"Kiichi!" He roars. "You bastard, you can't stop inconveniencing people-"
The Ooshiba siblings are in the middle of a routine. Kimishita sees Kiichi stretch his long limbs impossibly far, sees Mikoto execute a gorgeously smooth twist of her hips- this is why they're seeded for the Mikasa Cup, he knows, but he forces himself past the instant, instinctive appreciation for good dance that overtakes him whenever he sees the Ooshiba siblings, and instead focuses on the anger.
"Tsukushi! Back straight! You expect me to dance with a shrinking leader?!"
Kimishita's eye twitches.
"One, two, three."
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
"One, two-"
"Enough!" Kimishita shouts suddenly, dropping his partner's hand, whirling round on where Coach Nakazawa is halfheartedly clapping along to the beat of the simple three-four time waltz. Somehow, even after three months of dance training, Tsukamoto Tsukushi still bumbles over his feet, slacks in his hold, and loses the tempo. "Isn't there somewhere else you can practice?!"
Beside him, his partner- Watanabe, a straight-laced girl with short brown hair and dark eyes that glint behind the carefully-shined glasses perched on her nose- lays a hand on his elbow.
"Kimishita," she says, warningly. He nearly shakes her off.
"You know there's nowhere else." Nakazawa grumbles from his spot on a high stool next to the shelf with the stereo on it. "The Ooshiba siblings rescheduled their practice time."
"That guy." Kimishita mutters. "He makes everything so- difficult-"
Tsukamoto speaks up, looking remorseful.
"K-Kimishita-senpai!" He says earnestly. "If we're disturbing you, we can move!"
His partner, Ubukata- they're an unusual couple, because Ubukata stands a little above Tsukamoto, and has the distinctive look and temperament of a girl who's been leading another girl for most of her dancing life- smacks him over the head.
"We can't move, idiot!" She says. "Where would we go? There's only two practice rooms in this studio."
Kimishita grits his teeth.
"I'm gonna go give that bastard a piece of my mind," he growls, throws off Watanabe's arm to storm out the door.
Watanabe sighs.
"That guy... he's so hot-headed, even though he claims to be a rational person," she says, resigned. She pushes her glasses further up her nose and turns to the Coach. "Nakazawa-sensei, can I give these two some pointers while we wait for Kimishita-kun to come back?"
~~~~~~
Kimishita scowls his way down the short hallway and into the next practice room. Even through the padding on the walls, he can hear lively latin music blaring from the speakers, irresponsibly loud.
Of course. Kimishita refrains from hitting something.
Instead, he pushes the door open.
"Kiichi!" He roars. "You bastard, you can't stop inconveniencing people-"
The Ooshiba siblings are in the middle of a routine. Kimishita sees Kiichi stretch his long limbs impossibly far, sees Mikoto execute a gorgeously smooth twist of her hips- this is why they're seeded for the Mikasa Cup, he knows, but he forces himself past the instant, instinctive appreciation for good dance that overtakes him whenever he sees the Ooshiba siblings, and instead focuses on the anger.
Yes. The anger. That's always a safe bet.
They seem to reach the end of their routine, because the two of them strike a stunning pose before Kiichi lets out a loud, whiny groan, audible even above the loud music.
"Mikoto," he moans, "this routine is so boring! Can't we add some more choreo? Make me look cooler?"
"Shut up, Kiichi," Mikoto says, ever the voice of reason, panting from exertion. Both their faces are read and sweat is dripping from their brows. Kimishita pointedly does not look at the curve of Kiichi's biceps, exposed by his loose-fitting tank-top.
She turns to the door.
"Kimishita-kun?" She sounds surprised. "Sorry, were we too loud?"
Ah. Yes. There's a reason he's here. Kimishita steels himself.
"Your brother, being inconsiderate, as always," he growls, turning to Kiichi. "Because of your rescheduling, Watanabe and I have to share a practice room with that bumbling idiot, Tsukamoto!"
Kiichi rolls his eyes. He wipes at the sweat with a towel. Kimishita ensures his glare is fixed firmly on his face.
"It's not my problem," he sneers, seeming half a second from sticking his tongue out like some kind of immature toddler. "Not my fault you're such a perfectionist you can't practice with another pair so much as in the same room."
Kimishita grits his teeth. He's ten seconds away from decking Ooshiba. This is a familiar feeling. He and Kiichi have been in the same dance academy since junior high, after all.
