Gift fic for mousapelli!
Gift fic for mousapelli
From kis_my_fic2
Title: Hesitation
Pairings/Characters: Miyata/Tamamori
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: sex, feelings, a little mild dirty talking, shifting perspective
Summary: Tamamori wants something and the time to hesitate is through but he manages to hesitate all the same.
Notes: Around 5300 words. For mousapelli. I hope you like this. Despite the length, there is really no plot to speak of, but there is porn, so. . .maybe that makes up for it? >.> I hope so, anyway.
The trouble, Tamamori thought, was that he didn't really know what the trouble was. On some subconscious level he knew he wasn't quite happy with something in his relationship with Miyata. On just about every other level, though, his subconscious was vehemently shaking its head and denying that anything was wrong, anything needed to be done, or that there was any relationship at all. What they had was easy. Closer than ordinary friendship, they were comfortable with each other to the point of not needing words sometimes, which worked to both of their benefit, and there had been more than a few really nice kisses and the one time when there was more than that, which Tama blushed with embarrassment even remembering. The one thing there had never been, not even once, was any pressure to define their terms or make any promises. But Tama found himself thinking about a repeat of that event more often than he wanted to admit to himself and he had to figure out exactly what it was he was hoping would happen.
This was a time for sorting out feelings through extensive inner monologuing, but Tamamori wasn't fond of feelings and even less fond of inner monologuing, let alone the extensive kind. Neither thing was really his strong suit and he couldn't have been less interested in improving his game.
So what to do? He'd have to talk to Miyata about it. Tamamori could feel his lip curl in distaste for the idea of sitting Miyata down for a relationship talk, but on the other hand, if they talked, Miyata would end the conversation with a shrug and a smile and a 'don't worry about it, okay?' and Tamamori would feel better.
Nothing for it then. Tamamori wondered when would be a good time to say something. Sooner was probably better than later. He had things to do and he didn't want this doubt niggling around in the back of his head while he tried to do them.
He glanced over at Miyata and Yokoo getting pawed at by wardrobe people making adjustments just like he was. They had about a half hour after this before practice. Maybe after the wardrobe meeting, then.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Miyata had become a master of watching Tama without seeming like he was. Granted, most of the time he didn't bother employing the methods he had at his disposal, but there were times when it was beneficial, having the opportunity to read Tama without the burden of reading aloud.
It wasn't too hard not letting the other guys see him, but more often than not, Tamamori could still feel him watching. Flying in under Tamamori's radar was the real challenge.
Sometimes Tamamori made it entirely too easy, though, like today. Generally, one could get away with being mostly checked out during wardrobe fittings. The styling was done, there were no real questions aside from 'would you raise your arm, please' or 'can you please change into this?'
But today, Tamamori had taken preoccupation to a new level. Miyata could tell that something was bothering him and, as with all things Tama, he wanted to know what was going on. So when Tama asked him if they could talk over lunch, Miyata said sure. Of course, there wasn't much chance of him saying no, was there?
He knew from the look on Tama's face that this was a feelings conversation. However, when Tamamori spent twenty of their thirty minutes sitting next to Miyata in the hallway and not getting to the point, Miyata changed his mind about wanting to know what was going on. Instead of waiting for Tamamori to explain his feelings, Miyata decided to try a different tack.
Distraction.
Tama would get around to it eventually, but in the meantime, if he wasn't thinking about it, it wouldn't bother him. Miyata made a split-second decision to try something that was sort of foreign to him and go on the offensive.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
"You going?" he asked.
"Yeah," Tama replied, "My phone alarm will go off any second. I am due there like now." The rehearsal schedule had him, Fujigaya, and Kitayama with the choreographer learning new steps while Yokoo went over the background skate choreo with the others in the skate studio. "I, um. . ." Tama began, but trailed off without further explanation.
"You want to try to talk again later?"
Tama looked at his feet. "Yeah, sounds fine."
"You want to tell me what about?"
"Maybe later."
Miyata exhaled steadily; not so much a sigh, or even an indication of judgement, more a measured breath that bespoke a willingness to be patient. At least that's what Tama imagined, because that's what Miyata always was, right? Patient.
Tama met his eyes but couldn't read what was written there, so he wasn't prepared when Miyata gently pushed him back against the wall they had been sitting against and leaned close.
For a moment Tama thought Miyata was reading his mind- stranger things had happened, right? - and he half-expected Miyata to kiss him. He looked down, willing his eyes not to flutter like a girl's, but Miyata never quite got close enough to do it.
The way he moved was like falling in slow motion, inching closer to Tama, catching himself against the wall with his right hand next to Tama's head, bending slightly and straightening again, letting their hips brush together so lightly that if it had been done quickly, Tama would have believed it accidental. Miyata was close now, still breathing those steady, patient breaths, but now Tama could feel the heat of them on the side of his neck. Maybe Miyata was going to whisper something into his ear?
But no. Saying nothing, Miyata pulled away slowly, lingering with their faces close and only moving back after Tama finally glanced up to Miyata's eyes. Tama wasn't really sure what was happening, but whatever it was, he wasn't processing it well.
Miyata's voice was low and sexy, like he was saying something much dirtier than his words really were, "Don't forget your bag."
Tama drew his brows together, trying to make something out of the look in Miyata's eyes, but when he blinked it was gone and Miyata was at a safe, normal distance, holding Tama's bag in his left hand and giving him a guileless smile.
"Right." What the hell was that? Tama's inner voice shouted. What indeed. Whatever had happened, Tama was pretty sure Miyata hadn't kissed him, despite the fact that with his racing heartbeat and hotly flushed face, it felt for all the world like he had.
Tama's phone alarm went off, snapping him out of it and reminding him he really needed to get going. He grabbed his bag from Miyata and left. Before he turned the corner, heading for the studio, he stole a look over his shoulder at Miyata, wanting to catch him staring or something, anything to validate the idea that that moment had been meaningful or at least unusual, but Miyata was just piling his drink bottle and iPod into his bag and gathering the wrapper from his conbini sandwich to throw away. Perfectly regular.
Drop it, Tama said to himself.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Miyata waited until Tama had turned the corner and was out of sight to allow himself a satisfied smile. If his goal was to distract Tama, and it was, then he figured he had achieved it at least for today. He had no trouble deducing what Tamamori wanted to talk about but he also knew they had another two or three of these serious conversation attempts to go before Tamamori got to the point.
