Rating/Warnings: NC-17 for Senga's suggestions.
Summary: Senga's the only one who can't go to Coundown, and Nikaido makes it up to him.
AN: snowqueenofhoth is even more demanding than Senga, yo. TCHT, KOUHAI.
A Whole Countdown's Worth
“It’s not fair!” Senga whines, even his bleached bangs drooping sadly. “I want to go!”
“Maybe it’s not,” Nikaido rolls his eyes, “but there’s nothing you can do about it. Next year you’ll be old enough to work late, okay?”
“But I’m the only one who doesn’t get to go!”
“I don’t get to go to Countdown yet either, Senga-kun,” Hasshi pipes up when Senga just continues to pout, heedless of Yokoo and Tsukada’s subtle signs to shut his moronic mouth. Kawai beams at Hasshi in approval.
“Yeah, but you’ll have to wait forever, of course you don’t care!” Senga retorts. “I’ve been waiting forever already! Usually Nika and I watch together and he spends the night, but now I can’t even do that! And he can’t come over after because I have school the next day!”
“It’s not my fault I had a birthday, you know,” Nikaido rolls his shoulders and scowls, uncomfortable under Senga’s glare.
“It’s not Kisumai if we aren’t all there!” Senga protests, shoving a little at Nikaido because he’s the most convenient. “I want to be with my unit!”
“We can still be Ebikisu even if we’re doing different things,” Hasshi tries again to reassure Senga, apparently not aware that Senga’s narrowed eyes signal danger. “That’s not what makes you a unit.”
“I guess you’d know, having been in so many units,” Senga says with venom, while Hasshi continues to look back at him guilelessly. “Not that A.B.C. really is your…”
Fujigaya slaps a hand tightly over Senga’s mouth and says pleasantly, “Don’t you guys have practice with Nakamaru right now?”
“Right, right,” Kawai says lazily, the only sign that he felt the tension in the air the slight grin of thanks he shoots Fujigaya when their eyes meet. He stands up and slings an arm around Hasshi’s shoulders. “Come on, Hasshi-kun, you can explain to Nakamaru-kun why we’re late.”
“Me?!” Hasshi protests, but trots along with Kawai willingly. Tsuka follows them as well, laying a brief hand on Senga’s shoulder and squeezing on the way by.
When all the members of A.B.C.-Z have left the room, Fujigaya peels his hand away from Senga’s mouth.
“You were about to say something really cruel,” he admonishes Senga.
“I know.” Senga’s head hangs even lower now that he’s had a few seconds to think about what he almost said. “Thanks for stopping me, Taipi.”
“Tcht, kouhai,” Fujigaya rolls his eyes a little, but he puts his hands on Senga’s shoulders and lets Senga press against his chest for a moment, seeking comfort. Then he gently pushes Senga back, in Nikaido’s direction, and gives Nikaido a pointed look.
“I’ll make it up to you, okay?” Nikaido promises gruffly, then grunts when Senga wraps arms around him instead and Tamamori and Miyata snicker from across the room.
When Senga turns his phone back on at the end of the school day, he has a mail waiting for him. It’s from Nikaido, and it tells Senga, rather than asking him, that he is to get on the train to Nikaido’s house and that he’s spending the night. It’s all set up, the mail says, and Senga doesn’t have to bother calling, he should just show up.
Amused, Senga calls Nikaido anyway, and asks whether Nikaido has bothered to tell Senga’s mother about this during all his grand scheming.
“My mom called your mom this morning,” Nikaido says smugly, “but I can’t tell you any more until you’re here or it’ll ruin the surprise, so I’m hanging up now.”
And he does hang up on Senga, but Senga just laughs some more as he catches up with a group of friends heading towards the station, because Nikaido can be so serious about his little plans sometimes. It’s more than a little adorable.
Senga whiles away the long train ride to Nikaido’s station, made even longer by a delayed train, with cell phone games and the occasional mail to friends from the jimusho. Tamamori asks how much ‘making up for it’ Senga is actually going to demand, and Tsuka reminds Senga not to get too energetic because they have Butoukan practice tomorrow.