It doesn't mean he likes him any more than the first time they had met, when Ooshiba's driver had almost run him over in front of the studio. Kimishita feels his nails dig into his palm.
~~~~~~
Kiichi is waiting for him outside the studio.
Kimishita is usually the last one to leave- Watanabe gets tired after normal practice, because she has a normal amount of stamina but not the beastly amount that Kimishita has developed after years and years of harsh, punishing cardio training- so he's surprised to see the glow of a mobile phone on the sidewalk in the setting sunlight.
Well, Kiichi isn't exactly waiting. He's poking at his phone irritably, looking disgustingly handsome for someone who had, an hour earlier, been sweating his guts out on a polished wood studio floor. A red scarf is wrapped tastefully around his neck, protecting him from the autumn chill- most definitely Mikoto's doing. He glances up when he hears the bell above the studio door jingle.
"Took you long enough," he snarks, and Kimishita makes to walk away. "Hey, hey, hey!"
Kimishita looks back. Kiichi's put his phone in his pocket, and shoved his hand in afterwards.
"Mikoto said I should apologize for making you give up your practice room," he mutters, frowning. Kimishita turns back to face him and crosses his arms.
"And?" He says. "Is this an apology?"
Kiichi rolls his eyes. Kimishita turns to leave again.
"Hey, hey!" Kiichi says, exasperated. "Jeez, I was getting to it, okay?"
Kimishita glares.
"Get to it," he says expectantly.
A muscle in Kiichi's jaw jumps.
He pulls out his wallet.
"I-" He starts, but Kimishita's actually offended now- does Kiichi think he can buy forgiveness? Sure, this isn't that big a slight, in the grand scheme of things, but it's the principle of the thing that matters... right?
"Save it!" Kimishita barks. "I don't want your money-"
Kiichi turns red. He almost folds his wallet in his hand, he's gripping it so hard.
"I was gonna say, I'll buy you dinner!" He shouts. "To apologize! At the diner you like, with the ice cream! Idiot!"
Kimishita stiffens.
"The American place?" He mutters. "How did you now about that?"
Kiichi flushes scarlet. He scratches the back of his neck.
"Watanabe told me." He says under his breath. "Not that I was asking, or anything."
Kimishita purses his lips. He folds his arms across his chest.
"Look, if you don't want to-" Kiichi begins, thoroughly embarrassed.
"Fine," Kimishita interrupts. He points a finger at Kiichi's face. "But you're buying ice cream, too. If you complain, I'm not accepting your apology."
"Deal," Kiichi says instantly.
He rolls his eyes.
"You drive a hard bargain," he mutters, pulling out his wallet to check how much money he has on him- apparently deeming it satisfactory, he turns abruptly and walks down the sidewalk.
Kimishita stares after him.
"Are you coming or not?" Kiichi calls over his shoulder.
"The restaurant is that way." Kimishita points in the opposite direction. Kiichi freezes.
"I knew that," he says, spinning around with all the grace of a nationally acclaimed dancer and striding back towards Kimishita.
Kimishita rolls his eyes, this time.
"Sure you did." He huffs. "Dumbass."
Their bickering en route to the diner, though, is markedly less antagonistic.
me 2 days ago: "I write fic but I'll probably never write for Days..."
me now: "Oh heck..."
Kimishita invites Ooshiba to the Skytree. That’s it. There’s an aquarium involved as well, but that’s not exactly important.
Also it’s 100% fluff.
Word count: 1750
Rating: G for General
On AO3.
It’s two days before a big game when Kiichi receives a text from Kimishita.
Meet me at the Skytree @ 3 tomorrow. Don’t be late, idiot!, is all it says. Kiichi can’t help but feel absolutely terrified and extremely curious at the same time. The anticipation of the game had him on edge the whole day so it’s a welcome distraction to keep his mind off for a while.
He doesn’t reply back because he knows it’ll piss Kimishita off but when he shows up at the Skytree Station—with the train that arrives exactly four minutes late—Kimishita is already there, wearing a pissed off expression and what seem to be his best clothes. Kiichi doesn’t dwell on it; they’re in public after all and there’s a lot more people around them than their usually would be.
Kiichi walks up to Kimishita as leisurely as he can. He can’t wait to get reactions out of him. He stops right next to Kimishita, looming over him with all the height advantage he has and says, “Yo.”
