary babbling reassurances. “I think I’m in love with you.” Feels cracks splinter their way through solid pillars.
Eyes wide, Mirio’s gaze is now glued onto Tamaki’s, his hands limp by his sides and motionless. After a moment of labored breathing, Tamaki belatedly realizes their both panting heavily into the quiet room, chests heaving in tandem as they stand face-to-face, otherwise still on hardwood floors that creek beneath the weight of their feet.
The space between them is filled by endless miles and insignificant inches, a monumental distance that feels both untraversable and non-existent in the same breadth.
“You’re in love with me?” Mirio parrots back, expression blank as he blinks back at Tamaki in apparent shock.
Tamaki can’t fathom how this could be such a surprise to the other teen, all the while these feelings have been circling around Tamaki’s every conscious thought so obviously as of late. Every actions he’s taken, every word he’s said, it felt to him as though they were broadcasting his inner thoughts like beacons against the darkness, unmistakeable in their intentions, whether those were purposeful or not.
“Yes,” Tamaki answers, closes his eyes against the pressure building behind them. Continues, “I think I’ve been falling in love with you since the first moment I met you.”
He stops, swallows thickly, feels tears prickle at the corners of his eyes and squeezes them even tighter shut. “I’ve always been in love with you, Mirio. How could I not be? But that shouldn’t matter, because I’m not- not-”
His voice catches on a sob trapped in his throat, winces at the sound his voice makes as its ripped from his chest. It hurts. He’s not sure he can say it all out loud, speak the words of everything that’s been weighing so heavily on his mind and deeply in his heart.
“I’m not-” He tries again, lip quivering uncontrollably. All he wants to do is find a way to stop this shivering, to stop his breath from hitching like it is, to stop reacting in this way that he has no control over, but he can’t seem to find a way to do it.
Instead, weathered hands make contact and jolt him from his stupor. Pads of fingertips brush along his arms lightly, yet teatheringly. He can sense strong arms encompassing his fragile and shakeable frame even if he can’t physically feel them touching him. Tries to steady his breath as he opens his eyes to see a broad chest, much closer than it had been before, and slowly raises his head, angling it to meet an unmistakable chin, a concerned frown, and soft eyes that implore from where they hover above him.
“You’re not what?” Mirio asks, his voice soft and warm like a fuzzy blanket wrapped around a chilled body, shielding off the cold of a frigid night.
And Tamaki hadn’t notice the moment when Mirio had moved, but it doesn’t really matter, because suddenly he’s right there in front of him, beside him, all around him. Warm, and surrounding, and comforting, and somehow that makes all the difference.
“I’m not good enough for you.” Tamaki whispers into the crook of Mirio’s neck. Sees soft skin shadowed by slight stubble pull as his adam’s apple bobs.
“I mean, you’re incredible, Mirio-kun. You’re more brilliant than the sun.” Tamaki continues, eyes never raising from the view over Mirio’s shoulder where he’s subconsciously tucked himself in, unable to look up as he lays bare the truths that have been haunting him for what feels like forever. “And, I’m just… Me.”
There’s more, of course there’s more to it than just that. But Tamaki’s not sure he’ll be able to survive voicing every one of his insecurities, or self-doubts over those aforementioned insecurities, out loud in such a way, even here. They swirl and tangle in his mind, almost unmanageable and overwhelmingly ominous, but he holds onto them tightly. He’s feeling so vulnerable already, stripped bare and falling.
But strong arms reach out and catch him, and his head is dizzy, and his mind is reeling. His reflexes are moving in slow motion, so much so that it takes him a few moments for his brain to catch up and perceive what’s going on as his body moves on instinct alone.
A warm hand is cupping his head, and there’s a thumb rubbing against his cheek, opening his lips and he hears a gasp. He’s unsure which of the two of them made the sound, but in the end, it doesn’t really matter. Soon after a warm mouth is pressing against his own, and chapped lips are kissing his and he’s kissing back, with the feeling of hot breath on his face and a heart racing in his chest.
