A Different Kind Of Thank-You (Nikaido/Senga, R)
Title: A Different Kind Of Thank-You
Pairing: Nikaido/Senga, a bit of Tamamori/Miyata
Rating/Warnings: R
Summary: Tamamori and Miyata do not want to practice. Senga is annoyed.
AN: Omg, I don't even know. This started out as a short little cracky drabble and then exploded into about 2,500 words of intensity and then fluff and what the hell. I realized I hadn't written Nika/Senga in a few months, not really, and I think my muses went a little crazy, because they completely took over and hey, that was NOT what I was going to write. *sigh* You two.
Also, this could have been longer, but I gave up. So yeah, they probably get up and go home at some point. :P
Set between Arashi in Korea and the Yoyogi EbiKisu cons.
A Different Kind Of Thank-You
It's been almost two hours since they began practicing, and Tamamori and Miyata are making just as many mistakes as they had been a hundred minutes ago. They don't seem to notice, though, instead continuously leering at each other and very obviously looking each other up and down as they dance. Senga's caught in the middle, and the mirror in front of them makes their lines of sight clear. They're not even trying, not to hide their flirting, nor to improve their dancing, and Senga's entirely fed up with it. Why does he have to be the mature one? Seriously.
"Okay, that's it. We're taking a break," Senga announces, and stalks over to jab at the CD player, cutting the music. Tamamori is just starting to question him when Senga slams the door of the room. He can't even look at them anymore.
It takes a minute or two of peering through the tiny windows in the various practice room doors to find Nikaido. The rooms are all sound-proofed and schedules are covering half the glass. A hard knock makes Nikaido pause in his rap (presumably, since Senga can't actually hear him) and look up. Senga opens the door when Nikaido nods at him.
"What's up?"
"Ugh, I can't practice with those two," Senga grumbles.
Nikaido takes a swig from his water bottle before answering. "Why not? They were really good last time. I can't imagine they've gotten worse."
"No," Senga grumbles, and slides down to sit with his back against the mirror. "Their dancing is mostly fine, except for the falling over part."
Nikaido raises an eyebrow.
"We get it about half the time," Senga elaborates. "We're working on it. Or I am. All they do is make eyes at each other the whole time. They don't pay attention at all, and when they do the bit where they lean in, I'm totally stuck in the middle. And not in a good way," he adds, before Nikaido can make any inappropriate comments.
Nikaido snickers anyway and Senga pouts at him.
"Okay, okay," Nikaido says. "You want me to talk to them?"
"Yes," Senga says, his voice small. "They never listen to me."
"Right, then." Nikaido puts his water bottle down next to his bag and comes over to give Senga a hand up. "Let's go."
Senga leads the way back to their larger room down the hall and pulls open the door, only to find Tamamori on his knees with Miyata's hand in his hair. He slams the door shut again.
"They're having sex!" he states, completely affronted.
"We're not having sex," Miyata's voice is very muffled by the door, but Senga can still hear the tightness indicative of continued activities.
He rolls his eyes at Nikaido. "Tama's sucking him off. So that would be oral SEX," he finishes, shouting it through the door.
Nikaido makes a sound of annoyance and reaches past Senga to fling open the door. Tamamori and Miyata both ignore him as he enters, up until the point he strides over to them and grabs Tamamori by the hair, forcibly pulling him back. "Enough!"
"Hey!" Tamamori complains, rubbing at his head.
"Aww, come on," Miyata says, and he glares at Nikaido.
"You two have no control," Nikaido says, aiming an accusing stare at both of them.
Tamamori smirks up at him. "Oh, like you're any better."
"We don't interrupt practice," Nikaido points out.
"We didn't interrupt practice. Senga called for a break."
"Because you two were eye-fucking each other over his head," Nikaido shoots back. "Get it together."
"I can't practice like this," Miyata puts in, his hand wrapped around his very hard cock.
"Then go take care of it. Yourself," he adds, when Tamamori gets that look in his eye. "Don't make me go get Fujigaya."