The way Kimishita always has to look up at him does things to Kiichi’s heart, so does the piercing stare of his eyes, but he quickly but he quickly shoves them to the back of his brain. Instead, he puts on a condescending smirk and waits for Kimishita to react accordingly.
He doesn’t.
Kimishita just turns around and says, “You’re late,” as if Kiichi hadn’t done it on purpose. Kiichi isn’t sure what to do with the lack of a proper response, so he just follows him.
“Why did you call me here?” Kiichi asks after a minute of silence that becomes too heavy for him to bear it.
Kimishita only stops and turns to him for a moment, before he keeps walking and replies, “I know you needlessly wreck your tiny brain before big games, so this is to calm you down.” Kiichi isn’t sure if Kimishita is actually worried about him or just wanted to insult him.
They leave the station and Kimishita is still so quiet that the surrounding sounds start to ring in Kiichi’s ears. “Why the Skytree?” he asks because it sounds casual enough.
It looks like Kimishita is blushing at that. Kiichi blames it on the light. He blames the funny feeling in his stomach on the fact that his last meal was two hours ago.
“You’ll see,” is all Kimishita says and then they’re at the top of the Skytree and for the first time in a long while Kiichi feels small.
“Is this what it feels like to be you?” he asks before he can stop himself and finally, finally, Kimishita turns to him with his usual pissed off expression.
“What did you just say?” Kimishita asks and the bite in his voice, that’s something Kiichi is familiar with, it’s much better than the awkward silence between them. This he can work with.
He holds his nose up in the air and grins. “I was just wondering if this is what it feels like to be tiny,” he says and dodges a punch flying towards his shoulder. Kiichi lets out a loud laugh that he can feel resounding in his whole body.
Turns out this distraction really was a good idea.
As they wait in line to get their tickets the awkward atmosphere has completely faded. Instead, their conversations are marked by bickering and talks about school, homework and of course football.
The queue shortens faster than Kiichi expected and in almost no time they’re at the front of the line and paying for their tickets. They manage to get tickets for a ride at six which leaves them with quite some time to kill. As they pay, Kiichi catches a glimpse at Kimishita’s wallet. There’s probably just enough money left to grab a bite in the meantime.
They step outside into the sun again and are suddenly left with only each other and more than two hours of time to kill. Kiichi already lets his eyes wander for a good place to have a snack at but Kimishita beats him to it.
“Wanna have a look?” Kimishita asks and points at the Sumida Aquarium right in front of them. Kiichi’s eyes widen a little. He’s always wanted to go but he never got an opportunity to.
He doubts Kimishita wants to go with him of all people either.
Kiichi is about to reject his offer and just sit down in a fast food restaurant and keep up their bickering for some more time, but Kimishita grabs his wrist and pulls him towards the aquarium.
Kimishita’s ears look red from what Kiichi can see of them. He blames it on the sun.
He also wonders if Kimishita even has enough money to go to the Skytree and the aquarium. So, before the cashier can even tell them the price for the tickets, Kiichi whips out his card—because he can—and says, “They’re both on me.” He’s delighted to see Kimishita’s jaw drop.
Kimishita at least waits until they’ve entered the exhibition and even tries to keep his voice low when he asks, “What the hell was that?”
“I felt like treating your poor ass so be thankful.” Kiichi is proud of how nonchalant he sounds despite the way his heart races.
“I didn’t ask you to,” Kimishita spits out but that marks the end of the conversation because a group of tourists enter behind them.
They focus on the exhibits instead, watch the way the fish and other marine animals idle through the water. From time to time Kiichi finds it hard to decide which is more interesting to look at; the tanks or the way Kimishita watches them with interested eyes. He manages not to waste too many thoughts towards the way the reflections of the water make Kimishita look very mysterious.
They don’t hurry through the aquarium and instead take their time looking at the exhibits. The silence that spreads between them this time doesn’t feel as crushing as before, so Kiichi almost catches himself enjoying the quiet moments he gets to spend with Kimishita.
Soon they reach the section focusing on tropical fish and Kiichi instantly forgets about everything he just thought about. Sometimes he wonders if tropical fish are a weird hobby, like how people tell him it’s weird to like tomatoes but hate cherry tomatoes, but he can’t bring himself to care at the moment.
