Love Is A Many Splendored Thing (Kitayama/Totsuka, NC-17)

[yeska_noka]

Title: Love Is A Many Splendored Thing
Pairing/Group: Kitayama/Totsuka
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None.
Notes: A big thank you to timeripple, who helped turn this into what it is, and didn't let me leave it as what it was. Written for Talisa_Ahn for je_holiday. It was written mostly in September, with a few adjustments before submitting it two weeks before deadline, so I'm just going to date this as Sept. 15th right in the middle there. :P
Summary: Five times Kitayama knows it's love, and one time Totsuka knows the same thing.



Kitayama opens his eyes when he feels the couch dip next to him.

"Hey," Totsuka says, and Kitayama gives a wordless greeting in return before closing his eyes again. They sit in silence for a minute or two, just enjoying their break, until a few other members of Ebikisu come tumbling loudly into the dressing room.

"You did not!" Kawai shouts, and Fujigaya smacks him in the head while Hashimoto giggles. While he doesn't particularly care to find out who didn't do whatever, Kitayama opens his eyes to watch as Kawai attempts to hide behind A.B.C-Z's tallest member, who is in turn trying to evade Fujigaya. They end up behind Tamamori, who looks less than amused when he gets elbowed in the neck by the combined flailing.

Kitayama and Totsuka are ignored as the dressing room fills up, which is just as they like it. The others spread out in little clumps around the room, poking at iPods and trading snacks, Tamamori ironing his hair (again) and ignoring Miyata's monologue about some anime other than a periodic noise to keep him going. Goseki is working with Hashimoto on some of his lines.

"...Imagine if Hashimoto really was your leader," Kitayama murmurs, just loud enough to be sure that Totsuka can hear him.

"It'd never work," Totsuka says. "Nobody would listen to him."

"You almost always listen to him," Kitayama points out, because it's true.

"Almost always," Totsuka argues, which is also true.

Kitayama doesn't need to turn to know that Totsuka is looking at him. He closes his eyes, bored with watching Hashimoto read from his script. "Because you dote on him," Kitayama says.

"Mm," Totsuka agrees, and then after a moment, "Are you jealous?"

Kitayama smiles. "No." Totsuka isn't asking seriously, anyway; they both know that Kitayama isn't. "I've had you long before Hashimoto even had a chance."

"He never had a chance," Totsuka says. "I won't change my mind."

"It never occurred to me that you would," Kitayama replies. The sofa shifts again as Totsuka moves and Kitayama cracks an eye open to glance at him when Totsuka leans his head against Kitayama's shoulder.

"Comfy." Totsuka grins at him, and Kitayama gives him a small smile in return before letting his eyes fall shut again. Seriously nap time.

Theirs is a quiet relationship, Kitayama thinks, the kind where no one even knows they're together until they're told. Kitayama likes it that way. The days of sharing a train line are over - Kitayama has his own place now - but Totsuka still comes home with him more often than not. But it's not what people think. Or maybe it is. They spend their time together just like this. They read, they watch TV, they cook and eat and sleep and enjoy just being in each other's presence. There's sex, too, and it's not that Kitayama doesn't enjoy it, because he really, really does. It's more that it's just not the first thing he thinks of when he thinks of Totsuka.

Totsuka is his refuge, maybe. The quiet, calm center of his life when everything else gets loud and crazy around him. Totsuka can get loud and crazy, too, and he makes Kitayama laugh, makes him happy, but he always knows exactly when Kitayama needs a break or a shoulder to lean on. Or someone to lean on his shoulder, as the case may be.

Kitayama takes a deep breath and he can smell Totsuka, his hair smelling of shampoo and sweat and brushing Kitayama's jaw. He doesn't have long to enjoy the moment, though, eyes snapping open at the click of a camera to find Mis Snow Man's Watanabe pointing a cellphone at his and Totsuka's faces.

"Why you..." Kitayama growls, and Kawai laughs maniacally behind him while Totsuka keeps him from going after Watanabe as he darts away. Kitayama settles back into the couch and frowns.

