30 Day OTP Challenge [Minifics] - Day 25-30
I'm sorry this took so long. But first my friend had life getting in the way, then me, and we're in this together. But NOW. We are done. We did it. Only a splendid 17 days late lol. I must also say I did write all the way until 28 on time, but then... yeah. I even wrote valentine on valentines. (And 29 is my birthday date so it was fun it was on that number. And I wrote angst what)
All in all, this was fun. BUT. Challenging. I can't say how many times I wished I had chosen another otp but. I really like these two so I'm happy I now have 30 more stories about them.
25. Gazing into each other's eyes - PG, uni party AU aka alcohol - 1090 words
Kento spills half his shot over his jeans when he starts swallowing just to realize there's liquorice in it. He coughs and puts the tiny glass down on the table, glaring at the guy who poured them, who happens to be the husband of the party host.
“What the hell was that?” He gets out, leaning over the girl next to him for Shori's drink that's mostly soda to try and get rid of the taste. “Gross.”
“Kento, did you just pour it all over yourself?” Juri calls loudly, drunk enough to have no control over the volume of his voice. “That's alcohol abuse! Lick it up from your jeans!”
“Fuck that.” Kento replies, making a face because the lingering taste won't go away even with sugar and carbonic acid.
Soda tastes pretty good after 4,5 shots in way too short time though. Whoever had the idea of
Welcome Shots whenever someone new arrived should be crossed off his friend list, he thinks, because he's starting to feel more than pleasantly drunk and it's not even 11.
It's one of those parties that were planned during another party, as university students tend to do, and Kento doesn't really know the host of it. They were just at the same party when the event was created and so everyone was invited. It's an actual house, but she's roughly thirty and her husband works a good job, so it's not that surprising. That's the best part about university, Kento thinks. Nobody cares how old anyone is. Besides, the host is currently playing beerpong on the kitchen table with a sparkly sombrero on her head.
The place is packed with people, some he knows and most he doesn't know, and everyone is more or less drunk already because why not. He's actually a little worried about Shori, who's drinking much faster than Kento's ever seen him do due to the Welcome Shots, but he seems fine for now, grinning and chatting with the girls around him.
“I'm having a smoke.” Kento announces, because that's the only thing he can think of that could get the lingering liquorice off his tongue.
“As long as you do it outside!” The husband calls cheerfully, then asks if anyone wants to try this other liquor he's got in his secret hidings, something super strong from China.
Kento figures that's fair, and manages to get up from his seat squished into the couch and past everyone around the table without either falling or knocking something over.
What proves most difficult is finding his shoes in the myriad of heels and boots just inside the door, and he's almost decided to give up and just take a pair when he finally finds them.
His jacket proves easier since he was one of the first to arrive and hence got an actual hanger, but he just raids the pockets for cigarettes and lighter and leaves it there. It's October and he's drunk, he's not freezing to death.
The first breath of fresh air clues him into how affected he really is, since the world seems to slowly rotate a little in his peripheral vision as he steps outside. He pauses for a second until it stops, then looks up to see someone already standing on the porch.
It's a man who looks just above twenty but it's hard to tell at places like these, his hair brown with long bangs and his lips notably plush. He raises an eyebrow in what looks like amusement, the cigarette between his fingers momentarily forgotten.
“Drunk?” He asks, and Kento likes his voice.
“Totally.” He replies, getting a cigarette out and stuffs the packet into his back pocket as well as he can. His jeans are pretty tight. “4 and a half shots in 45 minutes.”
“A half?” The man smiles, watching as Kento lights his cigarette mostly through muscle memory.
“Liquorice.” Kento explains, because that should be all the explanation anyone needs, then motions towards his thighs where the stains on his light jeans haven't dried yet.
The man's eyes follows Kento's movement and lingers on his thighs for a moment, before he grins with a raised eyebrow. “That's one way of doing it.”
Kento doesn't reply, busy inhaling nicotine and filling his mouth with the tangy taste of addiction instead. The man before him is wearing one of those black shirts that boys shouldn't be allowed to wear if they're straight, clinging in all the right places, v-neck just low enough and sleeves ¾ long, and Kento knows he stares for too long.
“I'm Fuma.” The man says then, the amusement obvious in his voice and as Kento looks up, he sees it playing in his eyes too.
“Kento.” He says simply, watching Fuma close his lips around his own cigarette to inhale.