Miyata groans and does up his pants carefully, stumbling his way out of the room when Nikaido pushes him towards the door.
"You, get off the floor," Nikaido demands, and Tamamori drags himself up, looking mutinous.
"Who put you in charge?"
"I did," Nikaido says, "When you both decided to be idiots."
Senga presses himself against Nikaido and wraps his arms around his neck. "Thank you~." Their kiss is interrupted by Tamamori's disgusted ugh.
"How is that fair," Tamamori demands when they look at him. Nikaido nudges Senga away.
"You can thank me properly," he says, "later," looking at Tamamori for the last bit, even though his words are for Senga. "Okay, now run the routine again. Let me see what you've got."
Tamamori rolls his eyes, but he follows directions and takes his place next to Senga as Nikaido heads over to start the music.
By the end of the day, they've gotten through the dance twenty-five times in a row without anyone falling over. Senga's beginning to hate it, but at least they won't mess up in the concert. Again.
*****
Senga is in the middle of changing when a heavy weight drops onto his back.
"Don't bother," Nikaido sings, draping his arms around Senga's neck. "You still owe me a thank you."
Even though Senga can't see him very well, it's clear from the warmth along his bare back that Nikaido isn't wearing a shirt. Senga closes his eyes for a moment against the rush of arousal that goes through him, and then realizes that he doesn't need to bother. He twists around in Nikaido's arms until they're pressed chest to chest, then presses even closer to breathe against Nikaido's mouth. "Thank you," he whispers, and then squawks as Tamamori shoves his way between them.
"Screw you both," Tamamori mutters, reaching for his bag. "At least go do it somewhere else."
"Fine with me," Nikaido grins at Tamamori, easily ignoring the death-glare he gets in return, and grabs Senga's hand. Senga doesn't even think about protesting as Nikaido pulls him along, sidestepping Miyata's matching glare on their way out the door. If it were Nikaido who was pissed off, Senga would think twice about leaving his bag behind, but fortunately Tamamori and Miyata seem to be a bit more mature than that. He hopes.
Nikaido tugs Senga into the room he'd been using to rehearse earlier, leaving the lights off. No one else should be using the room for the day, and lights on now would look suspicious. There's enough light spilling in from the half-covered glass panel in the door, and even if there weren't, they know each other well enough to navigate by touch alone. Nikaido pulls Senga close, and gets serious about the kiss this time.
Senga loves kissing Nikaido. Other people have been good kissers, even really good, but there's just something about the way Nikaido touches him that turns his knees weak. The brush of his tongue makes Senga's heartbeat trip over itself as it races faster and faster, and he links his arms behind Nikaido's neck for balance. The best thing, though, is that Senga can be himself and just enjoy Nikaido's attention, because Nikaido likes him, Nikaido wants him, and Senga doesn't have to force anything. His natural reactions are enough to have Nikaido groaning into his mouth. Nikaido's hands slide down to the small of his back and pull him closer, and Senga groans in return.
They're perfect together, matching. They each do what they like and it works, easy and comfortable, they never have to struggle to figure each other out. And even if something isn't right, they make it so, awkwardness long gone. This is what Nikaido gives him, and why Senga loves him.
Nikaido is easy to understand and doesn't hide how much he wants Senga. He's open and honest and it's sweet, normally, but when they're like this, it's also hot. Nikaido touches him everywhere, hands stroking Senga's back, his arms, his face, and he gasps openly without embarrassment when Senga arches against him.
Senga is hard, the soft material of his sweatpants dragging across the outline of his cock as he moves, and he rolls his hips against Nikaido's in search of real friction. He gets one good thrust, making both of them moan with the feel of it, before Nikaido pushes him down.
