Tamaki is sitting at the edge of the bed, legs pressed together, hands tightly clasped in his lap. His cheeks are flushed, and his breathing is uneven, as if his body can’t decide between panic and anticipation. He had said yes. Yes to being with you like this. Yes to sharing something beyond the nervous kisses that used to leave him breathless.

But Tamaki can’t stop thinking about what Kirishima had said. Or Kaminari’s poorly disguised laugh when he tried to ask ‘how it’s done’. Even Mirio had tried to explain it with brotherly patience, though Tamaki couldn’t retain half of it because of the embarrassment. And now that you’re there, on top of him, looking at him that way… Tamaki feels like none of that helped. Because no one had told him he would be the one on the bottom.

Tamaki can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut tightly as you get a little closer. He shrinks slightly, as if not knowing what to do with your closeness, but he doesn’t pull away. One of his hands clings to the sheets, and the other shakes as it reaches for yours.