[ He's not following Nishikiyama's scrutinizing gaze now; he knows where it lands and because of that the flush to his face won't dissipate. If he was getting himself off he'd pause there, get himself together and make it last. Even though Nishikiyama lets on the same idea, Mine recognizes something he'd call dangerous. Not to his life, except once, but to his dignity. He's interrupted in the thought that he didn't consider what his confession is worth.
Nishikiyama's lips tease at his ear with admonishment and when he's that close, he'll feel Mine's air puff against his skin, getting faster. The same question and a gun to his head, it'd all been fear. Mine knew how to answer that time.
Heat becomes trapped between them and Mine's chest rises more intently, at the same time more taking breaths more shallow, at the call of Nishikiyama's trail across his collarbone. ]
No– [ Again, and his answer chokes in his throat the same. He doesn't know what Nishikiyama is threatening him with. ]
Settled comfortably in the space above Mine's shoulder, Nishikiyama's face is relaxed when he gazes down at the slick, rose-flushed tip of Mine's cock. It's the one part of him that betrays his otherwise docility. Sort of cute. Nishikiyama bullies Mine some by spoiling the head of it, his wrist twisting and digits splaying so he can push it through the gaps of his fingers. It's strangely enjoyable to jerk someone other than himself off, he finds. Self-gratification had almost felt like a chore for him, with how he'd struggled to center his thoughts lately. He uses Mine's precum to keep things wet and feels the other's pulse drumming through the length— probably enough to flush him out, should he not resist doing so too hard. He shouldn't though. Nishikiyama thinks it's clear from the build-up in the car that he wants to do something more exciting than this.
The teeth at Mine's ear withdraw, leaving something sort of like a kiss behind. It's a little too lazy to be deliberate. After drifting his touch across the span of Mine's chest, Nishikiyama sits up straight again and starts to dismount. He abandons the other's dick, cruelly leaving it erect and untended.
It doesn't mean it's out of mind, however. Nishikiyama's eyes are still on it. ]
I want to work longways. The bed's pointless unless it's getting used.
[ His dick is the part of him that wants Nishikiyama's attention, rather than his sharp gaze staying with Mine's. Yet, when that falls away he can't relax either– is he only teasing or really trying to make him cum? At this point Mine's almost content to. Pressure and heat at the tip spread down his length, even where Nishikiyama doesn't care to touch anymore, pushed down in the tight space between his knuckles. Mine focuses there without much trying. His hand on Nishikiyama's thigh releases, withdrawing to slide onto the mattress dented in by his knee, like he'll find poise gripping into the bedsheets and in another wordless sound pushing against the back of his throat–
Nishikiyama's withdrawal leaves Mine unbalanced, or otherwise dizzy. Departing his touch there's just a prickling trail across his chest, too dull almost, Mine's senses emphasize somewhere else. Even the weight shifting when Nishikiyama gets up is leaving him unoriented, like he got too used to it in that short time.
More than he's got a mind to be flustered by that idea, Mine hears himself breathe hard and quickly, noisy compared to all else he's been. He leans up on his elbows, looking down at his cock straining against the waistband of his briefs. He can do it himself–
The thought's flushed out by Nishikiyama's demand. Mine meets him briefly, but not while he scoots back. He toes off his shoes, against the sheets his trousers ride down his thighs. ]
[ Nishikiyama stays at the end of the bed as Mine adjusts his positioning. He copies his idea in that same stretch, peeling his shoes and socks off one at a time until he's barefoot. His index and middle fingers— still a little wet from spit and precum— slip into a brass handle of the nearby end table. He's lucky to find a plastic case of toiletries inside. Makeup wipes, lotion, and other neatly packaged products zipped together cleanly... they're intended for a female guest. Face lotion is probably enough for this. Nishikiyama will settle.
He eyes Mine on the bed again. The seemingly impossible muscle definition he possesses. How his cheeks are flushed with uncharacteristic heat, and he looks so unusually clumsy and stunned. Nishikiyama feeds on that. He lifts one knee after the other onto the sheets and crawls up the bed's length with his eyes cast down on the other's cock.
The travel-sized lotion bottle is dropped somewhere in the blankets in case needed. More appetizing to him than what he'd done before, Nishikiyama hooks some of his hair behind his ear and sinks his head between Mine's thighs. The smattering of red ink— his koi fish— is seen on his back. There's no eye contact. Further between the other man's legs, he nuzzles at the shaft before settling his weight onto his elbows and belly. Nishikiyama doesn't explain himself when he slides the head of Mine's dick in his mouth. ]
Hnn.
[ He's yet to look up. Experimenting with Mine, he swirls his tongue around the glans with his lips sealed. ]
[ He watches Nishikiyama dig through the drawer where his reservations are concealed from seeing them. Mine swallows a gasp eventually, confining his own agitation. The intermission won't make him go soft, but he needs rationale to not simply feel abandoned in the wake of Nishikiyama's ministrations. Instead he's flustered by his confession to himself therein. Free of that unreadable judgment, Mine realizes he still needs the attention; Nishikiyama moves as if he can trace it in scent.
Mine sees the koi on his back as it bends and bows with him. He tries to remember seeing it in the bathhouse, asking about the motif and the method. Here, the red is set in stark contrast with Nishikiyama's dark hair spilling over his neck. Mine doesn't make the comparison consciously– he's only had a woman between his legs. He looks down, finding what he wants.
