They’re lying on their backs in the grass outside Kirara’s shrine. It’s a warm night for fall, and the stars are bright in the black sky.
“Look,” Kirara says, “I think I see one, up there—” He casts a finger up toward a green light streaking through the night.
Shinoda whips his head up to look. “Oh, where?” His profile catches the light of the lantern, the light swaying as his eyes dart across the sky. He really is cute, Kirara thinks. Obsession with UFOs and all.
Kirara takes the opportunity to slip his hand closer to Shinoda’s own. The distance isn’t so far, but it feels like eons slip away before he makes it. He feels the blades of grass shift, then a tingle like a star shooting from his hand to his heart when his fingertips meet Shinoda’s
Honestly, he’d surprised himself when he asked Shinoda to go out, apropos of nothing. He can’t blame Shinoda for thinking it was a joke, when they didn’t know each other at all. But at the time, he felt shocked that a guy who gave off such a sparkling aura had no idea how charming he seemed. It was as though every one of his movements carried this unaffected, dreamy vibe. Kirara had known instantly that he wanted to know him, just from the way he walked or ran or swept the steps of the school.
"Where is it? I don’t see it.” Shinoda cranes his head back to look.
"Well you know UFOs, gone in a flash," Kirara says.
“Kirara, are you sure—” Shinoda whips his head around, only to find Kirara’s face close to his. “Whoa, sorry—”
“Ah, no, you’re fine,” Kirara says, “I mean, if you’re fine with it that is—”
Kirara sees Shinoda’s flustered face looking down, blushing, looking up. “Is this okay?” he asks. He skims a hand along Shinoda’s pale hair, traces gently the line of his slim and lovely jaw. Ultimately he doesn't regret blurting out his feelings that first time, if it's led him to be this close to Shinoda. To be standing here in this moment, unassuming. Breathing. Hoping. Of course he wants Shinoda to accept his feelings. Of course it’s better to be sure this time. He needs to know so badly, after all.
“Um, yes,” Shinoda mumbles, “you’re really serious about this, aren’t you Kirara,” but he’s already leaning breathless into Kirara’s touch, kissing him like he’s more mysterious than any alien in the exosphere.
Kissing Shinoda's like a rain of shooting stars ripping through Kirara’s veins and exploding behind his eyes. Shinoda's pulling him into the kiss, his back to the ground. His hands are in the grass, then fisted in Shinoda's shirt, then holding him tight. His heart is racing, Shinoda is sparkling bright in the twilight. This is better than the supernatural: this is all he needs.