shortymitsu sees what u did there.
thiiis is not a birthday fic because it has been sitting around since like, christmas. finished and posted now mostly because mousi was the one i told about it (happy birthday! \o/), i have an essay to procrastinate for, and i love my new icon ahaha. 8D unbeta'd like 99% of my stuff, but notable here because it is porn and dear god i still cannot write this stuff to save myself; lord knows why i still try.
extrapolated from these four drabbles at je100, and came to be after mousapelli wrote this in continuation. ♥ (and then there were also these four after that.)
...but it didn't turn out as light-hearted or funny. poo.
Title: Kidzuite (Realise)
Who: Kitayama/Totsuka, fail Totsuka/Hashimoto
What: NC-17; 3600w ←NOT BECAUSE IT HAS A PLOT. /SHAME. BECAUSE IT DOES NOT.
Notes: "I really just need so much more Kitayama/Totsuka. Also I need DJ to go on writing this sequence of events."-Mousi. Also, Courier is English.
"You'll come back to my place, won't you?" Totsuka asks slyly when they've had enough ramen and beer with coke, scotch, and salted peanuts to last through at least one nuclear winter. He smiles as if it's been his idea all along. "My parents are in Kobe 'til Saturday. You know you want to~"
"You know you want me to," Kitayama smirks back, more than willing but not exactly at his brightest. He follows the path Totsuka picks from their swivelling bar stools to the front of the izakaya. "Make it worth my while?"
"I promise you won't have to see your mother naked if you come?" Totsuka pays for his share at the counter.
Kitayama's brows furrow blankly. "Come, or make you come?" The girl at the register barely hides her snerk, reaching over to help Kitayama with his wallet and change because multitasking is clearly beyond his current skill set.
Thinking is clearly beyond his current skill set, especially when Totsuka smiles over with that playful look in his eyes. "Well, both sound good to me."
Their race home does little to take the edge off Kitayama's light-headed inebriation. Totsuka laughs through the streets, twisting just out of reach every time Kitayama makes a grab for the tails of his long, navy coat. Still, Kitayama gets the last laugh when Totsuka fumbles the key at his front door. They tumble inside and Kitayama tackles Totsuka down over the foyer step.
Nose to nose, Totsuka's brown eyes shine brightly. "Mm~ hey there," he chuckles, breathless from the run and Kitayama's weight on top of him.
"Hey," Kitayama smiles back, and lets himself get tugged into a messy kiss.
A voice three seconds later makes Kitayama jerk back in surprise. (He forgets not every family's as small as his own.) "You'd have done better to at least make it to your room, Sho."
Totsuka grins, his lips pink and wet, and tilts his head back to look at the figure in the hall upside down. "Still here, Nii-san? I guess we got back a bit early."
"A little," Totsuka's brother says dryly, stepping around them to get to the shoe rack. "Anyway, mom left food in the fridge." He pauses. "Have you told our sister she won't be wanting to come back home tonight?"
"Not yet?"
With a noise of annoyance, Totsuka's brother pulls out his cellphone and snaps a succinct picture of the scene (Totsuka flashing a peace-sign; Kitayama looking a little confused). "There," he says after a moment. "Sent."
"Thanks, Nii-san~" Totsuka grins.
"…sorry to trouble you," Kitayama adds, his scotch-fogged brain finally finding his tongue.
Totsuka's brother gives him a long look up and down. "I was going out anyway," he says before shrugging. "Better you than that Goseki creep."
The frank assessment makes Totsuka laugh for a full minute after his brother's shut the front door.
"What's so funny?" Kitayama complains, struggling to get out of his coat in the meantime. "Tell me!"
"Nii-chan liiikes~ you," Totsuka beams, and Kitayama is almost distracted by his flushed cheeks.
"I doubt that," he frowns instead. "Big brothers don't like anybody, just look at Fujigaya-" Giving up on the fight with his loops and toggles, he yanks the jacket off over his head. "-or Koki-kun. And better than Goseki-sama isn't much of a compliment anyway."
Totsuka winks. "Isn't it though? Depends on what you're talking about, right?"
"Don't change the subject," Kitayama says, tugging Totsuka out of his own jacket next. But Totsuka's silence seems smug, and Kitayama feels obliged to add: "Whatever you think he can do, I can do better."
"Well, I know he can do an awful lot," Totsuka grins, looping his arms back around Kitayama's neck. "But you'll give it your best shot I'm sure."
"I'll give you my best shot," Kitayama growls.
Totsuka laughs. "And that's why I'm here and not there~"
"I-" Kitayama pauses. Blinks. "…wait. Your unit spends Christmas together?"
"Hm?" Totsuka tilts his head. "Of course we do."
Kitayama frowns, registering an inconsistency. "Then… shouldn't you be, like… not here?"
"It's okay," Totsuka tells him with a smile. "Christmas comes at least once a week for us. Or maybe just once a month if you only count the times with cake." He strokes his fingers along the back of Kitayama's neck, coaxing Kitayama down 'til their foreheads rest against each other. "But it's been a while since you've asked me out, Hiromitsu."
Kitayama closes his eyes. It's true, but their groups are barely at the jimusho at the same time anymore lately and it's just never been convenient… "I'll make it up to you," he murmurs, brushing a soft kiss over Totsuka's mouth. Totsuka smiles, fingers curling at Kitayama's neck in eloquent reply. His lips part when Kitayama presses further, tongue brushing along Kitayama's own, curling and stroking just lightly enough to work a groan from Kitayama's throat.
