[ Mine stands there all stiff because he's still trying to make room, it just doesn't work if he doesn't move further– as a result his shoulder bounces against the wall when Nishikiyama shoves him again. He frowns, doesn't like it.
It's hard to say what they're even arguing about, but Mine finds slivers of defiance... For no good reason and definitely not to match his words, when he says he's sorry, insisting in essence. ]
No, I am.
[ A grunt, the revelation making him feel slow. His own mint's melted away under his tongue removing unpleasant aftertaste, so it's not an issue on his mind. A frown twitches on his brow; he's displeased, but whether with himself or with Nishikiyama for not being clear isn't possible to say. ]
You could've said so–
[ His argument to a lack of action. Even now. Then, Mine laughs suddenly. That one, that barely sounds like more than an itch in his throat, but the corner of his mouth pulls up obviously with it. He's realized something between them. ]
[ Though Nishikiyama doesn't seem to realize he's being lumped in with the statement. Giving up on escape, he simply stands and stops protesting since Mine's refused to move. He doesn't think of the breath mint he'd asked for, instead focusing on what he can pick apart now. ]
I told you I wanted a mint already— I wasn't hiding it.
[ He steps away with no other space to fill, pressing his own back into the opposite end of the stall and frowning. He remains trapped near the toilet for as long as Mine doesn't clear an opening for an exit. ]
I'll drive the car back since you're too fucked up.
[ Nishikiyama's excuse now because, wasted or otherwise, he still wants to drive an expensive vehicle. ]
[ Mine doesn't take his patriarch's forgoing his escape as anything to do with him. He does still feel good about noticing they're both wasted, too, as if based on that he can convince himself that it's his return to clarity. It makes it easier for Mine to finally act on what Nishikiyama's saying– or has been.
He turns to leave the stall with a sigh, more to be ascribed to him moving at all, rather than taking issue with what he's doing. Blurry vision still manages to focus on the box of mints left by the sink eventually. Mine holds it out in front of him. ]
Here– [ Then, after a few beats, his question. ] You'll drive?
[ He wants to go home, ditch this party that's gotten too loud– now that Mine's further out in the restroom again, he thinks he can hear the uproar Kanda has instigated. Displeasure for it shows on his face, in wrinkles around his mouth that's departed from his brief smile, and also that he's a little critical of the other man's proposal. ]
If you want to leave...
[ Mine knows that he's himself in no shape to, but it doesn't translate to asking Nishikiyama—who's in a like state—more seriously to reconsider. He's willing to hand over his keys to the yellow sports car parked in the next parking lot over, though. ]
[ He pops not just one, but a few of the breath mints in his mouth when he's finally granted access to them. Nishikiyama moves to Mine's abandoned lighter, not seeming to think it's Mine's, and puts it in his pocket while his tongue burns cold. The unpleasant flavor from before is erased as he splashes some water on his tongue and gargles. ]
Yeah, I want to. I'm tired of this place.
[ He watches Mine behind him through the mirror, a strange mood tucked beneath them but dissipating when he turns to leave the restroom. There are other things to tend to. He has to get rid of the others. His face scrunches in similar annoyance when he shoos them off and dismisses them, dissolving the yakiniku party in a single breath. After rolling the room shut, he proceeds in a wobbly line to the parking lot and receives Mine's car keys.
He can't help but smile. True nature there, there's a boyish excitement in his eyes when he makes his way near the driver's side and clicks the lock open with the button under his thumbnail. ]
—Hooo.
[ His figure falls into the seat and he eagerly adjusts the rearview mirror to suit it. His teeth click, impressed. ]
[ Getting out to the car'd turned into a blur, Mine finds, when he slides into the passenger seat of his Lamborghini. It's where he sort of stops moving again and his head gets to catch up in a sense– did he forget his lighter in the bathroom? Mine tries to feel for it on his person. Half-dressed again, tie pulled out of his shirt and sleeves down, he'd been carrying his jacket and now leaves it in his lap.
There's not much thought to spare for any of the other men when he turns his head to look at Nishikiyama. The sound he makes lets Mine be proud and a smirk touch one side of his mouth. It's his car he's admiring. ]
I worked hard for this.
