i should have posted this earlier orz
Title: And the candle bows out
Pairing: NaKame
Word Count: 2k
Rating: PG13
A/N: So this kind of fic is very new for me... It was supposed to be a drabble but knowing me, that never works out so there will likely be a continuation to it… um. ˚‧⁺(͘๑̊/﹏\)⁺‧˚
Summary: Nakamaru receives a surprise for his birthday.
He gets the text just before he steps onto the set for Shuuichi.
Happy Birthday, Fossil-kun, it reads.
Nakamaru allows himself a second to smile at the three red hearts trailing after before he silences his phone and slips it into his pocket.
He doesn’t meet Kame that day or the following days after. It’s the reality of their schedules that keeps them apart and Nakamaru wonders if it’s a sign of having truly grown up that he doesn’t grow anxious by the silence on the other end. Instead, he grows curious, a seductive anticipation tightening in his belly when he thinks of the moment they do meet.
Even when he doesn’t have time, Kame always has a plan. He has the dreadfully romantic habit of making up for special occasions one way or another and while Nakamaru discourages him as much as he can because he isn’t built for grand, showy gestures the way Kame is, he’s grown to look forward to them year after year.
It might not even be a stretch to say he would be disappointed without them.
Last year it was a surprise trip to the islands, the year before that Kame tricked him into a moonlit picnic on the grounds of Nakamaru’s old high school. And the year before, Kame had fed Nakamaru a strawberry from his birthday cake in front of thousands of fans.
This September has them busier than usual so when Nakamaru finally hears from Kame, a teasing, I have something for you blinking at him from his phone, he knows he won’t be kidnapped and swept away for the tropics. He drives home with his heart speeding along and his hands tightening over the wheels at every red light. In the end, he doesn’t care; all he needs is Kame, warm and welcoming and everywhere.
He expects a trail of rose petals leading towards the bedroom, perhaps coupled with a date at a luxurious five-star restaurant with a strings quartet playing off to the side. When the keys slip in his hands and he manages to open the door at last, the petals are there and they’re enough to make his mouth go dry.
“I’m home,” he calls out, voice thick. He doesn’t really expect an answer, knows that Kame wants the suspense to drive him mad. He loosens his tie and follows the trail with padded steps until he arrives at his bedroom and stops, his hand gripping at the doorway.
Kame is perched on his bed in his favourite, fluffy, midnight blue bathrobe that swallows him whole. His hair is wet and his face is pink with warmth just as his equally pink feet that poke out from below. The room is dim and it feels like the only light source is Kame’s smile alone. It makes Nakamaru’s insides double over. It’s been too long. Much too long.
“I couldn’t find your candles,” Kame says, even though Nakamaru is more the type to carry match sticks than candles and they both know it. Nakamaru would kiss his voice if he could.
He tries to remove his jacket in a way that’s artful, if not alluring, and feels himself grow hot under Kame’s gaze. He’s used to the morning breath, the soft snores, the squabbles about which utensil goes in which drawer in the kitchen. But not the looks. Never the undivided attention. The thirst. It’s the one thing that time hasn’t changed, how Nakamaru still slips and fumbles under so much honest want.
The room is silent yet screaming with a static that Nakamaru can feel on his skin as he turns to hang his jacket on the doorknob. The walk to the closet seems too much right now, too unnecessary.
He turns and steps towards Kame with a broad grin. “You came unprepared.” He has to take it back when his eyes land on a plain black box the size of his hand sitting in the middle of the snowy bed sheets.
He melts into a smile when he meets Kame’s eyes, his voice dropping low of his own accord. “My belated birthday present?”
Kame twinkles back at him. “I thought it’d be a little cheap to give you only me.”
Nakamaru laughs. The absurdity of Kame being associated with anything cheap when he could likely auction off a lock of his hair for a small fortune. Nakamaru steps forward and runs his hand through it just because he can, because he’s missed it and it’s been too long. Kame leans his head back under the ministration of his fingers and lets out a noise that’s half moan and half purr, and that’s all it takes for Nakamaru to bend down and swallow the sound.