And in the next moment those heated lips are wrenched from his, and he’s staring wide eyed, breathing labored, into Mirio’s serious expression. It takes him a second to realize the other teen is holding onto Tamaki’s head in his hands, fingers and palms cradling, yet firm as they grip onto him from his jaw to his temples. Another, for him to lift his eyes from those swollen and tender lips before him to meet Mirio’s fixed gaze that stares back at him in earnest.
“Tamaki-kun,” murmurs Mirio, his breathing harsh as he pants in tandem with the rise and fall of his heaving chest. Tone grave and eyes relentless as they stare down, right through to Tamaki’s core. “You’re good enough. You’re more than good enough! You’re amazing, Tamaki-kun, and remarkable, and breathtaking.
“You’re like a solar eclipse - extraordinary, and so spectacular that you block out everything else around you so that you’re the brightest light in the room, unignorable. You’re stunning, and intelligent, and so resilient that I can’t think of anyone more incredible than you!
“I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. Impressed with you for even longer.” Mirio murmurs, moving in to press a quick peck to Tamaki’s temple, averting his eyes as Tamaki remains frozen in shock. “You’re so incredible that sometimes I find it hard to believe you like me at all. That’s why I find it so hard to grasp that you could feel that way about me.
“After last night I figured that you had to like me at least a little, but then you ran away from me today in the hallway and I didn’t know what to believe anymore.” Here dark eyes search Tamaki’s own, and Mirio’s expression grows softer in the light of the setting sun. “But I think I’m starting to understand.”
They're standing so close together, legs and arms entangled. Tamaki’s not quite sure how they got to be in this position, but their noses are touching and their lips are only a hair’s breadth away from one another’s. Mirio’s gaze is searing from this close of a distance, and Tamaki’s not sure if he wants to burst into tears or laughter, perhaps both at once. He stands stock still, barely breathing, hardly blinking, as he stares back into the eyes of the teen before him.
“So if you’re saying that you don’t think you’re good enough for me, or that I deserve better, then I’m here to tell you that that’s entirely untrue, and that I’m already so completely and utterly in love with you.”
This time, he’s not sure which one of the two of them leans in first, it may have been both of them, but suddenly they’re kissing again, and it’s both messy and meticulous, sloppy and precise, as they move together, breath together. Their mouths are pressing close as their fingers pull and tug on anything they can reach. The slight hesitation in their movements, in the space between them, is gone in favor of the way their bodies slot together.
“I mean, if anything, it should be the opposite.” Whispers Mirio against his lips. Tamaki feels the huff of hot breath ghost across sensitive skin and he shivers in response. Blinks his eyes open.
“What does that mean?” Tamaki asks, voice soft, eyes searching as he looks up at Mirio.
He doesn’t understand why, but it must be the wrong thing to say. Because it causes Mirio to take two steps backwards, distancing himself from Tamaki, a hand rubbing along the back of his neck, with a booming and self-deprecating laugh bubbling up from his chest.
The abrupt loud noise breaks the fragile silence that had descended over the small room surrounding them, and Tamaki jumps in surprise at the unexpected sound.
His fingers twitch in want to reach out to the blond teen, to close the small divide that has become a canyon between them in such a short time. But in the end, Tamaki restrains himself. He doesn’t think Mirio wants to be touched right now. Knows that whatever this is, it’s hard for Mirio to do, to say. That it’s making the other teen feel vulnerable in a way that Tamaki’s not sure he’s ever seen his friend show before.
Mirio is always boisterous and exuberantly filled with confidence, not like this, so shakeable against the waning light of the late sunset. He opens his mouth and it’s as if a dam has broken within him, because the words begin to flow from him unrestrained, messy and disorganized, falling out in quick succession, almost over top of one and other. It’s all Tamaki can do to stand there, his knees wobbling, his heart pounding as he listens to everything he never would have imagined hearing coming from the mouth of the teen standing in front of him.
“It means that I’m worried I’m not this amazing hero that everyone thinks I am, and I’m constantly scared that you’re going to wake up one morning and realize that. See that I’m so far behind you. I’m not impressive at all, not compared to you, or Hadou-chan, or anyone else for that matter. You two are so talented. I shouldn’t even be in the same ranking as you two.
“I’m terrified that you’re going to figure out that I’m still just that silly kid who you met in elementary school. Who isn’t smart enough to even understand his own quirk, barely strong enough to ever hope of controlling it.
