[SMAPfic] Dirty
→ I swear the title is not a blatant one-word summary sorry?
Dirty
Nakai wakes up with an arm across his face. He tries to move it away, but it won’t move. He pokes it experimentally with his finger and he can’t feel anything. He wonders if it’s possible that his arm died overnight and now he will be condemned to live the rest of his life with a dead arm hanging from his right shoulder. He thinks it’s slightly funny, but not really.
The dead arm is weighing down his face and he can’t see anything, so with his left hand he pushes it to rest on his chest. Strangely, the tanned arm doesn’t match his pale skin. It’s only then that he realises it’s Kimura’s arm, while his own is immobilised under Kimura’s back. Oh lovely.
He manages to wrestle himself free and not wake Kimura up and he moves his arm around trying to gain the feeling back, while drunken images from last night start to float painstakingly into his head. Oh. Oh. He now remembers the bed sheets rolling uncomfortably under his back, he remembers biting down on his lip until it hurt, Kimura above him, moaning and cursing and doing all sorts of things that felt real good.
What bothers him is that he can’t remember anything after that, and he has a growing suspicion there was nothing after that. They just fell asleep. Without shower, without even cleaning themselves up. That would explain why he’s naked (because the fact that Kimura is naked is quite normal). Horrified, Nakai struggles to sit up and he can feel all his limbs are sticky, dirty, greasy, rough and maybe he’s imagining it, but there’s something dried on his stomach and his hand lands on a spot on the bed where he is sure there is a stain of something too and not to even mention- Oh god. His butt.
All the filth of the world is burning through his skin.
He hops out of the dirty, sticky bed and limps to the bathroom, because he just knows if he doesn’t take a shower right now, he is going to die. Besides, nothing slaps the first greedy hands of a hangover quite as well as a shower. He’s always believed in showers. Showers are his best friends.
Half an hour later, Nakai comes back to the bedroom, clean, dressed and in a much better mental state. Kimura is still asleep in the messy, dirty bed sheets. Eww, if it doesn’t make Nakai shiver a little. He leans down and brushes the long strands of hair off Kimura’s face.
Kimura is not so very asleep after all.
“Let’s fuck,” is his take on Good morning as he wraps an arm around Nakai’s neck and pulls him on top of himself.
He smells.
“Shower,” Nakai says as he braces himself with both hands on the sides of the pillow.
“Come on,” Kimura says.
“Shower,” Nakai repeats.
Kimura’s personal hygiene is not his problem, but Kimura is his problem as long as he is lying in his bed, preventing Nakai from changing the sheets. Some wrestling (and maybe a tiny pinch of hair pulling) later, he makes Kimura get up and drags him straight to the bathroom. He pushes him into the shower and turns the water on, which efficiently drowns Kimura’s whining.
Satisfied, Nakai turns to leave.
“At least join me?” comes Kimura’s rough voice.
Nakai considers. He’s just showered, but then again, you can never have enough showers, ever.
And with the way he can see the water dripping down Kimura’s body, he thinks showers are really his best friends.
“Just don’t kiss me on the mouth,” he warns, beginning to undress. “You haven’t brushed your teeth.”
xxx
Dirty
Nakai wakes up with an arm across his face. He tries to move it away, but it won’t move. He pokes it experimentally with his finger and he can’t feel anything. He wonders if it’s possible that his arm died overnight and now he will be condemned to live the rest of his life with a dead arm hanging from his right shoulder. He thinks it’s slightly funny, but not really.
The dead arm is weighing down his face and he can’t see anything, so with his left hand he pushes it to rest on his chest. Strangely, the tanned arm doesn’t match his pale skin. It’s only then that he realises it’s Kimura’s arm, while his own is immobilised under Kimura’s back. Oh lovely.
He manages to wrestle himself free and not wake Kimura up and he moves his arm around trying to gain the feeling back, while drunken images from last night start to float painstakingly into his head. Oh. Oh. He now remembers the bed sheets rolling uncomfortably under his back, he remembers biting down on his lip until it hurt, Kimura above him, moaning and cursing and doing all sorts of things that felt real good.
What bothers him is that he can’t remember anything after that, and he has a growing suspicion there was nothing after that. They just fell asleep. Without shower, without even cleaning themselves up. That would explain why he’s naked (because the fact that Kimura is naked is quite normal). Horrified, Nakai struggles to sit up and he can feel all his limbs are sticky, dirty, greasy, rough and maybe he’s imagining it, but there’s something dried on his stomach and his hand lands on a spot on the bed where he is sure there is a stain of something too and not to even mention- Oh god. His butt.
All the filth of the world is burning through his skin.
He hops out of the dirty, sticky bed and limps to the bathroom, because he just knows if he doesn’t take a shower right now, he is going to die. Besides, nothing slaps the first greedy hands of a hangover quite as well as a shower. He’s always believed in showers. Showers are his best friends.
Half an hour later, Nakai comes back to the bedroom, clean, dressed and in a much better mental state. Kimura is still asleep in the messy, dirty bed sheets. Eww, if it doesn’t make Nakai shiver a little. He leans down and brushes the long strands of hair off Kimura’s face.
Kimura is not so very asleep after all.
“Let’s fuck,” is his take on Good morning as he wraps an arm around Nakai’s neck and pulls him on top of himself.
He smells.
“Shower,” Nakai says as he braces himself with both hands on the sides of the pillow.
“Come on,” Kimura says.
“Shower,” Nakai repeats.
Kimura’s personal hygiene is not his problem, but Kimura is his problem as long as he is lying in his bed, preventing Nakai from changing the sheets. Some wrestling (and maybe a tiny pinch of hair pulling) later, he makes Kimura get up and drags him straight to the bathroom. He pushes him into the shower and turns the water on, which efficiently drowns Kimura’s whining.
Satisfied, Nakai turns to leave.
“At least join me?” comes Kimura’s rough voice.
Nakai considers. He’s just showered, but then again, you can never have enough showers, ever.
And with the way he can see the water dripping down Kimura’s body, he thinks showers are really his best friends.
“Just don’t kiss me on the mouth,” he warns, beginning to undress. “You haven’t brushed your teeth.”
xxx