Totsuka twists around. "You dared him to, didn't you?"

Kitayama cranes his neck to see, and Kawai is making the most unbelievable innocent face (unbelievable being the key word). Totsuka stares him down, saying nothing.

"Eh, I may have," Kawai finally cracks, but he's grinning and doesn't look sorry in the least.

"You're lucky I like you," Kitayama murmurs to Totsuka, "because otherwise I'd kill half your group members."

This is love.

It's earlier than usual, but with nothing good on TV and no movies to watch, Kitayama and Totsuka retire to bed. Totsuka still has a book he's working through, but Kitayama doesn't, and Totsuka won't leave him bored. A lack of clothes usually guarantees at least something interesting, but at the moment, Totsuka isn't doing anything fun.

"That's my arm," Kitayama points out as Totsuka kisses his skin again.

"That's okay," Totsuka says, kissing a centimeter closer to his elbow. "I like every part of you."

Kitayama chuckles. "Suit yourself." It doesn't feel particularly good, or particularly bad, or particularly anything at all, really; it's his arm. But if it makes Totsuka happy...

After a few minutes, though, Kitayama gets a bit impatient.

"Hey," he says, tugging on Totsuka's wrist. "Try kissing something more interesting, huh?"

Totsuka doesn't protest as Kitayama pulls him up. "I suppose I could..." Totsuka gives him a smirk as he leans down, and then Kitayama can feel it against his mouth.

A small nip gets the smirk to relax into a smile.

"Mm."

"Be careful," Totsuka whispers.

"Hm?"

"'Cause your kiss can make this love become so dangerous," Totsuka sings softly, and Kitayama can't help laughing a little.

"Isn't that my line?" he asks.

Totsuka grins. "Is it? I didn't know my kisses could be dangerous."

"Well," Kitayama teases. "Maybe only when you try really hard."

Totsuka's eyes sparkle, and Kitayama loses his smile in his distraction. "I guess I'll just have to try really hard, then."

"Um," Kitayama manages, and then Totsuka distracts him further.

This is love.

"What's it like, with Tottsu?" Hashimoto asks, looking curious and innocent for all that Kitayama can see.

"None of your business," Kitayama answers, and he sends Hashimoto along with a flutter of his fingers. He presses those fingers to his forehead; he can feel a headache coming on.

Totsuka's hand covers his own, his other hand sliding up into Kitayama's hair to rub at the base of his skull.

"I apologize for him," Totsuka says, not sounding particularly apologetic.

Kitayama hums. "He's like a child. He says these things, but then..."

"He is a child."

"Only sort of."

"Only mostly." Hashimoto is bigger than both of them.

"Mm." Kitayama drops his hands and lets Totsuka take over completely, fingers pressing gentle and cool in all the right places until the tension is gone.

"Okay," Kitayama says, reaching up to take hold of Totsuka's wrist. He pulls Totsuka's hand away from his forehead, but doesn't let go of him. "Better now."

"Good." Totsuka smiles at him. "Go out to eat with me?"

Kitayama can't hold back a grin. "I thought we already decided that."

"We did. But don't you want to actually do it? These things need to be planned, you know."

"Silly." Kitayama shakes his head. "After the show tonight."

"Nope," Totsuka answers. "You'd just take me for ramen again."

"So?"

"So, when you invite me for food, I expect a real date. Let's do it next week, when we're finished."

It's kind of funny that they have to ask each other on dates. It's just that they've been together so long now that unless something is specified as a date, it's not one. It's just normal. Not that there's a whole lot of difference either way, but sometimes a "date" is nice.

They plan for dinner and a movie, traditional, but that's okay. Totsuka usually goes to see movies alone, Kitayama more interested in heading out with friends. They have very different lifestyles and it's fine for them. They spend enough time together at work or at home, so if Kitayama is more of an active person than Totsuka, it doesn't bother them to spend time apart doing the things they enjoy. But next week, they'll do something together.