The floor is cold against Senga's back, but Nikaido settles quickly between his legs, his weight covering and warm. Their cocks are snug together, a pleasant pressure, too much clothing in the way for it to be any real sense of relief, but Nikaido kisses him again and it doesn't matter. The slide of their tongues together sends more heat rushing through Senga's body, flaring all the way out to his fingertips where they rest against Nikaido's back, and the cold of the floor becomes a distant memory. Senga feels like he's breathing heat, every inhale sending a pulse of fire flashing through him, every exhale a cooling breeze. Hot and cold, hot and cold, and it's so overwhelming Senga almost misses how badly Nikaido is shaking against him. But he doesn't, because the tight press of their chests means that every shiver passes through Senga, as well, and when Nikaido pulls back just enough that their skin is barely touching, his shivers become brushes that spark electric tingles snaking down Senga's spine. Everything pools low in Senga's abdomen and he whines, shoving at the waistband of Nikaido's pants.
Nikaido refuses to move, sucking on Senga's upper lip and then moving on to his tongue, and Senga likes it way too much to nudge him back far enough to get their pants off. He gets Nikaido's down to mid-thigh, and manages to get his hands between them enough to push his own out of the way, and then gives up, the hot drag of Nikaido's cock against his forcing all further thought from his mind. With every sweep of Nikaido's tongue, Senga can feel an echoing throb, as if Nikaido were licking at his cock directly. He's not even close yet, not really, and it already feels so, so good. He pulls his mouth away from Nikaido's long enough to tell him so.
"Yeah," Nikaido answers, his voice low and shaky, and knowing it's because of him makes something swell inside Senga's chest, want bubbling up to press against his lungs so hard he can't breathe.
Senga wraps his arms around Nikaido's back, holds him close again, sliding one hand up into his hair to pull Nikaido down. He presses his cheek against Nikaido's, doesn't have enough air to keep kissing him, just whimpers into his ear as Nikaido starts up a smooth rhythm with his hips. It doesn't take much before Senga can't keep quiet anymore, each exhale an aaahhh or a drawn out moan. Nikaido's are the same, and it's good that the rooms have soundproofing.
When Nikaido stutters out a shaky version of his name, Senga can't answer him, managing only an indecipherable babble in return. Nikaido wiggles in his arms until Senga loosens his grip enough for Nikaido to slide down his body. He doesn't tease at all this time, the heat of his mouth taking in as much of Senga as he can, and Senga cries out loudly. Nikaido's muffled answer makes Senga tense all over. He focuses on breathing when he realizes that he's stopped, trying to prevent the up-down of his chest from matching the up-down of Nikaido's lips on his cock. It's hard not to hyperventilate as the air gets hot, hot, hotter, and he's gasping as Nikaido moves faster.
"Ahh, Nika! Nikaaaa!" Senga writhes on the floor, his arms and shoulders touching cool spots as he shifts far enough from his original position. Nikaido grabs his hips hard to keep him from moving, and Senga scrabbles his hands from the floor to Nikaido's shoulders, holding on tight as Nikaido sucks harder. "Ah, pleeeaase!"
And then there's tongue and teeth and Senga's not sure, but it doesn't matter, because he's coming, screaming out as Nikaido keeps going, keeps sucking until all Senga can do is whimper and shiver beneath him. He takes big, heaving gasps of air as Nikaido pulls back, and even in the dim light, Senga can see the shine on Nikaido's mouth and chin before he reaches up to wipe it away.
It takes effort, but Senga pushes away the haze of pleasure that clings to him, enough that he can focus on getting his hands back on Nikaido. Although Nikaido is kneeling upright at the moment, Senga can tell he's not going to stay that way, not with the way he's still shaking violently from arousal.
It's another thing that Senga loves, that Nikaido gets off on sucking him, that he genuinely just enjoys making Senga feel good. Senga always just hopes that he can make Nikaido feel the same way, so he forces himself to move.
"Come here," he breathes, and tugs Nikaido down next to him, pushes him flat on his back as he moves to return the favor. Nikaido doesn't let him go, though, and pulls Senga into himself to kiss him again. He tastes like Senga, and it never stops being hot; even though they've done this dozens of times, being able to taste himself on Nikaido's tongue sends thrills of aftershocks all through his body.