Fuma slowly breathes out smoke, momentarily clouding the air before his face, but his dark eyes are still fixed on Kento. “Pleasure.”
Kento doesn't reply, just keeps looking into Fuma's eyes because he's not sure what he's seeing in them. If the amusement is interested or patronizing, if the small spark seeming to light up his irises when Kento inhales his own smoke means Fuma wants to fuck him or if he just came to think of something.
They just look at each other for long enough to be more than awkward normally, but Kento's drunk and social rules is the last thing on his mind when there's a gorgeous boy in a delicious looking shirt in front of him. He's not even very straight when he's sober after all.
Eventually, Fuma turns his head away with a small laugh, effectively breaking eyecontact and stubs his cigarette against the railing.
“You're not very shy, are you?” He asks, his tone still warm with amusement, and Kento shrugs as those eyes fix on his again.
“I'm drunk. You're cute.” He says, and Fuma breathes another short laugh, but he stays where he is, calmly watching Kento with that knowing amusement like this is what he'd planned all night even though they've never seen each other before.
“I'm out of cigarettes.” Fuma says finally, leaning against the railing and nods towards Kento's hip with a suggestive raise of eyebrows. “Care to offer me one?”
Kento easily reaches back to fish for the packet and tosses it to him, thinking that Fuma can have as many cigarettes as he wants if he keeps looking at Kento like that.
26. Being jealous - PG - 1022 words
The thing that makes it difficult, Fuma thinks, is that he's not expected to be jealous. He's happy and bubbly and people would probably describe him as flirty too. So everyone expects him to be easygoing in all aspects.
On the other hand, they're all more careful with Kento. When Kento is around, most people glance over their shoulder before hugging Fuma or leaning close or saying something suggestive that they normally would do without second thoughts. And people don't even know that they're dating.
Because Kento is expected to be jealous. He sings about it, answers interviews like it and even makes strange facial expressions on TV when people get too close to anyone in their group. Kento's whole aura comes off like he'd never let any other man come close to his lover, or anyone else important to him.
But that's not how it works in reality.
Fuma has a feeling he'd have to make out with someone for Kento to react, while he can barely watch Kento smile at someone else without feeling ugly things.
He knows he doesn't have anything to worry about. Kento loves him like no one else has ever loved him before, watches Fuma like he's the sun of his world and tells him all this sweet nonsense that's completely ridiculous but still has Fuma smiling and occasionally blushing.
But he can't help it. He still wants to punch Jinguji's face when he hugs Kento, even though he knows Jinguji's just an annoying kid with 15 junior boyfriends. Not to mention how he felt when he first saw the rehearsals for Kento's Summer Paradise show and Fuma realized he was planning on dry humping Kishi Yuta on stage. They'd actually had an argument about that, that ended in Kento holding Fuma close to keep him from squirming away while whispering all kinds of heartfelt things until Fuma felt better.
He normally handles it well. He doesn't want to be jealous, so he tries his best keeping it away. He has this little goodnight message saved on his phone to look at whenever he feels he has to. It just says that Kento loves him, but it's sweet and so genuine it always eases Fuma's dark feelings.
And so, he can watch Kento flirt with Shori to the massive extents needed for their group and most other things, hell, Fuma even hangs out with Yamada. Even though he must admit to having wanted to seriously harm him once or twice, but that's just drunk thoughts.
But sometimes, these feelings are difficult to handle on his own.
It's a spontaneous concert after party which Fuma spent the earlier half of with their youngest two. He happily told Marius to go home because he can't drink anyway, which just led Marius to start arguing about Sou not being old enough either. Fuma saw very well how a little vodka slipped into Sou's drink earlier, but didn't comment because he's convinced nobody else noticed. He figured he'd keep that as blackmailing material if he'd ever need it. But then both of them got caught up in other conversations, Marius preening as he was made to speak other languages by impressed costume girls, and Fuma has heard enough of that for a lifetime so he sought out new company.
Fuma's having fun, it's nice talking to staff and juniors when it's not all about the production, and Fuma even exchanges number with a few juniors who come up to him with wide eyes and asks him to take them out as a senpai even though some are technically older than him.
It takes him a while to accidentally find Kento in the crowd, and there's a cold burst in his stomach that immediately spreads through his nerves and he feels the smile fading from his expression. But he swallows and quickly works it back on, forcing his eyes away from Kento, thinking that this is a bad place to be obvious.