Eventually they would get to the point of defining this thing; this more than best friends, not boyfriends, but definitely not interested in seeing anyone else thing that they had going. Of course the other guys had mostly all at one point or another asked them what the deal was, but Tamamori was not interested in making any kind of statements and Miyata was not interested in forcing him to. The fact that Tama had seemingly out of nowhere decided it was time to say something was a little strange, but Miyata was, as ever, interested in doing whatever it was Tama felt like.
Miyata slowed in the hall to peek through the sliver of a window in the door to the dance studio on his way to the skate studio. Tama was stretching his arms over his head so that his tee rode up a little and showed a wide stripe of belly.
"You're doing it again," Senga said walking past him. Miyata caught up to his friend in a few easy strides.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Miyata said, fooling no one.
"Is he going to make an honest man out of you?" Senga prodded. It was out of character for him to comment much on Miyata's personal life so Miyata had no prepared response. After a moment of Miyata's blank stare, Senga continued, "Just don't let him jerk you around or anything."
"It's not like that," Miyata said as they headed into the studio where Yokoo was explaining some of the stage blocking to Nikaido.
Senga gave him an honest, level look. "I know. I'm just saying."
Miyata nodded as if to say 'thanks for looking out for me, friend, even though you know I don't need looking out for," set down his stuff and got to work.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
"Tamamori, I swear to god, if we have to do this one more time I am going to skin you alive. For the last damned time, it's left, right, swivel with the shoulder snap, walk, walk, pose, and then wait your goddamned turn before you turn around. Ripple effect! Ripple. Effect. You go on three. Not one. Three! Now I am tired, I want to go eat dinner, and I think I am getting cramps -"
"That explains it," Kitayama muttered barely under his breath.
"Leg cramps, fuck you very much, Kitayama. Now, Tama, do you think we can get this before hell freezes over?"
"Yes. I'm sorry," Tamamori said, properly chastised. To be fair, they had been trying to get this sequence for the last twenty or thirty minutes and Tama was hardly even managing to keep his head in the game enough to count to eight. He was just as angry with himself as Taipi was.
Hours later, when they broke for dinner, Tamamori moseyed over to the skate studio, you know, just to see how things were going. He couldn't deny his disappointment when he found the room empty.
"If you're looking for Miyata, he went to grab dinner with Senga like forty-five minutes ago. They will be back soon," Fujigaya said as he came into the studio behind Tamamori.
Tamamori saw no point in denying it. "How do you know that?"
"Watta just told me. He was going to go with them, but . . . I don't know, something about he didn't want to eat at soba twice in two days? Who knows. He was down in the Mess when I went to get this," he explained, gesturing with his half-eaten sandwich and open bottle of tea.
"Ah."
"Listen, sorry about before. What is your deal anyway? Did something happen?"
Tama shook his head. "No."
"Okay, well, if this is a you-and-Miyacchi thing, you need to do a better job of not letting it affect your work."
Tama made an affirmative sound.
"More importantly, my work," Taipi continued.
"Yeah, okay." Tamamori could get behind that idea, he just didn't know exactly how.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Later that night, after work, they had a moment to themselves when they were both on their way out of the building. But Tamamori was tired and didn't feel like he had one of those discussions in him. Definitely not if he didn't know what exactly he wanted to say in that discussion.
"Hey," Miyata said, seeing the stress in the crinkle between Tama's brows. "Everything okay?"
Tamamori shrugged as if to say 'Not really but I don't want to get into it.'
"Ready to go home?"
Tamamori nodded wearily.
It seemed natural to Tamamori that Miyata should follow him home.
They sat in amiable silence on the train and foraged a snack in the kitchen when they got home with an air of comfortable routine. Tamamori was fairly pleased with himself that at no point did he blurt out 'I think I might want more from our relationship I keep feeling all these feelings and I don't like them and I want them to go away can we make out just a little I think it would really take the edge off please okay thanks.'
Soon they found themselves bedding down for the night in a way that felt both completely normal and terribly awkward. Tamamori was pretty sure the awkwardness was just for him, though.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Miyata followed Tamamori home, unwilling to leave him alone to stew in his thoughts and hoping to find a another opening to get under Tamamori's skin.
If he played his cards right, Miyata thought, he might be able to worm his way right into the circle of Tama's arms and steal a few more delicious kisses before Tama pushed him away saying "Stop being weird," as usual.
But it seemed like he'd blown this hand. They were laying side by side on twin futons in Tamamori's dark room. He stared into the darkness trying to think of a way to just drag Tamamori over onto his bed and kiss him senseless. He wasn't really coming up with anything brilliant, though.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Tamamori lay on his side, facing Miyata's futon, barely able to tell there was someone there at all except for that fact that he could feel him there, just breathing, minding his own business and probably not thinking over and over again about the time they had shared Tamamori's futon and and ended up with their hands in each other's pants.
There have been loads of occasions like this since that one night and yet nothing had happened aside from a few kisses. Usually slightly tipsy or tired kisses. Easily ignored. But when they were sleeping in the same room it felt different. Sometimes it felt like they slept in the same room all the time. But it was just the hyper-awareness he felt that made it seem that way.
"Are you still awake?" Tamamori whispered into the darkness of his room, cringing inwardly at how dumb he sounded.
Miyata rolled over to face Tama's direction and said, "Yep," not sounding remotely sleepy.
For a few long minutes Tamamori said nothing, focused on the tiny reflection of light in the moisture of Miyata's eyes that let him know in the near-pitch blackness that Miyata's eyes were open. Then he said, "I was just thinking about that time. You remember that one time when you slept in my bed and-"
"Yeah, I remember," Miyata cut him off, leaning up on his elbow.
Tamamori could feel Miyata peering into the dark, trying to make out his face. He kept his eyes resolutely on the middle distance between himself and Miyata's now-empty pillow.
"What about it?" Miyata prompted.
Tamamori searched his brain for words that said 'I want to do that again. And again and again and again until we pass out from it' but that didn't sound quite so. . .much like that. He found none. "Nothing. Forget about it."
And, knowing Miyata the way he did, he knew Miyata would give a good-natured shrug and a huff and let it go.
Except that he didn't. Miyata snaked his arm under Tamamori's comforter and shrugged the blanket up and over his shoulder so that he was between Tamamori and the blanket, hovering over Tama and caging him in with his hands resting on Tama's futon.
"I have a different idea," Miyata said, his voice sounding gruff. "How about we don't."