[ Honest, dry truth while Mine's head swims in alcohol. Talking about work, about money, here, there's not a touch of bitterness. He leans his head against the champagne-white leather. ]
He finishes making adjustments, the only evidence of driving he’ll leave behind for a sober Mine tomorrow, and starts the Lamborghini. There’s a smooth hum of engine to follow, one that he knows and likes. The car is worth more than some of the guys left behind in the restaurant.
He backs out, tries to. Brakes stutter when he’s not in reverse. There’s a look on Nishikiyama’s face when he holds his hand up (he doesn’t want Mine’s commentary) and corrects the mistake. The steering wheel spins. He puts the vehicle in the proper gear and pulls out of the parking spot as originally intended. But then he parks in the middle of the lot.
Eyes moving from the rearview mirror to the console, he pokes at the buttons that make the most sense to try and start the radio. The windows on either side of both of them roll lower, and some Nishikiyama Family members now going home whistle and hoot through the gaps at them.
There’s something more pressing on his mind, though. Before he can let them onto the road, the lighter Mine thinks he’d lost is revealed to be in Nishikiyama’s possession. It licks the tip of a cigarette, and he blows a fat cloud of smoke out at some of his men before grinning and offering Mine the box of remainders. ]
[ There'd not much for Mine to note—especially with the hand coming up quickly—other than that he's rarely the passenger in his own car. He likes the flawless, vivid paint job, the expensive interior and the noise that big an engine makes at the slightest touch of a pedal. He likes it now too, not thinking that Nishikiyama's as wasted as he is. His agreement sounded like praise even, Mine likes to flatter himself.
Mine's eyes appear in a slit farther across through the driver side window. He turns his head the other way at the yowling outside. Nishikiyama is cocky in his new position and Mine likes lending that to him. He finds himself liking several things right now.
Shaking the cigarette box near him makes Mine turn away from the noise again, though. He leans forward and takes it, a glance up to where he sees Nishikiyama's already lit his and there's nothing else for him to do. ]
Thanks.
[ He hadn't been so casual before, not as the one driving them to the hotel. Briefly some reasonable thought appears, if he should smoke if he felt sick and that he didn't like the taste much... on its own. Mine twists one of the knobs at the console just to turn up the radio's volume, the station that gets picked up. Then he slumps back into the seat– eyes on his driver, so obvious.
[ Muscle memory serves Nishikiyama well in the stretch of time that fills the drive back. He’s too drunk to notice Mine is any different now either, somehow thinking he’s always this way. Receptive—? Other words to describe how he’s looked at currently don’t come, but he doesn’t mind it. He finds an empty spot in the complex’s key locked lot and parks. Like his way of vomiting before, the method to driving and getting himself home is also alarmingly well practiced. He doubts Mine is paying attention.
After taking the elevator up to the 6th floor, Mine’s car keys are returned to him, dropped in the dish of an open palm. ]
Yours.
[ Not his. He knows this much when he battles the lock of his own place. The newer building still proves to give the blade of his house key a hard time. He doesn’t know how to unlock it for a minute and he twists it a few times before it finally gives and the almost dreadfully empty apartment reveals its under furnished state to Mine once more. Mine, who isn’t a stranger anymore. He hasn’t given reason for Nishikiyama to wedge his pistol against his temple since.
He abandons his shoes and jacket at the door. Sighing loudly, he whirls to face his guest and look him up and down with the same look that’d been present there in the bathroom mirror before. ]
We’re alone again. [ He says.
His eyes fix on Mine’s throat, on its sculpt and prominence. It’s so much more handsome than anyone else’s, like the neck of a stallion or something. When Nishikiyama blinks, he finds he’s stepped closer to Mine than he’d been. ]
[ It's strange to think how the ambiance in his car had transformed—if Mine could at all, just now—from needing to openly declare his desire and at the same time wanting Nishikiyama's response. To now leaving static between them, the air is infused with booze and first warm smoke. It's only been a few hours. Mine looks out the window, realizes that the scenery has come to a standstill, there are other parked cars either side.
He vaguely remembers the walk from the lot up to Nishikiyama's apartment. Tainted by the threat to his life moments later, though, how else. The hairs on the back of his neck raise, even though Mine doesn't find time or clarity to recall. The unease dissipates as suddenly with his car keys in his hand, a distracting change physically.