Even just the anticipation catches him with quickened breath. Nishikiyama's breath feels warm and damp grazing Mine's length, weighty in a way even his hand did not, the prelude to being taken between his lips. His brows draw deep on the ridge at his nose again, sensations overshot. Mine watches but is still surprised. Nishikiyama's tongue nudges the sensitive swollen tip but pushes it against his teeth on the opposite side. The dagger shock of it shoots into his groin. For once it lets Mine wonder if he's experience or experiment, in the next moment he's soothed, hot and soft movements lapping at his dick. ]
Ahh!
[ It's his first admission of a noise made for pleasure. ]
[ Nishikiyama's eyes move up at the sound that escapes as if Mine's fed something in him with it. Though he's the one calling the shots now, it's still difficult for him to sustain eye contact. Nishikiyama is too busy reverse engineering what good head feels like. His efforts serve their purpose, based on the noise from Mine. With both his hands settling near the base and scrotum, Nishikiyama bobs his head on the top half of the shaft a while longer. He lacks the confidence to pull it too much further into his throat— after all, the last thing he wants is to choke himself or gag.
Fingers weigh and cradle Mine's ballsack. His grip pumps lightly at the hilt and the bottom of his hand lightly plaps against exposed skin. It's not a scenario he'd ever imagined for himself. He's focused on trying to get Mine off. The intent to do so feels different than the start of the handy he'd tried earlier.
He's getting hard too. It's unfortunate he hasn't any hands left to touch himself with. Nishikiyama fidgets and buckles his legs behind himself instead. His cock aches against the surface of the bed. The shoulder blades beneath his koi fish tighten, and Nishikiyama lets Mine's dick spring from his mouth with a wet smack when he takes a breath of air. The pink of his tongue runs up the bottom arch of the barrel like he's not done with it yet. ]
[ Mine spots a hunger not satiated by having his mouth full when Nishikiyama's eyes flicker upward. He's strangely satisfied to share a glance like that, his earlier apprehension discounted. It's quite opposite that Mine's face retains the strained look and he's panting, undignified. He's not coming back from that.
There's purpose in every motion and Mine feels a foreboding heat collect beneath taut abs, traceable all the way over smooth skin. It halts where Nishikiyama squeezes and keeps to small movements at the base of his cock, like he means to gather it all in one spot first. Looking at himself, absorbed in sensation, the stutter to Nishikiyama's rhythmic nodding appears at the edge of Mine's vision. As if the koi on his back writhes against the current, he sees Nishikiyama's hips shift and him move atop the bed. The head of Mine's dick brushes against his top lip, pulling out. He feels flush to match the dark color. Seeing Nishikiyama push himself against the firm mattress turns him on.
Mine finds it embarrassing, needing to pause for breath when Nishikiyama licks up the shaft. ]
I– Hh... I'm going to– [ And even to hear himself speak so dutifully when otherwise he does it naturally– ]
[ The flat of Nishikiyama's tongue pulls a stripe up along Mine's cock. His eyes move to him again when he bites out the warning, expression somewhat dazed. Mine's words are all that break him from his focus. The dick he'd been sucking has filled out. Flushed dangerously full by now, there are telltale signs that Mine's about to meet his limit by how his pulse is felt twitching on the ridge of Nishikiyama's top lip. ]
—Already?
[ It's hard to tell whether Nishikiyama is pleased or disappointed by the news. His expression doesn't dispel any assumptions when he draws his head back, either. The palm wrapped around Mine's girth is heavier with its final strokes, and Nishikiyama deliberately tucks and massages his thumb over the other's ballsack to try and alleviate the pressure Mine's accumulated.
He doesn't say much else while waiting for what he'd knowingly provoked. His hips move on the bed, and his efforts to constrain his own arousal make the blankets rustle under them. Just as he sees the white start to bubble through, Nishikiyama cups a palm over the top of Mine's cock to trap it beneath its breadth. Unaimed, raw, honest. The warm fluid spurts over his skin in a crude way that Mine until now had almost seemed incapable of.
But Nishikiyama likes it. He likes seeing Mine this way. Without realizing it, he watches his face as he cums. The sight pulls at him, really, and his lips hang parted. ]
[ Mine doesn't know what Nishikiyama's answer sounds like either. Any other time he's desperate to read into it, but it's only his own dire want that buzzes in his head and, having said the imminence out loud, what has him peering over the edge now. Nishikiyama kneading his balls sends the anticipatory sensation further out. Mine presses his upper body into the pillows set at the headboard, his hands slide against the bedsheets before his fingers curl and snag the fabric. His thighs quiver until the muscles seize.
He's heaving air like the first surge is an effort and his face twists the same. Like there's still an urge to ward off his climax. Peering down at himself, though, his release claws at his throat and it finally gives noise to his panting as cum spurts against Nishikiyama's palm. His lower back lifts off the mattress and a sigh shudders past Mine's vocal chords when the motion pushes him into a cupped hand. What doesn't squeeze out between Nishikiyama's fingers dribbles back on Mine's cock and smears against it messily.
His gaze brushes past the patriarch's. They don't quite meet, but Mine looks at him frazzled. The short fine hairs at his hairline curl up against a sheen of sweat, having pulled away from being gelled back. Delay scratches at the realization that Nishikiyama has been watching him. While the rush of heat across his body has begun to fade, Mine feels strangely about the contact he'd sought in the car still.