"Kento," Nikaido mumbles, and Senga can feel his lips move.
"Hmm?" Nikaido still won't let him go. "Don't you want me to...?"
"Stay here," Nikaido says between kisses. "I want to stay just like this, forever."
If it were anyone else, Senga might think they were just saying it, but Nikaido only ever says what he truly feels. It makes Senga's heart do that swelling thing again, and he tries to make light of it, if just so that he can breathe.
"Don't you think that would hurt," he teases, and he lightly trails a hand down to run his fingers over Nikaido's erection to make his point. Nikaido hips snap and he cries out softly.
"Maybe," he chokes out. He gives a breathless laugh. "Okay, go ahead."
This time the only thing Nikaido does when Senga shifts is to grab one of his hands, lacing their fingers together. Senga hides his grin by placing a kiss on Nikaido's hip. Nikaido is such a sap, really.
It doesn't take long for Nikaido to fall apart beneath him, his shaking quelling to what feels like a vibration as he melts into the floor and pulls Senga back up into his arms. Senga lets him, leaning his head on Nikaido's shoulder, face pressed into his neck as Nikaido buries his nose in Senga's hair. Senga smiles and traces little shapes with his finger on Nikaido's other shoulder.
"Well, maybe we could stay like this," he says, and Nikaido squeezes him tight.
Omake
Senga ends up using Nikaido's train pass because it's the only one in his bag. He assumes Nikaido has his then, because he hasn't gotten a mail saying Nikaido is stranded anywhere. And he would be, otherwise, since Senga apparently also has Nikaido's wallet, in addition to his own. When Senga finds Nikaido's iPod in his bag, too, he realizes that Nikaido is lucky to have even a train pass.
He does finally get a mail from Nikaido, and all it shows is a picture of a piece of paper with a hand-written note: "Hope you had fun~ ♥"
Maybe Tamamori and Miyata aren't quite as mature as Senga thought.
Pairing: Nikaido/Senga, a bit of Tamamori/Miyata
Rating/Warnings: R
Summary: Tamamori and Miyata do not want to practice. Senga is annoyed.
AN: Omg, I don't even know. This started out as a short little cracky drabble and then exploded into about 2,500 words of intensity and then fluff and what the hell. I realized I hadn't written Nika/Senga in a few months, not really, and I think my muses went a little crazy, because they completely took over and hey, that was NOT what I was going to write. *sigh* You two.
Also, this could have been longer, but I gave up. So yeah, they probably get up and go home at some point. :P
Set between Arashi in Korea and the Yoyogi EbiKisu cons.
A Different Kind Of Thank-You
It's been almost two hours since they began practicing, and Tamamori and Miyata are making just as many mistakes as they had been a hundred minutes ago. They don't seem to notice, though, instead continuously leering at each other and very obviously looking each other up and down as they dance. Senga's caught in the middle, and the mirror in front of them makes their lines of sight clear. They're not even trying, not to hide their flirting, nor to improve their dancing, and Senga's entirely fed up with it. Why does he have to be the mature one? Seriously.
"Okay, that's it. We're taking a break," Senga announces, and stalks over to jab at the CD player, cutting the music. Tamamori is just starting to question him when Senga slams the door of the room. He can't even look at them anymore.
It takes a minute or two of peering through the tiny windows in the various practice room doors to find Nikaido. The rooms are all sound-proofed and schedules are covering half the glass. A hard knock makes Nikaido pause in his rap (presumably, since Senga can't actually hear him) and look up. Senga opens the door when Nikaido nods at him.
"What's up?"
"Ugh, I can't practice with those two," Senga grumbles.
Nikaido takes a swig from his water bottle before answering. "Why not? They were really good last time. I can't imagine they've gotten worse."
"No," Senga grumbles, and slides down to sit with his back against the mirror. "Their dancing is mostly fine, except for the falling over part."