"…maybe we should head to your room," Kitayama mutters, his jeans starting to get a little uncomfortable.
Totsuka laughs, but there isn't so much as some floral-scented hand lotion within reach and Kitayama does not approve.
Upstairs, Totsuka's room is the same as Kitayama remembers it, bar a few minor changes: KinKi's new Kinkyu DVD poster is up on the wall now beside Tackey and Tsubasa's old Hatachi one, and Flumpool have joined Asian Kung Fu Generation on the closet.
There's still the creepy little Michael Jackson figurine on the bedside table.
"That thing is worse now that he's dead," Kitayama grumbles, flopping back onto Totsuka's bed so he doesn't have to look at it. "Is your nightstand a shrine or what?"
"It was for a couple of weeks," Totsuka says, climbing into Kitayama's lap, and Kitayama declares Totsuka's type of weird 'unforgivable' as if he's an authority on the matter. (Though Kismai being what it is, he considers himself at least para-professional.)
Amused, Totsuka just threads his fingers back through Kitayama's hair and leans down to distract him with an earnest kind of attention until Kitayama remembers he wanted naked time. He slides his palms up Totsuka's back, under his shirt, tugging on the tee until Totsuka stops with the nips and kisses long enough to let Kitayama pull it up over his head.
Their phones chime simultaneously.
Totsuka ignores his, and looks less than impressed when Kitayama fishes his own out of his back pocket and flips it open (to be fair, it had been vibrating under his ass)-until Kitayama shows him who the message is from.
t.f..xxx@docomo.ne.jp
Veri Merry X'mas, everyone
Early wishes because, like a lot of you I'm sure, I'll be busy at midnight. (笑)
"We're busy right now," Totsuka remarks, just as Kitayama's phone buzzes a second time.
t.f..xxx@docomo.ne.jp
Enjoy your bed, Fattymitsu.
Try not to ruin your mom's night too much.
"That asshole," Kitayama grumbles, typing a quick riposte.
"Remember: at least he isn't fucking your mom," Totsuka shrugs. "Probably."
Kitayama stares at Totsuka's deadpan face for a long moment, brain ticking over, before he clears the screen and sends instead:
kitami2@docomo.ne.jp
where are you??
your not sleeping with my mom, are you?!
"Hey," Totsuka protests, a little put out. And then clearly a lot put out when Fujigaya's reply arrives within seconds and Kitayama goes to message him back again. "Hey." Plucking the phone from Kitayama's hand, Totsuka pops the battery out and drops it to the floor without ceremony. "Pay attention to me," he demands.
"You'd never say that sober," Kitayama accuses, but then Totsuka pins him with strong hands on his shoulders, and gives a slow, deliberate roll of his hips that has Kitayama gritting his teeth against a groan.
"Maybe I'd just think it," Totsuka tells him, his dark stare sending heat racing through Kitayama's veins. "Maybe you should pay attention to me more often."
"Really," Kitayama says-just to be obtuse. He forgets what they're talking anyway about when Totsuka does Kawai's thing with the buttons on Kitayama's shirt and trails his hand down Kitayama's bared chest in consideration.
"Do or die?" Totsuka grins. "You're adorable." His eyes are fond for two seconds before they go wide, as if he's surprised by his own words, but the damage has been done.
Kitayama glares up in annoyance. Totsuka knows being the cute one all the time, the short one, the fat one, is one of Kitayama's pet hates, and is unsurprised when Kitayama flips them over, pinning Totsuka's wrists to the bed. Totsuka grins, moaning softly when Kitayama's fingers dig in deeper.
"You're a tease," Kitayama tells him, voice low and rough as he rocks their hips together.
"Only if I don't put out," Totsuka chuckles, and Kitayama takes that as an open invitation to rid him roughly of the rest of his clothes.
Naked and already half hard, Totsuka stretches out on the bed with a comfortable smile, crossing his wrists above his head completely of his own volition. "Whenever you're ready, Hiromitsu," he says and Kitayama stares, breath caught.
Eventually, he finds his tongue. "Just… keep your hands there."
"If you like." Totsuka obliges, shifting a little to hold onto the top edge of his mattress.
Kitayama does like, he decides, tracing his fingers under the line of Totsuka's jaw and down his neck. Totsuka hums a languid encouragement, and Kitayama leans over to suck lightly at the trail of freckles over Totsuka's collarbone. He works his way further down slowly, with open kisses and light flicks of his tongue that turn Totsuka's steady breath to gasps and whimpers.
Kitayama glances up when he reaches Totsuka's stomach, and Totsuka meets him with glazed eyes, only vaguely curious. "You should put your bar back in," Kitayama says, stroking his thumb over Totsuka's pierced navel. "Fujigaya's is fun."
"Oh…" Totsuka sighs, shifting his weight, "that. It was distracting Hasshi too much." He's clearly distracted himself though, and Kitayama chuckles.
"Kouhai suck. I mean, Ken-chan couldn't dance right for weeks after Nika got his done."
Totsuka tilts his head. "Mm~ but are you sure that was from distraction, Hiromitsu?" Stretching out a leg, he massages pointedly at Kitayama's crotch with his toes. Kitayama grunts, the tightness of his jeans suddenly a lot harder to ignore. "I only ask because Hasshi couldn't dance right for a long time after he joined us, too, but it wasn't always because he had so much to catch up on."