The kiss is sweet and meandering, a prologue.
Nakamaru inhales the scent of Kame’s shampoo as he pulls away.
“You should open it.”
Kame’s eyes flicker away, an almost sort of… nervous lick at his lips and-oh, this is curious. Nakamaru grins to himself before pressing his lips to Kame’s forehead and reaching for the box.
It’s light, most likely hiding an expensive piece of jewellery, although Nakamaru doesn’t understand why Kame would be worried about his reception. They had different tastes but Kame knew his, knew what complimented him better than Nakamaru himself. The idea of a promise ring or a pairing accessory pushes its way through momentarily before Nakamaru lifts the lid and all of that vanishes.
For a second, Nakamaru is confused. It looks like a bracelet, only, Nakamaru realises as he plucks it from the box, it’s too big for his wrist. It’s made of black leather about three quarters of an inch wide and rests heavy in his palm. There’s a buckle and notches that allow for adjustment and a few more seconds of head tilting inspection later, a revelation follows with a lurch of panic.
He turns to Kame with wide, unbelieving eyes and a no at the ready and finds Kame watching him carefully, his face calm and eyes dark. This isn’t what Nakamaru was expecting, this isn’t what he wanted-
Kame’s fingers find a grip around the pulse of his wrist before Nakamaru can balk and drop the collar onto the bed.
“It’s not for you,” Kame says firmly, the familiar determination evident in everything from his posture to the heavy, heated focus of his gaze.
It takes Nakamaru a long moment before he catches on.
This time, the panic is accompanied by a quick, sizzling thrill that Nakamaru tries to strangle and choke at once-choke. A Collar. Suddenly Nakamaru wants to laugh at this beautifully orchestrated joke. Collar? Nice one, Kame.
“Yucchi? Just,” Kame says with a small frown, “calm down for a second.”
“I am calm,” Nakamaru returns swiftly and Kame’s frown deepens.
“You’re breathing funny.”
It’s true, Nakamaru realises, and he makes a conscious effort to slow his breaths.
“That fits then, since this is all one big joke.” Right? He searches Kame’s face and there’s no twitch, no jump in Kame’s cheeks to suggest you got me, Yucchi! Nakamaru twists his hand out of Kame’s grip and the guilt washes over him instantly as Kame’s face falls.
“We should at least try it-”
“I’ll pass.” Nakamaru places the collar back in the box and closes the lid, and then sits there not knowing what to do with it. As poorly chosen as it was, it was a gift after all, a gift from Kame. He couldn’t just return it.
The bed dips as Kame leans close, his hair curling as it dries and his eyes probing Nakamaru to look up even though he knows it’s a trap.
“Why?” Kame asks softly, coaxingly, “You won’t be the one wearing it. I’ll let you strap it on me, as loose or as tight as you want. I promise. Please, Yucchi, I want you to…”
Nakamaru shivers despite himself as Kame’s breath tickles his ear.
He swallows. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Hmm?” Kame says and Nakamaru can hear his smile as Kame’s nose digs behind his ear and follows the line of his jaw. “I only have your pleasure in mind.”
His eyes are fluttering shut from the assault on his neck when he feels the box ease out of his grip, and he sits up straight, his eyelids flying open as he tracks down the box now in Kame’s hand. Kame’s eyebrows rise into his hair, an amused smile curling his lips.
“I guess I’ve grown a little rusty if you’re able to recover so fast.”
“It’s not-I don’t want-can’t we just continue with, you know,” Nakamaru asks, helplessly aroused, “what you were doing? We don’t need that. This. This is better.”
They stare at each other for a moment and more than ten years of experience has taught him that Kame doesn’t stop until he succeeds, which is why Nakamaru blinks in surprise when he sees Kame reach over and place the box on the nightstand.