Miyata dropped down close to Tama's face and had him cursing the darkness. It was more of that fleeting heat from before, in the hallway at work, and Tama wished he could see the look in Miyata's eyes.
He felt like he was being tested and he didn't want to fail the test.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Miyata was glad of the dark. It kept him from seeing if there was shock or confusion in Tama's eyes. He figured he'd just keep nudging until Tama responded one way or the other, but he didn't want to lose his nerve.
It had been easy to fake it at work today when he had the element of surprise and he didn't have to sustain the act of bravado, but he wasn't really the fearless type at all. He lowered his mouth to just above Tama's but stopped short of his lips in favor of finding the juncture of jaw to neck just under Tama's ear and letting his teeth graze the sensitive skin there.
Tama let his head fall to the side to give Miyata access, so he wasn't about to stop. He trailed kisses down and back up his neck, then up over Tama's jawline. When he finally captured Tama's mouth with his own, Tama's hands came up off the bed to tangle in the back of his T-shirt, grasping handfuls of cotton and lifting the shirt away to allow him to splay his hands over Miyata's back and pull him down.
Tama rolled his body up against Miyata's and he couldn't help but groan into the kiss at the feeling of their chests pressing together, then their stomachs, then their hips. And then Tama did it again, and again.
Tama didn't seem to want to stop kissing him as Miyata put an ever-so-slightly trembling hand on the side of Tama's face and pulled back just enough to gulp down the steamy air between their mouths. Tama didn't stop, though, he grabbed Miyata's ass with two hands and rolled his hips up into Miyata's, hard.
Miyata's thoughts suddenly became about as coherent as his words. "NghTamaFuck"
Tamamori slung a long leg up over Miyata's hip and Miyata could feel Tamamori's erection pressing against his hipbone through all the layers of jersey knit and had a brief flashback to that last time.
They had been in this very room, in this bed, even, and had somehow managed to find themselves with sweaty hands around each others' cocks, barely able to keep their mouths apart long enough to tell each other what they liked or when they were coming.
Miyata was distracted enough by Tama's leg around his waist and the not-at-all-familiar-enough feeling of Tamamori hard against him that he didn't realize that Tama was flipping him onto his back until his head hit futon and Tamamori was using his chest as leverage to push away from their kiss and rock his body back into a straddling position.
Miyata felt like he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Tamamori's hips felt like they were moving of their own accord, making a subtle circular motion while he grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it up over his head. He wanted to feel skin on skin. He could feel with his fingers the heat coming off of Miyata and his heart pounding against his ribs when he touched Miyata's chest; he wanted to feel it with his whole body.
He reached down to pull Miyata's shirt up but Miyata's hands were already there, divesting them of the unwanted barrier. Miyata seemed to pick up on the idea of getting naked and took charge of his own pants while Tamamori left his lap long enough to wriggle out of a pair of beat-up sweats and flick his curtains open enough to give them a little moonlight to see by.
The moment they were back together, though, Miyata wrapped a big hand around both of them and gave them a long stroke. Tama convulsed on a shockwave of unexpected pleasure, but caught himself before he collapsed on top of Miyata. His head hanging, he took a moment to catch his breath. He could feel the tips of his hair dragging through the sweat beading on Miyata's chest.
Although the sight of Miyata's hand around both of them was seriously hot and Tama died a little inside to say it, he harshly whispered, "Don't touch me."
"What?" Miyata sounded confused and betrayed.
"Not like last time," Tama explained.
"I don't-" Miyata began but Tama wasn't paying attention, he was stroking Miyata with two hands, licking the pad of one thumb and running it over the flushed head of Miyata's cock and it was all Miyata could do to keep his eyes from rolling back into is head at the sights and sensations. But it didn't last very long before Tamamori was up off him, still hovering above Miyata but reaching over to his bedside table.
He pulled the drawer out and tried to root around the back of it but he didn't have the right angle on it and couldn't find what he was looking for. He was wrestling with the bedside table, trying to get it to give up its treasure when Miyata pushed up onto his elbows and said "What are you doing?"
Miyata sitting up overbalanced Tama and be barely caught himself from falling when the table drawer toppled out onto the floor, showering its contents everywhere. But Tama spotted what he was looking for and sat back with a "Hah!" of triumph. "Sorry, what?" he asked Miyata.
"I said, What are you doing?"
"Whatever I want." Tama gave him a doubtful look, "It's okay, right?"
In answer, Miyata lay back down and nodded, running his hands up Tama's thighs and back down again. Tama slicked his own fingers up with lube he had plundered from the drawers and bent down over Miyata to kiss him hotly before pulling back.
"Good," he said, "because this time, I want you to fuck me."
"Hhhhhuh?"
Tama kissed him again but when he sat back up, Miyata followed him, diving into his mouth with abandon and making a soft sound of disbelief when he slid his hand down Tama's arms and realized that Tama was working a finger into himself.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Miyata lost what tenuous grasp on control he had. Breaking the kiss, he buried his face in Tama's shoulder, grabbed his ass and ground up against him.
"Stop. I want you. . .inside me, when you. . .-"
"God, Tama, you can't say stuff like that."
Tama's warm, slick hand slid over Miyata's to guide it where he wanted it. "Help me."
Miyata didn't protest. He slid a finger into Tama's ass. So hot. So tight. He might have whimpered a little bit when he thought about Tama being around his cock. He hiked Tama up so that he was sitting up on his knees and resting his forehead against Tama's chest while he worked him open with slow, deliberate strokes. He couldn't really believe what was happening and he didn't want to rush it. Tamamori had other ideas, though, clearly, because he hissed and threw his head back as he slid his own finger back into himself alongside Miyata's.
He was breathing fast and shallow.
"Are you okay?" Miyata asked.
Tama looked down at him with dark, sensation-drunk eyes. "Mm-hm. I want-" He tried to move his hips and winced.
"Don't. Let me," Miyata said in a tone that somehow, he was surprised to find, seemed authoritative. He moved Tamamori's hand and replaced Tama's finger with his own.