“You’ll realize that it’s all just been luck that’s gotten me here. You’ll see how I’ve somehow tricked you all into believing I’m as incredible as you say I am. That I’m not really worth all the hype, and then you’ll be done with me.” He finishes, his eyes wide, chest panting. As he looks back at Tamaki, the anxious teen realizes there’s a vulnerability flashing in those dark eyes that Tamaki had never taken notice of before. His heart aches in answer.
“Mirio-kun,” he practically begs, taking a step forward, reaching out an open palm automatically before stopping himself and coming up just shy of touching the other like he yearns to do. “None of that is true... You know that it’s not true! You’ve worked so hard to get where you are, you’ve improved so much despite everything. You’re the most impressive person I know because of your sheer resilience.”
Mirio blinks back at him, seemingly unable to speak. He opens and closes his mouth without uttering a sound. Tamaki barrels on.
“In elementary school, and junior high school, they couldn’t see how amazing you were. But, you’ve proven them all wrong, Mirio-kun. You’ve become the hero I always knew you could be.” Tamaki hushes, finally moving to break the distance between them and place a hand on Mirio’s chest, curls his fingers into the cotton that bunches under his unrelenting grasp.
“But, everything that happened yesterday is proof, isn’t it? I couldn’t save that girl, that little girl. She was just a child, and I’m supposed to be the next #1 Pro Hero, and I couldn’t even be there for her when she needed me.” Mirio argues.
“Mirio-kun, what happened to the that child was tragic, but it’s not your fault. You were there with a whole team of pro heroes and no one was able to rescue her.” Tamaki consoles, tentatively rubbing a hand up and down Mirio’s arm as he cowers away, eyes downcast in apparent shame. “But you are a hero Mirio-kun. You save people every day just with your persistence and determination, your optimism. You show people there’s someone out there willing to do whatever it takes to protect them.
“I know, because you do that for me.” He says, voice wavering. Mirio’s head lifts slowly as he meets Tamaki’s eyes, and Tamaki sees anguish, disbelief, shock, and just maybe a slight hesitant willingness to accept these truths spoken to him.
“You haven’t become so incredible to me because of the feats you’ve accomplished.” Tamaki says, heart pounding loudly in his ears. “You’ve been my hero since the first day I met you, when you came and found me.
“My life was plain and boring before I met you, Mirio-kun. But you called out to me, and you changed everything.”
The tears finally burst from their confines and fall from Tamaki’s eyes, salt tracks traced down and over his cheeks as he continuously clings to the material of Mirio’s shirt - the only thing grounding him in this moment.
That is, until large hands come to wrap themselves around him, and he’s enveloped by warm, strong arms in a tight hold. “Nothing about you could ever be plain or boring, Tamaki-kun.”
The words are whispered softly into his ear, and Mirio is resting his forehead against Tamaki’s own, and they stay like that for as long as they possibly can, their breathing beginning to sync together and gradually lessen in intensity. Eventually, after what feels like an eternity, Mirio speaks quietly.
“When Hadou-chan and I started fake-dating, I thought that would make things better, take my mind off of my worries. But, if anything, it just made everything else worse, because now I had proof that I was faking things, pretending to be something I’m not... I mean, if I could fake dating, couldn’t I be really just faking everything else?”
“But you’re not faking everything else, Mirio-kun. You’ve earned everything you have.”
“Then you ran away today, and I thought you had figured it out, figured me out, and that’s why you had left.”
“There’s nothing for me to figure out about you, Mirio-kun.” Persists Tamaki, shaking his head against Mirio’s, their gazes locked. “I ran away because I- I was scared. I didn’t realize how you felt about me… I thought you were in love with Nejire-chan.”
“Nejire?” Repeats Mirio, his forehead scrunched in a frown. “But, that was all fake.” Tamaki just shakes his head in reply.
“Don’t worry,” he explains, a slight self-deprecating chuckle coloring his tone. “She set me straight.”
Tamaki shuts his eyes for a long moment, opens them up slowly to meet Mirio’s searching gaze.