Nikaido raises an eyebrow.
"We get it about half the time," Senga elaborates. "We're working on it. Or I am. All they do is make eyes at each other the whole time. They don't pay attention at all, and when they do the bit where they lean in, I'm totally stuck in the middle. And not in a good way," he adds, before Nikaido can make any inappropriate comments.
Nikaido snickers anyway and Senga pouts at him.
"Okay, okay," Nikaido says. "You want me to talk to them?"
"Yes," Senga says, his voice small. "They never listen to me."
"Right, then." Nikaido puts his water bottle down next to his bag and comes over to give Senga a hand up. "Let's go."
Senga leads the way back to their larger room down the hall and pulls open the door, only to find Tamamori on his knees with Miyata's hand in his hair. He slams the door shut again.
"They're having sex!" he states, completely affronted.
"We're not having sex," Miyata's voice is very muffled by the door, but Senga can still hear the tightness indicative of continued activities.
He rolls his eyes at Nikaido. "Tama's sucking him off. So that would be oral SEX," he finishes, shouting it through the door.
Nikaido makes a sound of annoyance and reaches past Senga to fling open the door. Tamamori and Miyata both ignore him as he enters, up until the point he strides over to them and grabs Tamamori by the hair, forcibly pulling him back. "Enough!"
"Hey!" Tamamori complains, rubbing at his head.
"Aww, come on," Miyata says, and he glares at Nikaido.
"You two have no control," Nikaido says, aiming an accusing stare at both of them.
Tamamori smirks up at him. "Oh, like you're any better."
"We don't interrupt practice," Nikaido points out.
"We didn't interrupt practice. Senga called for a break."
"Because you two were eye-fucking each other over his head," Nikaido shoots back. "Get it together."
"I can't practice like this," Miyata puts in, his hand wrapped around his very hard cock.
"Then go take care of it. Yourself," he adds, when Tamamori gets that look in his eye. "Don't make me go get Fujigaya."
Miyata groans and does up his pants carefully, stumbling his way out of the room when Nikaido pushes him towards the door.
"You, get off the floor," Nikaido demands, and Tamamori drags himself up, looking mutinous.
"Who put you in charge?"
"I did," Nikaido says, "When you both decided to be idiots."
Senga presses himself against Nikaido and wraps his arms around his neck. "Thank you~." Their kiss is interrupted by Tamamori's disgusted ugh.
"How is that fair," Tamamori demands when they look at him. Nikaido nudges Senga away.
"You can thank me properly," he says, "later," looking at Tamamori for the last bit, even though his words are for Senga. "Okay, now run the routine again. Let me see what you've got."
Tamamori rolls his eyes, but he follows directions and takes his place next to Senga as Nikaido heads over to start the music.
By the end of the day, they've gotten through the dance twenty-five times in a row without anyone falling over. Senga's beginning to hate it, but at least they won't mess up in the concert. Again.
*****
Senga is in the middle of changing when a heavy weight drops onto his back.
"Don't bother," Nikaido sings, draping his arms around Senga's neck. "You still owe me a thank you."
Even though Senga can't see him very well, it's clear from the warmth along his bare back that Nikaido isn't wearing a shirt. Senga closes his eyes for a moment against the rush of arousal that goes through him, and then realizes that he doesn't need to bother. He twists around in Nikaido's arms until they're pressed chest to chest, then presses even closer to breathe against Nikaido's mouth. "Thank you," he whispers, and then squawks as Tamamori shoves his way between them.
"Screw you both," Tamamori mutters, reaching for his bag. "At least go do it somewhere else."
"Fine with me," Nikaido grins at Tamamori, easily ignoring the death-glare he gets in return, and grabs Senga's hand. Senga doesn't even think about protesting as Nikaido pulls him along, sidestepping Miyata's matching glare on their way out the door. If it were Nikaido who was pissed off, Senga would think twice about leaving his bag behind, but fortunately Tamamori and Miyata seem to be a bit more mature than that. He hopes.