So he just easily rounds up the conversation with the people he's talking to, excusing himself by saying he needs another drink and then goes to actually get one.
He focuses on breathing slowly for a little while before heading over to the table where he saw Kento, and pauses to just look at him for a moment. He's talking to a guy Fuma only vaguely recognizes, maybe a sound technician or something, but he's young and seemingly very interested in talking to Kento. He almost reminds Fuma of the juniors with the shining admiration in his eyes, leaning a little too close to talk to him, and Kento smiles as beautifully as he ever does. The guy is cute, too, which doesn't help Fuma at all, and he ends up standing there for a little while longer than he intended to get over the worst.
Then Kento sees him, eyes initially widening in surprise. But it only takes a second until the smile on his lips changes into something much sweeter as he takes in Fuma's expression, tilting his head in an invitation to come over and everything bad inside of Fuma eases immediately.
It takes a little effort to get past the people sitting around the table, but finally he slides in next to Kento without spilling any of his drink on the way.
Kento smells nice, like home and safety and gorgeous at the same time, only now with a hue of smoke and alcohol over him, but it still helps Fuma calm down the rest of the way.
“Hi.” Kento smiles widely at him, nudging his shoulder with his own and Fuma's already okay. Especially when he feels fingers tangle with his under the table, lacing them together. Then Kento leans back to let the cute guy next to him take a look at Fuma too. “You know Fuma, right?”
“Of course!” The guy says, and he sounds a little starstruck, which makes Fuma smile as he leans over to properly say hi while gently rubbing Kento's hand with his thumb under the table.
At least Kento knows exactly how to help him.
27. Doing something sweet - PG, Valentine's fluff - 894 words
Kento's unglamorously enough doing dishes, sleeves of his nice shirt rolled up not to stain them. The fangirls should see him, he thinks, doing housework on Valentine's. The idea amuses him, because that's probably the last thing anyone would expect.
They did have a nice dinner, were a little more dressed up than normal and they even used the table instead of eating in the couch as usual, but that's the only thing special about today. No chocolate, no gifts, no romantic date with surprises and confessions and proposals and whatnot.
And Kento's perfectly happy with that, despite his constant interview answers about perfect dates and important days to celebrate.
He's happy just spending time with Fuma these days, happy making an effort for him since they're definitely comfortable with each other these days. So it's nice to style his hair and put on a shirt just for dinner at home once in a while.
Fuma's cleaning up, and Kento doesn't pay him much mind, lost in thought as he mindlessly hums while rinsing cutlery.
Then suddenly, he feels an arm around his waist and a head leans on his shoulder, and he rolls his eyes with a smile before he realizes there's something held out before him.
A black box with gold print on it.
“No.” He says, hands stilling with a table knife in them as he stares at the box, because what the hell. “You didn't.”
“I-” Fuma starts, but Kento cuts him off, because he already started and he can't stop.
“No, we said we wouldn't!” Kento tells him, raising his voice because he's immediately feeling guilty since they strictly said no presents this year. “You promised, no, you swore we wouldn't!”
“I know, but-” Fuma tries again, but Kento turns around in his embrace with the knife still in his hand and washing-up bubbles slowly sliding down his arm as he holds it up to Fuma's face.
“No buts. I didn't get you anything.” Kento accuses, but it's hard to keep serious when Fuma's eyes almost cross as he looks sceptically at the not very threatening table knife.
Then Fuma focuses on him instead, an eyebrow raised as he apparently waits. “... Are you done?”
Kento frowns, because he doesn't feel done but he doesn't know what else to say.
“Okay, good.” Fuma settles, raising a hand to take the knife from Kento and drops it in the sink behind him before properly wrapping both arms around Kento's waist. “Look, I intended it for your birthday but then something else got cancelled and they told me they could finish it earlier, okay? So you're not getting a birthday present, and you don't need to get me anything back. Now will you please calm down and accept it?”
Kento tries to keep frowning, considering to bitch about Fuma not doing this right and why does he have to get his birthday present now when there's a month left, but he's too curious. “... I guess.”
“Good.” Fuma praises pointedly, but his arm withdraws from Kento's waist again, holding the box before him once more, and Kento sees the anticipation in Fuma's eyes and he wonders what it could be. If it's a ring Kento will definitely punch him, but this box is bigger than that.
He wipes the remaining washing-up water on his pants before accepting the box, carefully pulling the lid open and pauses.
