[Fic] Never Let Go
Title: Never Let Go
Author: analine
Pairing: TutixNagayan
Warnings: None. Worksafe.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,286
Summary: Staying up all night, and falling asleep together.
Notes: I really didn't mean to write this today, but somehow it happened anyway. I blame Kimeru, and the fact that All The Time is such an amazing song, and is so easy to write to. ^_~ I broke my rule of not writing drunk!Nagayan anymore too. Oh well. :P Anyway. This is for spurnd, just because. <3
Comments are always greatly appreciated. ^_^
Takashi’s kisses are never sloppy unless he’s drunk, and he rarely drinks so when I suddenly find myself trapped between the lean, strong muscles of his chest and the wall of the club he practically begged me to meet him at, his mouth pressed against my lips and his tongue fighting awkwardly against my teeth for admission, I’m a bit surprised.
I let him kiss me though, of course, and it’s not until I feel his hand move to the front of my pants, his fingers nearly successful at prying a button loose, that I begin my attempt to stop him.
“Takashi,” I whisper, as I push his hand away gently. With my other hand, I press my palm to his cheek, and tuck a few slightly damp hairs behind his ear. “It’s too warm in here - let’s go outside.”
He frowns a little, but lets me guide him down the hallway, and around the corner, where the noise from the band that’s still playing on the main stage becomes farther away and more muffled until finally we reach the back door, and I push it open, and then we’re outside. He links our arms together and we make our way down the steps, and when we reach the street below, he lets out a long sigh, and I feel his weight almost double against my arm.
“Oi, oi.” I whisper the words into the soft mop of brown hair that seems to have become permanently attached to my shoulder.
I spot a couple of abandoned crates next to a doorway of a boarded-down shop, and I motion to him to sit down, which he does, and before I can even pull my cigarettes out of my pocket he’s grabbing my wrist and pulling me down next to him.
The light outside is grey but not-quite-dark, which I know means it’s almost so late most people would call it early, and as I take a long, slow drag on my cigarette, the emptiness of the street in front of me makes me feel for a brief, philosophical moment as if Takashi and I are the only people on earth. The thought would seem clichéd if it wasn’ t for the fact that being here like this, sharing a perfectly quiet, perfectly perfect moment with the one person I would be lost without didn’t feel quite so… well, perfect.
I love being with Takashi like this, and I don’t mean to say that I love seeing him vulnerable, depending on my arm for support even though our seats are perfectly stable, and even though I know he’s only had three drinks, and so it’s not like he’s going to be passing out any time soon, but… So much of Takashi is perfectly packaged, so much of the time, and so it really makes moments like this stand out. And I really admire that quality of his - I respect his constant composure and the ease with which he always manages to exceed the expectations of anyone he meets, at any given moment. But sometimes I miss this other side of him. This side of him that has to be reminded, gently, that making out in the hallway of a crowded club may not be the wisest decision of the evening. The side of him that’s perfectly content, breathing in my second-hand smoke in an alleyway looking out to what should be a busy Tokyo street, but isn’t, because it’s so ridiculously early in the morning. This side of him that’s in love with me, even though I can come up with a million and a half reasons to support why that doesn’t make any sense at all.
He lets out a long breath next to me - I feel the movement against my arm as he shifts. I take advantage of one last drag, and then put out my cigarette, and move my hand to his knee, which I squeeze tightly for a second. He turns and gives me a slightly lopsided smile. Then he closes his eyes and leans against my arm for a moment before he stands up, and offers me his hand.
“Let’s stay out all night,” he announces, staring up at me, still holding my hand, cool fingers lacing themselves between my knuckles, his posture loose and decidedly not one-hundred-percent sober yet.
I laugh, and he glances at his watch.