"I don't want to know about that kid," Kitayama grumbles, confiscating the little tube Totsuka's rolling between his fingers.
"He's cuter than Kento," Totsuka says, shifting onto his right flank. He smiles amiably over the line of his shoulder, but Kitayama remains dismissive: "He's taller than Tamamori." Tall and cute are, of course, mutually exclusive in his mind. Totsuka doesn't particularly argue, hiking his knee up and humming as Kitayama coats his fingers with lube. His brain visibly ticks over as the lube warms. One thought at a time. "But that doesn't necessarily mean that short people are cute, you know…"
"Whenever you're ready, Hiromitsu," Totsuka says again with an amused note, and Kitayama figures thinking can wait.
He draws a wet line between Totsuka's cheeks, pressing in, and Totsuka pushes back against his hand almost immediately with a soft moan, "More."
Kitayama obliges, sliding a second finger in, and soon a third. He strokes Totsuka's stomach gently with his free hand, dropping a kiss over his hip and coaxing him to relax as he begins to move his fingers, slowly at first, carefully, watching Totsuka's face for the telltale change from discomfort to desire.
It's there when Totsuka's lips quirk into a smile and he meets Kitayama's eyes, pushing back more insistently against his hand, eyes waxed black and encouraging. Kitayama finger-fucks him harder, and Totsuka's shameless moans dissolve into breathless laughter as Kitayama sucks on the sensitive spot just under his ribs, teasing it with his teeth and tongue until Totsuka tangles a hand in his hair, gasping. "Tickles, Hiromits- oh."
Kitayama smirks and crooks his fingers again, enjoying the shivers through Totsuka's body, and the arch of his back. He trails his other hand up Totsuka's thigh, barely brushing his erection, and Totsuka groans again. "…and you called me a tease."
"I don't know where your condoms are," Kitayama says, "and I still have my pants on."
"Why is that?" Totsuka chuckles, evidently finding something funny about the situation. He pushes Kitayama's hands away-"Deal with yourself."-and wriggles up the bed to tip his Michael Jackson figure over, slipping a couple of thin silver packets out from under its stand.
Kitayama has a bit of trouble with his belt and fly, distracted as he is by Totsuka carefully setting the little statuette right again.
"Why are you so weird with that thing," he complains.
"Why aren't you naked?" Totsuka counters, and Kitayama supposes that's a valid argument by this stage. Totsuka impatiently rids him of his jeans and boxer-briefs.
"Thanks," Kitayama says, sitting back.
"You're useless," Totsuka corrects with a smile, giving Kitayama a few firm strokes before rolling the condom on. Kitayama groans at the pressure of his hands and the thought of fucking Totsuka that hard, that roughly. He pulls Totsuka into a fierce kiss, hand tight in Totsuka's hair, sucking at Totsuka's mouth and stealing all the little noises Totsuka makes in the back of his throat.
He pulls back with one last suck on Totsuka's tongue, the both of them breathing hard.
"Tell me how you want me," Totsuka demands softly, lips thick and red, and the words go straight to Kitayama's cock.
"Like this, right now," he says without hesitation.
Totsuka chuckles softly but straddles Kitayama's lap without complaint, hands braced on Kitayama's shoulders. Kitayama strokes himself and guides Totsuka onto him. Totsuka's body is tight and hot and he lowers himself down torturously slow. Kitayama grits his teeth and keeps his hips determinedly still. There's still tension in Totsuka's back-though not enough to make Kitayama believe he isn't half teasing again, especially not when he combs one hand through Kitayama's hair gently like they have all the time in the world.
"…tease," Kitayama grumbles, voice tight with Totsuka seated snug in his lap; in response, Totsuka shifts a little and flexes around him and Kitayama bites back a groan. "You aren't not ready. You can't not be ready." He's not sure if it's statement, accusation or desperation.
"Don't rush me," Totsuka grins, and Kitayama growls.
"Tottsu…"
For a long moment Totsuka says nothing, his fingers drawing small circles at Kitayama's nape. But at length, he smiles a different smile. "Just kidding." And laughs when Kitayama shoves him back by the shoulders in exasperation.
Kitayama doesn't say anything after that, hitching Totsuka's legs up and fucking him into the mattress. Totsuka makes enough noise for both of them anyway, moaning shamelessly. "Mm~ harder, Hiromitsu, please." His breath catches on each of Kitayama's thrusts, dark hair splaying out as he tosses his head, and Kitayama grits his teeth at the sight. His grip tightens on Totsuka's hips, and he sees Totsuka's fingers curl tighter in the sheets in response.
"Hiromitsu," Totsuka gasps, again and again. "Hiromitsu, ah."
His mouth is slick and pink, and when Kitayama leans down to kiss him again Totsuka shifts his grip to keep him close with an arm around his neck. It's harder to move this way and Kitayama makes a noise of frustration, but Totsuka only smiles against his mouth and clenches his muscles in time with Kitayama's thrusts. A groan tears from Kitayama's throat at the tightness of it.
"Close," he grits, feeling the familiar slow burn coiling in him.
Totsuka still has the presence of mind to laugh, caressing Kitayama's cheek and kissing him lightly. "We need to do this again when you're not three sheets to the wind," he teases, and Kitayama bites at his lip in retaliation.