It's a silver necklace on shiny black satin, and the charm is a gorgeous little detailed butterfly with inlays of glittering blue stones. It's not just any butterfly either, the design one he'd recognize anywhere.
“... It's my butterfly.” He finally gets out, his voice a little weak.
“It's your butterfly.” Fuma confirms, and Kento hears the expectant smile in his voice before he manages to look up and see it for himself, and he's overwhelmed with feelings of how beautiful Fuma is and how he's the perfect boyfriend and how fucking much Kento loves him. “Do you like it? It's not the most expensive stones since I'm not made of money, but-”
Kento firmly cuts him off by throwing his arms around his neck and kissing him, thinking that he wouldn't give a damn if Fuma had so made it himself with glue and plastic pearls.
He's still holding the box awkwardly and he wants to try it on but he also doesn't want to stop kissing Fuma, so it takes a while before he draws back with a final brush of smile against smile.
“I love it. I love you.” He mumbles, even though both of those statements were proven with the kiss. “Thank you.”
“... So my life is not at risk anymore?” Fuma teases, but he carefully takes the box from Kento's hands to lift the necklace and unclasp it.
“Don't surprise me when I'm doing dishes.” Kento tells him seriously, but he's smiling as Fuma fastens the jewellery around his neck and he feels the cool silver come to rest lightly against his collarbone.
“I didn't dare taking it out during dinner. I was afraid you'd get mad.” Fuma grins, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he leans in for another kiss, and Kento rolls his eyes but kisses back.
Fuma knows him too well.
28 - Doing something ridiculous - AU, delayed flights - 1177 words
Taking the late flight home sounded like a good idea. He had all day with his family, and could still wake up in his own bed tomorrow morning. It sounded like a good idea, until it started raining.
He could have changed his mind, if he wasn't already checked in and through security and the plane was only 20 minutes late. Which then turned to 50 minutes. An hour and a half.
And so here he sits on a hard chair by the gate a horrible 3 hours later and he's been considering to just go back home to his family and skip work tomorrow for the past 2. But he can't do that, his boss would kill him. Besides, the flight still isn't cancelled, and everyone around him are looking just as pissed off as he feels. They're not that many, maybe 30 people, but it feels good not being alone. It's past midnight after all.
Kento jumps when he feels something fall heavily on his shoulder, instinctively moving away from the intrusion of his personal space before he even realizes what happened.
The man next to him groans and sits back up, having clearly fallen asleep and Kento takes a deep breath to calm down from the shock.
“Sorry.” The man mumbles, and Kento nods in acknowledgement, looking at the man who can't be older than he is. “It's getting pretty late, huh?”
“It's okay.” Kento says, taking in the man's stylish brown hair and full lips. He looks like a typical pretty guy, his fashion a little questionable but still very put together. “I've been thinking about going home for the past 2 hours.”
“You have a home here?” The man asks, yawning and carelessly running a hand through his hair. “I'd have gone long ago if I were you.”
“I have work in the morning.” Kento explains, but he sighs because seriously, if the plane doesn't depart in the 40 minutes it's promised now, he's definitely leaving.
“Me too.” The man sighs, his head tilting enough to the side to look at Kento. “What do you do?”
“Just a business job, for now. It's a bit suffocating.” Kento shrugs. “You?”
“Clothing store. A bit shallow.” The man says without much passion, but he's starting to look more awake now. “I'm Kikuchi Fuma.”
“Hi. Nakajima Kento.” Kento replies, figuring it's nice to talk to someone for a while. The only reason he's not falling asleep himself is that he's so irritated with everything.
“Hey.” Fuma gives a lopsided smile. “So you've been home to see family or something?”
“Mmhm.” Kento agrees, then the conversation continues for a while, Fuma talking about having been here for a friend's wedding and ended up staying an extra day, and Kento asking about where and how because he loves weddings and he knows this town too well.
After a good fifteen minutes of talking, silence settles between them again, and Fuma slumps in his chair with a groan, head falling back against the backrest.
“I'm so tired, they could at least sell coffee at this time.” He complains, then sits up again, rubbing his eyes.
“They definitely could.” Kento agrees with a smile, getting more tired just watching Fuma's heavy eyelids that fall closed for a second before he opens them wide as if to compensate.
“Okay that's it, I'm going for a walk.” Fuma decides, standing up and jumps a bit on the spot. “Wanna come?”
