Rating/Warnings: R to NC-17 thanks to Fujigaya
Summary: After Kouhaku, Countdown, and CDTV, Kis-My-Ft2 have their own New Year's celebration at Senga's apartment.
AN: New Year's cuddlepile! Which...turned out not so much like cuddling lol. But I did feel totally bad for these guys when watching CDTV and Nika nearly broke his neck trying to do one of his usual backflips. They must have been exhausted! I hope they really did get some sleep after all of that.
Ringing in the New Year
All of them are shattered by the time they stumble into Senga’s apartment, eyes bleary and limbs heavy. The sun’s coming up but none of them are interested in that, or in anything besides getting horizontal as quickly as possible.
And not in the fun way.
“Remember when the only thing we had to do after Countdown was make out with senpai?” Fujigaya says, voice raspy. He’s got one boot off but can’t seem to work the other one, and he nearly topples over when Yokoo bops him lightly on the head.
“You wished for all this,” he reminds, struggling to help Miyata drag a useless Tamamori the whole way inside.
Behind them, Kitayama isn’t doing much better, but Senga only hollers back at him to lock the door behind them as he pushes Nikaido down onto the pile of cushions and blankets they’d been sprawled on in front of the television before they’d left for work. It feels like three days ago instead of not even one, Senga thinks as he scrubs at his face.
Nikaido, flopped onto his back, holds out his arms silently, because he’s lost his voice as of half an hour ago. Senga drops to his knees and crawls into Nikaido’s arms, sighing with relief as his cheek hits Nikaido’s shoulder and he can let his eyes fall shut.
There’s a whump on Nikaido’s other side, and Senga cracks one eye open to find Tamamori sprawled against Nikaido’s shoulder facing Senga. His eyes are closed but his cheeks are bright pink, and Senga hopes vaguely he won’t come down with a cold from over-exertion. Over Tamamori’s shoulder, Miyata and Yokoo are swaying on their feet, but they go to strip the blankets off of Senga’s bed and tug out the spare futons anyway.
“That’s why I love you guys,” Senga says, even though they probably can’t hear him. A heavy weight lands against Senga’s back that he’d know anywhere. “Mm, happy new year. Take care of us this year too, Leader~.”
“You brat.” Kitayama winds an arm around Senga’s waist and curls up tightly along his back, forehead pressing against the top of Senga’s spine. His breathing evens out almost immediately, and Senga passes out right after, lulled by the harmony of Kitayama’s breathing and Nikaido’s heartbeat.
When he wakes up some hours later, his head is pounding and he needs to pee desperately, badly enough that he nearly doesn’t make it by the time he manages to untangle all his limbs from his bandmates’. He doesn’t bother re-zipping his jeans, kicking them into a heap on the bathroom floor before stumbling back towards his warm spot.
Senga whines when he sees that Kitayama has already rolled into it, taking over his space and cuddling Nikaido possessively as a body pillow. Nikaido snores on, that traitor, totally oblivious.
“Room over here?” a voice offers, and Senga turns to find Yokoo holding up an edge of the blanket that he’s sharing with Fujigaya. They’re on a futon properly, no doubt thanks to Yokoo, and Senga gladly takes him up on the offer. Yokoo chuckles when Senga works his way in between Yokoo and Fujigaya instead of taking the end.
“Thanks,” Senga says, wrapping arms around Yokoo’s neck and snuggling close. He leans up for a kiss, expecting Yokoo to push him off when it lasts longer than a second since they are in a big pile of their bandmates and everyone else is sleeping. To his delight, though, Yokoo’s exhaustion seems to have broken down his usual inhibitions, and he lets Senga kiss him until they’re rubbing steadily against each other. Senga can feel how hard Yokoo is starting to get without the barrier of his jeans. “Mm, Watta, don’t make me stop.”
“Wasn’t going to,” Yokoo murmurs, hands sliding down Senga’s back to his ass, pushing their hips together more pointedly.