"As if you aren't," he grunts-then adds abruptly: "I've changed my mind."
"What?"
Kitayama shakes off Totsuka's grip, pulling out. "On your knees," he orders, and has Totsuka face down in the mattress with a rough shove between the shoulders, cutting off Totsuka's petulant noise: "Back up. Brace yourself."
Totsuka obeys, arms folded above his head, his knees at the edge of the mattress, and Kitayama runs his palm down Totsuka's spine before lining himself back up. Feet firmly planted on the floor, he thrusts back in sharply and Totsuka yelps, knuckles going white in the sheets. Kitayama thrusts again and again, pulling Totsuka into him with a firm grip on his hips. Their thighs slap noisily, punctuating Kitayama's grunts and Totsuka's high, desperate keening.
Kitayama feels the pressure build again fast, Totsuka's voice shooting like electricity through his body, and soon his thrusts become as uneven as his breath, the heat coiled tight in his veins. Totsuka starts to jerk himself off, and Kitayama curls over his back as he feels the edge of his orgasm slip, his hand wrapping around Totsuka's to pull him over the edge as well in a few rough strokes.
…he doesn't remember much of the aftermath, apart from Totsuka hitting him in the face with a pack of baby wipes.
Curled up on the bed, Kitayama only really opens his eyes again when Totsuka starts licking the come from between his fingers, the feel of his tongue making Kitayama groan before he's even quite sure what's going on. But then that stops, and the next time Kitayama looks, Totsuka smiles a cordial smile that he can only see the edge of. Belatedly he realises the condom is gone, and Michael Jackson is surrounded by a small pile of used tissues on the nightstand.
Totsuka pulls the blankets over them both, leaning comfortably back against Kitayama's chest. Absently, Kitayama brushes Totsuka's hair back and kisses his bare nape.
"You're better than Goseki-kun when under the influence, it's true," Totsuka comments-unfairly chipper for someone who's just been fucked, or so Kitayama thinks.
"…is that so," he manages.
"It is," Totsuka affirms. "A drunk Goseki-kun is a giggly and useless Goseki-kun. Yara likes it, but then…" A shrug. "Probably, Yaracchi just likes someone who's worse at half a glass of beer than he is."
"Yaracchi's… pretty bad," Kitayama says. "His tolerance…"
"Mm," Totsuka hums, and Kitayama shifts closer, sliding his arms around Totsuka's waist and resting his head against the back of Totsuka's neck. He lets his eyes slip shut, content and comfortable.
"…Hiromitsu?" Totsuka murmurs quietly, after a beat.
"…hn?" Kitayama says, struggling back barely half awake.
"Merry Christmas," Totsuka tells him.
"No thanks to you," Kitayama mumbles back, unsure he's even audible before he falls asleep.
*
Totsuka's eyes open again before it's even halfway to dawn. Kitayama's warm beside him, snoring softly, and Totsuka shifts a bit. He lets his gaze wander in the dark, hoping sleep will come back to him but it doesn't. He's definitely awake.
With a small sigh, he rolls over and stretches, aching a little.
Presently, his eyes draw to the steady blinking of his phone's little LEDs. Orange-yellow, orange-yellow. New mail.
With nothing else to do, Totsuka pokes his leg out from under the blankets-the night air is cold and he doesn't really want to move-and tries for a while to pick up the little stuffed tiger charm attached to his phone with his toes.
The bell on the tiger's collar tinkles a bit when he finally nabs it, but Kitayama doesn't so much as stir.
There are a handful of messages, and Totsuka replies to them all dutifully: Merry Christmas to you, too!
Until he gets to the bottom of his inbox and, Fujigaya's mass mail-out aside, the first one's from Hashimoto. Totsuka smiles as he types his reply.
shouta.b.c-z@softbank.ne.jp
Christmas is for couples! Why are you sending me your regards?
Hashimoto's reply comes back almost instantly despite the hour.
hasshiridaze..orenj@docomo.ne.jp
Because Tottsu's my favourite
Can I call
shouta.b.c-z@softbank.ne.jp
If you like.
It's not as if Kitayama will wake up, after all.
He's amused when the incoming buzz signals a video connection.
"Good morning, Hasshi," Totsuka says softly.
"Aww… it's dark."
Totsuka chuckles. "Still morning."
"Can you turn on the light?" On screen, Hashimoto's little figure tilts its head. "I can't hardly see you!"
"Not right now," Totsuka says, apologetic.
Hashimoto's silent for a long moment. "…because Christmas is a time for couples?" he asks at last.
Totsuka has to smile. "Not quite, Hasshi, but close enough."
"Fumi said you ditched us for Kitayama-kun," Hashimoto observes. "Are you at his place still?"
"I'm not," Totsuka says, but Hashimoto's face clearly says he doesn't buy the intended lie. "He's over at mine," Totsuka amends. "Sleeping."
"...do you wish you were a couple then?" Hashimoto asks.
"No," Totsuka says automatically, defensive despite himself at the miniature interrogation. But thinking about his answer, he realises it's true enough. Things for now are fine the way they are. He smiles, eyes softening. "I don't."
"Hmm," Hashimoto says, unconvinced though Totsuka knows he won't press the issue. Not now. "Well, okay. S'long as you're fine."
"I am," Totsuka tells him, tells himself. "Merry Christmas, Hasshi. Make sure the others let you get enough sleep, alright?"