“Don’t look so relieved,” Kame laughs and the bed dips again under their combined weight, Kame’s hand landing on his chest and easing him to lie down on his back. Nakamaru complies easily. The lamp light turns the outline of Kame’s hair gold, his face an entrancing puzzle of shadows and features Nakamaru knows by heart.
“This isn’t over. I’m only letting you back out because it’s your birthday,” Kame explains and climbs over him, one leg on either side.
Nakamaru chuckles, hearing the rasp in his own voice. “That was a week ago.”
Kame’s smile is liquid as he sits down just where Nakamaru needs him to, a gasp lurching from his throat.
“I know. Truth is, I have more pressing,” a roll of his hips and Nakamaru hisses and squeezes Kame’s thighs through the soft fabric of his bathrobe, “issues to attend to. Getting you to snap that collar on me can wait until later. I’ve missed you too much.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Nakamaru gasps, not caring about the after when he doesn’t have enough control to keep together in the present, not with Kame’s lips returning to his neck. “Sounds good. F-feels good.”
“All’s good,” Kame laughs into his neck and Nakamaru winds his arms around his waist and up around his shoulders, pulling him down and close until he falls against Nakamaru’s chest. They lay like that for a peaceful stretch of time that could last for eternity if Nakamaru was so lucky, until Kame’s voice pokes tentatively at the quiet, “Yucchi?”
Nakamaru closes his eyes and breathes Kame’s clean, soapy scent, feels the full of his warm, heavy weight and the shape of him in his arms. He’s missed all of this, all of Kame, so much.
“Yucchi?” Kame says again, this time lifting up a bit to look down at Nakamaru’s face with a curious tilt of his head. “Falling asleep?”
“Hey,” he returns with a poke in Kame’s side, “I’m not that old yet.”
Kame’s laugh is loud and wide and their second kiss lasts longer, though just as sweet.
“Welcome back,” Nakamaru whispers and Kame kisses him again.
“Happy birthday to you.”
(tbc. possibly. cough.)
Pairing: NaKame
Word Count: 2k
Rating: PG13
A/N: So this kind of fic is very new for me... It was supposed to be a drabble but knowing me, that never works out so there will likely be a continuation to it… um. ˚‧⁺(͘๑̊/﹏\)⁺‧˚
Summary: Nakamaru receives a surprise for his birthday.
He gets the text just before he steps onto the set for Shuuichi.
Happy Birthday, Fossil-kun, it reads.
Nakamaru allows himself a second to smile at the three red hearts trailing after before he silences his phone and slips it into his pocket.
He doesn’t meet Kame that day or the following days after. It’s the reality of their schedules that keeps them apart and Nakamaru wonders if it’s a sign of having truly grown up that he doesn’t grow anxious by the silence on the other end. Instead, he grows curious, a seductive anticipation tightening in his belly when he thinks of the moment they do meet.
Even when he doesn’t have time, Kame always has a plan. He has the dreadfully romantic habit of making up for special occasions one way or another and while Nakamaru discourages him as much as he can because he isn’t built for grand, showy gestures the way Kame is, he’s grown to look forward to them year after year.
It might not even be a stretch to say he would be disappointed without them.
Last year it was a surprise trip to the islands, the year before that Kame tricked him into a moonlit picnic on the grounds of Nakamaru’s old high school. And the year before, Kame had fed Nakamaru a strawberry from his birthday cake in front of thousands of fans.
This September has them busier than usual so when Nakamaru finally hears from Kame, a teasing, I have something for you blinking at him from his phone, he knows he won’t be kidnapped and swept away for the tropics. He drives home with his heart speeding along and his hands tightening over the wheels at every red light. In the end, he doesn’t care; all he needs is Kame, warm and welcoming and everywhere.
He expects a trail of rose petals leading towards the bedroom, perhaps coupled with a date at a luxurious five-star restaurant with a strings quartet playing off to the side. When the keys slip in his hands and he manages to open the door at last, the petals are there and they’re enough to make his mouth go dry.