“Morning then, whatever,” he corrects himself. He flashes me a completely irresistible smile. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
He shrugs, and I follow him, and we turn down a street I never knew existed in this neighborhood, and as I look around I’m reminded of something he told me once, about the streets of Tokyo at this time of night, something he probably told me the last time we were out wandering around like this. Something about how when you’ve been out for so long that it starts to become morning, you see things you’d never notice in the same way at any other time of day, things that you wouldn’t even appreciate if you weren’t experiencing them just like this. Things look and feel different, connected to the night before them, than they do at any other time. A cat asleep in the narrow window of an apartment, or a shadow that suddenly appears behind the dim haze of light glowing through a top floor window. Even the person’s hand you’re holding, how the fingers feel, wrapped around your skin. Everything feels different, Takashi had said, and that’s why it was important to experience this every once in a while. To remind yourself that it doesn’t take much to change the way you see even the most familiar things around you, to turn them into something else for a period of time.
We stop next to the glow of an anonymous vending machine and as soon as the can he’s drinking from leaves his lips, I kiss him, because I can’t not kiss him, even though I haven’t given him time to finish his drink yet - I can feel the can pressing awkwardly against my side as he tries to keep his balance. This kiss is less sloppy than the one in the hallway of the club, and I realize that he must have been drinking coffee, because his mouth is sweet and bitter and cool and wet, and as I kiss him, my tongue pressing against the inside of his mouth, I gradually feel him relax around me. I wrap my arms around his back and pull him close until finally it’s too close, and our lips break apart and then I’m just squeezing him against me. He lets out a laugh after a moment, and I release him. He falls back against the vending machine with a thump and smiles at me curiously, and then he remembers his drink, and brings it to his lips, finishing it off. The can clunks against a million other cans inside the plastic bin, and the sound seems ridiculously loud against the silence that’s somehow descended on the city.
And then Takashi grabs my hand again, and this time he doesn’t let go until the grey light has faded to a yellow morning sun, peeking it’s way above the buildings, and filtering across the floor of my apartment, dancing back and forth between the curtains before it finally sets the room aglow with light and I pull down the shade. I close my eyes, and the evening ends, just like that, next to Takashi, his hair spilling over onto my pillow and tickling my nose, his body curling up to the touch of my fingers against his neck in the darkness of morning.
***
Author: analine
Pairing: TutixNagayan
Warnings: None. Worksafe.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,286
Summary: Staying up all night, and falling asleep together.
Notes: I really didn't mean to write this today, but somehow it happened anyway. I blame Kimeru, and the fact that All The Time is such an amazing song, and is so easy to write to. ^_~ I broke my rule of not writing drunk!Nagayan anymore too. Oh well. :P Anyway. This is for spurnd, just because. <3
Comments are always greatly appreciated. ^_^
Takashi’s kisses are never sloppy unless he’s drunk, and he rarely drinks so when I suddenly find myself trapped between the lean, strong muscles of his chest and the wall of the club he practically begged me to meet him at, his mouth pressed against my lips and his tongue fighting awkwardly against my teeth for admission, I’m a bit surprised.
I let him kiss me though, of course, and it’s not until I feel his hand move to the front of my pants, his fingers nearly successful at prying a button loose, that I begin my attempt to stop him.
“Takashi,” I whisper, as I push his hand away gently. With my other hand, I press my palm to his cheek, and tuck a few slightly damp hairs behind his ear. “It’s too warm in here - let’s go outside.”
He frowns a little, but lets me guide him down the hallway, and around the corner, where the noise from the band that’s still playing on the main stage becomes farther away and more muffled until finally we reach the back door, and I push it open, and then we’re outside. He links our arms together and we make our way down the steps, and when we reach the street below, he lets out a long sigh, and I feel his weight almost double against my arm.
“Oi, oi.” I whisper the words into the soft mop of brown hair that seems to have become permanently attached to my shoulder.
I spot a couple of abandoned crates next to a doorway of a boarded-down shop, and I motion to him to sit down, which he does, and before I can even pull my cigarettes out of my pocket he’s grabbing my wrist and pulling me down next to him.