"Tsuka-chan's making sure it," Hashimoto assures. "Merry Christmas to you, too, Tottsu."
With a soft smile, Totsuka kisses his fingertips and presses them briefly to the screen before it goes dark. "I'll see you later."
extrapolated from these four drabbles at je100, and came to be after mousapelli wrote this in continuation. ♥ (and then there were also these four after that.)
...but it didn't turn out as light-hearted or funny. poo.
Title: Kidzuite (Realise)
Who: Kitayama/Totsuka, fail Totsuka/Hashimoto
What: NC-17; 3600w ←NOT BECAUSE IT HAS A PLOT. /SHAME. BECAUSE IT DOES NOT.
Notes: "I really just need so much more Kitayama/Totsuka. Also I need DJ to go on writing this sequence of events."-Mousi. Also, Courier is English.
"You'll come back to my place, won't you?" Totsuka asks slyly when they've had enough ramen and beer with coke, scotch, and salted peanuts to last through at least one nuclear winter. He smiles as if it's been his idea all along. "My parents are in Kobe 'til Saturday. You know you want to~"
"You know you want me to," Kitayama smirks back, more than willing but not exactly at his brightest. He follows the path Totsuka picks from their swivelling bar stools to the front of the izakaya. "Make it worth my while?"
"I promise you won't have to see your mother naked if you come?" Totsuka pays for his share at the counter.
Kitayama's brows furrow blankly. "Come, or make you come?" The girl at the register barely hides her snerk, reaching over to help Kitayama with his wallet and change because multitasking is clearly beyond his current skill set.
Thinking is clearly beyond his current skill set, especially when Totsuka smiles over with that playful look in his eyes. "Well, both sound good to me."
Their race home does little to take the edge off Kitayama's light-headed inebriation. Totsuka laughs through the streets, twisting just out of reach every time Kitayama makes a grab for the tails of his long, navy coat. Still, Kitayama gets the last laugh when Totsuka fumbles the key at his front door. They tumble inside and Kitayama tackles Totsuka down over the foyer step.
Nose to nose, Totsuka's brown eyes shine brightly. "Mm~ hey there," he chuckles, breathless from the run and Kitayama's weight on top of him.
"Hey," Kitayama smiles back, and lets himself get tugged into a messy kiss.
A voice three seconds later makes Kitayama jerk back in surprise. (He forgets not every family's as small as his own.) "You'd have done better to at least make it to your room, Sho."
Totsuka grins, his lips pink and wet, and tilts his head back to look at the figure in the hall upside down. "Still here, Nii-san? I guess we got back a bit early."
"A little," Totsuka's brother says dryly, stepping around them to get to the shoe rack. "Anyway, mom left food in the fridge." He pauses. "Have you told our sister she won't be wanting to come back home tonight?"
"Not yet?"
With a noise of annoyance, Totsuka's brother pulls out his cellphone and snaps a succinct picture of the scene (Totsuka flashing a peace-sign; Kitayama looking a little confused). "There," he says after a moment. "Sent."
"Thanks, Nii-san~" Totsuka grins.
"…sorry to trouble you," Kitayama adds, his scotch-fogged brain finally finding his tongue.
Totsuka's brother gives him a long look up and down. "I was going out anyway," he says before shrugging. "Better you than that Goseki creep."
The frank assessment makes Totsuka laugh for a full minute after his brother's shut the front door.
"What's so funny?" Kitayama complains, struggling to get out of his coat in the meantime. "Tell me!"
"Nii-chan liiikes~ you," Totsuka beams, and Kitayama is almost distracted by his flushed cheeks.
"I doubt that," he frowns instead. "Big brothers don't like anybody, just look at Fujigaya-" Giving up on the fight with his loops and toggles, he yanks the jacket off over his head. "-or Koki-kun. And better than Goseki-sama isn't much of a compliment anyway."
Totsuka winks. "Isn't it though? Depends on what you're talking about, right?"
"Don't change the subject," Kitayama says, tugging Totsuka out of his own jacket next. But Totsuka's silence seems smug, and Kitayama feels obliged to add: "Whatever you think he can do, I can do better."
"Well, I know he can do an awful lot," Totsuka grins, looping his arms back around Kitayama's neck. "But you'll give it your best shot I'm sure."
"I'll give you my best shot," Kitayama growls.
Totsuka laughs. "And that's why I'm here and not there~"
"I-" Kitayama pauses. Blinks. "…wait. Your unit spends Christmas together?"
"Hm?" Totsuka tilts his head. "Of course we do."
Kitayama frowns, registering an inconsistency. "Then… shouldn't you be, like… not here?"
"It's okay," Totsuka tells him with a smile. "Christmas comes at least once a week for us. Or maybe just once a month if you only count the times with cake." He strokes his fingers along the back of Kitayama's neck, coaxing Kitayama down 'til their foreheads rest against each other. "But it's been a while since you've asked me out, Hiromitsu."
Kitayama closes his eyes. It's true, but their groups are barely at the jimusho at the same time anymore lately and it's just never been convenient… "I'll make it up to you," he murmurs, brushing a soft kiss over Totsuka's mouth. Totsuka smiles, fingers curling at Kitayama's neck in eloquent reply. His lips part when Kitayama presses further, tongue brushing along Kitayama's own, curling and stroking just lightly enough to work a groan from Kitayama's throat.
"…maybe we should head to your room," Kitayama mutters, his jeans starting to get a little uncomfortable.