Kiichi’s eyes practically sparkle as he looks at all the exotic species that swim all around him. When he recognises a specimen he quickly winks Kimishita over to tell him all he knows about it. Halfway through, he finds another one he knows and starts talking about this one instead.
His eyes scan the tank for more fish he can talk about, when they suddenly catch a glimpse at Kimishita’s reflection. The words he was about to say get stuck in his throat.
Kimishita is wearing the most gentle expression, Kiichi has ever seen on him. For a moment, he feel a pang of jealousy towards whatever Kimishita is looking at like that. He blames it on the inevitable lack of attention on him. Kiichi turns around to see just what Kimishita is so focused on and his eyes widen.
Kimishita is looking at him. There’s a small smile on his lips. A small, secret smile just for Kiichi.
His heart performs a dangerous flips. He gulps.
“Why did you bring me here, Kimishita? What is this? Why does it feel like a date?” Kiichi asks and he can’t believe his own words. Much less can he believe the feeling of hope that spreads in his stomach.
Kimishita leaves the question unanswered and instead turns away to look at the next tank.
“Is this supposed to be a date? Oi, Kimishita?” Kiichi asks and he’s pretty sure he’s sounding desperate now.
Kimishita finally turns towards him and this time Kiichi is almost certain that his cheeks are red. “You know, all these fish?” Kimishita starts and Kiichi is a little lost what this has to do with his question, but he nods. “I wish you were this smart at school. How do you know all that and still count with fingers?”
Kiichi’s mouth opens and closes a few times without making a sound—almost like a fish.
Before he can figure out how to respond Kimishita pulls his phone out of his pocket and says, “Oh, it’s already this late. We should hurry a little.” And with that he moves on to the next room, leaving an entirely confused Kiichi behind.
They’re quiet again as they make their way through the rest of the exhibition. It’s a different kind of silence once again and Kiichi can’t quite find the words to describe it. All he knows is that he wants to say something but he doesn’t know what.
Just like that they leave the aquarium behind them and just barely make it to their appointed time at the Skytree. They quickly show their tickets and then they’re ushered to the back of an elevator that floods with people until they’re basically pressed against the wall and each other.
Kiichi’s heart beats faster.
Kimishita’s hand brushes his gently enough to be an accident. The words that follow it make Kiichi question the coincidence of it, “Would you want it to be one?”
For a moment, Kiichi doesn’t know what Kimishita is talking about, but then he sees he way his whole face reddens—this time he can actually see and watch it—and how he averts his eyes and his hand moves on his own to catch Kimishita’s wrist before he can move it away.
The way up to the observation platform of the Skytree proves to be longer than it should take for a high-tech building like this. The guide at the front happily tells them details about the tower—apparently it doesn’t even take a whole minute to get to the top, why does it feel so much longer—but Kiichi can’t seemed to follow the voices for long.
Instead, he listens to the way his heart beats faster than after an exhausting game, and focuses on the way his nerves are on edge more than when he stands behind the ball before a free kick.
Kiichi’s hand nervously slides down Kimishita’s palm and his breath catches when fingers intertwine with his own.
As the elevator empties and tourists stream out onto the observation platform, Kiichi’s lips gently press against Kimishita’s.
KIMISHITA LITERALLY JUST SCORED A GOAL FOR OOSHIBA THAT KIMISHITA HIMSELF JUST CALLED IMPOSSIBLE A MINUTE BEFORE I’M NOT CRYING I’VE JUST GOT AN OTP IN MY EYES
NOTE: uh lets imagine that ooshiba plays pro soccer in season and works on getting a degree out of season bc his parents expect him to or something. this is pretty self-indulgent and makes little logistical sense ngl
oh theres smut in th second half sorry
on ao3.
Ooshiba leans back in his chair, frustrated.
"Ugh." He mutters, dropping an arm over his eyes. He doesn't want to ever see a textbook again, he thinks.
The door to the room opens. Ooshiba looks up, relaxing again when he sees who it is.
"Atsushi." He groans, feigning distress. "Save me."
Kimishita drops his bag on his bed and glares at him, taking off his glasses and slotting them in their case. Despite the fact that they're now a) in university and b) roommates and dating for over two years, the other man's temper hasn't dulled much.
He walks over and squints at the article that Ooshiba's reading, hand on his shoulder. Ooshiba peeks out from the corner of his eye, under his arm, and grins, leaning up in a flash to press his lips to Kimishita's cheek.