“I’m home,” he calls out, voice thick. He doesn’t really expect an answer, knows that Kame wants the suspense to drive him mad. He loosens his tie and follows the trail with padded steps until he arrives at his bedroom and stops, his hand gripping at the doorway.
Kame is perched on his bed in his favourite, fluffy, midnight blue bathrobe that swallows him whole. His hair is wet and his face is pink with warmth just as his equally pink feet that poke out from below. The room is dim and it feels like the only light source is Kame’s smile alone. It makes Nakamaru’s insides double over. It’s been too long. Much too long.
“I couldn’t find your candles,” Kame says, even though Nakamaru is more the type to carry match sticks than candles and they both know it. Nakamaru would kiss his voice if he could.
He tries to remove his jacket in a way that’s artful, if not alluring, and feels himself grow hot under Kame’s gaze. He’s used to the morning breath, the soft snores, the squabbles about which utensil goes in which drawer in the kitchen. But not the looks. Never the undivided attention. The thirst. It’s the one thing that time hasn’t changed, how Nakamaru still slips and fumbles under so much honest want.
The room is silent yet screaming with a static that Nakamaru can feel on his skin as he turns to hang his jacket on the doorknob. The walk to the closet seems too much right now, too unnecessary.
He turns and steps towards Kame with a broad grin. “You came unprepared.” He has to take it back when his eyes land on a plain black box the size of his hand sitting in the middle of the snowy bed sheets.
He melts into a smile when he meets Kame’s eyes, his voice dropping low of his own accord. “My belated birthday present?”
Kame twinkles back at him. “I thought it’d be a little cheap to give you only me.”
Nakamaru laughs. The absurdity of Kame being associated with anything cheap when he could likely auction off a lock of his hair for a small fortune. Nakamaru steps forward and runs his hand through it just because he can, because he’s missed it and it’s been too long. Kame leans his head back under the ministration of his fingers and lets out a noise that’s half moan and half purr, and that’s all it takes for Nakamaru to bend down and swallow the sound.
The kiss is sweet and meandering, a prologue.
Nakamaru inhales the scent of Kame’s shampoo as he pulls away.
“You should open it.”
Kame’s eyes flicker away, an almost sort of… nervous lick at his lips and-oh, this is curious. Nakamaru grins to himself before pressing his lips to Kame’s forehead and reaching for the box.
It’s light, most likely hiding an expensive piece of jewellery, although Nakamaru doesn’t understand why Kame would be worried about his reception. They had different tastes but Kame knew his, knew what complimented him better than Nakamaru himself. The idea of a promise ring or a pairing accessory pushes its way through momentarily before Nakamaru lifts the lid and all of that vanishes.
For a second, Nakamaru is confused. It looks like a bracelet, only, Nakamaru realises as he plucks it from the box, it’s too big for his wrist. It’s made of black leather about three quarters of an inch wide and rests heavy in his palm. There’s a buckle and notches that allow for adjustment and a few more seconds of head tilting inspection later, a revelation follows with a lurch of panic.
He turns to Kame with wide, unbelieving eyes and a no at the ready and finds Kame watching him carefully, his face calm and eyes dark. This isn’t what Nakamaru was expecting, this isn’t what he wanted-
Kame’s fingers find a grip around the pulse of his wrist before Nakamaru can balk and drop the collar onto the bed.
“It’s not for you,” Kame says firmly, the familiar determination evident in everything from his posture to the heavy, heated focus of his gaze.
It takes Nakamaru a long moment before he catches on.
This time, the panic is accompanied by a quick, sizzling thrill that Nakamaru tries to strangle and choke at once-choke. A Collar. Suddenly Nakamaru wants to laugh at this beautifully orchestrated joke. Collar? Nice one, Kame.
“Yucchi? Just,” Kame says with a small frown, “calm down for a second.”