Miyata leaned forward to graze his teeth over one of Tama's nipples, darting his tongue out to taste the sweat on Tama's chest. Tamamori had both arms wrapped around Miyata's head and he was breathing into Miyata's hair, "hurry-Iwant-ohgod" but Miyata just kept massaging and stroking until Tama was fucking himself on his fingers and gasping for more.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Tension was coiling tight in Tama's belly and he thought he might die soon, and he was too far gone to have a brain-to-mouth filter. "-gonna die if you don't get inside me right fucking now"
Miyata made a graceless choking sound. "Don't say stuff like that, god"
Tama pushed his hands away and wedged a hand between them to stroke Miyata's hard, neglected cock. Tama felt a satisfied smile playing across his face when Miyata's head lolled back and he whispered, "Tamachan oh my god."
Tama shoved him back to glance around for the box of condoms he'd had in his bedside table. They were unopened, a gag gift from Nikaido ages ago. The box was smashed up from having been shoved into the back of the drawer for so long. He tore the box open and foil accordions went flying like snakes from a can.
Miyata guffawed. "Not. Cute."
"Shut up. We're finally having sex! Quit laughing."
"Are those even okay to use?"
Tama shrugged and ripped one small foil square open. Miyata stopped laughing when Tama's hands were back on his cock, smoothing the condom down over his length. "They look fine to me. Besides. I'm not worried."
Tama had himself positioned over Miyata and before he could make anymore smartass remarks, Tama grasped the base of Miyata's erection and slowly slid down onto it. His eyes rolled back so hard he saw white flashes behind them and he couldn't be entirely sure which of the harsh groans was his and which was Miyata's.
Miyata didn't give him any time to catch his breath before he started moving. He gripped Tama's hips and held them in place as he began moving shallowly at first and then deeper. Tama gripped Miyata's thighs for leverage and arched his back, rolling his hips down to meet Miyata thrust for thrust.
He could have listened to Miyata's shuddering breaths and low groans on repeat forever, but it wasn't long before his arm and thigh muscles were quivering with the effort of keeping himself bent backwards over Miyata's legs, no matter how good it felt.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Tama's close heat felt like a wicked blend of heaven and hell around Miyata's cock, but he needed to get Tama on his back fast. The long column of throat and torso that Tama was displaying with his body arched and his head thrown back like that was delicious, but Miyata wanted more than that. He wasn't going to last forever, and he wanted to see Tama's face, look into his eyes as he came.
He sat up, spreading his hands over Tama's back and lifting him up too. Tama took one look in his eyes and then practically fell on his mouth like a starving man at a feast. This kiss wasn't like any of their others, it was sloppier, and driven entirely by raw hunger, need. This kiss pleaded "please oh please oh please," and Miyata was helpless against it. He needed to get closer. He'd drown in Tamamori if he could.
He lifted Tamamori up off of himself and turned Tama over so that he was laying down, just like he wanted him, and showered Tama's face with light kisses. "Let me, okay? Just let me."
He smoothed his hands over the muscles of Tama's thighs, drew Tama's legs up over his shoulders, first one then the other, and then slid back into Tama like he belonged there. The slide of Tama's thighs against his chest was like a drug, the feel of Tama under him. . . indescribable.
But the best was Tama's face, jaw slack with panting breaths, moans, and the occasional "Oh god, Miyacchi," his eyes not quite closed. When he started going faster, Tama began stroking himself and the tightening, stifling heat was almost too much for Miyata. His hips stuttered in their movements. He was losing control, his rhythm becoming erratic.
Tama watched Miyata watching him. They got drunk on each other. Miyata was getting close. Tama's free hand found one of his and he squeezed it tightly.
"Harder. Fuck me harder."
Whatever people might say about Miyata, they could never claim that he didn't follow direct orders. He gripped Tama's hips as hard as he could, given the slickness of both of their skins, and gave it to Tama harder than he probably should have, but he couldn't help if Tama made him incapable of holding back.
The hot, dirty sounds coming from Tama's lips were flowing in an endless stream now and Miyata was ready to come from the sound alone when Tama finally arched up off the futon and decorated his belly with his release. The way Tama's body closed around Miyata's cock was killing him and he slowed his pace for just a moment, but Tama was saying, "unnh, don't stop, don't stop fucking me," and he was thrusting deeper into the killing tightness and then Miyata was gone. He came with a jolt of pure electric heat that emanated from behind his eyes and shot straight down his body to the base of his spine.
They collapsed together into a pile of sweaty limbs, kissing each other through the afterglow like they were trying to crawl into each other's skin, like no amount of closeness would ever be enough, which, on some level Miyata knew was true for him.
It was too cold in the room to sleep naked, and they were both messy, so they both consented to splitting long enough to get cleaned up and find their clothes and come back together, snuggled into each other under a mass of blankets.
"That was awesome," Tama said, almost under his breath.
"That is. . . an understatement."
Tama took a deep breath like he was going to say something but let it out slowly instead. From where he was, with Tama's face buried in the space between his neck and the pillow, he couldn't tell what was going on exactly but he thought it was probably about whatever was bothering Tamamori earlier.
"Listen, Tamachan," he said, "whatever it is, don't worry about it, okay?"
"Is that really okay?" Tamamori didn't sound so sure.
"Yes."
"Are you. . . happy?"
"Right now? I am pretty ecstatic."
"Yeah, but-"
". . .and if we can do that again," Miyata added, "that would be good. And again and again, like until we pass out."
Tama laughed into Miyata's skin and it reverberated through his whole body, which was maybe the best feeling he had ever experienced.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Tama was not entirely convinced that Miyata couldn't read his mind sometimes. It was funny how that sentiment didn't sound at all stupid coming out of Miyata's mouth like it did when it was in his own head. Still, he knew he didn't have anything else in him right at the moment.
"I think I'm going to pass out now," he said.
"Yeah, me too. Can we sleep just like this?"
"Yes, please."
..::--::..::--::..::--::..OMAKE..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Dance practice was going slowly with Miyata and Tamamori breaking into hysterical giggles over even the stupidest of jokes. Currently they were talking low to each other in the corner away from the others and sharing a bottle of Miyata's tea.
"What is with them, today?" Kitayama asked off hand during a short break.
Yokoo shrugged. "What's with today, today? They are usually like this. They are just both in good moods."
"No, they both got laid," Fujigaya griped. "Look at them, they are glowing," he added, voice practically dripping with derision.
"That is what you wanted, wasn't it? For them to get over themselves?" Kitayama gave him a level 'should have been more careful what you wished for' stare.
"I thought it would be better," he huffed. "This is not better."
"I think it is," Yokoo said.
"Me too," Senga added.
"No one asked you guys," Fujigaya bit out. "Back to work, bitches! We've got work to do!"
