“Here you go,” Konzen said. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”
“You’re welcome,” Tenpou replied as he plucked the book from Konzen’s hand. He rummaged around, looking for the spot in the middle of a stack where he’d found it before letting Konzen borrow it. “Ah!” he exclaimed just before half the pile fell over.
A hardcover hit his foot. He hopped around and cursed. Konzen shook his head slightly, leaned over, and silently handed books to Tenpou one at a time so he could pile them back up again. Tenpou’s skin tingled as Konzen’s fingertips brushed against his, and he wondered what Konzen would do if he “accidentally” touched Konzen someplace else – on his thigh, for example.
Konzen straightened up when all the books were replaced, wished Tenpou good night, and departed. Tenpou was left with the lingering sense memory of Konzen’s fingertips ghosting against his own and the impulse to ask if Konzen could loan him a kiss. Maybe next time.