Looking over Nishikiyama's back he sees him grind against the sheets repeatedly. Even though Mine knows he's spent, going soft but gulping breath, his dick throbs in the grip remaining at the base. ]
[ Nishikiyama looks at the semen that's splattered over his digits; how it's cloudy and clings to the spaces in between. He presses and separates his index and middle fingers just to watch how the fresh load drips and oozes. Strange to think that it belongs to Mine. That Nishikiyama might ever have another man ejaculate in his hand this way. He lowers his palm without a means to clean it. With Mine having climaxed and basking in a warm flush of aftermath, Nishikiyama can only realize that he's out of tricks. Maybe Mine will notice it too: Nishikiyama is hesitating. He's screwed. Unsure of how to follow up, or what to do next. Is now really the time to experiment past some sucking and heavy petting? What if it feels bad?
Two brows furrowing at the thought of how to start, Nishikiyama sits on the back of his legs until he's upright again. From this angle, his abs can be seen as they tighten and pull in. His pants tent where he's erect beneath them. Nishikiyama puts his clean hand in his hair to comb the fallen locks of hair that'd been displaced when he'd given head. ]
Get me off.
[ He wants to feel something from Mine too— what spark had made him cum like that and with such a face in the first place. ]
[ Watching Nishikiyama play with his cum between his fingers, Mine thinks how his only conscious thought to muster will be embarrassment, exiting his daze. He feels some of that, it's lewd considering that Nishikiyama's own meditations still display a kind of nonchalance, even after seeing him suck his dick. Mine's legs fall closed at the knees as Nishikiyama sits back, opaque remnants of his pleasure sticking to his inner thighs.
As he moves away, though, the hesitation that has only cowered on the edge of Mine's vision comes into the center. Eyes on him feel less like Nishikiyama's plotting his next step or herding him into another position. The focus Mine finds replaced on himself is dark but different. He finally recognizes the remnants of uncertainty shared between them in the car, when neither of them had quite been able to look at the other. Mine's reminded what he'd confessed there. Nebulous and unfixed, he'd meant it still, his wanting to be close him–
He looks, obviously, at Nishikiyama's erection straining beneath his pants; his request– with his own bottoms halfway down and not wanting to stain his pants, moving is awkward, but Mine sits up. He keeps his legs together, leaning forward, until he needs to brace himself on the bed. With his arm straight, his hand lays flat on the mattress, his index brushing Nishikiyama's right knee. Mine's gaze jumps between Nishikiyama's face, hair pushed back into place, and his still-zipped trousers and the tight belt, the band sitting higher on Nishikiyama's waist than Mine wears it. Gathering those details'll make him seem hesitant.
He tugs at the silver buckle, pulling black leather out of the loops. Even with the fly down, he cups his hand over double layers. His thumb nudges between two flaps of fabric, though, rubbing up against the base of Nishikiyama's cock. ]
[ Nishikiyama accepts Mine's touch the way a stray cat might after bristling and hissing, or the way a stallion that's never known a rider might. He tenses and lets his walls fall. He stays quiet. He avoids Mine's gaze, but it's not because he dislikes him. The feeling that's returned to him now, just as Mine's already noticed, sings true to the car ride here. What they're doing now means something. Everything between them until now will be different when it's over.
Nishikiyama wonders if he should be afraid of that. His eyes shut when Mine's thumb traces the bottom of his cock, and he expels a held breath slowly through his nostrils. A sigh; it feels nice. His legs move further apart to provide access, and when he finally, finally, concedes to the intimacy— the vulnerability of accepting Mine's favor, he presses himself to fit the swollen bulge against the other man's palm entirely. It's trapped in the fabric of his underwear and will spill from it the moment Mine lowers them. He knows that much but...
[ Mine drags his thumb along the suggested curve of his cock, reaching up the shaft a few times. He tries to concentrate, trying to remember the motions Nishikiyama administered just before it all blurred into ecstasy for Mine himself. Letting his hand do the work is easier than thinking about it methodically, though. When he exhales and the sound of steadily brought out air wisps by his ear, Mine can't help but notice how far he's leaning in. Fine hairs on the back of his neck react as Nishikiyama urges himself against his palm too.
Slowing down because of it doesn't suggest he'll shirk back from the closeness, though. Deliberately Mine's thumb hooks into the waistband of Nishikiyama's underwear, pulling it down until his cock springs out. Looking at the flushed tip, his chest heaves with breath as Mine wets the flat of his own hand on his tongue. He spreads it against the glans, sections of his thumb and index encircling the ridges where his fingertips suggest some pressure. Mine harbors tension in his wrist.
His gaze flickers, realizing he's kept himself from looking up only to find Nishikiyama's eyes not to be met there. Mine slides his hand down the length partway. He feels bold to watch the girth of Nishikiyama's dick force a gap between his fingers and squeezes a little. ]
[ Nishikiyama's voice strains by habit; restrained, not wanting to be loud. Small a noise as it may've been, a wash of shame comes over his cheeks and ears. He's yet to creak his eyes open and see Mine there across from him— paying such close attention. Nishikiyama doesn't know if he can yet. Wrapped in the wet clutch of Mine's grip, his breaths have grown more shaky. His cock, now glistening with Mine's saliva and his precum, spreads the other man's fingers. The slight squeeze of hand soothes an ache and is pleasant around him.
It's so pleasant that Nishikiyama feels anxious. Mine must be thinking something about him now, and he doesn't know what. Not knowing what he's thinking resurfaces a learned stab of fear, and his eyes level upward. They burn. They're accusatory.
...But of what crime? Swallowing down the chance of making more sound, Nishikiyama's gaze catches Mine's with said eyes.
What is he thinking? What is he thinking? Nishikiyama wonders it again and again, but when he can't figure it out, he huffs to sweep Mine closer to himself. He cradles the back of Mine's neck with the clean hand he's left.