“Seriously?” Fujigaya groans from behind Senga’s back. Senga breaks the kiss to wink at Yokoo, and then rolls over to face Fujigaya, his ass tucked firmly against Yokoo’s groin. Yokoo’s rocking never misses a beat.
“We could help you out too if you wanted,” Senga offers. Fujigaya glares at him, but Senga thinks that’s hot really, and he tugs Fujigaya over the few centimeters by his T-shirt so that he can kiss him. He licks at Fujigaya’s lips before waiting for him to respond, and is already sucking on his tongue when Yokoo’s hand slips into Senga’s boxers and draws his cock out. Fujigaya grunts, eyes glued to Yokoo’s hand fisted around Senga’s length, stroking him slowly.
“Get his out too,” Yokoo suggests in Senga’s ear, his ‘whisper’ loud enough that Fujigaya can certainly hear it. “I want to get you off at the same time.”
“Yeah,” Senga agrees without hesitation, fingers clumsy but eager against the zipper of Fujigaya’s jeans. When he gets his hand around Fujigaya, Fujigaya whines and pushes his hips into the touch, despite his otherwise lack of cooperation. Senga has to tug with both hands to get Fujigaya to slide close enough for Yokoo to wrap his hand around both of them, but it’s so, so worth it when he does.
“Watta,” Fujigaya groans, head tipping back out of kissing reach. Senga leans forward to nip and lick at Fujigaya’s neck instead, making Fujigaya groan and snap his hips harder.
“Does he feel good against you?” Yokoo asks Senga, so hard against Senga’s ass that rocking back feels just as good as rocking forward. Senga moans agreement, exhaustion making everything more intense against his skin. “Mm, I wonder how I should have you make this favor up to me...”
Senga whimpers, imagining a few of the possibilities himself, and then cries out as he spills over Yokoo’s hand and Fujigaya’s cock. Yokoo’s arms squeeze tighter around him as he shivers himself out and Senga sighs happily.
Fujigaya isn’t nearly so amused. “Kento, what the fuck?”
“Sorry,” Senga giggles, high on everything. “I can--”
“My turn first, sorry, Taisuke,” Yokoo interrupts, making Senga shiver at the possession in Yokoo’s voice, and Fujigaya scrunches his face in displeasure. “Plenty of playmates behind you. And you can start with this.” Yokoo lifts his hand to Senga’s mouth, obviously meaning for him to clean up his own mess for once. Senga sucks two of Yokoo’s fingers into his mouth without hesitation, both of them groaning.
“Fuck both of you,” Fujigaya growls, shoving his jeans out of the way so they don’t end up as a casualty as well. He rolls over and the nearest person is Tamamori, sprawled on his back next to Nikaido still, having relaxed out of his curl against Nikaido’s shoulder. He gives Tamamori a shove. “Tama, wake up.”
“Nngh,” Tamamori grunts, unmoving. Fujigaya sneaks a hand up Tamamori’s shirt and pinches a nipple; Tamamori’s body leans into the touch, but he’s still dead to the world. Trailing fingers down his bare stomach gets a similar favorable response.
“I can work with that,” Fujigaya says, not picky, and it isn’t like Tamamori would actually protest even if he were awake. He sits up enough to strip Tamamori’s pants and underwear off, cursing as his head spins a little from the sudden movement. He drags fingers lightly up Tamamori’s bare thighs and down between them, and Tamamori’s cock twitches before Fujigaya’s touch gets anywhere near it. When he does finally wrap his hand around it, Tamamori’s cock looks so good sliding through his fingers that Fujigaya thinks idly about riding Tamamori instead of fucking him.
Besides, topping is so much effort, and he’s really fucking tired.
“Wake him up with your mouth and he’ll totally let you fuck him,” says a gruff voice behind him. Fujigaya turns to find Miyata curled up on his side on the other futon, by himself since everybody was already in their respective piles. His hair is sleep-mussed and eyes half-shut, but he’s clearly watching Fujigaya molest Tamamori. The blanket is half thrown off him, and Miyata has his own cock in his hand, stroking himself in time with Fujigaya’s hand on Tamamori.