Totsuka laughs, but there isn't so much as some floral-scented hand lotion within reach and Kitayama does not approve.
Upstairs, Totsuka's room is the same as Kitayama remembers it, bar a few minor changes: KinKi's new Kinkyu DVD poster is up on the wall now beside Tackey and Tsubasa's old Hatachi one, and Flumpool have joined Asian Kung Fu Generation on the closet.
There's still the creepy little Michael Jackson figurine on the bedside table.
"That thing is worse now that he's dead," Kitayama grumbles, flopping back onto Totsuka's bed so he doesn't have to look at it. "Is your nightstand a shrine or what?"
"It was for a couple of weeks," Totsuka says, climbing into Kitayama's lap, and Kitayama declares Totsuka's type of weird 'unforgivable' as if he's an authority on the matter. (Though Kismai being what it is, he considers himself at least para-professional.)
Amused, Totsuka just threads his fingers back through Kitayama's hair and leans down to distract him with an earnest kind of attention until Kitayama remembers he wanted naked time. He slides his palms up Totsuka's back, under his shirt, tugging on the tee until Totsuka stops with the nips and kisses long enough to let Kitayama pull it up over his head.
Their phones chime simultaneously.
Totsuka ignores his, and looks less than impressed when Kitayama fishes his own out of his back pocket and flips it open (to be fair, it had been vibrating under his ass)-until Kitayama shows him who the message is from.
t.f..xxx@docomo.ne.jp
Veri Merry X'mas, everyone
Early wishes because, like a lot of you I'm sure, I'll be busy at midnight. (笑)
"We're busy right now," Totsuka remarks, just as Kitayama's phone buzzes a second time.
t.f..xxx@docomo.ne.jp
Enjoy your bed, Fattymitsu.
Try not to ruin your mom's night too much.
"That asshole," Kitayama grumbles, typing a quick riposte.
"Remember: at least he isn't fucking your mom," Totsuka shrugs. "Probably."
Kitayama stares at Totsuka's deadpan face for a long moment, brain ticking over, before he clears the screen and sends instead:
kitami2@docomo.ne.jp
where are you??
your not sleeping with my mom, are you?!
"Hey," Totsuka protests, a little put out. And then clearly a lot put out when Fujigaya's reply arrives within seconds and Kitayama goes to message him back again. "Hey." Plucking the phone from Kitayama's hand, Totsuka pops the battery out and drops it to the floor without ceremony. "Pay attention to me," he demands.
"You'd never say that sober," Kitayama accuses, but then Totsuka pins him with strong hands on his shoulders, and gives a slow, deliberate roll of his hips that has Kitayama gritting his teeth against a groan.
"Maybe I'd just think it," Totsuka tells him, his dark stare sending heat racing through Kitayama's veins. "Maybe you should pay attention to me more often."
"Really," Kitayama says-just to be obtuse. He forgets what they're talking anyway about when Totsuka does Kawai's thing with the buttons on Kitayama's shirt and trails his hand down Kitayama's bared chest in consideration.
"Do or die?" Totsuka grins. "You're adorable." His eyes are fond for two seconds before they go wide, as if he's surprised by his own words, but the damage has been done.
Kitayama glares up in annoyance. Totsuka knows being the cute one all the time, the short one, the fat one, is one of Kitayama's pet hates, and is unsurprised when Kitayama flips them over, pinning Totsuka's wrists to the bed. Totsuka grins, moaning softly when Kitayama's fingers dig in deeper.
"You're a tease," Kitayama tells him, voice low and rough as he rocks their hips together.
"Only if I don't put out," Totsuka chuckles, and Kitayama takes that as an open invitation to rid him roughly of the rest of his clothes.
Naked and already half hard, Totsuka stretches out on the bed with a comfortable smile, crossing his wrists above his head completely of his own volition. "Whenever you're ready, Hiromitsu," he says and Kitayama stares, breath caught.
Eventually, he finds his tongue. "Just… keep your hands there."
"If you like." Totsuka obliges, shifting a little to hold onto the top edge of his mattress.
Kitayama does like, he decides, tracing his fingers under the line of Totsuka's jaw and down his neck. Totsuka hums a languid encouragement, and Kitayama leans over to suck lightly at the trail of freckles over Totsuka's collarbone. He works his way further down slowly, with open kisses and light flicks of his tongue that turn Totsuka's steady breath to gasps and whimpers.
Kitayama glances up when he reaches Totsuka's stomach, and Totsuka meets him with glazed eyes, only vaguely curious. "You should put your bar back in," Kitayama says, stroking his thumb over Totsuka's pierced navel. "Fujigaya's is fun."
"Oh…" Totsuka sighs, shifting his weight, "that. It was distracting Hasshi too much." He's clearly distracted himself though, and Kitayama chuckles.
"Kouhai suck. I mean, Ken-chan couldn't dance right for weeks after Nika got his done."
Totsuka tilts his head. "Mm~ but are you sure that was from distraction, Hiromitsu?" Stretching out a leg, he massages pointedly at Kitayama's crotch with his toes. Kitayama grunts, the tightness of his jeans suddenly a lot harder to ignore. "I only ask because Hasshi couldn't dance right for a long time after he joined us, too, but it wasn't always because he had so much to catch up on."
"I don't want to know about that kid," Kitayama grumbles, confiscating the little tube Totsuka's rolling between his fingers.