Nikaido tugs Senga into the room he'd been using to rehearse earlier, leaving the lights off. No one else should be using the room for the day, and lights on now would look suspicious. There's enough light spilling in from the half-covered glass panel in the door, and even if there weren't, they know each other well enough to navigate by touch alone. Nikaido pulls Senga close, and gets serious about the kiss this time.
Senga loves kissing Nikaido. Other people have been good kissers, even really good, but there's just something about the way Nikaido touches him that turns his knees weak. The brush of his tongue makes Senga's heartbeat trip over itself as it races faster and faster, and he links his arms behind Nikaido's neck for balance. The best thing, though, is that Senga can be himself and just enjoy Nikaido's attention, because Nikaido likes him, Nikaido wants him, and Senga doesn't have to force anything. His natural reactions are enough to have Nikaido groaning into his mouth. Nikaido's hands slide down to the small of his back and pull him closer, and Senga groans in return.
They're perfect together, matching. They each do what they like and it works, easy and comfortable, they never have to struggle to figure each other out. And even if something isn't right, they make it so, awkwardness long gone. This is what Nikaido gives him, and why Senga loves him.
Nikaido is easy to understand and doesn't hide how much he wants Senga. He's open and honest and it's sweet, normally, but when they're like this, it's also hot. Nikaido touches him everywhere, hands stroking Senga's back, his arms, his face, and he gasps openly without embarrassment when Senga arches against him.
Senga is hard, the soft material of his sweatpants dragging across the outline of his cock as he moves, and he rolls his hips against Nikaido's in search of real friction. He gets one good thrust, making both of them moan with the feel of it, before Nikaido pushes him down.
The floor is cold against Senga's back, but Nikaido settles quickly between his legs, his weight covering and warm. Their cocks are snug together, a pleasant pressure, too much clothing in the way for it to be any real sense of relief, but Nikaido kisses him again and it doesn't matter. The slide of their tongues together sends more heat rushing through Senga's body, flaring all the way out to his fingertips where they rest against Nikaido's back, and the cold of the floor becomes a distant memory. Senga feels like he's breathing heat, every inhale sending a pulse of fire flashing through him, every exhale a cooling breeze. Hot and cold, hot and cold, and it's so overwhelming Senga almost misses how badly Nikaido is shaking against him. But he doesn't, because the tight press of their chests means that every shiver passes through Senga, as well, and when Nikaido pulls back just enough that their skin is barely touching, his shivers become brushes that spark electric tingles snaking down Senga's spine. Everything pools low in Senga's abdomen and he whines, shoving at the waistband of Nikaido's pants.
Nikaido refuses to move, sucking on Senga's upper lip and then moving on to his tongue, and Senga likes it way too much to nudge him back far enough to get their pants off. He gets Nikaido's down to mid-thigh, and manages to get his hands between them enough to push his own out of the way, and then gives up, the hot drag of Nikaido's cock against his forcing all further thought from his mind. With every sweep of Nikaido's tongue, Senga can feel an echoing throb, as if Nikaido were licking at his cock directly. He's not even close yet, not really, and it already feels so, so good. He pulls his mouth away from Nikaido's long enough to tell him so.
"Yeah," Nikaido answers, his voice low and shaky, and knowing it's because of him makes something swell inside Senga's chest, want bubbling up to press against his lungs so hard he can't breathe.
Senga wraps his arms around Nikaido's back, holds him close again, sliding one hand up into his hair to pull Nikaido down. He presses his cheek against Nikaido's, doesn't have enough air to keep kissing him, just whimpers into his ear as Nikaido starts up a smooth rhythm with his hips. It doesn't take much before Senga can't keep quiet anymore, each exhale an aaahhh or a drawn out moan. Nikaido's are the same, and it's good that the rooms have soundproofing.