"Get off." Kimishita grumbles, but he doesn't move away, his hand shifting to the junction between his boyfriend's neck and shoulder. "You have to study, dumbass. If you fail another test, your parents are going to kill you, no matter how many goals you score next season."
Ooshiba sighs.
"I know." He mutters, sliding his hand down Kimishita's back and around his side. "I've been studying all day."
Kimishita smiles, exasperatedly fond, and lets his fingers trail into Ooshiba's hair before drawing back.
"Want to go out for dinner?" Ooshiba continues, tipping his head back to watch his boyfriend loosen his tie and pop the first couple buttons on his dress shirt. "We can go to that okonomiyaki place you like."
Kimishita shrugs, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves.
"Sure." He says. It's been a while since they went out together, anyways, what with Kimishita's classes getting increasingly more challenging and Ooshiba being prefectures away half the year to play soccer.
Ooshiba grins and springs up, pulling his t-shirt over his head and rifling through the suitcase full of rumpled-but-clean clothes at the foot of his bed. Kimishita rolls his eyes. Would it kill him to fold his laundry for once?
(He does appreciate the view, though. Kiichi glances back at him and, catching him watching with appraising eyes, smirks.)
"Alright!" He almost shouts, and Kimishita throws a pair of socks at him to get him to shut up.
~~~~~~
The okonomiyaki is good.
They sit on the same side of the booth. Their shoulders touch, and their knees bump together under the table. At one point, Kiichi sticks his chopsticks, a piece of food suspended between them, under Kimishita's nose, and refuses to move them until Kimishita sighs, put-upon, and leans forward to eat it. He grins in satisfaction and snakes his left arm around Kimishita's waist.
The girl at the counter is someone Kimishita vaguely recognizes from his introduction to anatomy class. She waves at them. He politely returns the gesture.
"Friend of yours?" Ooshiba smirks, but his grip around Kimishita's waist tightens. Kimishita rolls his eyes.
"Classmate, I think." He takes another bite. "Your jealous tendencies are cute sometimes, Kiichi, but calm down."
Ooshiba huffs and drops his face into Kimishita's hair.
"How can I?" He mumbles. "I'm gone half the year... what if someone smarter than me steals you away?"
Kimishita shoves him lightly in the stomach.
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." He scoffs, waving his chopsticks, but turning his face closer to Ooshiba's shoulder nonetheless. "First, I'm too busy studying to date, moron."
Ooshiba grins.
"But you're dating me." He murmurs into Kimishita's ear.
"Second," Kimishita continues, as if Ooshiba hasn't interrupted, "it's definitely not hard to find someone smarter than you-"
"-oi!" Ooshiba brings his head up, frowns down at his boyfriend, who feigns ignorance. "Rude."
"-but we trust each other." Kimishita finishes. He turns back to his food. "And if I wanted someone smart, I wouldn't be dating you. Eat, or the food will get cold."
Kiichi smirks.
"Did you just say you trust me?" He snickers, momentarily trying to pull Kimishita closer to him. It doesn't work, because Kimishita knows that if they were to get any closer, he'd be sitting in Kiichi's lap, and this is a public place, and so he digs in his heels.
"I said we trust each other." Kimishita rolls his eyes, picking up another piece of okonomiyaki and shoving it in front of his boyfriend's smug face. "We're dating, you dumbass. Now, eat."
Ooshiba eats. Even though he's chewing, that stupid smile doesn't disappear.
~~~~~~
They stop by a grocery store after dinner.
Ooshiba leads Kimishita by the hand, fingers interlaced, to the frozen foods section. Kimishita picks an ice cream in seconds, sticking the hand that's not occupied by his boyfriend's in his pocket as Ooshiba stares at the selection, probably (slowly) mentally debating between three or four flavors.
Finally, he picks one. Kimishita gets his as well. They pay at the front counter and start the walk back to their apartment, hands still clasped.
Kimishita feels Kiichi watching him.
He looks up for the- sixth? Seventh?- time, only to see Kiichi glance hastily away. There's a flush high up on his face, and he's oddly quiet, even though he's eaten his ice cream in four ridiculously huge bites and complained about brain freeze for a solid minute afterwards, prompting another eye-roll and assertion that yes, his boyfriend is an idiot, by Kimishita.