Kento blinks, glancing at his bag and then around him, but there's only half-asleep or really grumpy looking people around and he figures nobody's gonna take anything here.
“Sure.”
It's not that big of an airport, but there's still a long hall with gates, long enough for at least one moving walkway.
“Oh look!” Fuma calls excitedly, hopping onto the end of it and Kento follows, smiling a little uncertainly.
“Weren't you going for a walk?” Kento asks, raising an eyebrow, but Fuma just laughs.
“These things are hilarious, don't you think?”
“... I... How old are you?” Kento asks, because now he's seriously wondering, if Fuma's like seventeen or something he'd feel a bit creepy because he finds him kind of hot.
“Oh come on, how old are you?” Fuma rolls his eyes and gently shoves at Kento's shoulder, turning to walk against the direction of movement. “Look, I'm standing still except I'm moving.”
“... Are you... retarded?” Kento asks, but he can't help laughing, mostly because Fuma looks so happy about it.
Fuma just grins and raises an eyebrow, then hops off the end of the walkway and runs around to go again.
Kento stands still at first, not knowing what to do or what to make of this situation, but then Fuma reaches the end again and tugs him along, and Kento figures what the hell. It's half past midnight, he can do whatever, even though he feels like a three year old when he follows Fuma to play with the walkway.
Fuma has so much fun with it that Kento can't keep from constantly laughing, even though he yelps in shock when Fuma suddenly does a handstand and nearly falls over, but Fuma just returns to his feet laughing. He's also a little surprised when Fuma lies down on the carpet and pretends to swim forward, because he thought Fuma would be one to care more about his clothes.
A man walks past on his way to the bathrooms and give them both a long, judging glare, and even though Kento would normally care, he just blushes a little and smiles.
Then suddenly, there's a voice in the speakers saying that their flight is arriving and it's time to prepare to board.
“Yes!” Fuma calls, jumping where he's hanging on the handrails, landing a little unstable and grabs Kento's arm for support, and Kento lets him. “Finally!”
“Finally.” Kento agrees with a smile, but it feels a little like leaving the playground when he straightens his jacket and they return to their own gate.
He picks up his bag that looks perfectly untouched and checks that he still has his tickets.
“Hey.” Fuma nudges his shoulder, and Kento looks over to see him holding up his passport. “I have a feeling you wouldn't believe my age even if I told you so.”
Kento laughs and looks at the plastic coated number, feeling a little relieved to see them. 19950307.
“Thanks for playing with me.” Fuma smirks after a moment that Kento shamelessly uses to look at Fuma's picture and the kanji for his name.
“Thank you.” Kento says back, and Fuma gives him another lopsided smirk.
“You should add me, if you want. I saw you looking at my kanji.” He says playfully, then turns to head towards the relieved flight hostess checking their tickets, and Kento thinks that maybe he should.
He could need some more playing in his life.
29. On one of their birthdays - PG, angst - 836 words
He's turning 23. It feels grown up, but still not near a number like 25. It's just that it feels like he was just 18.
His birthday this year is a Monday, so he didn't expect there to be any room for celebration. But he finds himself with a day off, and since he has university classes every day for the rest of the week, he can't help thinking that maybe it's meant to be.
He wakes up slightly hungover at ten am, because his parents are working and let him sleep in. His friends decided to celebrate him yesterday night, because there was no other date that fit for the majority, and they had dinner and cake and drinks and Kento walked home with a smile thinking that he couldn't have better friends in this world.
But now, when it's his birthday and he's all alone at home, he doesn't feel like smiling.
He's got a date today, meeting up with two of his university friends who couldn't make it yesterday but have the same day off as he does, and he's happy for the distraction.
They go shopping and then end up at Starbucks drinking lattes with cream and complaining about all the school work they should be doing instead of sitting there. But it's nice, Kento laughs a lot and it always feels good venting about classmates that behave like assholes, professors that doesn't make sense and more existential things like if their education will really get them somewhere.
“How does it feel turning 23?” They jokingly ask, and Kento laughs and tells them to shut up because they're both older than him.
When he comes home, his parents are already there, and his mother hugs him and offers him champagne and asks how his day was, how yesterday night was since he came home late.
He tells them, listens to them talk about their days too and it feels nice just spending family time together. His mother cooks delicious dinner and they even got a small cake just for the three of them, and he loves it. They got him a present, an expensive watch that they really shouldn't have, and Kento almost cries as he thanks them for it, genuinely surprised and happy.