Blearily, Mine notes the other man's struggle trying to get into his home, again telling him he shouldn't have been driving them. A thought that, similarly, fades when the door opens. It should be even more vivid now, but Mine's spared from remembering the gun to his head a second time. He leaves his shoes in the entryway, somewhat neatly, and his jacket somewhere hanging.
Mine swallows, his adam's apple bobs in his throat.
Having stepped up he meets Nishikiyama's look directly and not in the mirror– he's recalling it, it concluding their rendezvous in the restroom. Like the drive, it feels like he'd attended it as a passenger. ]
Mhm. [ Nishikiyama stands closer, sooner. ]
I wanted this. [ Answer to his earlier; what Mine'd meant first, what the other'd offered then.
His lips part, reminded of the prospect of their encounter. Mine leans in, letting poor balance take him until he needs a hand on Nishikiyama's shoulder. He'll kiss him now; the flavor of Nishikiyama's own hi-lite lays over the mint. ]
[ Nishikiyama's heel thuds against the ledge of the genkan when Mine kisses him. His own balance sways when the other man's hand finds him. As he stumbles, he catches the handle of his front door with his fingertips and pulls it shut with a click, only later to catch himself on a wall nearby. Eyes flutter shut, but his vision seems to come and go regardless.
Sandwiched there between it and Mine, his laughter stops against the other man's mouth and he instead receives the taste of smoke and mint properly. If he were sober enough to care, he'd feel a little ashamed of how he kisses Mine now— he's far too receptive, too sloppy, and too wet. How he's kissing is exactly how he'd lectured Kiryu not to kiss women in the past during his teenage years, when he'd reared his head and lied about his own experiences. He'd dug himself deeper every time and hadn't known if Kiryu could tell he was bluffing.
Nishikiyama grabs the front of Mine's shirt and pushes it upward. It's strange to see it wrinkle when he surfaces Mine's columns of abs, but he won't be looking long enough to observe. He's motivated now by only his most instinctive desires. He just wants Mine again: somehow, some way. He's still poorly researched without an idea of how to act. With a drunk smirk on his face, he breaks away from a regrettably messy lip lock and starts plucking Mine's shirt buttons apart. It's stupid how coyly he plays the act, his eyes downcast and lips curled. Mystery is spice though and he poorly "conceals" his own want by not answering Mine verbally, caught there in the shadow of his figure, oh so conveniently trapped against the wall. His thoughts go places. ]
[ A twitch is placed just underneath Mine's skin as the knuckles of Nishikiyama's hand brush against his abs. The light from the doorway, wedged between, then sinks into the ridges but lets the margin of his ribs disappear in shadow under his shirt. Anticipation creeps into Mine's breath, such that it echoes in the kiss. He doesn't care, if Nishikiyama thinks of himself as too eager. Where he's receptive, Mine feels generous, sloppy and wet when he's just as hasty. He wouldn't have called the bluff either, a youth spent differently, and now there's no need for Mine to play a certain way when he's rich. Wasted and honest.
When Nishikiyama pulls away, he loses a point of anchor. Mine tries to find focus with the patriarch's hands unpicking the buttons of his shirt. One, two or three, he tugs lose his own tie before they get in the way of each other across his chest. His own want swells within, same as Nishikiyama's. Mine reads his coy response at an angle, from slightly up down. There he finds between the lines words that Nishikiyama hasn't and doesn't yet say– to spell out the details of their new relationship.
Heat creeps beneath his collar, more than the flush of drinking. Mine props himself against the wall on his other hand when he feels himself getting unsteady, next to Nishikiyama's head. He cages him in, close outside of a kiss. Mine's hand lifts from Nishikiyama's shoulder instead gripping, clumsily, the knot of his tie and pulls. Mine works more easily from the top down. ]
[ Nishikiyama slides against the wall without the support on his shoulder. Where an arm moves to cage him, he begins to ease and tuck himself back to close the space. He hardly realizes that Mine is undressing him at the same time— the tie at his neck suddenly harder to undo, annoying to pull from beneath his collar. He thinks blearily of what they can do in the hallway, but he's too drunk to be creative. He figures there's not much; getting on his knees now might make him puke again, and that would ruin what's happening now. He rustles out of his shirt similarly. The two of them begin to wander closer and closer to the bedroom when Nishikiyama resists where he'd been formerly pinned because standing isn't good. Not when neither of them don't want to.