From kis_my_fic2
Title: Hesitation
Pairings/Characters: Miyata/Tamamori
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: sex, feelings, a little mild dirty talking, shifting perspective
Summary: Tamamori wants something and the time to hesitate is through but he manages to hesitate all the same.
Notes: Around 5300 words. For mousapelli. I hope you like this. Despite the length, there is really no plot to speak of, but there is porn, so. . .maybe that makes up for it? >.> I hope so, anyway.
The trouble, Tamamori thought, was that he didn't really know what the trouble was. On some subconscious level he knew he wasn't quite happy with something in his relationship with Miyata. On just about every other level, though, his subconscious was vehemently shaking its head and denying that anything was wrong, anything needed to be done, or that there was any relationship at all. What they had was easy. Closer than ordinary friendship, they were comfortable with each other to the point of not needing words sometimes, which worked to both of their benefit, and there had been more than a few really nice kisses and the one time when there was more than that, which Tama blushed with embarrassment even remembering. The one thing there had never been, not even once, was any pressure to define their terms or make any promises. But Tama found himself thinking about a repeat of that event more often than he wanted to admit to himself and he had to figure out exactly what it was he was hoping would happen.
This was a time for sorting out feelings through extensive inner monologuing, but Tamamori wasn't fond of feelings and even less fond of inner monologuing, let alone the extensive kind. Neither thing was really his strong suit and he couldn't have been less interested in improving his game.
So what to do? He'd have to talk to Miyata about it. Tamamori could feel his lip curl in distaste for the idea of sitting Miyata down for a relationship talk, but on the other hand, if they talked, Miyata would end the conversation with a shrug and a smile and a 'don't worry about it, okay?' and Tamamori would feel better.
Nothing for it then. Tamamori wondered when would be a good time to say something. Sooner was probably better than later. He had things to do and he didn't want this doubt niggling around in the back of his head while he tried to do them.
He glanced over at Miyata and Yokoo getting pawed at by wardrobe people making adjustments just like he was. They had about a half hour after this before practice. Maybe after the wardrobe meeting, then.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Miyata had become a master of watching Tama without seeming like he was. Granted, most of the time he didn't bother employing the methods he had at his disposal, but there were times when it was beneficial, having the opportunity to read Tama without the burden of reading aloud.
It wasn't too hard not letting the other guys see him, but more often than not, Tamamori could still feel him watching. Flying in under Tamamori's radar was the real challenge.
Sometimes Tamamori made it entirely too easy, though, like today. Generally, one could get away with being mostly checked out during wardrobe fittings. The styling was done, there were no real questions aside from 'would you raise your arm, please' or 'can you please change into this?'
But today, Tamamori had taken preoccupation to a new level. Miyata could tell that something was bothering him and, as with all things Tama, he wanted to know what was going on. So when Tama asked him if they could talk over lunch, Miyata said sure. Of course, there wasn't much chance of him saying no, was there?
He knew from the look on Tama's face that this was a feelings conversation. However, when Tamamori spent twenty of their thirty minutes sitting next to Miyata in the hallway and not getting to the point, Miyata changed his mind about wanting to know what was going on. Instead of waiting for Tamamori to explain his feelings, Miyata decided to try a different tack.
Distraction.
Tama would get around to it eventually, but in the meantime, if he wasn't thinking about it, it wouldn't bother him. Miyata made a split-second decision to try something that was sort of foreign to him and go on the offensive.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
"You going?" he asked.
"Yeah," Tama replied, "My phone alarm will go off any second. I am due there like now." The rehearsal schedule had him, Fujigaya, and Kitayama with the choreographer learning new steps while Yokoo went over the background skate choreo with the others in the skate studio. "I, um. . ." Tama began, but trailed off without further explanation.
"You want to try to talk again later?"
Tama looked at his feet. "Yeah, sounds fine."
"You want to tell me what about?"
"Maybe later."
Miyata exhaled steadily; not so much a sigh, or even an indication of judgement, more a measured breath that bespoke a willingness to be patient. At least that's what Tama imagined, because that's what Miyata always was, right? Patient.
Tama met his eyes but couldn't read what was written there, so he wasn't prepared when Miyata gently pushed him back against the wall they had been sitting against and leaned close.
For a moment Tama thought Miyata was reading his mind- stranger things had happened, right? - and he half-expected Miyata to kiss him. He looked down, willing his eyes not to flutter like a girl's, but Miyata never quite got close enough to do it.
The way he moved was like falling in slow motion, inching closer to Tama, catching himself against the wall with his right hand next to Tama's head, bending slightly and straightening again, letting their hips brush together so lightly that if it had been done quickly, Tama would have believed it accidental. Miyata was close now, still breathing those steady, patient breaths, but now Tama could feel the heat of them on the side of his neck. Maybe Miyata was going to whisper something into his ear?
But no. Saying nothing, Miyata pulled away slowly, lingering with their faces close and only moving back after Tama finally glanced up to Miyata's eyes. Tama wasn't really sure what was happening, but whatever it was, he wasn't processing it well.
Miyata's voice was low and sexy, like he was saying something much dirtier than his words really were, "Don't forget your bag."
Tama drew his brows together, trying to make something out of the look in Miyata's eyes, but when he blinked it was gone and Miyata was at a safe, normal distance, holding Tama's bag in his left hand and giving him a guileless smile.
"Right." What the hell was that? Tama's inner voice shouted. What indeed. Whatever had happened, Tama was pretty sure Miyata hadn't kissed him, despite the fact that with his racing heartbeat and hotly flushed face, it felt for all the world like he had.
Tama's phone alarm went off, snapping him out of it and reminding him he really needed to get going. He grabbed his bag from Miyata and left. Before he turned the corner, heading for the studio, he stole a look over his shoulder at Miyata, wanting to catch him staring or something, anything to validate the idea that that moment had been meaningful or at least unusual, but Miyata was just piling his drink bottle and iPod into his bag and gathering the wrapper from his conbini sandwich to throw away. Perfectly regular.
Drop it, Tama said to himself.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Miyata waited until Tama had turned the corner and was out of sight to allow himself a satisfied smile. If his goal was to distract Tama, and it was, then he figured he had achieved it at least for today. He had no trouble deducing what Tamamori wanted to talk about but he also knew they had another two or three of these serious conversation attempts to go before Tamamori got to the point.