A whole Countdown’s worth, Senga replies to Tamamori, adding a string of cat faces, and then to Tsuka, It’s only A.B.C. who seems to think energetic has to equal acrobatic.
When his train finally does arrive and Senga hops out, he finds Nikaido lurking just beyond the turnstile, waiting for him and looking half-frozen.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming!” Senga scolds. “I would have called you when I got close!”
“This is Japan!” Nikaido snaps in reply, hands buried in his armpits. “Everything’s supposed to be on time!” But his expression at least thaws a little when Senga peels the glove off his right hand to stick it on Nikaido’s, and then takes his now bare hand to grab Nikaido’s bare left hand and jams both of them in the pocket of his coat. Nikaido’s fingers are so cold they make Senga wince, but he curls his own warmer fingers through them, and by the time they’re out on the sidewalk, walking shoulder to shoulder, he can’t tell the difference between their temperatures.
They both heave a sign of relief when they stumble into the warmth of Nikaido’s house. They’re so occupied at first with stripping off their coats and shoes, with warming up, that it takes Senga a couple minutes to realize that their shoes are the only ones in the genkan.
“Hey,” Senga pokes Nikaido in the shoulder, “where’s your family?”
“That’s the surprise,” Nikaido says with a grin. “My parents are at my grandmother’s to help her move some furniture, and it’s really too far to go and come back so they’re spending the night. So I’m staying here.” Senga blinks as Nikaido continues. “To watch the house.” Senga blinks again. Nikaido sighs. “Aaaaall alone.”
“But you hate to be…” comprehension finally dawns on Senga’s face. “Oooooh.”
Nikaido’s grin is really more like a leer now that Senga is looking properly. “So my mother called your mother and asked if you would spend the night to keep me company.”
“My mother does have a soft spot for complete weenies,” Senga agreed, making Nikaido scowl and punch him in the shoulder. “So…we’ve got all night? Alone?”
“Uh-huh,” Nikaido answers, and now Senga’s leer matches his. Nikaido pushes Senga back against the wall, pins his wrists against it. “I told you I’d make it up to you that I can’t spend the night after Countdown.”
Senga’s expression softens. “Nika, I’m not mad at you about that. I know it isn’t your fault.”
“I know that!” Nikaido says quickly, but Senga can still see the tension leave Nikaido’s shoulders. One of Nikaido’s hands releases Senga’s wrist and comes up to stroke his thumb along Senga’s cheek. “But I still don’t like when you’re upset.”
“Nika…” Senga starts, feeling warm all over, but Nikaido cuts him off with a kiss. Senga gives in easily, opening his mouth under Nikaido’s and going limp against the wall as Nikaido presses in closer. Nikaido lets go of Senga’s other wrist as well, sliding his hand up under Senga’s uniform jacket. His fingers are still chilled, and Senga whines as he feels them through the thin cotton of his T-shirt.
Nikaido breaks the kiss, pulling away just far enough to meet Senga’s eyes. Senga feels dazed, and is having a hard time watching Nikaido’s eyes rather than his mouth, which is slick and pink.
“Want to order dinner?” Nikaido asks. He tightens his grip on Senga’s waist, making his breath hitch. “Or want to get right to the part where I make all the wrongs of the world up to you?”
“I want you,” Senga answers, partially because he can’t concentrate enough to say something clever back, but also so that he can see heat flare in Nikaido’s eyes at his plain statement. Nikaido doesn’t disappoint.
Nikaido’s skin is smooth and hot, and Senga can’t get enough of running his hands over it when they are curled up together on Nikaido’s bed, their clothes in a heap on his floor. Senga will be annoyed when he has to wear a wrinkled uniform back to school tomorrow, and probably take more than a little teasing about it from Yamamoto, but for now it’s about the farthest thing from his mind as Nikaido arches up against his palms.
“Would you please stop teasing!” Nikaido begs, fingers twisted tight in his sheets. Senga is sitting on his waist, pinning him and keeping him from putting up much of a fight as Senga slides his fingers over Nikaido’s chest, exploring it slowly and lingering any place he finds something interesting. Like Nikaido’s nipples, for instance.