All he knows is that he doesn't want to be thought about when he's like this. Nishikiyama doesn't want Mine to think about what his responses mean, either. Thinking that and hurriedly, he forces Mine to kiss him. He tries this to stifle the strange feeling that started to trickle through— a fear that's mingled with sexual gratification. ]
[ At the little sound Nishikiyama makes Mine doesn't find himself in the position nor in the habit to make mention. His satisfaction is quiet and subdued even within his own thoughts. However, that is where it sediments. Warmth flows into the lines of his palm, up-and-down strokes slicked up with Nishikiyama's anticipation. Just like he'd said to do, Mine thinks about getting him off– but there's more.
Nishikiyama's gaze falls on him with an intensity he's met, but isn't used to. Confronting it on that short distance chases a mirror of dread down his spine. Mine, surprised by the hand folding against his nape, sucks in breath. For a moment he's left to believe the kiss will simply smother him and he's paralyzed.
Even so, Mine understands that this is where his declaration of loyalty to Nishikiyama is meant to culminate, if only he closes his eyes to his own hesitation and uncertainty. He shuts them, his lips part instead– so that Nishikiyama won't see either. Mine's thumb stutters over the tip, picking up motion he'd abandoned. He feels his own pulse compete with the throbbing of Nishikiyama's dick. Beneath his breastbone cowers a noise he might make, but Mine wants it to suffocate. ]
[ Nishikiyama's ribs give a short shudder, and though his mind is privy to drift towards paranoia, he instead funnels his focus in on Mine himself. What he's done until now, what he's said. He feels their tongues brush together. He thinks this is too far for someone to go. Certainly too far if they'd wanted anything else from him. Mine had reached the top already, Nishikiyama reminds himself. He's had power before. Influence, bed partners. None of it matters to Mine; not the money, not the top of the Tojo Clan...
It's safe, isn't it?
As Mine's ministrations grow more and more concentrated, Nishikiyama sighs shakily into his mouth. The sound is raw but sweet. A sheen of sweat is cast upon him by his heightened temperature, and he's at the cusp of orgasm when he holds onto Mine tightly. He keeps himself grounded that way. Otherwise, his mind will spiral elsewhere— likely somewhere dark. Not now, though. Nishikiyama holds fast. He shallowly bucks his hips into Mine's fist once without realizing it. His cock twitches demandingly beneath Mine's strokes. ]
More.
[ Almost there. He's about to cum; he could choke on that feeling. He wants Mine to push him over it. ]
[ Nishikiyama's sigh oscillates in his throat, pleasant on top of the sound he's swallowed. The muscles sit hard on Mine's shoulders, tension crawling out from under the hand against his neck. He hears himself ask what he's doing... Mine has steeled himself against rejection, keeping defenses up or rather a counter. A remnant of that lies behind closed eyes even now. Nishikiyama prodding at why someone like him chooses to pursue organized crime– Mine's answer has become warped. Nishikiyama is right, that he starves himself at a set table.
Mine revisits the talk in the car. He's said what he wants, that he wants, plainly.
He has the patriarch's urge slide against his hand, full and imminent. He listens, the demand set in his head rather than Mine's chance to retort admonishment. In between quicker strokes that consider Nishikiyama's length his fingertips nudge at the sensitive band of tissue at his glans. He feels pressure bulge against his digits before white fluid bubbles out. Nishikiyama's cum spurts warm in blots against Mine's abs, unstopped ahead of him cupping his palm over it. Suddenly relinquishing his motions, the rest spreads quickly between his fingers.
Not being touched Mine still feels warmth graze his own thighs. The moment is finite, though. Returning to clarity, he takes mouthfuls of Nishikiyama's heated breath without his tongue in the kiss. They both came, here. Mine feels the mess of it sticking to his body. ]
[ Sinew and muscle tighten and lock, Nishikiyama's voice dying somewhere in his throat. Orgasm floods him in a hard wave; his body relaxes after release. He comes off it. A long moment passes as Mine kisses him. Seems he's someone to lick Nishikiyama's wounds. His own lips follow along tiredly, the earlier desperation he'd felt dispelled and splattered across the other man's stomach. For once, Nishikiyama doesn't think. He just is— he is whatever the two of them are right now. Yakuza, weren't they? Supposedly, it'd been what they wanted.
It takes him a while to remember. His cock wanes in the other's hand, and his eyes open once more, moving up towards Mine's face to check on him. He doesn't quite pull from him, but his kisses are lazier against Mine's own. Even the taste of tobacco, whose is whose, is hard to distinguish anymore. They just taste like each other now.
Nishikiyama thinks of something to say to Mine: ]
I don't know what's happening anymore. We're both fucking crazy.
[ He rides along on the afterglow to where his own breathing quiets. Then Mine, too, gains a moment to himself. With Nishikiyama's dick soft, he leans on fingers tented against the mattress, aiming not to get anything on the sheets against all odds. Mine slips out of the kiss, not really holding on anymore either. He sits back, the arch of his spine pronouncing muscles in the front. Dim lighting obscures the lewd smears on his skin, that Mine bans to the corner of his vision. Looking up, he sees Nishikiyama search his face. Ironically, Mine startles at the lack of a sting in the other man's gaze.
Right. They're crazy, aren't they– he has to wonder if it's ecstasy boring deep into his brain and stimulating, or if he's come to read Nishikiyama's tone just so. The jab doesn't twist his gut. ]
Boss–
[ Mine hears himself clearly, but at the same time he isn't sure what he hopes to say. Supposedly, they're yakuza, but returning to the conversation in the car is impossible and the distance of any title sounds fraudulent. He winces at how blunt he's being... though, there's unfamiliar relief nestled within it. Brown eyes end up meeting Nishikiyama's, Mine's reply without barb along the edge. ]
[ Not really, as long as both of them are caught up in it.
