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 Miyata Loves Birthdays

Title: Why Miyata Loves Birthdays [Miyata/Tamamori]
Rating/Warnings: NC-17 for Tama's other present.
Summary: Tamamori thinks that nobody has ever explained birthdays to Miyata properly.
AN: Otanjoubi omedetou, Tama-chan! I hope this year is just as exciting as the last few weeks have been for you! Good luck with drama and filmings and movies and everything else, even if Miyacchi bodytouches you and you think it's gross ;)


Why Miyata Loves Birthdays

“On your birthday, you go out drinking,” Tamamori says, frowning. “And on MY birthday, you go out drinking! Seeing anything wrong with this picture?”

“Said you could have some,” Miyata slurs. He pokes Tamamori in the cheek. “Just cause you’re a prude.”

“Just cause I don’t want to get fired, you moron. Besides, you fucked me in the bathroom a half hour ago,” Tamamori retorts, eyes narrowing. “A lot of things I might be, but a prude isn’t one of them.”

“Yeah, I did.” Miyata smiles hazily, gaze unfocused. “Birthdays are GREAT.”

“At least you can’t drunk dial me,” Tamamori sighs, climbing out of the booth. “Come on, get up.”

“What, why?” Miyata whines as Tamamori gets a good grip on his upper arm and yanks him up to his feet. Miyata wavers a little before he steadies, although his grip on Tamamori doesn’t loosen.

“Because I have filming tomorrow and I have to go to bed,” Tamamori says. “So if you want to come with me, now’s the time.”

Tamamori tries to tell Kitayama or Fujigaya that they’re leaving, but the only people from their original group he can find are Yokoo and Tsuka, who smile a lot and tell him to check the bathroom. Miyata opens his mouth, looking interested, but Tamamori slaps a hand over it and says they’ll pass.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Tamamori comments when they are almost home. “Usually by my stop you’ve told me you love me about twenty times and named your most recent top five list of my body parts.”

“Number one never changes,” Miyata agrees happily, cheek pillowed against Tamamori’s shoulder.

“So?” Tamamori bumps Miyata’s face with his shoulder. “What’s the deal?”

“S’your birthday,” Miyata answers. Tamamori waits a second, but apparently Miyata feels that’s all the explanation needed.

“So on my birthday you’re going to get drunk and then not tell me you love me?” Tamamori rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Miyacchi, I don’t think anybody’s explained birthdays to you correctly.”

“I know what birthdays are for,” Miyata says in tones of deep scorn. “You don’t like it in public. So m’not.”

“Well…” Tamamori blinks, not sure what to say. “I mean, you could if you wanted. A little.”

“Ahhhh~!” Miyata lifts his head up to tease, poking Tamamori’s cheek again. “Hey, isn’t this our stop?”

“Fuck!” Tamamori exclaims, yanking Miyata out of his seat and dashing for the door, ignoring the disapproving glares of the pair of little old ladies across the aisle.

At Tamamori’s house, Tamamori-san comes out of the kitchen while they’re kicking off their shoes to ask how the birthday dinner was. Miyata tries not to look terribly drunk, but blushes when Tamamori and his mother both glance him over and then share a knowing look.

“Oi,” Miyata protests weakly. He elbows Tamamori. “Show her your present at least.”

For a second Tamamori’s cheeks heat up, but then he remembers the other present and reaches under his collar to tug the chain out. The little black bead on it resettles back against the hollow of Tamamori’s throat.

It’s Miyata’s third favorite body part, not that Tamamori’s mother needs to know that.

“Well,” Tamamori-san says with a smile, “I guess you pass then,” and Tamamori snickers when Miyata lets out a not-terribly subtle sigh of relief.

“I don’t know what you’re laughing about,” Miyata grumbles once they’ve made it the whole way to Tamamori’s room. “You thought she meant the other present.”

Tamamori flushes darker, but he laughs too as he tugs Miyata close enough to kiss his cheek. “She said you pass, so I guess I’ll keep you.”