Beside the mattress, Nishikiyama sponges in the erotic span of muscle and skin in front of him. He bites his own lip. And something he realizes is— ]
You look good.
[ Like, all of the time and in ways that Nishikiyama hadn't noticed of others. Maybe his head had simply been filled with the clutter of yakuza. Of collections, patriarchs, and politics. But now, the lust he feels at the moment is almost overwhelming. With his tongue on his teeth, he shoves Mine back onto his bedsheets, aware enough that he'll fall. Then he follows— closes in on top of him and unworks both of their pants. Uninhibited, it feels like they're in a pornography only that neither of them are acting. Whatever, though.
Nishikiyama touches Mine's dark brown hair, his fingers combing through the shorter pieces and seeing them come loose. ]
[ Stepping over clothes that'll be there as a trail left till morning, Mine enters a room he knows, even drunk, he didn't visit last time. He looks at it—a blurry corner of the eye-view—sparingly furnished to match the rest of the apartment. It might be hard to get into sensuality there if they weren't already going. And going fast, Mine only realizes that he's still lightheaded when he stops moving. Keeping Nishikiyama as his focus helps; Mine sees him suck in his bottom lip between his teeth. Desiring, erotic–
The silence he'd left deliberately, not really of inaction or apprehension, but still placing Mine with an absence, is filled by his answer now. Short as it may be, Mine seeing his body under scrutiny, he likes knowing that Nishikiyama looks at him physically.
His push is quicker than gravity and Mine finds himself on his back. The other on top of him, hands by his belt, he lifts his hips to let his pants be pulled down over his ass. The same stance prompts touch: Mine's front rubs against Nishikiyama's. He can't tell if it gets him hard any, though, Mine blinks, or it's more that his eyelids flutter when Nishikiyama combs his hand through his hair. Much lower, Mine's fingertips have just pushed under the waistband of the man's underwear (he can't see if Nishikiyama's changed out of them from before).
Meeting dark eyes, Mine doubts he needs to gulp his heart back down, but feels it hammering high in his throat. He opens his mouth, swallows again, finally like remnants of their kiss were there. The loose hair tugs on his scalp differently. Whatever they'll do, though. He echoes. ]
Hey.
[ Out of its pause Mine's hands slides down further. He finds humor from before, a smile twitching. What he says is so obvious that it's funny. ]
[ Mine says it straight. Nishikiyama laughs because it's said in such a way. His fingers trail the sides of Mine's face when he looks down, at the other's hands that have wandered lower on his hips, delving past his underwear. ]
Yeah, let's fuck.
[ Vulgar agreement comes without thinking because even while wasted, there's a part of him that has to one-up everyone else. He has to be the strongest, the baddest, and in this context, the dirtiest. It's nonsense that stems from his self-worth, an emotional autopsy he's yet to cut open and study should he ever. In this phrase, he feels he's the bolder of the two; the more dominant one. Not that it's a contest, or ever had been.
Freed of all garments, Nishikiyama curls forward and sucks tightly on a divot in Mine's throat. His kisses hardly keep a seal, poorly coordinated as he struggles to decide what he wants to do. As if his impulses are too quick for his mind, everything he does now lags as if treading through sludge. He finds his eyelids are heavier too. Unable to get hard, he pushes himself into Mine's hand without realizing why he can't. Two arms straighten while he supports himself, and he pulls away from a faint red stamp he's left on Mine's neck. ]
I want to. Come on.
[ Through some of his fallen bangs, Nishikiyama gazes into Mine's eyes with a smirk on his lips that sags. ]
[ Mine hears his own intent repeated, more crude, more exact. For a moment, he finds he's letting his cheek turn into Nishikiyama's touch, threatening lethargy if he can lean his head against his hand. Sooner instead gasping breath escapes him, Nishikiyama draws it up by sucking on his neck, unaware of the mark it'll leave.
Nishikiyama, staking his claim in a role Mine isn't yet sure of– it's not that it's unclear, what the other's position as senior to him in the yakuza, as patriarch of his own Family means. Mine has settled into his place within the structures of the organization, that he's still half of an outsider part of it. Or this is how he sees himself; there are layers that need cutting deeper, too. Mine's subservience is split between this and their new relationship.