He got presents from his friends too, but they were mostly ridiculous things like chocolate golden coins and toothpaste and hairclips. Still, he appreciates them in their own way.
He's happy about his birthday, as long as there's someone else around he's content and it feels all good and no bad. He stays up late watching a movie with his father just because he doesn't want to go back to his room and be alone, but eventually, he has to.
When he closes the door behind him, he lets the façade slip, leaning against the door and slides down to sit on the floor in the darkness. Yes, his birthday has been as good as any other.
Except it hasn't. There was something missing.
That loud voice and the mischievous smile telling him that of course he could handle another shot, he wasn't that old yet. That ridiculously emoji-cramped text message to wake up to. That third presence at the shopping date suggesting horrible things for him to buy, the hazelnut cappucino added to their Starbucks order. The fourth person at the dinner table fawning over Kento's mother's cooking and laughing at his father's lame jokes. That special present that would always take Kento by surprise because there was no one else who could possibly know that's exactly what he wanted.
He stares into the darkness and tries to work on his self-control. Tries not to think of the birthday kiss that would follow when they were alone, of that falling asleep next to the person he loves would always the best birthday present anyone could give him.
He takes out his phone, just looking at it in his hands for a while, telling himself that he shouldn't, he'll only be hurt and there's nothing that will feel better no matter what he finds. But he can't lie to himself, he knows he's already started going down that road and he's going to cry tonight no matter what. He might as well know.
He unlocks his phone and enters the application slowly, still somehow trying to keep himself from doing this, his fingers shaking as he writes that name into social media, as he's done many weak night before. And scrolls.
He should have known, he should have, but it can't keep the hot tears from running down his cheeks as he tosses his phone to the side so he won't be tempted to look at it again.
It's so unfair that he has to feel like this, that everyone does all they can to keep him happy, and then one single person miles away can still ruin it completely.
It's unfair, because Fuma doesn't think of him anymore, and all Kento can think about is him.
30. Doing something hot - Hard R, more fancy AU! - 2364 words
“That. Was so unnecessary, why would you do that?” Kento asks in irritation as soon as Fuma opens the hotel room door for him, then pushes past into the room without waiting for permission.
Fuma smiles because he knows what Kento's talking about, but it's fun to pretend he doesn't. “I didn't do anything?”
Kento sits down on Fuma's unmade bed like it's his own, giving him that unimpressed glare that's mostly hot. “No, of course you didn't, since laying your hand on your acquaintances lower back when introducing them to business partners is something you always do.”
“Would you be jealous if it was?” Fuma asks, leaning against the wall as he watches Kento. He's still wearing suit pants and a shirt, but the jacket and tie are left in his own room and the first top buttons of the shirt are undone.
“... I'd think you were a creep?” Kento suggests after a moment of thinking, and Fuma laughs, making Kento reluctantly smile too.
The best thing about Kento is that he questions everything Fuma does. It shouldn't be something attractive, he supposes, but it is, because no one has done it like that before.
They met at that garden party in the middle of summer, had a very passive aggressive fight and then ended up kissing. Unfortunately, in Fuma's opinion, they were interrupted by Kento's frail looking cousin, and even though Fuma could tell she was obviously not going to tell on them and he couldn't care less, Kento just gave him a furious glare and left.
Fuma let him leave, figuring he'd find him later, but realized when he returned to the party that Kento had really gone home.
He had half a mind to make himself forget about Kento, but he knew from the start that he wasn't going to find another man like that in his lifetime. That fighting-spirit combined with nearly flawless self-control and pretty looks were too good to pass up, and so Fuma easily arranged for them to meet again.
His father almost looked like he was having a heart attack from the shock when Fuma told him he'd enjoyed talking with Nakajima, wondering if it was possible to invite them for some further conversation, hoping to establish a good relation. And so the invitation was sent, and Fuma would pay good money to see Kento's facial expression when he realized what happened.
Kento's parents were pleasant enough, but Fuma didn't really care about them, only focused on Kento. Fuma played up his best act of nice and polite during dinner, which seemed to throw Kento off more than if he'd been acting his usual self, and it was amusing. After dinner, Fuma asked if he could show Kento around, and both their parents enthusiastically agreed, clearly happy about them becoming friends. Except when they were alone, Kento questioned what the hell Fuma was playing at, if this was all his doing, and with some initiative from Fuma they ended up kissing, again, only this time in Fuma's room with no risk of accidental voyeurs.