Eventually they would get to the point of defining this thing; this more than best friends, not boyfriends, but definitely not interested in seeing anyone else thing that they had going. Of course the other guys had mostly all at one point or another asked them what the deal was, but Tamamori was not interested in making any kind of statements and Miyata was not interested in forcing him to. The fact that Tama had seemingly out of nowhere decided it was time to say something was a little strange, but Miyata was, as ever, interested in doing whatever it was Tama felt like.
Miyata slowed in the hall to peek through the sliver of a window in the door to the dance studio on his way to the skate studio. Tama was stretching his arms over his head so that his tee rode up a little and showed a wide stripe of belly.
"You're doing it again," Senga said walking past him. Miyata caught up to his friend in a few easy strides.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Miyata said, fooling no one.
"Is he going to make an honest man out of you?" Senga prodded. It was out of character for him to comment much on Miyata's personal life so Miyata had no prepared response. After a moment of Miyata's blank stare, Senga continued, "Just don't let him jerk you around or anything."
"It's not like that," Miyata said as they headed into the studio where Yokoo was explaining some of the stage blocking to Nikaido.
Senga gave him an honest, level look. "I know. I'm just saying."
Miyata nodded as if to say 'thanks for looking out for me, friend, even though you know I don't need looking out for," set down his stuff and got to work.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
"Tamamori, I swear to god, if we have to do this one more time I am going to skin you alive. For the last damned time, it's left, right, swivel with the shoulder snap, walk, walk, pose, and then wait your goddamned turn before you turn around. Ripple effect! Ripple. Effect. You go on three. Not one. Three! Now I am tired, I want to go eat dinner, and I think I am getting cramps -"
"That explains it," Kitayama muttered barely under his breath.
"Leg cramps, fuck you very much, Kitayama. Now, Tama, do you think we can get this before hell freezes over?"
"Yes. I'm sorry," Tamamori said, properly chastised. To be fair, they had been trying to get this sequence for the last twenty or thirty minutes and Tama was hardly even managing to keep his head in the game enough to count to eight. He was just as angry with himself as Taipi was.
Hours later, when they broke for dinner, Tamamori moseyed over to the skate studio, you know, just to see how things were going. He couldn't deny his disappointment when he found the room empty.
"If you're looking for Miyata, he went to grab dinner with Senga like forty-five minutes ago. They will be back soon," Fujigaya said as he came into the studio behind Tamamori.
Tamamori saw no point in denying it. "How do you know that?"
"Watta just told me. He was going to go with them, but . . . I don't know, something about he didn't want to eat at soba twice in two days? Who knows. He was down in the Mess when I went to get this," he explained, gesturing with his half-eaten sandwich and open bottle of tea.
"Ah."
"Listen, sorry about before. What is your deal anyway? Did something happen?"
Tama shook his head. "No."
"Okay, well, if this is a you-and-Miyacchi thing, you need to do a better job of not letting it affect your work."
Tama made an affirmative sound.
"More importantly, my work," Taipi continued.
"Yeah, okay." Tamamori could get behind that idea, he just didn't know exactly how.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Later that night, after work, they had a moment to themselves when they were both on their way out of the building. But Tamamori was tired and didn't feel like he had one of those discussions in him. Definitely not if he didn't know what exactly he wanted to say in that discussion.
"Hey," Miyata said, seeing the stress in the crinkle between Tama's brows. "Everything okay?"
Tamamori shrugged as if to say 'Not really but I don't want to get into it.'
"Ready to go home?"
Tamamori nodded wearily.
It seemed natural to Tamamori that Miyata should follow him home.
They sat in amiable silence on the train and foraged a snack in the kitchen when they got home with an air of comfortable routine. Tamamori was fairly pleased with himself that at no point did he blurt out 'I think I might want more from our relationship I keep feeling all these feelings and I don't like them and I want them to go away can we make out just a little I think it would really take the edge off please okay thanks.'
Soon they found themselves bedding down for the night in a way that felt both completely normal and terribly awkward. Tamamori was pretty sure the awkwardness was just for him, though.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Miyata followed Tamamori home, unwilling to leave him alone to stew in his thoughts and hoping to find a another opening to get under Tamamori's skin.
If he played his cards right, Miyata thought, he might be able to worm his way right into the circle of Tama's arms and steal a few more delicious kisses before Tama pushed him away saying "Stop being weird," as usual.
But it seemed like he'd blown this hand. They were laying side by side on twin futons in Tamamori's dark room. He stared into the darkness trying to think of a way to just drag Tamamori over onto his bed and kiss him senseless. He wasn't really coming up with anything brilliant, though.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Tamamori lay on his side, facing Miyata's futon, barely able to tell there was someone there at all except for that fact that he could feel him there, just breathing, minding his own business and probably not thinking over and over again about the time they had shared Tamamori's futon and and ended up with their hands in each other's pants.
There have been loads of occasions like this since that one night and yet nothing had happened aside from a few kisses. Usually slightly tipsy or tired kisses. Easily ignored. But when they were sleeping in the same room it felt different. Sometimes it felt like they slept in the same room all the time. But it was just the hyper-awareness he felt that made it seem that way.
"Are you still awake?" Tamamori whispered into the darkness of his room, cringing inwardly at how dumb he sounded.
Miyata rolled over to face Tama's direction and said, "Yep," not sounding remotely sleepy.
For a few long minutes Tamamori said nothing, focused on the tiny reflection of light in the moisture of Miyata's eyes that let him know in the near-pitch blackness that Miyata's eyes were open. Then he said, "I was just thinking about that time. You remember that one time when you slept in my bed and-"
"Yeah, I remember," Miyata cut him off, leaning up on his elbow.
Tamamori could feel Miyata peering into the dark, trying to make out his face. He kept his eyes resolutely on the middle distance between himself and Miyata's now-empty pillow.
"What about it?" Miyata prompted.
Tamamori searched his brain for words that said 'I want to do that again. And again and again and again until we pass out from it' but that didn't sound quite so. . .much like that. He found none. "Nothing. Forget about it."
And, knowing Miyata the way he did, he knew Miyata would give a good-natured shrug and a huff and let it go.
Except that he didn't. Miyata snaked his arm under Tamamori's comforter and shrugged the blanket up and over his shoulder so that he was between Tamamori and the blanket, hovering over Tama and caging him in with his hands resting on Tama's futon.
"I have a different idea," Miyata said, his voice sounding gruff. "How about we don't."