"What?" He finally asks, annoyed now.
Ooshiba- there's no mistake about it- blushes. It's something that Kimishita's seen happen several times over the last two years, starting with the day before graduation, when he had cornered Kimishita in the storage closet, yelled for five minutes about both why Kimishita wasn't going pro and why they were going to the same college, and kissed him solidly on the mouth, but there's nothing in this situation that would warrant that kind of flush...
...right?
"Are you..." Kimishita says incredulously, his half-eaten ice cream in his hand, melting slightly, "...turned on right now?"
Ooshiba's face goes bright red and he looks away. His grip on Kimishita's hand tightens.
"...don't be stupid." He mutters, so quiet Kimishita can barely hear him.
Kimishita can't hold it in- he snorts, but secretly, his chest glows with something like ego. Yeah, the fact that he can get Kiichi hot and bothered with just his mouth and an ice cream...
He smirks and picks up the pace, tugging Ooshiba along.
~~~~~~
Kimishita pushes Ooshiba up against the wall of the apartment as soon as the door closes behind them.
"I knew it." He grins smugly, hand traversing downward to press on the front of Kiichi's jeans. Ooshiba's breath sticks in his chest for a moment.
"I'm allowed to get a little hard when my boyfriend's basically fellating an ice cream like it's nothing." He huffs, leaning down to kiss Kimishita, press their lips together, let his tongue sneak out between them. It tastes a little bit like ice cream.
Kimishita lets himself enjoy it for a moment, this familiar feeling of kissing Kiichi, before drawing back.
And dropping to his knees.
Ooshiba groans. His hips slide ever so slightly down the wall, and Kimishita undoes his belt and unbuttons his pants in one motion. He feels Ooshiba's hands slide through his hair.
"Yeah..." He pants, already red-faced, hips moving in tiny motions. "Atsushi..."
No matter how many times he says it, Kiichi using his first name sends a flutter through Kimishita.
He takes the head of his cock into his mouth.
Kiichi knows better than to try and fuck Kimishita's mouth without letting him acclimate first, so he holds back as Kimishita slowly slides his lips down the girth of his cock, flattening his tongue along the underside, careful to keep his teeth out of the way. Kiichi's head tips back against the wall. His fingers press along Kimishita's scalp, and sensation sparks along the small of his back and curls in his gut as his boyfriend's lips stretch around his dick.
"Fuck..." He sighs, starting to roll his hips in tiny motions, smoothing his hands from the sides of Kimishita's head to the area around his ears to tracing the junction of his jaw. "Atsushi..."
Kimishita glances up and hollows his cheeks, one hand on Ooshiba's pelvis, drawing back only to bob his head forward again. He sees Kiichi start to come apart at the ends, panting and flushed with pleasure, and he would grin in satisfaction if he didn't have a dick in his mouth.
He's hard, he realizes, and can't suppress a groan when he reaches down to palm his own cock through his jeans, sending pleasure rough against his skin.
He doesn't make a conscious decision to relinquish control to Ooshiba- the tone slowly shifts from Kimishita controlling the pace to Kiichi moving his hips more dramatically, muscles working, and Kimshita adjusts, letting his mouth shift to pliable and open.
"Shit-" Ooshiba gasps, instinctively pulling on Kimishita's hair, pressing his fingertips to his scalp. The precum leaking from the tip tastes bitter. Kimishita starts to think he doesn't feel like swallowing or spitting.
Kiichi chokes, and his hips strain, stuttering. Kimishita takes the opportunity, with a spark of inspiration and a hint of smugness, to pull away, swiftly wrapping his whole hand around Kiichi's spit-slicked cock, and squeezing his eyes shut.
He feels it splatter across his face.
Kimishita blinks his eyes open.
Ooshiba is slumped against the wall above him, still panting. He looks down and stares.
"Damnit," he groans, letting his head drop back against the wall, "Atsushi, are you trying to give me another hard-on?"
Kimishita grins. Success. He licks a drop of cum from the corner of his mouth before standing up.
"You're a kinky bastard." He snickers, satisfied. It's worth it, the mess, in exchange for this strange thrill or a power trip.