Fujigaya almost answers that he hadn’t intended to ask Tamamori’s permission, then realizes that sounds a bit too questionable even for them and settles for just giving a pointed glance to Miyata’s cock in his hand. Miyata shivers happily, that great big M, and Fujigaya clicks his tongue and turns back to Tamamori. It’s only because he wants to lie down, he tells himself as he stretches out on his stomach and licks at Tamamori’s tip.
“Mmm?” Tamamori stirs when Fujigaya starts sucking him off, but it’s a long minute or two until Tamamori’s hand pats Fujigaya’s head clumsily. “Gaya?”
Fujigaya lifts his head to meet Tamamori’s confused gaze, letting Tamamori’s cock slip out of his mouth. “Let me fuck you. Miyacchi wants to watch.”
“Mi’chi?” Tamamori’s voice is slurred cutely, and he tosses his head to one side and then the other before he locates Miyata. He picks his head up with what looks like a lot of effort, squinting. “Why’re y’over there?”
“I just said, he wants to watch,” Fujigaya interrupts Miyata’s answer, and Miyata closes his mouth and just grins. “I’m not enough for you?”
Tamamori lets his head flop back down, yawning. “Whatever. If you want.” He cants his hips up a little, but that’s as much help as he offers, not that Fujigaya was expecting any better. In fact Tamamori gets immediately distracted by Yokoo and Senga to the side. “Mmm, yeah.”
Fujigaya glances to the side, where Yokoo is rocking up into Senga’s mouth. Senga’s blowjob is messy and all for show, licking at Yokoo’s tip and teasing at his shaft, but Yokoo doesn’t seem to mind. Tamamori doesn’t either, if the way he pushes down against Fujigaya’s hands is any indication.
Senga’s tube of lubricant is sitting right on the coffee table, because Senga and Nikaido have all the subtlety of Takizawa’s birthday presents, but at least it’s easy to grab. As much as Fujigaya doesn’t enjoy Tamamori’s fragmented attention span, what he does enjoy is the way Tamamori squeezes tight around his fingers almost immediately, how easily he opens up for Fujigaya, how good Tamamori looks willing and loose-limbed underneath him. Behind Fujigaya, Miyata is making soft, pleased noises, and Fujigaya is surprised that Miyata hasn’t shouldered him aside to help out already.
When he glances over his shoulder, Miyata’s wide, dark eyes make his breath catch. The blanket is long gone and Miyata cock is hard and leaking in his hand, a side of Miyata that’s so much more appealing than Fujigaya will ever admit out loud.
“He’s ready,” Miyata says, unnecessarily but it sounds hot, when he catches Fujigaya looking. “Fuck him, Taipi. Make him scream for you.”
“In what universe do I take orders from you,” Fujigaya grumbles, but he’s already pulling his fingers free from Tamamori and fumbling for a condom, also on the coffee table.
“You can take more than that, you tease,” Yokoo tells Senga, voice stern. “Ahhh, there you go. Just like that, mmhmm.”
“Gayaaa,” Tamamori whines when Fujigaya starts pushing in, but he spreads his legs wider so it must be the good kind of whine. Fujigaya pushes Tamamori’s legs up, over his shoulders, and bears down harder, until their thighs press together. “More,” Tamamori demands, shifting restlessly, and Fujigaya is happy to oblige.
He’s not trying to win a medal in the endurance olympics, so Fujigaya fucks Tamamori hard and fast. Hard enough that Tamamori starts to slide a little on the floor and ends up jostling Nikaido’s shoulder.
“Wha?” Nikaido asks blearily, stirring. He squints, useless without his contacts or glasses, and can’t even sit up because Kitayama is weighing down his other side, still dead to the world. “Fuck, seriously?”
“Pretty seriously,” Fujigaya grunts, not even pausing but grinning when Nikaido’s face scrunches up. Tamamori only moans, flushed an adorable pink the whole way down his chest.