"Dress nice," Kitayama winks. "I'll pick you up at a quarter to six."

This is love.

He might have picked him up, but Kitayama is certainly not dropping Totsuka off anywhere. He only just manages to lock his front door before Totsuka is pressed close against his back, hands grabbing Kitayama's hips for balance.

"Thank you for joining me tonight, Hiromitsu," Totsuka murmurs in his ear.

Kitayama peels himself away so that he can take off his shoes. He grins. "You drank too much wine."

"I didn't," Totsuka argues, giving up for the moment and untying his laces. "I don't have to be drunk to be sexy."

Kitayama snorts. "That was sexy?" Well, it kind of was, but Totsuka can do a lot better if pushed. He steps up into his apartment and heads straight for his bedroom to hang up his jacket. Totsuka follows and grabs him from behind again, so that Kitayama has to stretch to get his jacket on a hanger when Totsuka doesn't let him move.

"You like it," Totsuka says, sounding confident, and he's not wrong. He kisses a spot just behind Kitayama's ear and Kitayama knows the rest of his clothes have no chance of being put away nicely.

"I like it," he admits, and twists his head enough so that he can capture Totsuka's mouth with his own. The kiss only lasts a few seconds, the angle awkward, but Totsuka holds on tight.

"We're not going to get very far if you won't let go," Kitayama chuckles.

"Oh, I don't know about that." Totsuka kisses his neck again, hands starting to roam.

Slow and torturous, then. Well. That is hot, not that Kitayama says it out loud. "Mm," he concedes, and he lets his head drop back against Totsuka's shoulder.

"How about we do it just like this?" Totsuka suggests, and he pulls Kitayama tighter against him to demonstrate.

"Mm," Kitayama says again, and considers it. He's more partial to a bed or soft surface where he can shove Totsuka down and not have to work too hard at it, or even to the shower where he doesn't have to worry about the cleanup. But it's Totsuka, and really anywhere is probably okay with him, especially if all Kitayama has to do is stand there and enjoy it. "Yeah, okay," he says, decided.

Totsuka still takes his sweet time about it, apparently in no rush. He kisses the side of Kitayama's neck, one hand coming up to stroke along his neck and jaw. Kitayama lets Totsuka turn his head to kiss him again.

"You still taste like wine," Kitayama mutters, and then cuts off any reply by chasing that taste with his tongue. He still can't turn around, so he reaches up behind him to get a hand in Totsuka's hair, soft strands slipping through his fingers as he pulls Totsuka into a better angle.

The kiss only lasts a bit longer than the last one before Kitayama has to turn and stretch his neck. Totsuka switches to nibbling on his earlobe instead and Kitayama bites his own lip to keep from making any embarrassing noises. Totsuka's hands feel good against his skin when they slip up under his shirt, smoothing along his sides and running over his ribs. It tickles a little, but Totsuka soothes that away, hands flat and firm and holding Kitayama against him even as he explores the contours of his body. A thumb brushing over his nipple sends the first trickles of real arousal through him, and Kitayama fights the urge to squirm. He won't ask for anything, not yet.

Totsuka tugs off Kitayama's shirt, pulling it up over his head so that he can slide his hands up across Kitayama's collar bone without interference. He uses one hand to take hold of Kitayama's throat, fingers placed on either side of his neck with no pressure, and Kitayama smiles. Totsuka has his moments, particularly slightly inebriated ones, where he likes to challenge Kitayama, not so much a test as a confirmation. Are you really mine?, it asks. Kitayama is. After a moment, Totsuka's fingers move to flutter against the hollow of his throat, playing with Kitayama's necklace for a few seconds before pulling away. Totsuka lets him go for a moment and Kitayama doesn't move, just glances back to watch as Totsuka takes off his shirts.

"You could leave them on," Kitayama suggests, not that he doesn't enjoy when Totsuka's thoroughly naked. He leans into his chest when Totsuka wraps arms around him again, Totsuka warm all across the skin of his back.

