Kitayama might be taking a picture of this (mousapelli) wrote,
Kitayama might be taking a picture of this
mousapelli

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Fic, Kis-My-Ft2, Why Tamamori Hates Miyata On Tour

Title: Why Tamamori Hates Miyata on Tour [Miyata/Tamamori]
Rating/Warnings: R for Tama being a big liar.
Summary: Even after orgies, Miyata can't sleep on tour.
AN: This comes after Why Kitayama Hates Being On Tour, although it probably reads all right on its own.


Why Tamamori Hates Miyata on Tour

There’s a lot of things that Miyata likes about touring. He likes being with everyone, likes seeing new places, likes practicing with the senpai, likes the lights and the crowds and the uchiwa. He likes hotels, with the tiny shampoos and silly one-use toiletries, and he certainly likes being able to spend all night in Tamamori’s bed without worrying about whose parents are only a wall away.

On the other hand, there’s one thing he really hates about touring: Miyata never sleeps well with all the excitement.

Which is how he ends up staring at the ceiling, Tamamori’s chest rising and falling steadily against his side, Senga and Nikaido’s soft snores from across the room. Miyata is warm and content, and so tired that his body aches, but he still can’t sleep.

After a glance at the clock, Miyata winces and sighs. He tries not to shift too much, but after a second, Tamamori stirs too. He tilts his head against Miyata’s shoulder to blink sleepily at him.

“Still can’t sleep?” he murmurs.

“Nah.” Miyata lifts a hand to stroke through Tamamori’s sleep-wild hair, making his eyes flutter nearly shut again. “Don’t worry about it. Go back to sleep.”

“You’ll be exhausted tomorrow,” Tamamori protests. He sits up a little, ignoring Miyata’s attempts to pull him back down, then starts pushing at Miyata. Letting Tamamori do as he wills, Miyata ends up tucked against Tamamori’s chest, Tamamori’s heartbeat steady under his cheek.

“Feels good,” Miyata says amiably, sliding his arms around Tamamori. “But it won’t help.”

Tamamori strokes fingers down Miyata’s spine idly. “Want to go again? Might relax you.”

“I’m plenty relaxed, just not sleepy,” Miyata replies, smiling because really Tamamori is so transparent. And easy.

“Then want to go again just because?” Tamamori asks, and Miyata’s smile turns into a chuckle.

“Only you would wake up after an orgy and ask if I want to go again,” Miyata teases, shivering when Tamamori’s stroking changes into a light scratching. “I’m not even sure I can yet.”

“Let’s find out.” Tamamori nudges Miyata up onto his side enough to wrap long fingers around Miyata’s cock. Miyata’s skin is still a bit tacky from lube and come, but Tamamori doesn’t seem to mind as he works Miyata with long, steady strokes.

It does take a little bit, but Miyata slowly starts to harden in Tamamori’s grip. Tamamori goes on coaxing Miyata with gentle hands, in no hurry for a change.

“What was Senga whispering to you when he was doing this?” Tamamori asks meanwhile.

“He said, mm,” Miyata rocks up into Tamamori’s touch, “he said you were lucky.”

“Senga’s right,” Tamamori laughs, voice husky, and Miyata turns his head up for a kiss, heat and affection washing through his veins. Tamamori’s kiss is like his touch, lazy, familiar, and Miyata feels like he’s melting under the attention.

He’s not the only one getting off on it, though, and when Tamamori shifts closer, Miyata can feel Tamamori’s cock hard against his thigh. He moves a hand from Tamamori’s hip down to wrap around his length, taking his time exploring the way Tamamori’s soft, hot skin is stretched taut.

“Hey,” Tamamori pulls back from the kiss just far enough to say, “I’m supposed to be relaxing you.”

“I don’t mind,” Miyata answers, brushing their lips together again. “You like it, right?” Miyata twists his wrist and Tamamori has to bite his lip to keep from crying out loud enough to wake up Senga and Nikaido. “Mm, how could I not like it when you look like that?”

“Miyacchi,” Tamamori whines, cheeks turning pink, but he doesn’t tell him to stop. Miyata’s been around long enough to know that even though Tamamori looks flustered, he certainly doesn’t mind Miyata talking, especially when Miyata’s giving all the details about exactly how good Tamamori looks.

“When you were with Nika,” Miyata goes on, smirking when Tamamori’s breath hitches, “you know what I was thinking?”

“No,” Tamamori whispers, struggling to keep his own rhythm on Miyata’s cock steady. “Tell me?”

“I was thinking you looked really hot together,” Miyata admits, feeling a touch of embarrassment himself, but it’s fine if it’s Tamamori. “You’re both gorgeous, and good, and you were both enjoying yourselves, but really, the hottest thing?” Miyata pauses, and Tamamori whimpers in question. “The hottest thing was that I knew you were still mine, that no matter how good Nikaido was, you’d still want me.”

“Yeah,” Tamamori agrees, cheeks turning even darker, but he meets Miyata’s eyes as he gives him a soft kiss. “Nika’s hot, but I love you.”

Hearing Tamamori repeat it back makes Miyata shudder from head to toe, and he seizes Tamamori’s mouth in a fierce kiss. He tightens his grip on Tamamori, until Tamamori has to tear his mouth away and bury his face in Miyata’s shoulder to muffle his groans. Miyata isn’t surprised at all when a few seconds later Tamamori spills hot over his fingers.

“Sorry,” Tamamori mumbles when he has his breath back, but he doesn’t sounds terribly apologetic, and Miyata hardly minds when Tamamori is warm and loose-limbed in his arms. “So much for relaxing you.”

“I’m very relaxed,” Miyata assures. He flexes his hips into Tamamori’s slack grip. “Just don’t let go.”

“Hm, I have a better idea.”

Miyata shivers when he feels the curl of Tamamori’s smile against his skin. He doesn’t resist when Tamamori sits up and tugs Miyata over until Miyata is settled on his back in the warm spot where they’ve been lying.

“This looks like a very good idea,” Miyata says when Tamamori shifts down and settles himself so that his face is even with Miyata’s cock, and Tamamori snickers softly just before he slides his mouth over Miyata’s tip, hand still stroking Miyata slowly.

Getting his hands into Tamamori’s hair, Miyata tries to keep his eyes open, tries to keep watching Tamamori’s dark eyes and pink lips, but he’s warm and relaxed, and it feels so good. In the end he lets his head fall back against the pillows and his eyes slip shut, and concentrates instead on the feel of Tamamori’s mouth, and the warmth of Tamamori’s hair sliding between his fingers.

He tugs on Tamamori’s hair when he’s close, and it’s the way that Tamamori only presses more tightly against him that sends Miyata over the edge, shaking and trying not to moan too loudly.

Eventually Tamamori lets Miyata slip out of his mouth and crawls up to flop across Miyata’s chest for another lazy kiss. Miyata is happy to indulge him, one hand still tangled in Tamamori’s hair, the other loose on Tamamori’s hip.

Tamamori uses the convenient sheet to clean both of them off a little, then shoves the blankets down far enough that they aren’t touching the gross parts. They’re warm enough anyhow, and miraculously, Miyata’s eyelids finally do feel heavy with sleep.

“Oi,” Miyata remembers to say before he drifts off. “I love you too, you know.”

“Shut up and sleep,” Tamamori says, but his arms tighten around Miyata’s chest. “I hate what a sap you are on tours.”

“Liar,” Miyata mumbles, and he falls asleep with the feel of Tamamori’s smile curling against his skin.
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