[ 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
Date: 2024-01-19 12:57 pm (UTC)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. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-01-19 03:16 pm (UTC)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. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-01-19 04:42 pm (UTC)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. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-01-19 10:22 pm (UTC)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.
no subject
Date: 2024-01-20 05:47 am (UTC)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. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-01-20 02:21 pm (UTC)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. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-01-20 03:38 pm (UTC)[ 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... ]
no subject
Date: 2024-01-21 01:20 am (UTC)Nh.
[ He also makes noise, to argue that he wants what they're trying. Mine watches Nishikiyama move with eyelids shut; he himself blinks slowly. He opens his eyes again, having the sense that only seconds have passed. Each one, though, really leads him away further till there's but Mine's final attempt to stay awake.
He drank too much. Mine knows; a new headache stays faint until he moves. Strands of his hair've come down over his forehead, and shuffling under the sheets—after getting up once, he's gotten under them—lets him know he's naked. Conscious thought begins here, before Mine skips to questions of where he is and why, he sees Nishikiyama's silhouette near him. He's turned away; they didn't sleep facing each other. This is where he throws anchor to orient himself. His body aches. His middle, actually. It's what startles him just after he's woken up relatively peacefully. Mine doesn't remember falling asleep despite that, even less what preceded it. Marbled by a desire that'd accompanied him into the evening, he jumps to that one immediately– Did they fuck?
Discomfort digs a hard knuckle beneath his belly button. Mine pulls his knee up, only far enough to roll onto his side. To see if it hurts. Doing it slowly makes him nervous. He's struck with dreaded uncertainty, with nausea—his hangover. But nothing else. 6:19. Mine tiredly reads the alarm clock on Nishikiyama's nightstand. He doubts that it'll go off any time soon. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-01-21 04:28 am (UTC)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. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-01-21 09:28 am (UTC)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. ]