Nishikiyama watches Mine lean back in front of him and squints at him in an almost finicky way. Like a cake that's delicious but too sweet to bite into a second time. He'd been stuck in the haze of the moment earlier, but with the scene around them slowly coming to make sense again, the reality of it sinking in, he can only think that Mine is handsome. Nishikiyama had liked doing what they'd done just now a little too much.
He slides off the sheets with a rustle. One of his hands is still coated in spunk and it takes a lot for him not to flick it off onto the floor out of habit. He's moving toward a tissue box and ashtray that's on a side table inconveniently far from the bed. When he takes both of them in his arms, he moves back to the bed and kicks off his pants. They're just in his way at this point.
His legs hit the mattress again with a bounce. He looks for a cigarette box, only to realize that they're still in his jacket. ]
[ Mine is wont to speculate if he wants him to say something else. Strangely, though, that nonchalance provides sedation for roaming thoughts even as he finds himself under scrutiny. Conversely, he can look at Nishikiyama in the same setting. His angular face cheats the blip of a thought Mine'd held with the other man's his head between his legs. Then, not his insinuating question'd halted the flood and fulfilment of some longing Mine admitted before long. It'd happened easily.
He watches as Nishikiyama gets up. Slivers of red ink inevitably draw his attention. Mine'd found himself with vain, impatient jealousy when he'd first seen the tattoo. He remembers a different angle; the tail cinches his naked waist. Following Nishikiyama proposes a realization Mine is out of time to respond to before he sits back down.
When he can reach for it, Mine quickly crumples a tissue in his hand. There's the empty ashtray and Nishikiyama speaking up; Mine hasn't failed to light his cigarettes once ever since being told to do it. He climbs off the bed, also to strip off his pants and take his lighter, and bending down turns his back to Nishikiyama. Linework traces a single lick of the flames surrounding the chimera down the cleft between his glutes. The serene expression carved into Mine's back is betrayed by his kirin's rearing up its front legs when he comes back up.
He walks to the coat rack. He wants Nishikiyama to see his irezumi before coming back. ]
Here.
[ With a smoke jutting out of the soft pack of hi-lites, Mine stands at the foot the bed. A long pause. His question obviously lingers in the air between them before he asks it. ]
[ Just as Mine hoped, Nishikiyama's noticed the full span of clean ink there on his back; without redness, the artwork sharp. He starts to register just what the illustration represents, at the same time taking the cigarette from its pack.
How cute that Mine seems to be fishing for a response. There's an innocence there in it, and Nishikiyama's reminded of himself when he'd turned twenty and gotten his— ]
Let me see again.
[ There's an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips now. ]
[ Mine lights it, of course. As his face draws close, leaning in to hold the lighter, Nishikiyama can surely catch a glint in his eyes– something mingling of the intimacy strung between them that still chokes heat around Mine's neck and gratification he finds with Nishikiyama's request.
He turns around again. It's hard to say Mine at twenty was the same, but without doubt he now looks for approval. ]
The design wasn't something I expected.
[ Still, he doesn't sound like he takes issue with the motif. He'd reflected on—then, rigidly—Nishikiyama sharing his own surprise at his carp. Mine turns his head just slightly, not enough to even see the other man, but intending to meet a reply soon. He concedes in earnest: ]
[ Nishikiyama's fingers curl about the cigarette when Mine turn. Eyes swim across the span of his back, to the ink carved into it, in a thoughtful silence. A winding silver waft of tobacco smoke spirals over the uncolored kirin when Nishikiyama takes a drag. Hearing what Mine says, his lips tug into a dry smile. His eyes move up in the same moment that Mine's head turns to the side to acknowledge his attention. ]
You'd better put up a good fight with something like that on your back. People will expect you match it.
[ Mine imagines Nishikiyama's face serious, not sure of the smile. It speaks to his own, hoarded tension. Mine'd gone on to review the mythology compulsively. In one word, the kirin spells auspiciousness. He wonders if Nishikiyama will judge it next to his koi. But without thinking his shoulders lift with a deep breath, with self-confidence even. He's glad. It's Nishikiyama's expectation he hears in his answer, much more than 'people's remote anticipation. ]
Yes, I'm aware. Carrying that responsibility, [ There are things he's said before– ] I'm committed to putting up a strong fight.
[ Mine's fists clench at this sides, around Nishikiyama's praise. ]
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no subject
Nishikiyama's lips tease at his ear with admonishment and when he's that close, he'll feel Mine's air puff against his skin, getting faster. The same question and a gun to his head, it'd all been fear. Mine knew how to answer that time.
Heat becomes trapped between them and Mine's chest rises more intently, at the same time more taking breaths more shallow, at the call of Nishikiyama's trail across his collarbone. ]
No– [ Again, and his answer chokes in his throat the same. He doesn't know what Nishikiyama is threatening him with. ]
no subject
Settled comfortably in the space above Mine's shoulder, Nishikiyama's face is relaxed when he gazes down at the slick, rose-flushed tip of Mine's cock. It's the one part of him that betrays his otherwise docility. Sort of cute. Nishikiyama bullies Mine some by spoiling the head of it, his wrist twisting and digits splaying so he can push it through the gaps of his fingers. It's strangely enjoyable to jerk someone other than himself off, he finds. Self-gratification had almost felt like a chore for him, with how he'd struggled to center his thoughts lately. He uses Mine's precum to keep things wet and feels the other's pulse drumming through the length— probably enough to flush him out, should he not resist doing so too hard. He shouldn't though. Nishikiyama thinks it's clear from the build-up in the car that he wants to do something more exciting than this.