"He's cuter than Kento," Totsuka says, shifting onto his right flank. He smiles amiably over the line of his shoulder, but Kitayama remains dismissive: "He's taller than Tamamori." Tall and cute are, of course, mutually exclusive in his mind. Totsuka doesn't particularly argue, hiking his knee up and humming as Kitayama coats his fingers with lube. His brain visibly ticks over as the lube warms. One thought at a time. "But that doesn't necessarily mean that short people are cute, you know…"
"Whenever you're ready, Hiromitsu," Totsuka says again with an amused note, and Kitayama figures thinking can wait.
He draws a wet line between Totsuka's cheeks, pressing in, and Totsuka pushes back against his hand almost immediately with a soft moan, "More."
Kitayama obliges, sliding a second finger in, and soon a third. He strokes Totsuka's stomach gently with his free hand, dropping a kiss over his hip and coaxing him to relax as he begins to move his fingers, slowly at first, carefully, watching Totsuka's face for the telltale change from discomfort to desire.
It's there when Totsuka's lips quirk into a smile and he meets Kitayama's eyes, pushing back more insistently against his hand, eyes waxed black and encouraging. Kitayama finger-fucks him harder, and Totsuka's shameless moans dissolve into breathless laughter as Kitayama sucks on the sensitive spot just under his ribs, teasing it with his teeth and tongue until Totsuka tangles a hand in his hair, gasping. "Tickles, Hiromits- oh."
Kitayama smirks and crooks his fingers again, enjoying the shivers through Totsuka's body, and the arch of his back. He trails his other hand up Totsuka's thigh, barely brushing his erection, and Totsuka groans again. "…and you called me a tease."
"I don't know where your condoms are," Kitayama says, "and I still have my pants on."
"Why is that?" Totsuka chuckles, evidently finding something funny about the situation. He pushes Kitayama's hands away-"Deal with yourself."-and wriggles up the bed to tip his Michael Jackson figure over, slipping a couple of thin silver packets out from under its stand.
Kitayama has a bit of trouble with his belt and fly, distracted as he is by Totsuka carefully setting the little statuette right again.
"Why are you so weird with that thing," he complains.
"Why aren't you naked?" Totsuka counters, and Kitayama supposes that's a valid argument by this stage. Totsuka impatiently rids him of his jeans and boxer-briefs.
"Thanks," Kitayama says, sitting back.
"You're useless," Totsuka corrects with a smile, giving Kitayama a few firm strokes before rolling the condom on. Kitayama groans at the pressure of his hands and the thought of fucking Totsuka that hard, that roughly. He pulls Totsuka into a fierce kiss, hand tight in Totsuka's hair, sucking at Totsuka's mouth and stealing all the little noises Totsuka makes in the back of his throat.
He pulls back with one last suck on Totsuka's tongue, the both of them breathing hard.
"Tell me how you want me," Totsuka demands softly, lips thick and red, and the words go straight to Kitayama's cock.
"Like this, right now," he says without hesitation.
Totsuka chuckles softly but straddles Kitayama's lap without complaint, hands braced on Kitayama's shoulders. Kitayama strokes himself and guides Totsuka onto him. Totsuka's body is tight and hot and he lowers himself down torturously slow. Kitayama grits his teeth and keeps his hips determinedly still. There's still tension in Totsuka's back-though not enough to make Kitayama believe he isn't half teasing again, especially not when he combs one hand through Kitayama's hair gently like they have all the time in the world.
"…tease," Kitayama grumbles, voice tight with Totsuka seated snug in his lap; in response, Totsuka shifts a little and flexes around him and Kitayama bites back a groan. "You aren't not ready. You can't not be ready." He's not sure if it's statement, accusation or desperation.
"Don't rush me," Totsuka grins, and Kitayama growls.
"Tottsu…"
For a long moment Totsuka says nothing, his fingers drawing small circles at Kitayama's nape. But at length, he smiles a different smile. "Just kidding." And laughs when Kitayama shoves him back by the shoulders in exasperation.
Kitayama doesn't say anything after that, hitching Totsuka's legs up and fucking him into the mattress. Totsuka makes enough noise for both of them anyway, moaning shamelessly. "Mm~ harder, Hiromitsu, please." His breath catches on each of Kitayama's thrusts, dark hair splaying out as he tosses his head, and Kitayama grits his teeth at the sight. His grip tightens on Totsuka's hips, and he sees Totsuka's fingers curl tighter in the sheets in response.
"Hiromitsu," Totsuka gasps, again and again. "Hiromitsu, ah."
His mouth is slick and pink, and when Kitayama leans down to kiss him again Totsuka shifts his grip to keep him close with an arm around his neck. It's harder to move this way and Kitayama makes a noise of frustration, but Totsuka only smiles against his mouth and clenches his muscles in time with Kitayama's thrusts. A groan tears from Kitayama's throat at the tightness of it.
"Close," he grits, feeling the familiar slow burn coiling in him.
Totsuka still has the presence of mind to laugh, caressing Kitayama's cheek and kissing him lightly. "We need to do this again when you're not three sheets to the wind," he teases, and Kitayama bites at his lip in retaliation.
"As if you aren't," he grunts-then adds abruptly: "I've changed my mind."
"What?"
Kitayama shakes off Totsuka's grip, pulling out. "On your knees," he orders, and has Totsuka face down in the mattress with a rough shove between the shoulders, cutting off Totsuka's petulant noise: "Back up. Brace yourself."