“I am calm,” Nakamaru returns swiftly and Kame’s frown deepens.
“You’re breathing funny.”
It’s true, Nakamaru realises, and he makes a conscious effort to slow his breaths.
“That fits then, since this is all one big joke.” Right? He searches Kame’s face and there’s no twitch, no jump in Kame’s cheeks to suggest you got me, Yucchi! Nakamaru twists his hand out of Kame’s grip and the guilt washes over him instantly as Kame’s face falls.
“We should at least try it-”
“I’ll pass.” Nakamaru places the collar back in the box and closes the lid, and then sits there not knowing what to do with it. As poorly chosen as it was, it was a gift after all, a gift from Kame. He couldn’t just return it.
The bed dips as Kame leans close, his hair curling as it dries and his eyes probing Nakamaru to look up even though he knows it’s a trap.
“Why?” Kame asks softly, coaxingly, “You won’t be the one wearing it. I’ll let you strap it on me, as loose or as tight as you want. I promise. Please, Yucchi, I want you to…”
Nakamaru shivers despite himself as Kame’s breath tickles his ear.
He swallows. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Hmm?” Kame says and Nakamaru can hear his smile as Kame’s nose digs behind his ear and follows the line of his jaw. “I only have your pleasure in mind.”
His eyes are fluttering shut from the assault on his neck when he feels the box ease out of his grip, and he sits up straight, his eyelids flying open as he tracks down the box now in Kame’s hand. Kame’s eyebrows rise into his hair, an amused smile curling his lips.
“I guess I’ve grown a little rusty if you’re able to recover so fast.”
“It’s not-I don’t want-can’t we just continue with, you know,” Nakamaru asks, helplessly aroused, “what you were doing? We don’t need that. This. This is better.”
They stare at each other for a moment and more than ten years of experience has taught him that Kame doesn’t stop until he succeeds, which is why Nakamaru blinks in surprise when he sees Kame reach over and place the box on the nightstand.
“Don’t look so relieved,” Kame laughs and the bed dips again under their combined weight, Kame’s hand landing on his chest and easing him to lie down on his back. Nakamaru complies easily. The lamp light turns the outline of Kame’s hair gold, his face an entrancing puzzle of shadows and features Nakamaru knows by heart.
“This isn’t over. I’m only letting you back out because it’s your birthday,” Kame explains and climbs over him, one leg on either side.
Nakamaru chuckles, hearing the rasp in his own voice. “That was a week ago.”
Kame’s smile is liquid as he sits down just where Nakamaru needs him to, a gasp lurching from his throat.
“I know. Truth is, I have more pressing,” a roll of his hips and Nakamaru hisses and squeezes Kame’s thighs through the soft fabric of his bathrobe, “issues to attend to. Getting you to snap that collar on me can wait until later. I’ve missed you too much.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Nakamaru gasps, not caring about the after when he doesn’t have enough control to keep together in the present, not with Kame’s lips returning to his neck. “Sounds good. F-feels good.”
“All’s good,” Kame laughs into his neck and Nakamaru winds his arms around his waist and up around his shoulders, pulling him down and close until he falls against Nakamaru’s chest. They lay like that for a peaceful stretch of time that could last for eternity if Nakamaru was so lucky, until Kame’s voice pokes tentatively at the quiet, “Yucchi?”
Nakamaru closes his eyes and breathes Kame’s clean, soapy scent, feels the full of his warm, heavy weight and the shape of him in his arms. He’s missed all of this, all of Kame, so much.
“Yucchi?” Kame says again, this time lifting up a bit to look down at Nakamaru’s face with a curious tilt of his head. “Falling asleep?”
“Hey,” he returns with a poke in Kame’s side, “I’m not that old yet.”
Kame’s laugh is loud and wide and their second kiss lasts longer, though just as sweet.
“Welcome back,” Nakamaru whispers and Kame kisses him again.
“Happy birthday to you.”
(tbc. possibly. cough.)