The teeth at Mine's ear withdraw, leaving something sort of like a kiss behind. It's a little too lazy to be deliberate. After drifting his touch across the span of Mine's chest, Nishikiyama sits up straight again and starts to dismount. He abandons the other's dick, cruelly leaving it erect and untended.
It doesn't mean it's out of mind, however. Nishikiyama's eyes are still on it. ]
I want to work longways. The bed's pointless unless it's getting used.
no subject
Nishikiyama's withdrawal leaves Mine unbalanced, or otherwise dizzy. Departing his touch there's just a prickling trail across his chest, too dull almost, Mine's senses emphasize somewhere else. Even the weight shifting when Nishikiyama gets up is leaving him unoriented, like he got too used to it in that short time.
More than he's got a mind to be flustered by that idea, Mine hears himself breathe hard and quickly, noisy compared to all else he's been. He leans up on his elbows, looking down at his cock straining against the waistband of his briefs. He can do it himself–
The thought's flushed out by Nishikiyama's demand. Mine meets him briefly, but not while he scoots back. He toes off his shoes, against the sheets his trousers ride down his thighs. ]
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He eyes Mine on the bed again. The seemingly impossible muscle definition he possesses. How his cheeks are flushed with uncharacteristic heat, and he looks so unusually clumsy and stunned. Nishikiyama feeds on that. He lifts one knee after the other onto the sheets and crawls up the bed's length with his eyes cast down on the other's cock.
The travel-sized lotion bottle is dropped somewhere in the blankets in case needed. More appetizing to him than what he'd done before, Nishikiyama hooks some of his hair behind his ear and sinks his head between Mine's thighs. The smattering of red ink— his koi fish— is seen on his back. There's no eye contact. Further between the other man's legs, he nuzzles at the shaft before settling his weight onto his elbows and belly. Nishikiyama doesn't explain himself when he slides the head of Mine's dick in his mouth. ]
Hnn.
[ He's yet to look up. Experimenting with Mine, he swirls his tongue around the glans with his lips sealed. ]
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Mine sees the koi on his back as it bends and bows with him. He tries to remember seeing it in the bathhouse, asking about the motif and the method. Here, the red is set in stark contrast with Nishikiyama's dark hair spilling over his neck. Mine doesn't make the comparison consciously– he's only had a woman between his legs. He looks down, finding what he wants.
Even just the anticipation catches him with quickened breath. Nishikiyama's breath feels warm and damp grazing Mine's length, weighty in a way even his hand did not, the prelude to being taken between his lips. His brows draw deep on the ridge at his nose again, sensations overshot. Mine watches but is still surprised. Nishikiyama's tongue nudges the sensitive swollen tip but pushes it against his teeth on the opposite side. The dagger shock of it shoots into his groin. For once it lets Mine wonder if he's experience or experiment, in the next moment he's soothed, hot and soft movements lapping at his dick. ]
Ahh!
[ It's his first admission of a noise made for pleasure. ]
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Fingers weigh and cradle Mine's ballsack. His grip pumps lightly at the hilt and the bottom of his hand lightly plaps against exposed skin. It's not a scenario he'd ever imagined for himself. He's focused on trying to get Mine off. The intent to do so feels different than the start of the handy he'd tried earlier.
He's getting hard too. It's unfortunate he hasn't any hands left to touch himself with. Nishikiyama fidgets and buckles his legs behind himself instead. His cock aches against the surface of the bed. The shoulder blades beneath his koi fish tighten, and Nishikiyama lets Mine's dick spring from his mouth with a wet smack when he takes a breath of air. The pink of his tongue runs up the bottom arch of the barrel like he's not done with it yet. ]
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There's purpose in every motion and Mine feels a foreboding heat collect beneath taut abs, traceable all the way over smooth skin. It halts where Nishikiyama squeezes and keeps to small movements at the base of his cock, like he means to gather it all in one spot first. Looking at himself, absorbed in sensation, the stutter to Nishikiyama's rhythmic nodding appears at the edge of Mine's vision. As if the koi on his back writhes against the current, he sees Nishikiyama's hips shift and him move atop the bed. The head of Mine's dick brushes against his top lip, pulling out. He feels flush to match the dark color. Seeing Nishikiyama push himself against the firm mattress turns him on.
Mine finds it embarrassing, needing to pause for breath when Nishikiyama licks up the shaft. ]
I– Hh... I'm going to– [ And even to hear himself speak so dutifully when otherwise he does it naturally– ]
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—Already?
[ It's hard to tell whether Nishikiyama is pleased or disappointed by the news. His expression doesn't dispel any assumptions when he draws his head back, either. The palm wrapped around Mine's girth is heavier with its final strokes, and Nishikiyama deliberately tucks and massages his thumb over the other's ballsack to try and alleviate the pressure Mine's accumulated.
He doesn't say much else while waiting for what he'd knowingly provoked. His hips move on the bed, and his efforts to constrain his own arousal make the blankets rustle under them. Just as he sees the white start to bubble through, Nishikiyama cups a palm over the top of Mine's cock to trap it beneath its breadth. Unaimed, raw, honest. The warm fluid spurts over his skin in a crude way that Mine until now had almost seemed incapable of.