“Hm?” Senga thumbs the rough point of Nikaido’s nipple again, making Nikaido give a squawk. “But I never get to see you. We’re always in a hurry, so I want to take my time!”
“We have all night,” Nikaido groans, eyes squeezing shut as Senga traces a fingernail over his bottom rib. “Fuck, Senga!”
Senga hums, pleased at the desperation in Nikaido’s voice, and scootches back just far enough that Nikaido’s cock, already flushed and pulling up towards his stomach, brushes against Senga’s ass from time to time as he struggles. Not near hard enough to give him any relief, but enough to make him let go of the sheets and grab for Senga’s hips instead.
“Tell me you want me,” Senga orders, making Nikaido snap open his eyes and regard Senga warily.
“I want you,” he says. It’s obvious, but Senga grins anyway.
“Tell me how you want me,” Senga continues. Heat and embarrassment war on Nikaido’s face for a second, but heat wins when Senga edges back just a touch more.
“I want you underneath me,” Nikaido says, cheeks turning pink, but he doesn’t look away from Senga’s keen gaze. “On your knees as first, but then on your back because,” Nikaido struggles to finish, but Senga tilts his head and makes a very interested noise, and Nikaido manages, “because I want to see your face when you come.”
Senga wriggles in pleasure at Nikaido’s words, wishing that Nikaido would say stuff like that out loud all the time instead of just when Senga forces him. They’ll have to work on it, he supposes, but for now there’s only one more thing he wants to hear.
“Tell me you love me,” he says, and Nikaido freezes underneath Senga, his face turning from pink to bright red.
“Senga!” he snaps, obviously having thought they were done with this game and not pleased about this last twist. He turns his face away from Senga to glare at the wall.
“Tell me,” Senga orders again, voice firm. Nikaido sighs angrily, and for a second Senga thinks he won’t do it, but then Nikaido does turn his face back up to meet Senga’s eyes, fingers tightening even more on Senga’s skin.
“I love you,” he says, voice gruff. “Okay?”
“Mm, me too,” Sega replies, delighted, and drops his weight onto Nikaido’s chest to squeeze him tight. He finds Nikaido’s mouth with his own for a hot, fierce kiss, and the stiffness bleeds out of Nikaido’s body as his hands slide up, hot against Senga’s lower back.
Senga gasps into Nikaido’s mouth when Nikaido’s hands slide even lower, palming the curve of Senga’s ass. He doesn’t fight at all when Nikaido rolls them over, and when Nikaido’s weight is heavy and comforting over top of him, Senga spreads his legs so that Nikaido settles naturally in between his thighs, like he belongs there.
Nikaido tears his mouth away from Senga’s and presses his cheek against Senga’s to collect himself a moment, breath rough against Senga’s ear. Senga curls arms tight around Nikaido’s neck and his legs around Nikaido’s waist, pushing up against him.
“You,” Nikaido growls, the dark thrill of it tripping up Senga’s spine. “Why don’t you tell me how you want it?”
“Hard,” Senga answers immediately and without a trace of shame, “and right now.”
Nikaido growls again, shuddering at Senga’s words, and Senga keeps talking as Nikaido starts easing a finger inside him, just to feel Nikaido do it again. While Nikaido works a second and a third finger inside, Senga tells him exactly how deep and thick and hot he wants him, and how if Nikaido doesn’t hurry up about it, Senga might just flip him over and use his mouth instead.
“Or,” Senga whispers, voice low with the danger of this suggestion, “maybe I’ll show you what it’s like when you do it to me.”
“Senga Kento,” Nikaido yanks his hand free and shoves Senga down flat on his back, fingers digging into Senga’s shoulders. “If you don’t shut the hell up, I’m going to lose it right now. Do you want to get fucked or don’t you?!”
“I do,” Senga answers immediately, pliant under Nikaido’s hands, not submissive but more than willing. “I really, really want you to fuck me, Nika.”
Nikaido gives a harsh, breathless laugh that says he knows that he’s just got exactly what he asked for, and it makes Senga grin even as a shiver of want works its way throughout his whole body at how dark Nikaido’s eyes are, pupils wide.
