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“Never?” Keefe stares at Fitz incredulously. “You've never kissed a girl?”
They're sitting cross-legged on Fitz's bed together.
“You don't have to say it like that. I just‐- haven't had the chance.”
“But you're attractive. You're probably the hottest guy at our university. Well, second hottest. Not everyone can be as devastatingly handsome as the Keefester, of course”--he wiggles his eyebrows and then ducks to dodge the pillow that Fitz throws at him--” but every girl in the school is falling over themselves to get your attention. You could kiss any of them.”
Fitz shrugs uncomfortably. “I've been too busy with my studies for dating.”
The words come automatically. It's the same excuse he uses every time Biana teases him about his admirers, or his parents ask him if he has a special someone at his school, or girls ask him out.
In truth, he doesn't know why he's never wanted to kiss a girl. He just…hasn't.
He's tried to want it. He even came close once, with Sophie, but they were interrupted by an urgent call from her adoptive parents' horse farm, and she rushed off with hardly another word. He knew he should've been disappointed‐‐he'd thought that that was supposed to be what he wanted--but all he had felt was relief.
“Besides, have you kissed a girl?” Fitz challenges. “My sister doesn't count.”
Keefe shrugs. “Plenty.”
“Oh.” Fitz doesn't know why that sends a sour, uncomfortable feeling twisting through his stomach.
He pushes the feeling aside. “I don't know how to kiss someone anyway.”
“It's easy,” Keefe says. “It comes naturally once you try. I bet you'd be a good kisser.”
Fitz tries to imagine kissing any of the girls in his classes, but he can't. It just sounds strange.
Keefe smirks. “Maybe you just need practice.”
He holds up his stuffed--actually, Fitz isn't quite sure exactly what kind of animal Keefe's bright green plushie is meant to be--and makes ridiculous smooching noises. “Pucker up, Fitzypoo.”
Fitz groans and pushes the stuffed animal away. “I'm not kissing Mrs. Stinkbottom.”
Keefe continues to wave the toy in his face and make kissing noises.
Fitz tries to grab the toy from him, but Keefe holds it out of his reach, so Fitz tackles him, and they wrestle for control of the plush. Fitz is stronger, though, and before long, he has Keefe pinned to his bed, faces inches apart.
Even defeated, Keefe's ice blue eyes sparkle with glee. He's out of breath from wrestling, and Fitz notices that a curl has fallen out of place onto his forehead.
And with Keefe's lips only inches from his, if Fitz just leaned down…
Maybe the talking of kissing has gotten in Fitz's head. Maybe anyone would have the thought after a conversation like that. But suddenly, all Fitz can think of is leaning down and pressing his lips against Keefe's.
He stares down at Keefe for too long, shocked at the desire. Keefe takes advantage of his hesitation to snatch Mrs. Stinkbottom back and smush the stuffed toy in his face.
That pulls Fitz back to reality, and he rolls off Keefe. All he can do is stare at the ceiling in silence as Keefe laughs beside him.
Soon, though, Keefe goes silent as well. He's quiet for a while--almost an uncharacteristic length of time for him. When Fitz looks over at him, Keefe is looking at him.
“What?” Fitz asks.
“Nothing,” Keefe says quickly. He looks away as if he's done something wrong.
They fall back into silence again.
Keefe is the one to break it. “Maybe you do need practice,” he says suddenly.
“I don't think kissing Mrs. Stinkbottom is going to prepare me for kissing a girl.”
“What about me?”
Fitz looks over at him, expecting to see laughter in Keefe's eyes again, but there isn't a hint of it in his ice blue gaze, and Fitz's stomach explodes in butterflies.
Surely he doesn't mean--
“I'm a good kisser,” Keefe says. “I could--demonstrate. If you wanted.”
Fitz sits up. “Are you serious?”
Keefe shrugs as if it's no big deal. “Sure. You're my best friend. We're always there for one another. You helped me with calculus last term, remember?”
“That's not even remotely the same thing.”
Keefe looks down. “Yeah. Sorry. It was a stupid idea.” He laughs, but his fingers are clenched too tightly around Mrs. Stinkbottom. “I just thought it might help.”
“I don't mean that it's a bad idea.”
At the moment, actually, it sounds like a very good idea to Fitz. Maybe more than it should.
Keefe goes still. “Really? Then do you…want to try it?”
Fitz knows it's a ridiculous idea, but the more he thinks about it, the harder it is to find a reason why. After all, he does need to learn how to kiss.
And he really, really wants to kiss Keefe.
“Okay,” Fitz whispers.
“Great!” Keefe clears his throat. “I mean‐-okay. Now?”
Fitz does his best to shrug as nonchalantly as Keefe did. He hopes Keefe can't hear his heart pounding in his chest. “Why not?”
“Well…” Keefe clears his throat. “So uh--you should look into her eyes first.”
Fitz swallows hard and forces himself to meet Keefe's gaze. He tries to imagine Sophie's gold-flecked brown eyes, but the ice blue of Keefe's eyes are all he can think about.
“Yeah. Great.”
“Great,” Fitz echoes. He's sure his face is bright red. “What next?”
“Uh--you should cup her face with your hand.”
Keefe doesn't move his hand, so Fitz lifts his own and rests it lightly against Keefe's jawline.
“Like this?”
“Yeah, that's‐-yeah.” Keefe's voice is at least an octave higher than usual.
It's not unusual for Keefe and Fitz to be close. Even before university, they spent most of their time together, and now as roommates, they're hardly ever apart. Keefe's presence usually feels as natural as breathing. Now, though, Fitz finds himself very aware of just how close they are. He can feel Keefe's breath on his cheeks.
Fitz tries to steady his own breath. “And then?”
“And then you kiss her.”
Then Keefe closes the final space between them and his lips are on Fitz's and god, Keefe was right. It does come naturally, more natural than anything Fitz has ever known. Keefe's lips are far softer and warmer than Fitz ever realized, and they fit against Fitz's like they were made to.
He hardly remembers that this is only supposed to be practice as he twines his fingers in Keefe's curls and pulls him deeper into the kiss.
Keefe parts his lips slightly, and this is definitely not practice anymore, but Fitz doesn't want to stop, and from the way that Keefe sighs into his lips, he doesn't seem to want to either.
Fitz could stay like that forever, but then his phone alarm rings to remind him of his next class, and they both pull back.
It takes them both a moment to catch their breath.
“Class?” Keefe asks.
“Class. But…maybe we could practice more afterward?”
Keefe snorts. “Trust me,” he says, still a little flushed from the kiss. “You don't need practice.”
Fitz hesitates for a moment, but after kissing Keefe, he feels like he could do anything. “What if it isn't practice? What if I just want to kiss you?”
Keefe doesn't bother answering with words. He just pulls Fitz back into the kiss.
Fitz is almost certainly going to be late to psychology. Somehow, though, he can't bring himself to care.