He doesn't know what he can do—that may be his last, lucid thought tonight, arriving suddenly—lying bare on Nishikiyama's bed and not the hotel's. Can they just fuck like they did before? If not... His palm offers some resistance for Nishikiyama to grind against. Looking up, though, everything that Mine keeps in view seems to drag on slowly, similarly, and already softens at the edges. He takes his thumb along Nishikiyama's length, thinking it'll do something, when he thinks what the other says points at him.
Mine's starved focus tries to keep up with Nishikiyama moving on top of him; his stomach is empty from throwing up, and he's tired. ]
I'm trying. Here–
[ Hair falling into Nishikiyama's face, Mine can only just make out that his expression droops. He's a mirror. ]
[ He enjoys the touch and it feels good, but his senses are so numb and slowed that he knows, instinctively, it's not enough stimulation to fill him out. Why now? Why when they've decided they want to go ahead and get it out of the way? His smile fades to a frustrated expression of focus, and as Mine pleasures him, he shuts his eyes to try and soak up the physical sensation. A poor choice, considering. Once his lids are shut, it's hard to open them again. Still, he sucks in through his teeth— tries making some sounds to get both of them more into it.
He's so stubborn. Nishikiyama feels for Mine's cock and holds it in his palm, rubbing its base and stroking it from the root up with his fingertips. They're going to fuck tonight. He swivels the glans. ]
Come on...
[ Nishikiyama mutters it slurred. He and Mine are going to fuck tonight. They're going to... ]
[ 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. ]
[ Even at this hour, there's evidence in the bedroom that Nishikiyama had already been awake at some point— by the green bottle of anti-nausea supplement on the nightstand and half-finished Pocari Sweat. He'd already pondered the same thing around 4 in the morning but decided he hadn't cared enough to make a scene or wake Mine up to ask about it. On Nishikiyama's end of the bed, he's got some of the bedsheets wrapped around himself with a train tailing from his lower back. The fabric tugs across the surface of linen when he hears Mine stir. He's a fairly light sleeper these days.
His eyebrows twitch and his knees pull up some, but he doesn't want to open his eyes. He listens, though, studying how Mine will digest the scene placed around him. ]
[ Mine takes in those flakes of information slowly, when tension towards something that hadn't even happened releases him. There's another way it still might've gone; he ignores the prospect for now. When Nishikiyama stirs is when Mine realizes he wants to wake him less than he wants an answer. He puts his feet on the ground, weight on the bed shifting necessarily. No rug, no artwork on the walls; he remembers that the kitchen and living room match. Nishikiyama won't hear the conclusion of his judgment, only that Mine finally gets up, goes around the room to collect his own remnants. Whatever else the other infers from it, Mine's made the decision to leave quickly.
He doesn't feel good (yet) about digging through Nishikiyama's things, but by that way he finds pen and paper in some drawer in another room. Mine leaves his note on the same surface above: Good morning. Thank you for the invitation yesterday. To be found later. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
It's hard to say what they're even arguing about, but Mine finds slivers of defiance... For no good reason and definitely not to match his words, when he says he's sorry, insisting in essence. ]
No, I am.
[ A grunt, the revelation making him feel slow. His own mint's melted away under his tongue removing unpleasant aftertaste, so it's not an issue on his mind. A frown twitches on his brow; he's displeased, but whether with himself or with Nishikiyama for not being clear isn't possible to say. ]
You could've said so–
[ His argument to a lack of action. Even now. Then, Mine laughs suddenly. That one, that barely sounds like more than an itch in his throat, but the corner of his mouth pulls up obviously with it. He's realized something between them. ]
I'm really drunk too, you know.
no subject
[ Though Nishikiyama doesn't seem to realize he's being lumped in with the statement. Giving up on escape, he simply stands and stops protesting since Mine's refused to move. He doesn't think of the breath mint he'd asked for, instead focusing on what he can pick apart now. ]
I told you I wanted a mint already— I wasn't hiding it.
[ He steps away with no other space to fill, pressing his own back into the opposite end of the stall and frowning. He remains trapped near the toilet for as long as Mine doesn't clear an opening for an exit. ]
I'll drive the car back since you're too fucked up.
[ Nishikiyama's excuse now because, wasted or otherwise, he still wants to drive an expensive vehicle. ]
no subject
He turns to leave the stall with a sigh, more to be ascribed to him moving at all, rather than taking issue with what he's doing. Blurry vision still manages to focus on the box of mints left by the sink eventually. Mine holds it out in front of him. ]
Here– [ Then, after a few beats, his question. ] You'll drive?
