[ Mine'd wavered briefly, so that now not even thinking about how to do it is blissful. It's only until that same nonchalance and heady ambition, alcohol-fuelled, reveals itself as the very thing that keeps real sex from happening. He can guess Nishikiyama's frustration even through a thick haze of intoxication, and then have it reach him as well. Nishikiyama's hand tugs on his dick, a graceless descriptor for the way his ministrations provoke nothing at all. ]
Nh.
[ He also makes noise, to argue that he wants what they're trying. Mine watches Nishikiyama move with eyelids shut; he himself blinks slowly. He opens his eyes again, having the sense that only seconds have passed. Each one, though, really leads him away further till there's but Mine's final attempt to stay awake.
He drank too much. Mine knows; a new headache stays faint until he moves. Strands of his hair've come down over his forehead, and shuffling under the sheets—after getting up once, he's gotten under them—lets him know he's naked. Conscious thought begins here, before Mine skips to questions of where he is and why, he sees Nishikiyama's silhouette near him. He's turned away; they didn't sleep facing each other. This is where he throws anchor to orient himself. His body aches. His middle, actually. It's what startles him just after he's woken up relatively peacefully. Mine doesn't remember falling asleep despite that, even less what preceded it. Marbled by a desire that'd accompanied him into the evening, he jumps to that one immediately– Did they fuck?
Discomfort digs a hard knuckle beneath his belly button. Mine pulls his knee up, only far enough to roll onto his side. To see if it hurts. Doing it slowly makes him nervous. He's struck with dreaded uncertainty, with nausea—his hangover. But nothing else. 6:19. Mine tiredly reads the alarm clock on Nishikiyama's nightstand. He doubts that it'll go off any time soon. ]
no subject
Nh.
[ He also makes noise, to argue that he wants what they're trying. Mine watches Nishikiyama move with eyelids shut; he himself blinks slowly. He opens his eyes again, having the sense that only seconds have passed. Each one, though, really leads him away further till there's but Mine's final attempt to stay awake.
He drank too much. Mine knows; a new headache stays faint until he moves. Strands of his hair've come down over his forehead, and shuffling under the sheets—after getting up once, he's gotten under them—lets him know he's naked. Conscious thought begins here, before Mine skips to questions of where he is and why, he sees Nishikiyama's silhouette near him. He's turned away; they didn't sleep facing each other. This is where he throws anchor to orient himself. His body aches. His middle, actually. It's what startles him just after he's woken up relatively peacefully. Mine doesn't remember falling asleep despite that, even less what preceded it. Marbled by a desire that'd accompanied him into the evening, he jumps to that one immediately– Did they fuck?
Discomfort digs a hard knuckle beneath his belly button. Mine pulls his knee up, only far enough to roll onto his side. To see if it hurts. Doing it slowly makes him nervous. He's struck with dreaded uncertainty, with nausea—his hangover. But nothing else. 6:19. Mine tiredly reads the alarm clock on Nishikiyama's nightstand. He doubts that it'll go off any time soon. ]