"Why would I do that?" Totsuka mutters, mouthing again at his ear.

"Gives me something to hold on to," Kitayama explains.

"Ever practical," Totsuka admits, and Kitayama twitches at the little laugh that puffs against his ear. "You'll just have to work harder."

Kitayama reaches behind him to grab Totsuka's ass instead. "Fine."

Totsuka laughs again.

"Stop that!" Kitayama scolds, tilting his head away, but pressed together the way they are, it isn't very effective.

"Stop what?" Totsuka asks, an innocent lilt to his voice just before he blows into Kitayama's ear entirely on purpose.

Kitayama jerks in his arms. "That!" Even though Totsuka clearly knows exactly what. "It tickles!" It also sends shivers down his spine, but Totsuka probably knows that as well, the goosebumps across Kitayama's skin a dead giveaway.

"You know, I really like your elbows," Totsuka says, apropos of nothing.

Kitayama chuckles and relaxes, ears safe for the moment. "What?"

"Your elbows," Totsuka repeats, punctuating the statement with a hand on Kitayama's said anatomy. "They're so very you."

"That's so very weird," Kitayama retorts when Totsuka doesn't explain further, but there's no bite to it. It's Totsuka, after all, and he's weird. Kitayama likes it. He refrains from pointing out that Totsuka likes every part of him; it's not the first time he's expressed a love for a seemingly random part of Kitayama's body.

"Here," Totsuka says, and he uses his grip on Kitayama's elbows to tug his arms away from Totsuka's ass. "Hold on like this instead." He guides Kitayama until his arms are raised above his head, fingers clasped, and then pulls them back far enough that Totsuka can duck through the circle. Kitayama flexes his fingers against the back of Totsuka's neck.

"Any particular reason?"

"Nothing in the way now," Totsuka answers, and puts his hands on Kitayama's raised elbows, running them slowly down to his underarms and then further, one long sweep down Kitayama's body and up again.
"Mm," Kitayama says, feeling warmer. "I see." He relaxes into him as Totsuka goes back to kissing whatever he can reach, hands all over and making Kitayama's skin tingle with the brush of it, sensitive enough that when Totsuka pauses to play with his nipples, Kitayama finds himself suddenly and strongly aroused. The heat flushed across his skin pools quickly in his groin and he grows harder with every pass of Totsuka's fingertips.

"Shota," he murmurs, and he can't help shifting in his embrace.

"There we go," Totsuka replies. "Took you long enough."

"I drank a bunch," Kitayama argues, but it's not a real excuse. He doesn't react strongly to such indirect touches in general and they both know that. He's old enough that he's not going to get it up just for a hand running across his abdomen anymore - not unless he's already worked up over something to begin with. Unless Totsuka goes right for the kill, Kitayama's not going to be begging for it for quite a while. "You wanted to play," Kitayama adds.

"So I did."

Totsuka's hands are moving lower now, getting more serious as he rubs the skin just above the waistband of Kitayama's jeans. Kitayama has to let go for them to remove the rest of their clothes, and then Totsuka is maneuvering them both closer to the wall. Kitayama takes a step forward so he can brace himself on his arms as Totsuka leans on him, and now he can feel all of Totsuka pressed against him. He's not quite hard yet, not like Kitayama, but Kitayama can feel his interest growing when he pushes his ass back against Totsuka's hips. He's rewarded with a breathy little moan that Totsuka muffles into his hair.

"You sure you don't mind?" Totsuka asks as he smooths his palms down the fronts of Kitayama's thighs, running them back up the insides in a functional tease, pushing Kitayama's legs a bit further apart as he goes.

"I'm good," Kitayama says, and he is. He's up for whatever Totsuka wants tonight. He leans his head against his hands as Totsuka reaches the top of his thighs and quits his teasing, wrapping a hand around Kitayama's cock and giving him a few slow strokes.

Totsuka pulls away. "Stay there?"