But Nishikiyama likes it. He likes seeing Mine this way. Without realizing it, he watches his face as he cums. The sight pulls at him, really, and his lips hang parted. ]
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He's heaving air like the first surge is an effort and his face twists the same. Like there's still an urge to ward off his climax. Peering down at himself, though, his release claws at his throat and it finally gives noise to his panting as cum spurts against Nishikiyama's palm. His lower back lifts off the mattress and a sigh shudders past Mine's vocal chords when the motion pushes him into a cupped hand. What doesn't squeeze out between Nishikiyama's fingers dribbles back on Mine's cock and smears against it messily.
His gaze brushes past the patriarch's. They don't quite meet, but Mine looks at him frazzled. The short fine hairs at his hairline curl up against a sheen of sweat, having pulled away from being gelled back. Delay scratches at the realization that Nishikiyama has been watching him. While the rush of heat across his body has begun to fade, Mine feels strangely about the contact he'd sought in the car still.
Looking over Nishikiyama's back he sees him grind against the sheets repeatedly. Even though Mine knows he's spent, going soft but gulping breath, his dick throbs in the grip remaining at the base. ]
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Two brows furrowing at the thought of how to start, Nishikiyama sits on the back of his legs until he's upright again. From this angle, his abs can be seen as they tighten and pull in. His pants tent where he's erect beneath them. Nishikiyama puts his clean hand in his hair to comb the fallen locks of hair that'd been displaced when he'd given head. ]
Get me off.
[ He wants to feel something from Mine too— what spark had made him cum like that and with such a face in the first place. ]
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As he moves away, though, the hesitation that has only cowered on the edge of Mine's vision comes into the center. Eyes on him feel less like Nishikiyama's plotting his next step or herding him into another position. The focus Mine finds replaced on himself is dark but different. He finally recognizes the remnants of uncertainty shared between them in the car, when neither of them had quite been able to look at the other. Mine's reminded what he'd confessed there. Nebulous and unfixed, he'd meant it still, his wanting to be close him–
He looks, obviously, at Nishikiyama's erection straining beneath his pants; his request– with his own bottoms halfway down and not wanting to stain his pants, moving is awkward, but Mine sits up. He keeps his legs together, leaning forward, until he needs to brace himself on the bed. With his arm straight, his hand lays flat on the mattress, his index brushing Nishikiyama's right knee. Mine's gaze jumps between Nishikiyama's face, hair pushed back into place, and his still-zipped trousers and the tight belt, the band sitting higher on Nishikiyama's waist than Mine wears it. Gathering those details'll make him seem hesitant.
He tugs at the silver buckle, pulling black leather out of the loops. Even with the fly down, he cups his hand over double layers. His thumb nudges between two flaps of fabric, though, rubbing up against the base of Nishikiyama's cock. ]
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Nishikiyama wonders if he should be afraid of that. His eyes shut when Mine's thumb traces the bottom of his cock, and he expels a held breath slowly through his nostrils. A sigh; it feels nice. His legs move further apart to provide access, and when he finally, finally, concedes to the intimacy— the vulnerability of accepting Mine's favor, he presses himself to fit the swollen bulge against the other man's palm entirely. It's trapped in the fabric of his underwear and will spill from it the moment Mine lowers them. He knows that much but...
Nishikiyama won't watch. ]
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Slowing down because of it doesn't suggest he'll shirk back from the closeness, though. Deliberately Mine's thumb hooks into the waistband of Nishikiyama's underwear, pulling it down until his cock springs out. Looking at the flushed tip, his chest heaves with breath as Mine wets the flat of his own hand on his tongue. He spreads it against the glans, sections of his thumb and index encircling the ridges where his fingertips suggest some pressure. Mine harbors tension in his wrist.
His gaze flickers, realizing he's kept himself from looking up only to find Nishikiyama's eyes not to be met there. Mine slides his hand down the length partway. He feels bold to watch the girth of Nishikiyama's dick force a gap between his fingers and squeezes a little. ]
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[ Nishikiyama's voice strains by habit; restrained, not wanting to be loud. Small a noise as it may've been, a wash of shame comes over his cheeks and ears. He's yet to creak his eyes open and see Mine there across from him— paying such close attention. Nishikiyama doesn't know if he can yet. Wrapped in the wet clutch of Mine's grip, his breaths have grown more shaky. His cock, now glistening with Mine's saliva and his precum, spreads the other man's fingers. The slight squeeze of hand soothes an ache and is pleasant around him.
It's so pleasant that Nishikiyama feels anxious. Mine must be thinking something about him now, and he doesn't know what. Not knowing what he's thinking resurfaces a learned stab of fear, and his eyes level upward. They burn. They're accusatory.
...But of what crime? Swallowing down the chance of making more sound, Nishikiyama's gaze catches Mine's with said eyes.
What is he thinking? What is he thinking? Nishikiyama wonders it again and again, but when he can't figure it out, he huffs to sweep Mine closer to himself. He cradles the back of Mine's neck with the clean hand he's left.
All he knows is that he doesn't want to be thought about when he's like this. Nishikiyama doesn't want Mine to think about what his responses mean, either. Thinking that and hurriedly, he forces Mine to kiss him. He tries this to stifle the strange feeling that started to trickle through— a fear that's mingled with sexual gratification. ]
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Nishikiyama's gaze falls on him with an intensity he's met, but isn't used to. Confronting it on that short distance chases a mirror of dread down his spine. Mine, surprised by the hand folding against his nape, sucks in breath. For a moment he's left to believe the kiss will simply smother him and he's paralyzed.