Kento was reluctant about this relationship to begin with. Tried to somehow ignore its existence even though they kept meeting, kept sneaking away despite the fact that Kento started having this flash of frustration in his eyes as soon as he laid eyes on Fuma, like his mere presence was a trigger for anger. Still, there was attraction, and Fuma would have been worried about how obsessed he became with Kento if Kento hadn't kept coming to him just as much. It wasn't until after they first ended up in bed together that they really talked about it, because there was no lying in the breathed words of “feels so good” and “you're so pretty” even though they were spoken in the middle of passion.
Kento practically threatened Fuma's life if he let this come out, but Fuma assured him that it wouldn't be favourable to him either if his parents figured out he was sleeping with a boy.
And so they play good friends whenever anyone else is present, but continue to grow into something completely different when they're alone. It's December already, and Fuma's already admitted that he's head over heels in love with the boy sitting on his hotel bed with the top buttons of his shirt undone and looking so good it almost hurts. But it's still fun to rile him up.
“Seriously though, you can't keep doing that.” Kento looks up at him, eyes hard. “It's like that time you called me Kento, I thought I was going to stab you.”
“Nobody heard that.” Fuma grins, remembering very well how Kento glared at him like he deserved all seven circles of hell and then refused to talk to him more during the party, and Fuma had to work hard to earn his forgiveness.
“Doesn't matter. Don't do it.” Kento says sternly, and Fuma finally walks over to sit down on the bed next to Kento, knowing he's much more easily calmed with close proximity.
“I won't.” Fuma assures him, but he's still smiling as he strokes back a strand of Kento's hair and he's not making promises, which Kento can clearly tell.
“You better.” Kento settles, but his eyes say that he knows this isn't the last time they have this conversation. But it's more fun that way. It's thrilling and Fuma can't help himself, just the knowledge that he can't touch Kento in public makes him think of all the things he wants to do to him and it makes him test the limits just a little. He wouldn't risk anything for real, but Kento's much more careful than Fuma and he uses that to his advantage.
“I know what I'm doing.” Fuma smiles, leaning close and speaking the words against Kento's temple, smelling the expensive cologne that is so good Fuma would wear it himself if it wasn't Kento's already. He has worn it anyway once or twice, without Kento knowing, but it was surprisingly frustrating to smell Kento all around him without him being there.
“I do to.” Kento tells him, fixing Fuma with a reprimanding look. “You're distracting me.”
Fuma smiles as their lips come together, because yes he is and Kento loves it. Their kiss deepens almost immediately, tongues tangling naturally by now as they both know how to make the other melt.
Sometimes, it's a pure competition, if they're fighting when they come back to their privacy, the fight continues like this, struggling with touches and kisses until one of them ends up on top.
There's fingers in Fuma's hair and Fuma groans into the kiss, never far from hard in situations like this with all the want in his circulation from whatever event he's gone through trying to keep his looks at Kento friendly and nothing else. No matter how freaking hot he looks in those suits and tuxedos and shirts and whatnot.
The fingers twirl into the strands and tug, making Fuma's hands reach out for Kento's shoulders for something to hold on to. He loves Kento's hands. He's got long beautiful fingers and he's amazing with a piano and even better with Fuma's body.
He's not surprised when he feels himself being pushed onto his back, and he doesn't mind either as Kento's weight settles over him, his grip in his hair forcing Fuma's head aside to effectively break the kiss. Kento's lips drag lazily down Fuma's neck, an occasional lick or bite keeping him on edge and he's already given in to let Kento decide tonight. It's only fair after all.
Fingers work impatiently with buttons on both their shirts for a while, Kento muttering something about fucking brand shirts under his breath and Fuma laughs until his shirt falls open and Kento's mouth moves further down his chest.
He moans out loud when Kento's lips close around one of his nipples, and his own hands slips under Kento's open shirt to hold onto his back, clawing with short nails because Kento likes that.
It comes back to him though, the gasp against his own moist skin making him shudder, and Kento pulls back to look at him with dark eyes as he sits up enough to shrug out of his shirt and carelessly drop it on the floor.
“I'm having you.” He clarifies, but he holds Fuma's eyes for a confirmation and Fuma nods breathlessly as he tries to squirm out of his own shirt while still lying down. It's getting wrinkled but he couldn't give a damn.