(And maybe a tiny, tiny part of him likes feeling... claimed. It's the same way he feels when Kiichi sucks red, purple marks onto his collarbone, along his neck, or fucks him so hard he can't walk without feeling it in the morning. Or when they're feeling rough, and Kiichi pins his arms behind his back and drives his thick cock into him with minimal preparation- enough so it's not too painful, but lets him feel that stretch on his insides that drives him crazy- or when Kiichi ties his wrists to the headboard and teases him for so long he breaks down and begs...
Kimishita surreptitiously adjusts himself in his pants.)
"Shut up." Kiichi sighs, smiles, endorphins flooding his bloodstream, letting his right hand trail down to almost gently caress Kimishita's face, smearing his cum against the other man's lip with the pad of his thumb.
He shakes his head. His grin gets sharper.
"Your turn."
Kimishita gets up.
"Let me wash my face first, idiot." He rolls his eyes, takes steps to the bathroom.
When he emerges, Kiichi is sitting lazily on the bed, watching Kimishita with a smirk on his face. Kimishita steps out of his jeans on the way back and gets on the bed, only to be pushed on his back by his boyfriend.
"How can you still have so much energy after cumming?" Kimishita grumbles, but he's not complaining- especially not when Kiichi grins and slips his hand in his boxers, pulling the waistband down, wrapping his fingers around Kimishita's fully hard cock.
"What kind of partner," Ooshiba insists, "would leave his partner high and dry after getting blown so spectacularly?"
Kimishita rolls his eyes and pushes on Ooshiba's head.
"Get to it, then." He mutters.
Kiichi grins and complies.
He's kneeling on Kimishita's legs, immobilizing his lower body, and he takes Kimishita's cock into his mouth in one movement, falling into this technique he's developed over two years of dating- he tightens his lips and sucks, dragging his tongue along the underside, grinning when Kimishita lets out a noise and tries to buck upwards, burying his hands in Ooshiba's red hair.
"Fuck-" He gasps, breathless, trying to fuck upwards, "Kiichi-"
Ooshiba moans around the cock in his mouth, and the vibrations make Kimisita tense in pleasure- he almost rakes his fingernails along Ooshiba's scalp, and Ooshiba bobs his head, ears tuned to pick up every noise that escapes Kimishita's lips.
Kimishita's surprisingly vocal in bed. Actually, that might be because Kiichi takes some notable pleasure in breaking him until he has to make noise, whimpering under his fingers or whining out of the back of his throat or flat-out wailing as Kiichi fucks him, but he pants now, breath hot.
"God, Kiichi." He groans, precum dribbling liberally from the slit of his flushed cock. "That feels- ah-"
Ooshiba, unable to answer, hums in acknowledgement. This has the added benefit of making Kimishita buck under him, pleasure lancing down his spine, and Ooshiba feels more than hears him getting close, reaching the precipice-
"Fuck-" Kimishita stammers, hips all but canting up off the bed and deeper into Kiichi's mouth. "Kiichi, I'm going to-"
Ooshiba glances up and sucks harder, letting his teeth trail ever so gently along the sensitive skin by the head of Kimishita's cock. Kimishita seizes, eyes wide, and Ooshiba has little warning before his mouth is flooded with bitter, sticky fluid.
He pulls off and swallows, grimacing at the taste, mostly because he's too lazy to get up to go to the bathroom to spit, then tucks Kimishita's cock neatly back into his briefs before sliding back up the bed until he's eye-to-eye with Kimishita again.
His boyfriend is still hot, flushed, panting. Kiichi grins in satisfaction and takes his chin in his fingers, bringing it at an angle, pressing their lips together. His tongue slips between them.
Kimishita can taste his own cum on Kiichi's tongue. It's alarmingly arousing, somehow dirty and possessive, and he moans helplessly. His mouth drops open. Kiichi takes his time sliding his tongue against Kimishita's, licking the other man's lips, thoroughly dirtying the man's mouth.
After a while, starting to feel drowsy, he pulls the blanket around their cooling bodies and smiles, wrapping an arm around Kimishita's waist. Kimishita sighs and leans into him, smoothing his fingertips over his bare skin in an intimate, familiar motion.
~~~~~~
Kimishita stirs.
The shades are closed. Blinking his eyes open, he can vaguely see the gleams of the beginnings of a sunrise through them.
Behind him, Kiichi tightens his grip around his waist.
"Mhf." He mumbles into Kimishita's hair. "Go back to sleep."
It's warm. Kimishita sighs and closes his eyes again.