Totsuka obeys, arms folded above his head, his knees at the edge of the mattress, and Kitayama runs his palm down Totsuka's spine before lining himself back up. Feet firmly planted on the floor, he thrusts back in sharply and Totsuka yelps, knuckles going white in the sheets. Kitayama thrusts again and again, pulling Totsuka into him with a firm grip on his hips. Their thighs slap noisily, punctuating Kitayama's grunts and Totsuka's high, desperate keening.
Kitayama feels the pressure build again fast, Totsuka's voice shooting like electricity through his body, and soon his thrusts become as uneven as his breath, the heat coiled tight in his veins. Totsuka starts to jerk himself off, and Kitayama curls over his back as he feels the edge of his orgasm slip, his hand wrapping around Totsuka's to pull him over the edge as well in a few rough strokes.
…he doesn't remember much of the aftermath, apart from Totsuka hitting him in the face with a pack of baby wipes.
Curled up on the bed, Kitayama only really opens his eyes again when Totsuka starts licking the come from between his fingers, the feel of his tongue making Kitayama groan before he's even quite sure what's going on. But then that stops, and the next time Kitayama looks, Totsuka smiles a cordial smile that he can only see the edge of. Belatedly he realises the condom is gone, and Michael Jackson is surrounded by a small pile of used tissues on the nightstand.
Totsuka pulls the blankets over them both, leaning comfortably back against Kitayama's chest. Absently, Kitayama brushes Totsuka's hair back and kisses his bare nape.
"You're better than Goseki-kun when under the influence, it's true," Totsuka comments-unfairly chipper for someone who's just been fucked, or so Kitayama thinks.
"…is that so," he manages.
"It is," Totsuka affirms. "A drunk Goseki-kun is a giggly and useless Goseki-kun. Yara likes it, but then…" A shrug. "Probably, Yaracchi just likes someone who's worse at half a glass of beer than he is."
"Yaracchi's… pretty bad," Kitayama says. "His tolerance…"
"Mm," Totsuka hums, and Kitayama shifts closer, sliding his arms around Totsuka's waist and resting his head against the back of Totsuka's neck. He lets his eyes slip shut, content and comfortable.
"…Hiromitsu?" Totsuka murmurs quietly, after a beat.
"…hn?" Kitayama says, struggling back barely half awake.
"Merry Christmas," Totsuka tells him.
"No thanks to you," Kitayama mumbles back, unsure he's even audible before he falls asleep.
*
Totsuka's eyes open again before it's even halfway to dawn. Kitayama's warm beside him, snoring softly, and Totsuka shifts a bit. He lets his gaze wander in the dark, hoping sleep will come back to him but it doesn't. He's definitely awake.
With a small sigh, he rolls over and stretches, aching a little.
Presently, his eyes draw to the steady blinking of his phone's little LEDs. Orange-yellow, orange-yellow. New mail.
With nothing else to do, Totsuka pokes his leg out from under the blankets-the night air is cold and he doesn't really want to move-and tries for a while to pick up the little stuffed tiger charm attached to his phone with his toes.
The bell on the tiger's collar tinkles a bit when he finally nabs it, but Kitayama doesn't so much as stir.
There are a handful of messages, and Totsuka replies to them all dutifully: Merry Christmas to you, too!
Until he gets to the bottom of his inbox and, Fujigaya's mass mail-out aside, the first one's from Hashimoto. Totsuka smiles as he types his reply.
shouta.b.c-z@softbank.ne.jp
Christmas is for couples! Why are you sending me your regards?
Hashimoto's reply comes back almost instantly despite the hour.
hasshiridaze..orenj@docomo.ne.jp
Because Tottsu's my favourite
Can I call
shouta.b.c-z@softbank.ne.jp
If you like.
It's not as if Kitayama will wake up, after all.
He's amused when the incoming buzz signals a video connection.
"Good morning, Hasshi," Totsuka says softly.
"Aww… it's dark."
Totsuka chuckles. "Still morning."
"Can you turn on the light?" On screen, Hashimoto's little figure tilts its head. "I can't hardly see you!"
"Not right now," Totsuka says, apologetic.
Hashimoto's silent for a long moment. "…because Christmas is a time for couples?" he asks at last.
Totsuka has to smile. "Not quite, Hasshi, but close enough."
"Fumi said you ditched us for Kitayama-kun," Hashimoto observes. "Are you at his place still?"
"I'm not," Totsuka says, but Hashimoto's face clearly says he doesn't buy the intended lie. "He's over at mine," Totsuka amends. "Sleeping."
"...do you wish you were a couple then?" Hashimoto asks.
"No," Totsuka says automatically, defensive despite himself at the miniature interrogation. But thinking about his answer, he realises it's true enough. Things for now are fine the way they are. He smiles, eyes softening. "I don't."
"Hmm," Hashimoto says, unconvinced though Totsuka knows he won't press the issue. Not now. "Well, okay. S'long as you're fine."
"I am," Totsuka tells him, tells himself. "Merry Christmas, Hasshi. Make sure the others let you get enough sleep, alright?"
"Tsuka-chan's making sure it," Hashimoto assures. "Merry Christmas to you, too, Tottsu."
With a soft smile, Totsuka kisses his fingertips and presses them briefly to the screen before it goes dark. "I'll see you later."