“I just find it so hard to believe that I deserve you.” Tamaki admits, feels his chest tighten almost painfully at the admission.
“I can understand that.” Mirio murmurs back, pauses, and then adds, “I think this is something we’re going to have to work on to get better at.”
Tamaki lets out a slight huff of laughter in reply, nodding his agreement. He realizes that even this may be another one of the many things that Mirio can help him with, as long as Tamaki’s willing to also help himself along the way.
“Together?” He asks.
“Together.” Agrees Mirio.
-x-
It’s much later when everything begins to catch up with them. They’ve been kissing for longer then Tamaki can remember. Everything around them, their actions, their fleetingly whispered words are a hazy jumble as thoughts drift aimlessly through his calm, languid mind. The past few hours are a blur of movement and touch and heat that leave Tamaki loose and warm and pliant.
Tamaki’s not sure what time it is, how much time has even passed since everything took place. All he knows is that it’s been long enough for the sun to fully set and the moon to rise into the inky black night sky, joined by stars what twinkle and shimmer in the distance. He catches a glimpse of the large orb, almost definitely a full moon, as it hangs there and lights up the darkness of his dorm room with its pale glow through the filterings of his thin window curtains.
From where he’s perched on Mirio’s lap, he can see it brightly, and though it may not burn as obviously as the sun, it still seems to offer warmth and light from its perch among the stars, and that thought brings a quirked smile to his lips. The blueish light that it casts illuminates the crown of Mirio’s head like a halo, and Tamaki can only describe the sight as ethereal. It’s hard to believe this is all really happening.
Mirio’s palms are pressing into his sides, and his strong arms are wrapped tightly around Tamaki’s waist to keep him steady. Tamaki feels almost giddy at the sensations of Mirio’s tough skin under the pads of his fingers, the feel of each individual strand of his blond hair as they slide through his grip, the heat that comes from Mirio’s mouth as his kiss-swollen lips move, bite and press together against Tamaki’s own.
The telltale quirk at the corner of Mirio’s mouth is all the warning Tamaki gets as those large hands move to press down on his hips, pushing them down to meet with Mirio’s in a sensual grind that leaves Tamaki breathless and Mirio panting heavily in his ear, breath hot against already heated skin.
“You’ve got a one track mind.” Tamaki mutters into the soft skin below Mirio’s ear, his hands coming around to grip onto the teen’s broad shoulders to help steady himself against the change in their position.
Mirio huffs in reply, and the sound is rather breathless, uncontrolled. “It’s hard not to when I get to see you everyday.”
The honest confession makes an embarrassed blush rise along Tamaki’s skin from his chest all the way up to the tips of his ears, leaving him feeling hot and squirmish underneath. “Don’t-”
“Don’t what?” Mirio asks, eyes wide and dark as they look back at Tamaki inquiringly. They’re hooded, but if anything that only works to increase their intensity, and they gaze back at Tamaki, piercing a gaping hole right through his walls of defense.
“Don’t say things like that.” Replies Tamaki, a hand coming up to cover his face and hide the reddening of his cheeks from Mirio. He can’t help the way those words make him feel on the spot, under a spotlight, and he cowers away from the sensations of that harsh brightness bearing down on him.
“If this entire situation has taught me anything, it’s that I should be saying things like that more.” Mirio argues softly, a hand coming up to pry Tamaki’s away to uncover his face. The glaring light becomes softer at the touch, now a dim glow that surrounds the two of them in their own corner of the universe. A gentle kiss is pressed to his lips as Mirio’s eyes flutter closed. “Maybe then you’ll realize how crazy I am about you.”
Tamaki pulls back from the kiss to regard Mirio searchingly. Mirio blinks back, still and calm as he waits for Tamaki to find what he’s looking for, patient and understanding as ever.
“Maybe,” Tamaki starts furtively, biting his bottom lip and worrying the tender skin between his teeth. “Maybe that would be okay, then.”
“Really?” Asks Mirio, straightening up in slight surprise at that admission. Tamaki can only nod in return. Watches as Mirio’s face breaks into a gentle smile. “Well, alright then.”
He says the last bit as he moves in to initiate another slow, searching kiss, one which lasts until neither of them have any air left in their lungs to breath from.
