Categories > Anime/Manga > I'll CKBC Generation Basket
Lost+Found
0 reviewsAkaHito. The boys meet up. They might get lost, but they'll always be on the same path.
0Unrated
He was nervous. His palms were sweaty. There were butterflies in his stomach. He had thought that a bookstore would be a good way to not meet anyone they knew, but it also meant that he kept getting dirty looks from the staff as he stood in the corner of the Wester Classics section. He was starting to have second doubts and kept checking his watch and he didn't like!
He should have gone with his first choice, Red Barns, he should have given him directions, what if he was late? What if he didn't come at all? What if the shop's clerk kicked him out before he arrive?
And there wer a few more moments of tense anxiety, and of course it was when he turned his back to the replace a book on the shelves that had looked thin but turned out to be anything but when pale, muscled arms wrapped around his wasist and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He was released as quickly as he had been taken into, and when he turned around his shoulders slumped shakiy with relief.
"I couldn't believe you said the bookstore after you hung up, I was sure I heard you wrong."
"Yeah, well..."
The waiting teenager scratched the back of his head with an act of nonshalonce that was ruined by the sheepish, hopeful look on his face.
He was saved from having to explain his rational by the decent of soft lips into his personal space. They melted together for a long moment, pressing everything into one before retreating slowly, detangeling fingers and legs that had somehow got caught in one another.
They both laughed a little, relief at not having lost "it", as they called their muddled relationship. If one had heard them on the phone talking about it, one would have thought that they were talking about an unruly, clingy, shared pet.
"Let's go for a walk," said the one who had been waiting, nervious and tired of the judgemental titles in stark English print staring down at them. The one still in school uniform, tie loosesned, sleevs rolled, and shirt untucked agreed with a nod and a small smile.
They were headed in no direction in particular and picked streets at crossrodes with rock-paper-sissors. Their laughter scared the birds from the trees, sometimes, and sometimes they'd end up scuffling in the grass beside the road., a wiggling mass of boy-flesh. Even if some punches landed, one of the other gave in (it didn't matter which) and pressed their lips and groins together despite the blood and bruises.
They were desperately lost, but happy that way.
He should have gone with his first choice, Red Barns, he should have given him directions, what if he was late? What if he didn't come at all? What if the shop's clerk kicked him out before he arrive?
And there wer a few more moments of tense anxiety, and of course it was when he turned his back to the replace a book on the shelves that had looked thin but turned out to be anything but when pale, muscled arms wrapped around his wasist and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He was released as quickly as he had been taken into, and when he turned around his shoulders slumped shakiy with relief.
"I couldn't believe you said the bookstore after you hung up, I was sure I heard you wrong."
"Yeah, well..."
The waiting teenager scratched the back of his head with an act of nonshalonce that was ruined by the sheepish, hopeful look on his face.
He was saved from having to explain his rational by the decent of soft lips into his personal space. They melted together for a long moment, pressing everything into one before retreating slowly, detangeling fingers and legs that had somehow got caught in one another.
They both laughed a little, relief at not having lost "it", as they called their muddled relationship. If one had heard them on the phone talking about it, one would have thought that they were talking about an unruly, clingy, shared pet.
"Let's go for a walk," said the one who had been waiting, nervious and tired of the judgemental titles in stark English print staring down at them. The one still in school uniform, tie loosesned, sleevs rolled, and shirt untucked agreed with a nod and a small smile.
They were headed in no direction in particular and picked streets at crossrodes with rock-paper-sissors. Their laughter scared the birds from the trees, sometimes, and sometimes they'd end up scuffling in the grass beside the road., a wiggling mass of boy-flesh. Even if some punches landed, one of the other gave in (it didn't matter which) and pressed their lips and groins together despite the blood and bruises.
They were desperately lost, but happy that way.
Sign up to rate and review this story