Senga lifts his hips to help Nikaido push inside him, gasping and whining at how big Nikaido still feels at first no matter how often they do this. He closes his eyes against the sting of tears and wraps his arms tight around Nikaido’s neck, squeezes until Nikaido can’t be any further inside him.
“Ken-chan,” Nikaido breathes, voice full of wonder no matter how often they do this. Senga rolls his hips in response, needing a minute to adjust but not wanting one, and Nikaido scrabbles for a grip on Senga’s hips as Senga gets his feet planted and moves against Nikaido more seriously. “Dammit, slow down, idiot!”
“Can’t,” Senga says, voice pitched high, the rub of Nikaido’s stomach not enough against his own cock, but unwilling to let go of Nikaido’s neck to get a hand between them either.
“This is why you have to start on your knees,” Nikaido says in exasperation, pushing Senga down again, but this time leaving his hands planted on Senga’s chest to hold him still while he pulls out. “Over! And don’t argue!”
The command in Nikaido’s voice sends a different kind of shiver through Senga, and he’s obeying before he can really think about it. Before he has a chance to think anything really, Nikaido’s already warm and heavy draped over his back, easing back inside Senga, but without having to fight past the initial resistance this time. Senga fists the sheets and moans shamelessly.
He tries to thrust backwards, but Nikaido’s already got his hips in an iron grip, forcing him to stay still while Nikaido thrusts at his own pace. Nikaido’s rhythm is steady but sharp, making Senga ache for more. He’s close to where Senga wants him, having learned the angle from experience, and all it takes is Senga spreading his knees just a little more before Nikaido’s next thrust nails the perfect spot, driving all the air out of Senga’s lungs.
The thrust after that sends Senga to his elbows, putting him in no better position to reach his own cock than he had been before.
“You’re completely useless,” Nikaido says as he reaches around, but the words are tight with pleasure and affection, and even if Senga was going to get angry about it, it’s forgotten as soon as Nikaido’s hand closes around Senga’s cock, tight and still slick with lube.
Nikaido doesn’t jerk Senga off so much as pound him forward into his fist, but it doesn’t make much difference to Senga either way. Senga can’t stop making thin, greedy noises whenever he can draw in enough breath to do so. If he drops his head he knows he’ll be able to see his cock in Nikaido’s fist, but he can’t keep his eyes open, and anyway, he doesn’t want to come yet, wants it to last longer, and concentrates on holding on.
It’s Nikaido who cracks first, and Senga feels a burst of victory underneath the haze of lust as Nikaido pulls out and shoves Senga over onto his back again. He’s back inside before Senga can even draw a full breath, one hand braced next to Senga’s head to support his weight while the other wraps around Senga’s cock. Senga curls a hand around Nikaido’s bicep as Nikaido strokes him roughly, thrusting back against Nikaido’s cock and up against his hand until Senga comes in a white-hot burst of heat over his stomach.
Dimly, he feels Nikaido let go of his cock and brace himself on both elbows before really letting go, and Senga does manage to get his eyes open in time to see Nikaido’s release, his mouth open, cheeks flushed, shoulders shaking as his back pulls tight, then relaxes as he slumps on Senga’s chest.
Senga smoothes the damp curls of hair back from Nikaido’s face as Nikaido shivers himself out, letting Nikaido hide his face against Senga’s neck until he’s got himself put back together.
“Okay?” Nikaido asks after a minute, voice rough.
“Mmhmm,” Senga assures, wrapping a leg around as best he can, so that his heel is resting on Nikaido’s thigh. “Stay right there.”
“So,” Nikaido says when they are lounging around in the bath, eventually having worked up the energy to get cleaned up, “you aren’t mad about Countdown any more?”
“Nah.” Senga shrugs, mellow from the heat of the water and of Nikaido’s arm around his shoulders. “Besides, Hasshi mailed me during the ride out and asked if I wanted to watch together. He’s spending the night.”
“WHAT?” Nikaido demands, sitting up so fast that water sloshes over the edge of the tub, and Senga just laughs until he nearly drowns himself.