“Ugh, is Miyacchi doing what I think he is? Gross. Where’s Kenpi?” Nikaido demands, shoving Kitayama off enough to sit up, but he relaxes visibly when he recognizes Senga’s shape on Fujigaya and Tamamori’s other side.
“He’s busy,” Yokoo informs Nikaido, although his voice is distracted. “Mm, Ken-chan, gonna...” Yokoo’s words cut off in a soft, low moan that makes the hair on the back of Fujigaya’s neck rise, and Yokoo has everyone’s attention, except Kitayama’s, when he arches his back and comes in Senga’s mouth.
Senga licks Yokoo clean, grinning like he’s totally pleased with himself as he lets Yokoo’s cock slip out of his mouth and rubs his cheek against Yokoo’s hip. “Hmm. Nika, you’re up! Good morning~.”
“Don’t good morning me like you didn’t even wake me up before you left to suck off other members,” Nikaido grouses, as if he hadn’t had his eyes glued to the whole thing. Fujigaya turns his attention back to fucking Tamamori, trying to ignore the lovers’ quarrel on either side of them, but Nikaido whines like a mosquito, so it’s difficult.
“You were all curled up with Tama and Kitamitsu!” Senga protests, pouting. “You let them take my spot!”
“I was sleeping!” Nikaido squirms as he thinks about Kitayama heavy against his side.
“Shut up, shut up,” Kitayama groans, the last to wake up and apparently not finding Nikaido’s loud voice any more ignorable than Fujigaya does. “What the fuck are you people--well, of course,” Kitayama interrupts himself, figuring it out with only one eye cracked. “You,” he growls at Nikaido, and Nikaido yelps as he’s pushed down onto his back and finds an irritated and sleep-mussed Kitayama looming over top of him.
“They started it,” Nikaido tries weakly, but it only gets him a fiercer glare.
“You know the rules,” Kitayama says, voice silky, making Nikaido shiver. “You wake up Leader, you pay the toll.”
“You aren’t--” Nikaido starts, then Kitayama’s mouth is crushed against his, stealing all his breath.
“Yeah,” Tamamori breathes, pushing up against Fujigaya desperately, eyes glued to Kitayama taking full advantage of a struggling Nikaido. “C’mon, touch me, Gaya, please?”
“Do it yourself,” Fujigaya growls, busy chasing his own release, like his hands right where they are, holding Tamamori’s hips up at the most pleasing angle.
“Gayaaaaa,” Tamamori whines, squirming, cock hard enough that it’s curled up against his stomach, bouncing with Fujigaya’s thrusts. He tosses his head over to the side and pouts at Yokoo and Senga instead, just since they’re closest. “Pleeease? I want to come already, please?”
“But you look so good like that,” Yokoo purrs, totally content with the way all of them are laid out in front of him.
“Watta, don’t be like that, you got what you wanted,” Senga scolds, giving Yokoo’s side a pinch before rolling off of him and closer to Tamamori. “I’ve got you, Tama, don’t worry.”
“Ken-chan~,” Tamamori sighs in relief as Senga curls up along his side, kissing Senga’s cheek when it’s in easy reach. Confident in Senga’s word, Tamamori turns his head back to Nikaido and Kitayama.
“They look so good, right?” Senga murmurs in Tamamori’s ear as he wraps a hand around Tamamori’s cock. He chuckles. “Your tip’s all wet so you must think so too. Not that I like to share so much, but when Leader fucks him it’s the hottest thing, you know?”
Tamamori groans as he starts to lose it, coming over Senga’s hand and squeezing tight around Fujigaya. Fujigaya’s breathing gets harsher as he fucks Tamamori through the sudden tightness, then comes himself only a few seconds later, already too close to his limit to hold back.
“Mm, you’re welcome,” Senga says to both of them. Tamamori only grunts when Fujigaya collapses on his chest, neither one of them with enough air in their lungs to even complain that the other is all gross. “Damn, now I’m hard again.” Senga looks over his shoulder at the only person still just watching. “Hey, Miyacchi, you’ll help out, right?”