Miyata dropped down close to Tama's face and had him cursing the darkness. It was more of that fleeting heat from before, in the hallway at work, and Tama wished he could see the look in Miyata's eyes.
He felt like he was being tested and he didn't want to fail the test.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Miyata was glad of the dark. It kept him from seeing if there was shock or confusion in Tama's eyes. He figured he'd just keep nudging until Tama responded one way or the other, but he didn't want to lose his nerve.
It had been easy to fake it at work today when he had the element of surprise and he didn't have to sustain the act of bravado, but he wasn't really the fearless type at all. He lowered his mouth to just above Tama's but stopped short of his lips in favor of finding the juncture of jaw to neck just under Tama's ear and letting his teeth graze the sensitive skin there.
Tama let his head fall to the side to give Miyata access, so he wasn't about to stop. He trailed kisses down and back up his neck, then up over Tama's jawline. When he finally captured Tama's mouth with his own, Tama's hands came up off the bed to tangle in the back of his T-shirt, grasping handfuls of cotton and lifting the shirt away to allow him to splay his hands over Miyata's back and pull him down.
Tama rolled his body up against Miyata's and he couldn't help but groan into the kiss at the feeling of their chests pressing together, then their stomachs, then their hips. And then Tama did it again, and again.
Tama didn't seem to want to stop kissing him as Miyata put an ever-so-slightly trembling hand on the side of Tama's face and pulled back just enough to gulp down the steamy air between their mouths. Tama didn't stop, though, he grabbed Miyata's ass with two hands and rolled his hips up into Miyata's, hard.
Miyata's thoughts suddenly became about as coherent as his words. "NghTamaFuck"
Tamamori slung a long leg up over Miyata's hip and Miyata could feel Tamamori's erection pressing against his hipbone through all the layers of jersey knit and had a brief flashback to that last time.
They had been in this very room, in this bed, even, and had somehow managed to find themselves with sweaty hands around each others' cocks, barely able to keep their mouths apart long enough to tell each other what they liked or when they were coming.
Miyata was distracted enough by Tama's leg around his waist and the not-at-all-familiar-enough feeling of Tamamori hard against him that he didn't realize that Tama was flipping him onto his back until his head hit futon and Tamamori was using his chest as leverage to push away from their kiss and rock his body back into a straddling position.
Miyata felt like he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Tamamori's hips felt like they were moving of their own accord, making a subtle circular motion while he grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it up over his head. He wanted to feel skin on skin. He could feel with his fingers the heat coming off of Miyata and his heart pounding against his ribs when he touched Miyata's chest; he wanted to feel it with his whole body.
He reached down to pull Miyata's shirt up but Miyata's hands were already there, divesting them of the unwanted barrier. Miyata seemed to pick up on the idea of getting naked and took charge of his own pants while Tamamori left his lap long enough to wriggle out of a pair of beat-up sweats and flick his curtains open enough to give them a little moonlight to see by.
The moment they were back together, though, Miyata wrapped a big hand around both of them and gave them a long stroke. Tama convulsed on a shockwave of unexpected pleasure, but caught himself before he collapsed on top of Miyata. His head hanging, he took a moment to catch his breath. He could feel the tips of his hair dragging through the sweat beading on Miyata's chest.
Although the sight of Miyata's hand around both of them was seriously hot and Tama died a little inside to say it, he harshly whispered, "Don't touch me."
"What?" Miyata sounded confused and betrayed.
"Not like last time," Tama explained.
"I don't-" Miyata began but Tama wasn't paying attention, he was stroking Miyata with two hands, licking the pad of one thumb and running it over the flushed head of Miyata's cock and it was all Miyata could do to keep his eyes from rolling back into is head at the sights and sensations. But it didn't last very long before Tamamori was up off him, still hovering above Miyata but reaching over to his bedside table.
He pulled the drawer out and tried to root around the back of it but he didn't have the right angle on it and couldn't find what he was looking for. He was wrestling with the bedside table, trying to get it to give up its treasure when Miyata pushed up onto his elbows and said "What are you doing?"
Miyata sitting up overbalanced Tama and be barely caught himself from falling when the table drawer toppled out onto the floor, showering its contents everywhere. But Tama spotted what he was looking for and sat back with a "Hah!" of triumph. "Sorry, what?" he asked Miyata.
"I said, What are you doing?"
"Whatever I want." Tama gave him a doubtful look, "It's okay, right?"
In answer, Miyata lay back down and nodded, running his hands up Tama's thighs and back down again. Tama slicked his own fingers up with lube he had plundered from the drawers and bent down over Miyata to kiss him hotly before pulling back.
"Good," he said, "because this time, I want you to fuck me."
"Hhhhhuh?"
Tama kissed him again but when he sat back up, Miyata followed him, diving into his mouth with abandon and making a soft sound of disbelief when he slid his hand down Tama's arms and realized that Tama was working a finger into himself.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Miyata lost what tenuous grasp on control he had. Breaking the kiss, he buried his face in Tama's shoulder, grabbed his ass and ground up against him.
"Stop. I want you. . .inside me, when you. . .-"
"God, Tama, you can't say stuff like that."
Tama's warm, slick hand slid over Miyata's to guide it where he wanted it. "Help me."
Miyata didn't protest. He slid a finger into Tama's ass. So hot. So tight. He might have whimpered a little bit when he thought about Tama being around his cock. He hiked Tama up so that he was sitting up on his knees and resting his forehead against Tama's chest while he worked him open with slow, deliberate strokes. He couldn't really believe what was happening and he didn't want to rush it. Tamamori had other ideas, though, clearly, because he hissed and threw his head back as he slid his own finger back into himself alongside Miyata's.
He was breathing fast and shallow.
"Are you okay?" Miyata asked.
Tama looked down at him with dark, sensation-drunk eyes. "Mm-hm. I want-" He tried to move his hips and winced.
"Don't. Let me," Miyata said in a tone that somehow, he was surprised to find, seemed authoritative. He moved Tamamori's hand and replaced Tama's finger with his own.
Miyata leaned forward to graze his teeth over one of Tama's nipples, darting his tongue out to taste the sweat on Tama's chest. Tamamori had both arms wrapped around Miyata's head and he was breathing into Miyata's hair, "hurry-Iwant-ohgod" but Miyata just kept massaging and stroking until Tama was fucking himself on his fingers and gasping for more.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Tension was coiling tight in Tama's belly and he thought he might die soon, and he was too far gone to have a brain-to-mouth filter. "-gonna die if you don't get inside me right fucking now"
Miyata made a graceless choking sound. "Don't say stuff like that, god"
Tama pushed his hands away and wedged a hand between them to stroke Miyata's hard, neglected cock. Tama felt a satisfied smile playing across his face when Miyata's head lolled back and he whispered, "Tamachan oh my god."