The light outside is grey but not-quite-dark, which I know means it’s almost so late most people would call it early, and as I take a long, slow drag on my cigarette, the emptiness of the street in front of me makes me feel for a brief, philosophical moment as if Takashi and I are the only people on earth. The thought would seem clichéd if it wasn’ t for the fact that being here like this, sharing a perfectly quiet, perfectly perfect moment with the one person I would be lost without didn’t feel quite so… well, perfect.
I love being with Takashi like this, and I don’t mean to say that I love seeing him vulnerable, depending on my arm for support even though our seats are perfectly stable, and even though I know he’s only had three drinks, and so it’s not like he’s going to be passing out any time soon, but… So much of Takashi is perfectly packaged, so much of the time, and so it really makes moments like this stand out. And I really admire that quality of his - I respect his constant composure and the ease with which he always manages to exceed the expectations of anyone he meets, at any given moment. But sometimes I miss this other side of him. This side of him that has to be reminded, gently, that making out in the hallway of a crowded club may not be the wisest decision of the evening. The side of him that’s perfectly content, breathing in my second-hand smoke in an alleyway looking out to what should be a busy Tokyo street, but isn’t, because it’s so ridiculously early in the morning. This side of him that’s in love with me, even though I can come up with a million and a half reasons to support why that doesn’t make any sense at all.
He lets out a long breath next to me - I feel the movement against my arm as he shifts. I take advantage of one last drag, and then put out my cigarette, and move my hand to his knee, which I squeeze tightly for a second. He turns and gives me a slightly lopsided smile. Then he closes his eyes and leans against my arm for a moment before he stands up, and offers me his hand.
“Let’s stay out all night,” he announces, staring up at me, still holding my hand, cool fingers lacing themselves between my knuckles, his posture loose and decidedly not one-hundred-percent sober yet.
I laugh, and he glances at his watch.
“Morning then, whatever,” he corrects himself. He flashes me a completely irresistible smile. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
He shrugs, and I follow him, and we turn down a street I never knew existed in this neighborhood, and as I look around I’m reminded of something he told me once, about the streets of Tokyo at this time of night, something he probably told me the last time we were out wandering around like this. Something about how when you’ve been out for so long that it starts to become morning, you see things you’d never notice in the same way at any other time of day, things that you wouldn’t even appreciate if you weren’t experiencing them just like this. Things look and feel different, connected to the night before them, than they do at any other time. A cat asleep in the narrow window of an apartment, or a shadow that suddenly appears behind the dim haze of light glowing through a top floor window. Even the person’s hand you’re holding, how the fingers feel, wrapped around your skin. Everything feels different, Takashi had said, and that’s why it was important to experience this every once in a while. To remind yourself that it doesn’t take much to change the way you see even the most familiar things around you, to turn them into something else for a period of time.
We stop next to the glow of an anonymous vending machine and as soon as the can he’s drinking from leaves his lips, I kiss him, because I can’t not kiss him, even though I haven’t given him time to finish his drink yet - I can feel the can pressing awkwardly against my side as he tries to keep his balance. This kiss is less sloppy than the one in the hallway of the club, and I realize that he must have been drinking coffee, because his mouth is sweet and bitter and cool and wet, and as I kiss him, my tongue pressing against the inside of his mouth, I gradually feel him relax around me. I wrap my arms around his back and pull him close until finally it’s too close, and our lips break apart and then I’m just squeezing him against me. He lets out a laugh after a moment, and I release him. He falls back against the vending machine with a thump and smiles at me curiously, and then he remembers his drink, and brings it to his lips, finishing it off. The can clunks against a million other cans inside the plastic bin, and the sound seems ridiculously loud against the silence that’s somehow descended on the city.
And then Takashi grabs my hand again, and this time he doesn’t let go until the grey light has faded to a yellow morning sun, peeking it’s way above the buildings, and filtering across the floor of my apartment, dancing back and forth between the curtains before it finally sets the room aglow with light and I pull down the shade. I close my eyes, and the evening ends, just like that, next to Takashi, his hair spilling over onto my pillow and tickling my nose, his body curling up to the touch of my fingers against his neck in the darkness of morning.
***