“But how are you going to prove to me how much you like me, huh?” Goads Mirio, a playful lilt to his questioning tone. “This is an equal partnership after all.”
The almost mischievous twinkle in Mirio’s eye, the wicked crook to his grin, the look of his tousled hair in the moonlight, it's the sight of all those things combined that is somehow enough to ignite a flame in Tamaki’s soul. A sense of headstrong confidence washes over him unexpectedly, and it causes him to place both his hands decisively on Mirio’s shoulders and push the other teen down until his back meets the firm mattress beneath them.
The look of pure and unadulterated shock that flashes across Mirio’s face is soon replaced by something more intimate as Tamaki follows the other teen down, meeting him halfway in the space between their bodies with a demanding kiss.
Mirio meets him action for action, in intensity and unfiltered want, a silent agreement to whatever Tamaki is asking of him. Just to make sure, Tamaki pulls away for a moment, hands stilling as his eyes implore for a confirmation from Mirio that is quickly given in the form of an emphatic nod of his blond head. With that permission granted, Tamaki finds himself pushing them further over the edge of that precipice they had found themselves balancing precariously over only the night before, fueled by desire and want and trust.
His hands find their way to Mirio’s obnoxious belt buckle, making quick work of undoing the clasp and sliding the leather out of its confines. Next comes the zipper, and, with slight adjustment from Mirio’s hips, the rest of his pants and underwear are removed unceremoniously. Tamaki follows his hands as they slide the garments off around Mirio’s heels, stumbling back on his own feet to greet the cool floor of his bedroom, eyes never leaving Mirio’s.
His fingers shake slightly as he undoes his own fly, letting his pants slide down his legs to bunch around his ankles before stepping out of them and leaving them in a pile on the ground. He’s bare from the waist down, and it feels slightly exposing, but not necessarily in a bad way. He feels tingles crawl up his naked skin as he sees Mirio on the mattress, having propped himself up on his elbows, watching as Tamaki makes his way back to the bed, gaze dark and heavy.
It only takes two steps for Tamaki to be back in Mirio’s lap, his legs hooked around his hips, knees encasing both sides of his waist as he looks down at the teen laid out beneath him. Laying his hands on Mirio’s chest, he hovers slightly above the other teen, almost making contact, but not fully, not yet. His heart beats frantically in anticipation, feels the same thumping coming from Mirio’s chest beneath his splayed finger tips. He can feel as Mirio’s ribs expand and contract with his deep breaths, lets the rhythm of that motion steady himself as he lowers down to meet Mirio’s hips, bare flesh against flesh.
The movement causes Tamaki’s breath to hitch and his neck to tilt back in response to the sensation of his length sliding against Mirio’s. Thick calloused fingers press into the flesh of his hips, and he can’t help but close his eyes at the sensations that crash over him as they begin to move together in an unsteady rhythm that quickly picks up speed.
When he opens them, its to find Mirio looking back at him, vulnerable and defenseless beneath him. Splayed out in a tousled mess against cotton sheets, hands gripping onto Tamaki as if he’s the only thing tethering him to the surface of the earth.
“Oh,” Tamaki gasps, the sound escaping him before he can even think to reel it in. Feels sensations bubbling up around him, building with an impending momentum that bursting all together abruptly as he finds release atop Mirio.
His hands slip from their hold on Mirio’s shoulders to land on the mattress beneath them, his head hands down, mouth open as he gulps in air and waits for his heart to decide it has finish its marathon and begin to slow down its racing pace. Mirio follows him only a moment later, arms coming up to lock around Tamaki’s shoulders, pulling him flush against his chest, as he pants out a breathless call for Tamaki right into his pointy ear.
They’re both too breathless to kiss after everything that's just happened, and yet, they somehow find themselves tangled together, doing just that after only a moment's pause anyways.
A shyness begins to creep its way under Tamaki’s skin as their actions grow more heated and Mirio moves a leg between his own. He can’t help but turn away slightly, muttering a quiet, “um, just one sec,” before sliding off the bed to grab his boxers and tossing Mirio’s own back to the other teen with only a furtive glance his way.