[ He wants to go home, ditch this party that's gotten too loud– now that Mine's further out in the restroom again, he thinks he can hear the uproar Kanda has instigated. Displeasure for it shows on his face, in wrinkles around his mouth that's departed from his brief smile, and also that he's a little critical of the other man's proposal. ]
If you want to leave...
[ Mine knows that he's himself in no shape to, but it doesn't translate to asking Nishikiyama—who's in a like state—more seriously to reconsider. He's willing to hand over his keys to the yellow sports car parked in the next parking lot over, though. ]
no subject
Yeah, I want to. I'm tired of this place.
[ He watches Mine behind him through the mirror, a strange mood tucked beneath them but dissipating when he turns to leave the restroom. There are other things to tend to. He has to get rid of the others. His face scrunches in similar annoyance when he shoos them off and dismisses them, dissolving the yakiniku party in a single breath. After rolling the room shut, he proceeds in a wobbly line to the parking lot and receives Mine's car keys.
He can't help but smile. True nature there, there's a boyish excitement in his eyes when he makes his way near the driver's side and clicks the lock open with the button under his thumbnail. ]
—Hooo.
[ His figure falls into the seat and he eagerly adjusts the rearview mirror to suit it. His teeth click, impressed. ]
no subject
There's not much thought to spare for any of the other men when he turns his head to look at Nishikiyama. The sound he makes lets Mine be proud and a smirk touch one side of his mouth. It's his car he's admiring. ]
I worked hard for this.
[ Honest, dry truth while Mine's head swims in alcohol. Talking about work, about money, here, there's not a touch of bitterness. He leans his head against the champagne-white leather. ]
no subject
He finishes making adjustments, the only evidence of driving he’ll leave behind for a sober Mine tomorrow, and starts the Lamborghini. There’s a smooth hum of engine to follow, one that he knows and likes. The car is worth more than some of the guys left behind in the restaurant.
He backs out, tries to. Brakes stutter when he’s not in reverse. There’s a look on Nishikiyama’s face when he holds his hand up (he doesn’t want Mine’s commentary) and corrects the mistake. The steering wheel spins. He puts the vehicle in the proper gear and pulls out of the parking spot as originally intended. But then he parks in the middle of the lot.
Eyes moving from the rearview mirror to the console, he pokes at the buttons that make the most sense to try and start the radio. The windows on either side of both of them roll lower, and some Nishikiyama Family members now going home whistle and hoot through the gaps at them.
There’s something more pressing on his mind, though. Before he can let them onto the road, the lighter Mine thinks he’d lost is revealed to be in Nishikiyama’s possession. It licks the tip of a cigarette, and he blows a fat cloud of smoke out at some of his men before grinning and offering Mine the box of remainders. ]
For you.
no subject
Mine's eyes appear in a slit farther across through the driver side window. He turns his head the other way at the yowling outside. Nishikiyama is cocky in his new position and Mine likes lending that to him. He finds himself liking several things right now.
Shaking the cigarette box near him makes Mine turn away from the noise again, though. He leans forward and takes it, a glance up to where he sees Nishikiyama's already lit his and there's nothing else for him to do. ]
Thanks.
[ He hadn't been so casual before, not as the one driving them to the hotel. Briefly some reasonable thought appears, if he should smoke if he felt sick and that he didn't like the taste much... on its own. Mine twists one of the knobs at the console just to turn up the radio's volume, the station that gets picked up. Then he slumps back into the seat– eyes on his driver, so obvious.
He lights one between his lips. ]
no subject
After taking the elevator up to the 6th floor, Mine’s car keys are returned to him, dropped in the dish of an open palm. ]
Yours.
[ Not his. He knows this much when he battles the lock of his own place. The newer building still proves to give the blade of his house key a hard time. He doesn’t know how to unlock it for a minute and he twists it a few times before it finally gives and the almost dreadfully empty apartment reveals its under furnished state to Mine once more. Mine, who isn’t a stranger anymore. He hasn’t given reason for Nishikiyama to wedge his pistol against his temple since.
He abandons his shoes and jacket at the door. Sighing loudly, he whirls to face his guest and look him up and down with the same look that’d been present there in the bathroom mirror before. ]
We’re alone again. [ He says.