Even so, Mine understands that this is where his declaration of loyalty to Nishikiyama is meant to culminate, if only he closes his eyes to his own hesitation and uncertainty. He shuts them, his lips part instead– so that Nishikiyama won't see either. Mine's thumb stutters over the tip, picking up motion he'd abandoned. He feels his own pulse compete with the throbbing of Nishikiyama's dick. Beneath his breastbone cowers a noise he might make, but Mine wants it to suffocate. ]
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It's safe, isn't it?
As Mine's ministrations grow more and more concentrated, Nishikiyama sighs shakily into his mouth. The sound is raw but sweet. A sheen of sweat is cast upon him by his heightened temperature, and he's at the cusp of orgasm when he holds onto Mine tightly. He keeps himself grounded that way. Otherwise, his mind will spiral elsewhere— likely somewhere dark. Not now, though. Nishikiyama holds fast. He shallowly bucks his hips into Mine's fist once without realizing it. His cock twitches demandingly beneath Mine's strokes. ]
More.
[ Almost there. He's about to cum; he could choke on that feeling. He wants Mine to push him over it. ]
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Mine revisits the talk in the car. He's said what he wants, that he wants, plainly.
He has the patriarch's urge slide against his hand, full and imminent. He listens, the demand set in his head rather than Mine's chance to retort admonishment. In between quicker strokes that consider Nishikiyama's length his fingertips nudge at the sensitive band of tissue at his glans. He feels pressure bulge against his digits before white fluid bubbles out. Nishikiyama's cum spurts warm in blots against Mine's abs, unstopped ahead of him cupping his palm over it. Suddenly relinquishing his motions, the rest spreads quickly between his fingers.
Not being touched Mine still feels warmth graze his own thighs. The moment is finite, though. Returning to clarity, he takes mouthfuls of Nishikiyama's heated breath without his tongue in the kiss. They both came, here. Mine feels the mess of it sticking to his body. ]
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It takes him a while to remember. His cock wanes in the other's hand, and his eyes open once more, moving up towards Mine's face to check on him. He doesn't quite pull from him, but his kisses are lazier against Mine's own. Even the taste of tobacco, whose is whose, is hard to distinguish anymore. They just taste like each other now.
Nishikiyama thinks of something to say to Mine: ]
I don't know what's happening anymore. We're both fucking crazy.
[ All of it complaint without any bite. ]
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Right. They're crazy, aren't they– he has to wonder if it's ecstasy boring deep into his brain and stimulating, or if he's come to read Nishikiyama's tone just so. The jab doesn't twist his gut. ]
Boss–
[ Mine hears himself clearly, but at the same time he isn't sure what he hopes to say. Supposedly, they're yakuza, but returning to the conversation in the car is impossible and the distance of any title sounds fraudulent. He winces at how blunt he's being... though, there's unfamiliar relief nestled within it. Brown eyes end up meeting Nishikiyama's, Mine's reply without barb along the edge. ]
I don't know either.
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[ Not really, as long as both of them are caught up in it.
Nishikiyama watches Mine lean back in front of him and squints at him in an almost finicky way. Like a cake that's delicious but too sweet to bite into a second time. He'd been stuck in the haze of the moment earlier, but with the scene around them slowly coming to make sense again, the reality of it sinking in, he can only think that Mine is handsome. Nishikiyama had liked doing what they'd done just now a little too much.
He slides off the sheets with a rustle. One of his hands is still coated in spunk and it takes a lot for him not to flick it off onto the floor out of habit. He's moving toward a tissue box and ashtray that's on a side table inconveniently far from the bed. When he takes both of them in his arms, he moves back to the bed and kicks off his pants. They're just in his way at this point.
His legs hit the mattress again with a bounce. He looks for a cigarette box, only to realize that they're still in his jacket. ]
ーMine.
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He watches as Nishikiyama gets up. Slivers of red ink inevitably draw his attention. Mine'd found himself with vain, impatient jealousy when he'd first seen the tattoo. He remembers a different angle; the tail cinches his naked waist. Following Nishikiyama proposes a realization Mine is out of time to respond to before he sits back down.
When he can reach for it, Mine quickly crumples a tissue in his hand. There's the empty ashtray and Nishikiyama speaking up; Mine hasn't failed to light his cigarettes once ever since being told to do it. He climbs off the bed, also to strip off his pants and take his lighter, and bending down turns his back to Nishikiyama. Linework traces a single lick of the flames surrounding the chimera down the cleft between his glutes. The serene expression carved into Mine's back is betrayed by his kirin's rearing up its front legs when he comes back up.
He walks to the coat rack. He wants Nishikiyama to see his irezumi before coming back. ]
Here.
[ With a smoke jutting out of the soft pack of hi-lites, Mine stands at the foot the bed. A long pause. His question obviously lingers in the air between them before he asks it. ]
Do you like it?
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How cute that Mine seems to be fishing for a response. There's an innocence there in it, and Nishikiyama's reminded of himself when he'd turned twenty and gotten his— ]
Let me see again.
[ There's an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips now. ]
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He turns around again. It's hard to say Mine at twenty was the same, but without doubt he now looks for approval. ]
The design wasn't something I expected.
[ Still, he doesn't sound like he takes issue with the motif. He'd reflected on—then, rigidly—Nishikiyama sharing his own surprise at his carp. Mine turns his head just slightly, not enough to even see the other man, but intending to meet a reply soon. He concedes in earnest: ]
Nor what he told me about it.
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You'd better put up a good fight with something like that on your back. People will expect you match it.
[ It's praise. ]
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Yes, I'm aware. Carrying that responsibility, [ There are things he's said before– ] I'm committed to putting up a strong fight.
[ Mine's fists clench at this sides, around Nishikiyama's praise. ]
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