"Yeah." Kitayama keeps his head against his hands, fighting the urge to reach down and continue what Totsuka has started, his cock heavy between his legs. He waits as Totsuka grabs the lube and a condom from one of Kitayama's drawers.

"Here," he says, and hands the foil packet to Kitayama to hold. He runs his hand down Kitayama's back and over his ass, fingers slipping down his crease; the foil edges dig into Kitayama's palm as he clenches his fist.

"Ready?" Totsuka asks.

"Whenever you are."

Kitayama squeezes his eyes shut as Totsuka spreads him open, cool air touching his skin for just a moment before it's replaced with the warmth of Totsuka's fingers. Kitayama shudders as those fingers rub teasingly across his entrance and then gasps when Totsuka drips lube down his ass without warning. "Cold!"

Totsuka laughs, low and rough with interest. "Sorry," he says, and sounds genuine despite the deeper tone. He smooths the gel around for a few moments so that when he presses a finger inside, Kitayama feels nothing but the heat of his skin, warm and pleasant and good.

"How's that?"

"Nice," Kitayama hums, and relaxes as Totsuka moves within him. It's a pleasant sort of feeling, just a little pressure, a little heat to keep the arousal swirling in his abdomen. The second finger brings a burn that soon settles into a warmer sensation, fuller, more intense. Kitayama's heart starts to beat faster.

"Aren't you ready yet?" Totsuka inquires when he's multiple-fingers deep inside Kitayama, voice sounding tight.

In truth, Kitayama's been ready for a while, but it's more fun to make Totsuka wait for it, and Kitayama doesn't mind holding out a little longer. "A bit more," he breathes.

"Hiromitsu, Totsuka whines, and Kitayama can feel his erection pressing against his ass when Totsuka flexes his hips.

Kitayama laughs, the movement clenching him tight around Totsuka's fingers and making them both groan. "I'm ready, I'm ready," he says, grinning. He hands the condom packet over.

Kitayama braces himself on his forearms against the wall as Totsuka grabs his hips.

"On three," Totsuka says, and it's so absurd and so him that Kitayama laughs, missing the count entirely. His laugh becomes a moan as Totsuka slides inside, not stretching quite as much as his four fingers had, but reaching deeper, so much deeper, satisfying.

"A-ahh..." Kitayama lets his head hang, his forehead resting against his arms as Totsuka fills him completely.

"How's this?" Totsuka asks him, rolling his hips a bit and sending a wave of heat rolling through Kitayama's body.

"Mm," Kitayama manages. He's too focused on the feel of Totsuka shifting within him to think about making sentences. It's not like they need words to communicate, anyway.

"Shota," Kitayama groans, Totsuka starting up a rhythm strong enough to lift him onto his toes. He pushes back, liking the way Totsuka's fingers tighten on his hips when he does. "Fuck."

Totsuka's got stamina, but so does Kitayama; they can keep this up for a while.

By the time Totsuka asks if he doesn't want to hold on, sweat is dripping from the ends of Kitayama's hair and Totsuka's skin is slick when Kitayama reaches back to do as he was asked.

"Shoulda kept the shirt," he gasps, trying to pull Totsuka into him, his fingers sliding. He digs in deep enough to bruise, but Totsuka doesn't seem to mind if the way he groans is any indication. Kitayama's left arm shakes with the effort of bracing them both, but he holds on, knowing he won't have to do it for much longer. He can barely breathe. He feels like he's in a sauna, but with the heat coming from inside himself, from Totsuka in and around him, burning pleasure that can only be contained for so long. "Come on."

Totsuka is making a steady stream of noise in his ear, moans and pleas made from unintelligible words, his chest pressed tight and damp against Kitayama's back, and Kitayama can feel droplets of sweat - his or Totsuka's, he's not sure - tickling their way down his neck.

"You've gotta... be close..." Kitayama manages, all air, because he's really damn close himself.

Totsuka answers by biting down on his shoulder, one hand releasing his hip to reach around and circle Kitayama's cock.