“Good to know.” Miyata noses Tamamori’s necklace out of the way to kiss the hollow of his throat, making Tamamori’s breath hitch. “Come on, bed.”

“Tell me you love me,” Tamamori demands, not moving when Miyata tugs on him.

Miyata laughs and nips at Tamamori’s skin. “I love you, yo. Bed now?”

“Yeah, bed.” Tamamori sneaks a quick kiss. “But we aren’t breaking out the other present until you’re good and sober.”

“Aw, Tama-chan…” Miyata starts, but Tamamori yanks Miyata’s shirt over his head to shut him up.

“No way. You can’t untie knots when you’re drunk,” Tamamori reminds, flicking Miyata’s forehead. “And needing my mother to come in and untie me from my headboard is not a birthday present I want this year.”

They crawl into bed, Miyata warm and clingy from the alcohol, investigating all his favorite spots with clumsy fingers.

“You’re useless, you know?” Tamamori says sadly, but he’s smiling as he pushes Miyata’s hand out of the way and wraps his own hand around both of their cocks to stroke slowly.

“But you love me, right?” Miyata’s eyes flutter shut and he pushes into Tamamori’s touch. “Ne, ne, right?”

“Yeah, I do.” Tamamori kisses Miyata, and doesn’t stop kissing him as he rolls them over so that Miyata is sprawled out on his back, Tamamori settling in a straddle over his waist. He breaks the kiss to ask, “You aren’t gonna pass out in the middle, right?”

“Are you gonna last long enough that there’ll be a part we can call the middle?” Miyata wants to know.

“Nope,” Tamamori answers, and he gives Miyata a sweet smile before kissing the grin off his face.

Tamamori has to do all the work, but he doesn’t mind really. They keep talking about Miyata watching Tamamori get himself ready, but he can’t ever manage to keep his hands to himself. Tonight, though, Miyata watches the whole thing with wide eyes. Tamamori would rather have Miyata’s fingers instead of his, the angle to awkward on his own despite his long fingers, but the way Miyata watches him is almost as hot, almost as good.

The way Miyata begs him to hurry up is definitely good; the way his fingers find Tamamori’s hips and dig into his skin is even better.

They get in each other’s way as they fumble a condom onto Miyata and get everything slick and aligned, and it’s all worth it when Tamamori can watch Miyata’s face as he sinks down onto his cock.

“I could watch you do that over and over,” Miyata says, voice breathless and awed.

“Good.” Tamamori grins down at him and plants his knees. “Cause you’re about to.”

Miyata keeps up with Tamamori as best he can, pushing up against him as Tamamori rocks down and releasing his grip on Tamamori’s hip to have Tamamori thrusting into his hand.

“Getting close?” Tamamori asks, struggling to keep his eyes open against the burn of pleasure radiating up his spine.

“Yeah,” Miyata manages, thrusts getting sharper and more desperate. “Come for me?”

Tamamori never can refuse a direct request like that. He throws his head back and lets go, biting down on his lower lip to keep from alerting everybody in the house how much he loves Miyata.

Miyata’s a little too drunk to remember that part.

“Oh my god, I want to die,” Tamamori moans into his pillow after his mother has been reassured through the door that everything’s fine and no one needs CPR or untying.

Miyata, who thinks the whole thing is hilarious, doesn’t even stop snickering when Tamamori picks up his head to glare at him.

“Aww, Tama-chan, she already knew,” Miyata soothes in between giggles. He kisses Tamamori’s shoulder, cuddling up even closer. “Congratulations on your birthday.”

“Hmph.” Tamamori lets his head flop back down onto his pillow, but with his face turned towards Miyata. “I hope I’m just as annoying drunk as you are.”

“Just as cute you mean,” Miyata corrects with a silly grin.

“Idiot,” Tamamori says without any heat, and leans over to kiss the stupid grin right off Miyata’s face.
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