It’s not that Tamaki doesn’t want all of this, but it’s just a lot all at once, and these sensations are new and overwhelming even in smaller doses, too much to take in all at once. Fortunately, Mirio doesn’t seem to mind too much, because he complies with Tamaki’s wishes and sits up to slip the material on over himself without complaint or even comment.
Tamaki feels electrified beneath his skin, distracted by the thought of what they just did. On his way back to the bed, Mirio’s warm hands intercept him, strong arms coming to wrap around his waist as he’s tugged back onto Mirio’s lap. Mirio holds him tightly against his clothed chest, resting his chin on Tamaki’s shoulder as the anxious teen straddles his legs.
“That was amazing, Tamaki.” Mirio whispers, his voice slightly hoarse, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of Tamaki’s back and sides underneath his wrinkled shirt. “You’re amazing,” he emphasizes with a squeeze.
Tamaki slowly, tentatively, slides his arms around Mirio to mimic his hold, resting his forehead on Mirio’s muscled shoulder. “Yeah, we should- we should do that again, another, ah, time.” He murmurs into Mirio’s heated skin.
Mirio pulls back slowly, until they are face-to-face again, eyes never leaving Tamaki’s. “Do you really mean that?”
Tamaki’s eyes slide away from Mirio’s searching gaze, instead boring a hole into the center of Mirio’s chest. “Yes,” Tamaki admits, his breath rushing out of him as he voices his one word confession, heartbeat erratic as it pounds against his ribs. “I really… care about you, Mirio.”
Cautious fingers hook under Tamaki’s chin, drawing his gaze back up to meet Mirio’s open one. Mirio’s eyes are bottomless in their depth, and his expression is serious and determined. In comparison to his usual buoyancy, it might be seen as almost uncharacteristic, but this is Mirio, and Tamaki knows better than anyone else how earnestly resolute he can be. It reminds Tamaki of the look Mirio got when he first told Tamaki he had been offered an internship with the Sir Nighteye, the first time he demonstrated to Tamaki his triumph at having mastered his quirk enough to properly phase through a wall without getting stuck - a rare, but treasured sight.
“I really care about you too, Tamaki.”
In the next moment Mirio’s soft lips are on Tamaki’s, and they’re kissing unhurriedly. Mirio scoots on the bed until their lying down facing each other, their arms and legs wrapped around each other with only a small gap between their breaths as they rest their heads together on Tamaki’s pillow.
“There honestly isn’t that much space on these beds... Not really enough room for the both of us.” Whispers Tamaki, limbs heavy, warmth buzzing over his skin like electricity. “Are you sure you… want to stay?” Even though he's given Mirio the option for a way out, his fingers move to link together behind the teen's neck, an unconscious motion that gives away his want for exactly the opposite outcome after all this.
Mirio squeezes him tighter, humming softly. He lets his eyes fall shut and burrows his head into Tamaki’s pillow pointedly. “Guess we’ll just have to make due with the limited space we have.”
Tamaki’s eyes stay open, watching Mirio anxiously as the other teen breaths deep and low, breath ghosting across Tamaki’s skin. He wants to stay calm, to not be fazed by this, to take Mirio’s confession at face value and let it rest, but his nerves are rearing their ugly head, and he’s suddenly wracked with the worry that Mirio doesn’t actually mean what he says. That he’s only saying so to placate Tamaki’s worries. That he doesn’t actually want to be here with the anxious teen, that he’d rather be anywhere else.
“Go to sleep, Tamaki-kun.” Murmurs Mirio, eyes still closed, breathing even. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Sorry,” he can’t help but reply, feeling guilty in the darkness of the room and the proximity of their bodies.
Dark eyes open to blink back at him in the darkness. “We’re in this together, remember?” Mirio reassures, reaching his hand out to entangle his fingers with Tamaki’s under the covers. Squeezes them.
“Yeah, okay.”
Tamaki lets out a gust of air he hadn’t realized he had been holding in his lungs, sighing vehemently. He tries to push away those fears, instead focusing on the warmth surrounding him from Mirio’s heated skin. He forcibly shuts his eyes, and tries to slow down the pace of his breathing by matching it to Mirio’s inhales and exhales.
Within minutes he’s fast asleep.
-x-