"Ah, fuck," Kitayama cries out, and Totsuka's hand moves in time with his thrusts, fast, fast, faster. "Shota."

He can feel it clearly when Totsuka comes, a harsh stuttering of his hips and the catch of Totsuka's breath in his ear. But Totsuka's hand doesn't stop moving and Kitayama pushes back against him, closer, right there, and the fire explodes into fireworks that tingle all the way out to the tips of his toes.

"We made a mess," Kitayama says when they've mostly recovered. They're relocated to the bed and Totsuka is wrapped around and over him like a blanket, comfortable and warm, if a tad heavy.

"We did," Totsuka agrees. He tilts his head to kiss Kitayama again, slow and lingering.

Kitayama sighs into the kiss, content for a moment, and then sighs again when Totsuka stops, thinking of the mess on his wall. "I'll have to clean that in the morning."

"It's okay," Totsuka says. "I can do it now. Easier before it gets too dry."

Ever practical. Kitayama smiles. "But then I'd lose my blanket." He wraps an arm up over Totsuka's shoulders to demonstrate. "So don't think you're going anywhere."

"Whatever you say." Totsuka kisses his smile.

They'll deal with it in the morning.

This is love.

"New sweats?" Senga asks, nodding at Kitayama's red exercise clothes.

"Kind of," Kitayama answers.

Yokoo unhelpfully spells it out for him. "Aren't those Tottsu's?"

Kitayama gives him a look. Thanks ever so much. "They were clean," is all he says.

"Aw," Fujigaya coos. "How frightfully domestic, sharing clothes."

"Shut it, 'Gaya," Kitayama says halfheartedly, not quite caring enough to put some snap into it. No one needs to know that half his closet is actually filled with Totsuka's stuff. Or visa versa; he never has to worry about bringing a change with him when he goes to stay. They don't usually wear each other's clothes, but it happens.

"Why do you even know that, Wataru?"

Yokoo shrugs.

Fujigaya doesn't shut it. "Do you do his laundry for him?" he teases.

"Not usually, no." Kitayama's glare isn't any more fierce than before. Not worth the energy. It's true, though: he doesn't usually do Totsuka's laundry. Totsuka does his. And there's nothing wrong with having your boyfriend do your laundry, Kitayama thinks. At least it's not his mother.

When they meet with A.B.C.-Z for rehearsal, Totsuka just eyes the pants and gives him a small, knowing smile. "I'll come over later," he says quietly, "if you make me dinner."

This is love.

Totsuka is tired, he has a headache, and there is a Hashimoto hanging on his shoulder.

It's this last bit that troubles him the most, because it's exacerbating the second issue and he's not sure what to do about it.

Totsuka likes Hashimoto, he really does. In that proper, older-brother way, too, despite a lot of people claiming otherwise. Despite Hashimoto claiming otherwise. Totsuka likes him, but he's not interested and isn't ever going to be, and he doesn't want to hurt Hashimoto by telling him that. Neither does he want to lead him on. And so Totsuka is clear in as unsubtle a way as he can be, but it's still a bit too subtle for Hashimoto (most things are), and it's not working.

"Hashimoto," Kitayama snaps, appearing in the doorway. He nods his head in an obvious dismissal.

Hashimoto looks up in surprise. "Eh? But..."

Kitayama stares him down (or up, as the case may be), and after a long silence, Out. is all he needs to say.

"Ah! Yup, yes, right. Out. Okay," Hashimoto babbles, and disappears in a controlled flailing-of-limbs.

Kitayama drops into a nearby chair and doesn't look like he's taken any satisfaction in kicking Hashimoto out. It's not that he doesn't like the Z (he does). He doesn't do it out of jealousy or possessiveness. He does it purely because Totsuka won't do it for himself.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

Totsuka doesn't want to worry him with the truth. "Thankful."

Kitayama gives him a wry smile, clearly seeing right through him. "That crappy, huh?"

"I'm sure I'll feel better later," Totsuka says, and he knows he will. Kitayama will take care of him and make sure that he does.

This is love.