"But do we have a clear definition of what kissing even means?" Yata asks, waving his pen in the air. They're sitting on the floor of Hideya's room studying, as they often do the night before their assignments are due. In Hideya's opinion, "How do you feel about kissing?" wasn't an overly esoteric question to ask someone one had been dating for nearly six months (well, not technically dating; dating was an overly complicated and excessively binding social construct according to Yata. They were "enjoying one another's company in a relationship that existed in spheres that were not only platonic" to use Yata's words. To use his own words, they were dating).

In retrospect, he probably could have phrased the question better, or at least asked sometime when Yata wasn't in the middle of writing a philosophy paper.

"Did you know there's no universal definition of a kiss?" Yata continues. "Does it require contact between two pairs of lips, or is one set of lips anywhere on another's body sufficient? What about blown kisses? Is a kiss still a kiss if there's no physical contact? Historically, the answer has been "all of the above" and then some. Take Plato, for example--"

In a show of great restraint, Yata cuts himself off when Hideya groans loudly and rubs his temples. "Drop the philosophy for a minute," Hideya says. "You personally. Kissing. Yes or no?"

Yata blinks as if he'd just been asked the flavor of moon rocks. "That depends on context, of course. How well do I know the person I'm kissing? What is the nature of our relationship? Where are we and who else is present? Kissing a romantic partner in private is very different from kissing in public, though one could argue that the acceptability of public displays of affection is itself a social construct to be--"

The rest of his sentence is cut off by Hideya leaning in and pressing their mouths together.

"Like this," Hideya says when he breaks away. "You and me, here, now."

"Oh. Yes."