He gets it out from under himself almost at the same time as Kento tugs the rest of his clothes off, and he sighs at the cool, soft sheets against his heated skin.
“You look good in those pants.” He gets out as Kento's fumbling with the fastenings of his suit pants. They're new and Fuma wanted to tell him all night but it would be very suspicious if he could recognize his friend having new suit pants that all look the same anyway.
“... Want me to leave them on?” Kento raises an eyebrow in amusement, but finally gets the pants open.
“No.” Fuma's breath catches as Kento reaches into his own pants to stroke himself once. “Strip.”
Kento grins lazily and it looks so freaking good with his flushed cheeks and glittering eyes that Fuma almost wants to throw the lube at him and tell him to get on with it.
He paws around the duvet next to him to find the bottle, knowing it probably shouldn't be left in bed but where else should it be.
It takes a little while to locate it, but once he does he presses it against Kento's chest and pointedly spreads his legs, not even a little ashamed of it these days. After all, he loves Kento's fingers, and they're both more or less shameless with each other. It's a relieving change from their ordinary expected pride and integrity to just drop all that and ask for what they want without second thoughts. It's also hot; Fuma can't even tell how much it strokes his ego when Kento says out loud that he wants to suck him off.
Kento smiles as he accepts the bottle, like he finds Fuma's urgency amusing even as his hands betray him with trembling the slightest as he covers them in the sticky substance.
Kento leans down to kiss him just as his fingertips reach Fuma's entrance, and at first Fuma thought it was to help him relax, and maybe it was initially; now it's all about shutting him up.
Fuma moans at the first finger pushing inside him, his body resisting but wanting more at the same time and fuck he could never be straight because this feels so good. Kento's fingers are so long, and know exactly where to go even though Fuma's not usually the one on his back.
When Kento's two fingers in and crooks them just right, Fuma shudders and digs nails into Kento's shoulders, whining for him to hurry up already.
Kento hushes him with a grin, that brat, but adds a third finger and Fuma forgives him. He's still not over that Kento was a virgin their first time, and that he turned into this so quickly. Confident, teasing, so fucking hot and Fuma would probably let Kento do anything to him.
Fuma turns his head out of the kiss to complain that he's ready even when he's not, because Kento doesn't believe him until he's a shivering mess and it's worth trying at least.
When Kento pulls his fingers free, finally, every second of crinkling foil and Kento's shaky breath feels like forever, and Fuma wants to grab Kento and make him hurry the fuck up, but he doesn't, knows he shouldn't. Kento has been very clear in teaching Fuma that he can't always have his way. There was that particular time when they had all night and Kento tied him up and made him wait what felt like forever, but it was so. good.
When Kento finally slides inside him, Fuma sighs and he can't keep his eyes open, hands clutching to Kento's shoulder blades as Kento spreads Fuma's legs further.
Lips are back on his, swallowing his moans that pitch much higher when he's in this position and he doesn't know why, but Kento's groans against his lips feel just as good.
Fuma writhes against the sheets, arching and shivering and it all feels fuzzy and hot, especially when Kento's moans come often enough that the kiss isn't doing much to muffle either of their voices. Then Kento shifts in one smooth thrust, hitting Fuma so deliciously right that he sees white with each wave of pleasure and he clings to Kento like there's nothing else in the world.
A hand wraps around Fuma's erection as Kento falls from his lips in favour of moaning into his neck, and Fuma clutches a fistful of Kento's hair and digs fingers into his shoulder as he comes with a long whimper. Kento thrusts a couple more times before groaning into Fuma's neck, the sound so broken and beautiful that Fuma feels goosebumps run down his arms despite his nervous system being momentarily out of order.
Kento collapses onto Fuma's chest and Fuma holds him close until they're both breathing properly, too sticky to be able to comfortably stay.
“... I hope you're not wearing that shirt any more this weekend.” Kento speaks finally, voice a little rough still, then nods towards Fuma's shirt that's a wrinkled mess with a wet stain on one sleeve just next to them.
“Nah.” Fuma smiles lazily. “With all my money I can order a new one.”
Kento glares down at him with disapproval even if he knows Fuma's joking, and pointedly bites Fuma's pectoral before sitting up.
“Behave, or I'll shower without you.” He says, voice just as stern as it was before, but there's a smile in his eyes now and Fuma knows he can take that joke by now.
Day 19-24