His eyes fix on Mine’s throat, on its sculpt and prominence. It’s so much more handsome than anyone else’s, like the neck of a stallion or something. When Nishikiyama blinks, he finds he’s stepped closer to Mine than he’d been. ]
no subject
He vaguely remembers the walk from the lot up to Nishikiyama's apartment. Tainted by the threat to his life moments later, though, how else. The hairs on the back of his neck raise, even though Mine doesn't find time or clarity to recall. The unease dissipates as suddenly with his car keys in his hand, a distracting change physically.
Blearily, Mine notes the other man's struggle trying to get into his home, again telling him he shouldn't have been driving them. A thought that, similarly, fades when the door opens. It should be even more vivid now, but Mine's spared from remembering the gun to his head a second time. He leaves his shoes in the entryway, somewhat neatly, and his jacket somewhere hanging.
Mine swallows, his adam's apple bobs in his throat.
Having stepped up he meets Nishikiyama's look directly and not in the mirror– he's recalling it, it concluding their rendezvous in the restroom. Like the drive, it feels like he'd attended it as a passenger. ]
Mhm. [ Nishikiyama stands closer, sooner. ]
I wanted this. [ Answer to his earlier; what Mine'd meant first, what the other'd offered then.
His lips part, reminded of the prospect of their encounter. Mine leans in, letting poor balance take him until he needs a hand on Nishikiyama's shoulder. He'll kiss him now; the flavor of Nishikiyama's own hi-lite lays over the mint. ]
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Sandwiched there between it and Mine, his laughter stops against the other man's mouth and he instead receives the taste of smoke and mint properly. If he were sober enough to care, he'd feel a little ashamed of how he kisses Mine now— he's far too receptive, too sloppy, and too wet. How he's kissing is exactly how he'd lectured Kiryu not to kiss women in the past during his teenage years, when he'd reared his head and lied about his own experiences. He'd dug himself deeper every time and hadn't known if Kiryu could tell he was bluffing.
Nishikiyama grabs the front of Mine's shirt and pushes it upward. It's strange to see it wrinkle when he surfaces Mine's columns of abs, but he won't be looking long enough to observe. He's motivated now by only his most instinctive desires. He just wants Mine again: somehow, some way. He's still poorly researched without an idea of how to act. With a drunk smirk on his face, he breaks away from a regrettably messy lip lock and starts plucking Mine's shirt buttons apart. It's stupid how coyly he plays the act, his eyes downcast and lips curled. Mystery is spice though and he poorly "conceals" his own want by not answering Mine verbally, caught there in the shadow of his figure, oh so conveniently trapped against the wall. His thoughts go places. ]
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When Nishikiyama pulls away, he loses a point of anchor. Mine tries to find focus with the patriarch's hands unpicking the buttons of his shirt. One, two or three, he tugs lose his own tie before they get in the way of each other across his chest. His own want swells within, same as Nishikiyama's. Mine reads his coy response at an angle, from slightly up down. There he finds between the lines words that Nishikiyama hasn't and doesn't yet say– to spell out the details of their new relationship.
Heat creeps beneath his collar, more than the flush of drinking. Mine props himself against the wall on his other hand when he feels himself getting unsteady, next to Nishikiyama's head. He cages him in, close outside of a kiss. Mine's hand lifts from Nishikiyama's shoulder instead gripping, clumsily, the knot of his tie and pulls. Mine works more easily from the top down. ]
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Beside the mattress, Nishikiyama sponges in the erotic span of muscle and skin in front of him. He bites his own lip. And something he realizes is— ]
You look good.
[ Like, all of the time and in ways that Nishikiyama hadn't noticed of others. Maybe his head had simply been filled with the clutter of yakuza. Of collections, patriarchs, and politics. But now, the lust he feels at the moment is almost overwhelming. With his tongue on his teeth, he shoves Mine back onto his bedsheets, aware enough that he'll fall. Then he follows— closes in on top of him and unworks both of their pants. Uninhibited, it feels like they're in a pornography only that neither of them are acting. Whatever, though.
Nishikiyama touches Mine's dark brown hair, his fingers combing through the shorter pieces and seeing them come loose. ]
Hey.
[ Whatever, though. He wants him so badly. ]
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The silence he'd left deliberately, not really of inaction or apprehension, but still placing Mine with an absence, is filled by his answer now. Short as it may be, Mine seeing his body under scrutiny, he likes knowing that Nishikiyama looks at him physically.