He starts crawling towards Miyata without waiting for an answer, but Miyata doesn’t refuse him when he crawls right into Miyata’s lap and turns his face up for a sweet kiss.
“There is no way I’m expending the energy to fuck you,” Kitayama informs Nikaido. “No matter how desperate for my dick you are.”
“Go fuck yourself,” Nikaido growls, hair mussed and lips puffing up, shirt shoved up enough for Kitayama to thumb at his nipples. Kitayama only chuckles at him, knowing the scowl is only half at the suggestion that Kitayama might fuck him, and half at his announcement that he won’t.
“Want my mouth instead?” Kitayama asks, voice silky and coaxing. “Ask nicely.”
Nikaido clears his throat and looks away, cheeks going pink. “Suck me off.”
“Nicely.” Kitayama uses two fingers to draw a slow line down the center of Nikaido’s chest, making him choke back a whimper.
“Please suck me off?” Nikaido puts a bit of pout into it, looking at at Kitayama through his eyelashes. “Please.”
“Good enough.” Kitayama gives Nikaido a heated grin before sliding down, tugging Nikaido’s track pants down with him. Nikaido’s already mostly hard from the making out when he springs free, and Kitayama gives him a couple firm, tight strokes just to make him squirm.
“Kitamitsu,” Nikaido groans when Kitayama licks at his tip and then swallows him whole. His hands come up to tug at Kitayama’s hair, and Kitayama hums his approval, eyes falling half-shut.
“Shit,” Miyata breathes, shifting Senga more to the side so that they can both see. Senga reaches down to pull Miyata’s hand off of his cock and move it to his own, and then stroking Miyata in return. “Mm, that’s good.”
“Miyacchi feels good too,” Senga says, leaning his cheek against Miyata’s shoulder. It’s true, Miyata’s cock hard and hot and big in Senga’s hand, but most of his attention is absorbed by the soft, wet noises of Kitayama’s mouth and the way Nikaido is rolling his hips up into it. Beside them, Fujigaya is already dozing again but Tamamori is watching, and Yokoo too, their eyes heavy-lidded but glittering with interest. “Next time, when we aren’t so tired, we should play, okay? The two of us.” He gives Miyata’s cock a squeeze. “This would feel so good inside me, you’d make me feel so good.”
“Getting close,” Miyata warns, voice strained, and it’s no wonder since he’s been awake nearly as long as Senga but hasn’t come yet. Senga tears his attention away from Kitayama and Nikaido to look down at Miyata’s cock between his fingers, giving Miyata his full attention.
“Go ahead,” he encourages, thumbing Miyata’s head and smearing the wetness around. “I want to see you lose it, definitely.”
“Ken-chan,” Miyata murmurs, and then he gives in and comes, thighs shaking and hips snapping up into Senga’s hand. Senga strokes him through it, murmuring praise and soothing things, and then lifts his hand to lick a streak of white off the back of it.
“Mm, Miyacchi comes a lot,” he comments, and Miyata laughs shakily and tugs Senga more squarely back into his lap, wrapping arms around his waist and snuggling against him from behind. He’s still trembling a little, but it feels good to Senga, and soon enough Miyata has his strong, warm hands back on Senga’s cock, where Senga wants them.
Nikaido is moaning a steady stream of “yeah” and “oh” and pieces of Kitayama’s name, and aside from the sight of him arching and begging for it, the sound of his voice is going right to Senga’s cock, making it twitch in Miyata’s hands. Senga wishes he were close enough to touch Nikaido, but is definitely not moving from where he is, so he has to settle for talking himself.
“Are you close, Nika?” he calls over. Nikaido moans something vague, but thrusts up at the sound of Senga’s voice. Kitayama growls low in his throat and pushes down on Nikaido’s hips to hold him still. “Mitsu’s mouth feels so good, right? I’d ask to trade, but damn, you look so hot underneath him, just begging for it, losing control.”