When Nikaido stutters out a shaky version of his name, Senga can't answer him, managing only an indecipherable babble in return. Nikaido wiggles in his arms until Senga loosens his grip enough for Nikaido to slide down his body. He doesn't tease at all this time, the heat of his mouth taking in as much of Senga as he can, and Senga cries out loudly. Nikaido's muffled answer makes Senga tense all over. He focuses on breathing when he realizes that he's stopped, trying to prevent the up-down of his chest from matching the up-down of Nikaido's lips on his cock. It's hard not to hyperventilate as the air gets hot, hot, hotter, and he's gasping as Nikaido moves faster.
"Ahh, Nika! Nikaaaa!" Senga writhes on the floor, his arms and shoulders touching cool spots as he shifts far enough from his original position. Nikaido grabs his hips hard to keep him from moving, and Senga scrabbles his hands from the floor to Nikaido's shoulders, holding on tight as Nikaido sucks harder. "Ah, pleeeaase!"
And then there's tongue and teeth and Senga's not sure, but it doesn't matter, because he's coming, screaming out as Nikaido keeps going, keeps sucking until all Senga can do is whimper and shiver beneath him. He takes big, heaving gasps of air as Nikaido pulls back, and even in the dim light, Senga can see the shine on Nikaido's mouth and chin before he reaches up to wipe it away.
It takes effort, but Senga pushes away the haze of pleasure that clings to him, enough that he can focus on getting his hands back on Nikaido. Although Nikaido is kneeling upright at the moment, Senga can tell he's not going to stay that way, not with the way he's still shaking violently from arousal.
It's another thing that Senga loves, that Nikaido gets off on sucking him, that he genuinely just enjoys making Senga feel good. Senga always just hopes that he can make Nikaido feel the same way, so he forces himself to move.
"Come here," he breathes, and tugs Nikaido down next to him, pushes him flat on his back as he moves to return the favor. Nikaido doesn't let him go, though, and pulls Senga into himself to kiss him again. He tastes like Senga, and it never stops being hot; even though they've done this dozens of times, being able to taste himself on Nikaido's tongue sends thrills of aftershocks all through his body.
"Kento," Nikaido mumbles, and Senga can feel his lips move.
"Hmm?" Nikaido still won't let him go. "Don't you want me to...?"
"Stay here," Nikaido says between kisses. "I want to stay just like this, forever."
If it were anyone else, Senga might think they were just saying it, but Nikaido only ever says what he truly feels. It makes Senga's heart do that swelling thing again, and he tries to make light of it, if just so that he can breathe.
"Don't you think that would hurt," he teases, and he lightly trails a hand down to run his fingers over Nikaido's erection to make his point. Nikaido hips snap and he cries out softly.
"Maybe," he chokes out. He gives a breathless laugh. "Okay, go ahead."
This time the only thing Nikaido does when Senga shifts is to grab one of his hands, lacing their fingers together. Senga hides his grin by placing a kiss on Nikaido's hip. Nikaido is such a sap, really.
It doesn't take long for Nikaido to fall apart beneath him, his shaking quelling to what feels like a vibration as he melts into the floor and pulls Senga back up into his arms. Senga lets him, leaning his head on Nikaido's shoulder, face pressed into his neck as Nikaido buries his nose in Senga's hair. Senga smiles and traces little shapes with his finger on Nikaido's other shoulder.
"Well, maybe we could stay like this," he says, and Nikaido squeezes him tight.
Omake
Senga ends up using Nikaido's train pass because it's the only one in his bag. He assumes Nikaido has his then, because he hasn't gotten a mail saying Nikaido is stranded anywhere. And he would be, otherwise, since Senga apparently also has Nikaido's wallet, in addition to his own. When Senga finds Nikaido's iPod in his bag, too, he realizes that Nikaido is lucky to have even a train pass.
He does finally get a mail from Nikaido, and all it shows is a picture of a piece of paper with a hand-written note: "Hope you had fun~ ♥"
Maybe Tamamori and Miyata aren't quite as mature as Senga thought.