His push is quicker than gravity and Mine finds himself on his back. The other on top of him, hands by his belt, he lifts his hips to let his pants be pulled down over his ass. The same stance prompts touch: Mine's front rubs against Nishikiyama's. He can't tell if it gets him hard any, though, Mine blinks, or it's more that his eyelids flutter when Nishikiyama combs his hand through his hair. Much lower, Mine's fingertips have just pushed under the waistband of the man's underwear (he can't see if Nishikiyama's changed out of them from before).
Meeting dark eyes, Mine doubts he needs to gulp his heart back down, but feels it hammering high in his throat. He opens his mouth, swallows again, finally like remnants of their kiss were there. The loose hair tugs on his scalp differently. Whatever they'll do, though. He echoes. ]
Hey.
[ Out of its pause Mine's hands slides down further. He finds humor from before, a smile twitching. What he says is so obvious that it's funny. ]
Let's have sex.
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Yeah, let's fuck.
[ Vulgar agreement comes without thinking because even while wasted, there's a part of him that has to one-up everyone else. He has to be the strongest, the baddest, and in this context, the dirtiest. It's nonsense that stems from his self-worth, an emotional autopsy he's yet to cut open and study should he ever. In this phrase, he feels he's the bolder of the two; the more dominant one. Not that it's a contest, or ever had been.
Freed of all garments, Nishikiyama curls forward and sucks tightly on a divot in Mine's throat. His kisses hardly keep a seal, poorly coordinated as he struggles to decide what he wants to do. As if his impulses are too quick for his mind, everything he does now lags as if treading through sludge. He finds his eyelids are heavier too. Unable to get hard, he pushes himself into Mine's hand without realizing why he can't. Two arms straighten while he supports himself, and he pulls away from a faint red stamp he's left on Mine's neck. ]
I want to. Come on.
[ Through some of his fallen bangs, Nishikiyama gazes into Mine's eyes with a smirk on his lips that sags. ]
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Nishikiyama, staking his claim in a role Mine isn't yet sure of– it's not that it's unclear, what the other's position as senior to him in the yakuza, as patriarch of his own Family means. Mine has settled into his place within the structures of the organization, that he's still half of an outsider part of it. Or this is how he sees himself; there are layers that need cutting deeper, too. Mine's subservience is split between this and their new relationship.
He doesn't know what he can do—that may be his last, lucid thought tonight, arriving suddenly—lying bare on Nishikiyama's bed and not the hotel's. Can they just fuck like they did before? If not... His palm offers some resistance for Nishikiyama to grind against. Looking up, though, everything that Mine keeps in view seems to drag on slowly, similarly, and already softens at the edges. He takes his thumb along Nishikiyama's length, thinking it'll do something, when he thinks what the other says points at him.
Mine's starved focus tries to keep up with Nishikiyama moving on top of him; his stomach is empty from throwing up, and he's tired. ]
I'm trying. Here–
[ Hair falling into Nishikiyama's face, Mine can only just make out that his expression droops. He's a mirror. ]
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[ He enjoys the touch and it feels good, but his senses are so numb and slowed that he knows, instinctively, it's not enough stimulation to fill him out. Why now? Why when they've decided they want to go ahead and get it out of the way? His smile fades to a frustrated expression of focus, and as Mine pleasures him, he shuts his eyes to try and soak up the physical sensation. A poor choice, considering. Once his lids are shut, it's hard to open them again. Still, he sucks in through his teeth— tries making some sounds to get both of them more into it.
He's so stubborn. Nishikiyama feels for Mine's cock and holds it in his palm, rubbing its base and stroking it from the root up with his fingertips. They're going to fuck tonight. He swivels the glans. ]
Come on...
[ Nishikiyama mutters it slurred. He and Mine are going to fuck tonight. They're going to... ]
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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. ]
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His eyebrows twitch and his knees pull up some, but he doesn't want to open his eyes. He listens, though, studying how Mine will digest the scene placed around him. ]
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He doesn't feel good
(yet)about digging through Nishikiyama's things, but by that way he finds pen and paper in some drawer in another room. Mine leaves his note on the same surface above: Good morning. Thank you for the invitation yesterday. To be found later. ]