“I love it when you talk like that,” Miyata purrs in Senga’s ear, tugging at Senga’s earring a little with his teeth, and maybe Senga doesn’t like that nearly as much as Tamamori does, but it still makes Senga push up harder into Miyata’s grip.
“I’m gonna come,” Senga announces breathlessly, and even though he wants to watch, he can’t keep his eyes open. “Nika, you should totally come with me, okay? Come on, come for Mitsu and me.”
He hears Nikaido’s sharp whine just before he tumbles over the edge himself. Miyata holds him tighter, murmuring praise at him while he pets Senga’s skin, and Senga comes down feeling safe and taken care of.
“Miyacchi’s the best,” Senga sighs happily, turning his head enough to nuzzle Miyata’s neck and shoulder. “Don’t play by yourself so much next time, okay? You should get attention too.”
“I’m happy enough,” Miyata assures, but he squeezes Senga tightly with his strong arms in thanks. “Hey, don’t miss it though, look.”
Senga turns his head just in time to see Kitayama straddling Nikaido’s chest, Nikaido still too disoriented to put up a fight when Kitayama strokes himself off with a groan and comes all over Nikaido’s face and throat.
“Fuck you, seriously,” Nikaido whines, arms trapped so he can’t even wipe at the mess right away, only squirm. Kitayama eyes his handiwork smugly as he stretches his arms over his head, humming in satisfaction.
“Where’s Taisuke’s phone when you need it,” Yokoo comments from the side. “I’d make that my wallpaper for sure.” Nikaido curses and starts struggling harder, but lucky for him Fujigaya is still dozing on top of Tamamori, oblivious to the photo opportunities he’s missing.
“I’m sure there’ll be other opportunities,” Kitayama says, sliding down to kiss Nikaido, hot and quick, his come still on Nikaido’s lips and everything. “Mm, you taste just as good as you look.”
Nikaido squawks and calls Kitayama a string of curse words, making Kitayama chuckle as he rolls off and snuggles up next to Tamamori to poach his and Fujigaya’s heat shamelessly.
“Unless you want more of the same, I wouldn’t wake me up again,” he warns, yawning. He gives Nikaido a wink before his eyes slip shut. “The price of the toll increases each time.”
Nikaido sits up and scrubs at his face with his shirt, still grumbling curses. He strips his dirtied shirt off and tosses it aside, then whines plaintively that it’s cold.
“Come over here,” Senga calls. He and Miyata have laid back down, snuggled together comfortably under Miyata’s blanket. Senga giggles when Nikaido squints myopically in their direction. “Over here, over here~.”
Like he’s using echolocation to pin down their position by Senga’s voice, Nikaido crawls towards them, grunting when he bangs his shoulder on the coffee table on the way by. Senga lifts the blanket to invite him in, and then rolls over him so that he’s tucked neatly in between Senga and Miyata, both of their overheated bodies warming Nikaido from either side.
“Missed a spot,” Senga says, then licks the tip of Nikaido’s nose. Nikaido gives him a fierce, ruffled look. “Shh, you like it. Mitsu doesn’t use his mouth on us very often, lucky.” When Nikaido’s tension doesn’t ease, Senga relents. “Want to take a bath?”
“No.” Nikaido relaxes at last, cheek pressing against Senga’s shoulder. “Want to stay right here.”
“When we wake up, then.” Senga presses a lingering kiss to Nikaido’s forehead, sleep tugging heavily on his eyelids. “Want to come too, Miyacchi?”
“Sounds nice,” Miyata sighs, mostly asleep already. His arm is thrown over both of their waists, his fingers brushing the small of Senga’s back as he goes entirely limp.
“Congratulations on the new year,” Senga says to any of them who happen to still be awake, if anybody is. “Let’s spend next year together too.”
He only gets snores in response, but Senga is satisfied with that as he lets his own heavy eyes close and snuggles just a bit closer to Nikaido, glad to feel all of their presences so near to him as they start a new year together.
Entry also posted at http://mousapelli.dreamwidth.org/844555.h