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“Practice?”
Shouto’s eyes veer upward until they lock onto Momo’s, suddenly uncertain of his suggestion.
“Upon confessing, if things go well, you’d normally kiss the person you like” he clarifies, forehead creasing as his lips press into a thin line. “Kaminari said his first kiss went badly, and that he wished he would’ve practiced with a friend first. It got me thinking...”
“You want to confess to someone!”
Momo looks pleasantly surprised. Her eyes become brighter and her lips part slightly; her hands curl into fists against her chest. But despite how positive her reaction is, Shouto can’t help but feel a little guilty.
“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “It’s inappropriate to ask you for this.”
“I want to confess to someone, too,” she admits, throwing him a curveball. Shouto can’t, for the life of him, begin to think of who it might be—Satou? Jirou? Does Momo even like girls?
Is it... Bakugou?
No, it can’t be. That would pose a problem. For Shouto, specifically.
Momo clears her throat, and Shouto blinks as she voices, shyly, “Maybe it would prove beneficial for the two of us to practice before going through with our respective confessions.”
“Okay,” Shouto agrees, as though it hadn’t been his idea in the first place.
Lowering her hands, and with a determined nod, Momo steps forward confidently. But that confidence wanes the closer she gets. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as Shouto stands across from her stock-still. It’s only when he realizes that his lack of action is giving her cold feet that he tries to soothe her worries by meeting her halfway.
They stand nearly chest to chest, and Shouto can feel his heart beating in his skull at the thought of, well, kissing anybody.
“This is my first kiss,” he blurts out.
The silence that follows is different from usual. Normally, he and Momo can spend hours together in relative silence with little worry, but the tension that’s risen after he’d opened his mouth feels almost stuffy.
Shouto’s cheeks warm. I’ve... ruined the moment.
“It’s my first kiss, too,” Momo says shortly after, looking as pink as Shouto feels. “But I’m glad that it’s you I’ve chosen to share it with. You are my best friend, after all. I’d rather have this memory be with someone I trust than someone I’m unsure will even be in my life after we’ve graduated.”
She has a point, Shouto thinks—one that gives him peace of mind. And suddenly, he’s not so worried about it anymore. Lips curling, he smiles gently, completely at ease when she returns the favor.
Slowly, Shouto leans in.
Momo, picking up on his cues, follows him forward. Without delay, their lips meet, soft and dry.
It’s a balmy touch, Shouto notes. A warm one. In the pleasant, gardenia-scented atmosphere of Momo’s bedroom. It’s gentle and tender and overall nice, and when they pull away, he thinks he better understands the appeal.
If this is how it feels to kiss a friend, then kissing the person he likes must be even better.
Shouto hums thoughtfully. He’s looking forward to that.
Before him, Momo stands quietly, a pensive look on her face.
“Was that correct?” she asks, knuckle and thumb curling under her chin.
“I don’t think it was incorrect,” Shouto answers. “Our lips touched.”
“Is that all there is to it?”
“I...” Brows knitting at the question, he frowns. “I think so.”
Momo’s expression mimics his own; beaten brows and pursed lips. Silence surrounds them for a long while. And then, as if readying for one of their daily training exercises, she meets Shouto’s eye with a pumped look on her face.
“Again?” she asks, resolute.
Shouto is moved by her tenacity.
“Again.”