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They’re in Tobio’s room. Neither boy had anywhere to be after practice; it's a Saturday evening, so they'd ended up crashing in Tobio's room afterwards, lounging around on his bed in their still-sweaty jerseys. Tobio doesn't say anything about them changing; Akira thinks that they're kind of disgusting, but Tobio waves it off and says it's fine, that he's "too tired to change, anyway."
Akira tells him it’s a date. Tobio thinks it is not a very date-y thing, this; they're not wearing anything nice, they're not anywhere romantic (is there anything remotely romantic about a thirteen year old boy's bedroom? He doubts it) but Akira assures him that a date is basically when they spend time together, so wherever is okay.
"Um, Kunimi?" Tobio rolls over to lie on his stomach and looks at his boyfriend of two weeks, raised feet lazily kicking in the air.
"What, Kageyama?" Akira raises an eyebrow at him. He's lying on his back, and he only barely turns his head to regard him.
"Couples kiss, don’t they?"
Akira’s heart stops a little, and instantly becomes more alert. That is true, he thinks, but they haven’t kissed once.
"Yeah." Akira agrees, sitting up a little now.
"Do you—" Tobio begins, but his lips close and he averts his gaze to the sheets beneath them instead, as if he could zoom in the minute woven threads and verify the thread count.
"—want to kiss?" Akira finishes for him. It's not hard to deduce what Tobio would have said; Tobio is straightforward and to the point and easy to read.
Tobio’s face instantly resembles the color of a ripe tomato, and Akira knows the just hit jackpot. Akira can’t help but laugh.
Tobio grumbles. He grabs his pillow and proceeds to do this thing Akira can only describe as "faceplanting", because Tobio just-- well, planted his face so ferociously into the soft downy object. Akira only laughs harder.
"Wh-what are you laughing at!?"
"Nothing." Akira breathes out later when his laughter fades.
Later, when Tobio is no longer sulking and ignoring him ("Sorry, you were priceless." "..." "I said I was sorry." "...Fine.") Akira looks into his eyes and murmurs, quietly:
"Wanna try kissing?"
Tobio's reply comes surprisingly fast.
"Y-yeah." Tobio screws his eyes shut and puckers his lips.
"Not like that." Akira murmurs. "People don’t do it like that. They relax their lips, and tilt their head, and…"
Akira moves in, and their lips touch.
It's nothing like the books or the movies; there were no sparks, no fireworks; no fanfare, no celebration. In that time there is only them; two teenage boys on a bed, in jerseys they still have not changed out of, lip-locking in what probably is up there on the "awkward kissing position" list.
Nevertheless, both boys are red in the face; Tobio is looking at anywhere but Akira, and Akira coughs once.
"Well. Now we've kissed." he murmurs. "How was that?"
"I don't know if that's supposed to be good. I've only ever kissed you." Tobio points out, pouting a little. Then:
"I liked it, though."
"We can do that again. If you'd like."
Tobio smiles, nods, and they go in for another kiss.
(Akira thinks if the sun died out right now, Tobio's smile would still be enough to light up his world.)