Tama shoved him back to glance around for the box of condoms he'd had in his bedside table. They were unopened, a gag gift from Nikaido ages ago. The box was smashed up from having been shoved into the back of the drawer for so long. He tore the box open and foil accordions went flying like snakes from a can.
Miyata guffawed. "Not. Cute."
"Shut up. We're finally having sex! Quit laughing."
"Are those even okay to use?"
Tama shrugged and ripped one small foil square open. Miyata stopped laughing when Tama's hands were back on his cock, smoothing the condom down over his length. "They look fine to me. Besides. I'm not worried."
Tama had himself positioned over Miyata and before he could make anymore smartass remarks, Tama grasped the base of Miyata's erection and slowly slid down onto it. His eyes rolled back so hard he saw white flashes behind them and he couldn't be entirely sure which of the harsh groans was his and which was Miyata's.
Miyata didn't give him any time to catch his breath before he started moving. He gripped Tama's hips and held them in place as he began moving shallowly at first and then deeper. Tama gripped Miyata's thighs for leverage and arched his back, rolling his hips down to meet Miyata thrust for thrust.
He could have listened to Miyata's shuddering breaths and low groans on repeat forever, but it wasn't long before his arm and thigh muscles were quivering with the effort of keeping himself bent backwards over Miyata's legs, no matter how good it felt.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Tama's close heat felt like a wicked blend of heaven and hell around Miyata's cock, but he needed to get Tama on his back fast. The long column of throat and torso that Tama was displaying with his body arched and his head thrown back like that was delicious, but Miyata wanted more than that. He wasn't going to last forever, and he wanted to see Tama's face, look into his eyes as he came.
He sat up, spreading his hands over Tama's back and lifting him up too. Tama took one look in his eyes and then practically fell on his mouth like a starving man at a feast. This kiss wasn't like any of their others, it was sloppier, and driven entirely by raw hunger, need. This kiss pleaded "please oh please oh please," and Miyata was helpless against it. He needed to get closer. He'd drown in Tamamori if he could.
He lifted Tamamori up off of himself and turned Tama over so that he was laying down, just like he wanted him, and showered Tama's face with light kisses. "Let me, okay? Just let me."
He smoothed his hands over the muscles of Tama's thighs, drew Tama's legs up over his shoulders, first one then the other, and then slid back into Tama like he belonged there. The slide of Tama's thighs against his chest was like a drug, the feel of Tama under him. . . indescribable.
But the best was Tama's face, jaw slack with panting breaths, moans, and the occasional "Oh god, Miyacchi," his eyes not quite closed. When he started going faster, Tama began stroking himself and the tightening, stifling heat was almost too much for Miyata. His hips stuttered in their movements. He was losing control, his rhythm becoming erratic.
Tama watched Miyata watching him. They got drunk on each other. Miyata was getting close. Tama's free hand found one of his and he squeezed it tightly.
"Harder. Fuck me harder."
Whatever people might say about Miyata, they could never claim that he didn't follow direct orders. He gripped Tama's hips as hard as he could, given the slickness of both of their skins, and gave it to Tama harder than he probably should have, but he couldn't help if Tama made him incapable of holding back.
The hot, dirty sounds coming from Tama's lips were flowing in an endless stream now and Miyata was ready to come from the sound alone when Tama finally arched up off the futon and decorated his belly with his release. The way Tama's body closed around Miyata's cock was killing him and he slowed his pace for just a moment, but Tama was saying, "unnh, don't stop, don't stop fucking me," and he was thrusting deeper into the killing tightness and then Miyata was gone. He came with a jolt of pure electric heat that emanated from behind his eyes and shot straight down his body to the base of his spine.
They collapsed together into a pile of sweaty limbs, kissing each other through the afterglow like they were trying to crawl into each other's skin, like no amount of closeness would ever be enough, which, on some level Miyata knew was true for him.
It was too cold in the room to sleep naked, and they were both messy, so they both consented to splitting long enough to get cleaned up and find their clothes and come back together, snuggled into each other under a mass of blankets.
"That was awesome," Tama said, almost under his breath.
"That is. . . an understatement."
Tama took a deep breath like he was going to say something but let it out slowly instead. From where he was, with Tama's face buried in the space between his neck and the pillow, he couldn't tell what was going on exactly but he thought it was probably about whatever was bothering Tamamori earlier.
"Listen, Tamachan," he said, "whatever it is, don't worry about it, okay?"
"Is that really okay?" Tamamori didn't sound so sure.
"Yes."
"Are you. . . happy?"
"Right now? I am pretty ecstatic."
"Yeah, but-"
". . .and if we can do that again," Miyata added, "that would be good. And again and again, like until we pass out."
Tama laughed into Miyata's skin and it reverberated through his whole body, which was maybe the best feeling he had ever experienced.
..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Tama was not entirely convinced that Miyata couldn't read his mind sometimes. It was funny how that sentiment didn't sound at all stupid coming out of Miyata's mouth like it did when it was in his own head. Still, he knew he didn't have anything else in him right at the moment.
"I think I'm going to pass out now," he said.
"Yeah, me too. Can we sleep just like this?"
"Yes, please."
..::--::..::--::..::--::..OMAKE..::--::..::--::..::--::..
Dance practice was going slowly with Miyata and Tamamori breaking into hysterical giggles over even the stupidest of jokes. Currently they were talking low to each other in the corner away from the others and sharing a bottle of Miyata's tea.
"What is with them, today?" Kitayama asked off hand during a short break.
Yokoo shrugged. "What's with today, today? They are usually like this. They are just both in good moods."
"No, they both got laid," Fujigaya griped. "Look at them, they are glowing," he added, voice practically dripping with derision.
"That is what you wanted, wasn't it? For them to get over themselves?" Kitayama gave him a level 'should have been more careful what you wished for' stare.
"I thought it would be better," he huffed. "This is not better."
"I think it is," Yokoo said.
"Me too," Senga added.
"No one asked you guys," Fujigaya bit out. "Back to work, bitches! We've got work to do!"