Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for our cute, drunken 2
Summary: Kitayama's got a lot to be grumpy about this morning.
AN: 30 kisses, day 10. Ever since Kitayama revealed that he's kissed Nikaido during one of his little house parties, and given how he kept claiming and claiming he'd never been kissed, I've been figuring it went something like this. Also even if it isn't true I hope they go on calling him a cherry boy in public. Poor Leader.
Asu ni Mukatte
"Well," Yokoo looms over Nikaido, "now you've done it."
"Uuuugh," Nikaido groans, head pounding, mouth tasting awful, back sore from sleeping bunched up on Kitayama's couch. "Go'way."
"That was his first kiss, you know."
"Huwha?" Nikaido cracks one eye open. "Nuh uh." Things are a little blurry from Nikaido's first official Kisumai drinking party at Kitayama's apartment, but they're starting to trickle back in. He does indeed remember Kitayama's lips warm and rough under his, the electric shock that ran down his spine, the wideness of Kitayama's eyes.
Nikaido shifts uncomfortably under Yokoo's glare and folded arms, then whimpers at how that makes his head pound.
"Really?" he asks, abashed.
"So you do remember. Shower," Yokoo points to the bathroom, "because you smell like Kawai's Kabuki socks, then apologize, you thoughtless kiss monster, because you stole Leader's precious first kiss and it didn't mean a single thing to you."
"Kiss monster?" Nikaido frowns, vague panic settling in, or maybe nausea. "Who else did I kiss?!" Yokoo just eyes him another second before stomping off to the kitchen, and Nikaido can't chase him, because as soon as he stands up, everything starts to spin.
He stumbles to the shower, holding on the to the wall the whole way, edging cautiously around the knot of Tamamori and Miyata on the spare futon, and not having any desire to run into Fujigaya in this state. The hot water at least soothes his headache to a dull pounding, so he doesn't feel like he's going to throw up on Kitayama's face when he shuffles into Kitayama's room and sits down on the edge of the bed.
Good thing too, since Kitayama's sleeping face is really cute.
"Hey," Nikaido shakes Kitayama's shoulder, feeling a little like he'll deserve it if he gets murdered. "Wake up."
Kitayama opens one eye, then shuts it again when he sees who it is. "No. Go bug Watta."
"C'mon, please?" Nikaido shifts over a little more, so he can sit properly. "Can we talk?"
"There's nothing to talk about." Kitayama rolls over and hitches up his blanket so that the only thing showing is the poof of his hair, his back to Nikaido. "You got drunk, you kissed me, the end. I'm going back to sleep."
"Watta says it was your first kiss."
There's the hiss of Kitayama breathing through gritted teeth. "If it makes you feel better, I'm not too thrilled with him at the moment either. Out."
"He's mad because I stole it without it meaning anything—"
"He's mad?!" Kitayama interrupts.
"—but it didn't," Nikaido keeps going. "I mean, it didn't mean nothing."
A silence stretches out between them, uncomfortable and sticky.
"Just because I never had the guts to do it before," Nikaido breaks the silence when he can't stand it anymore, "just because you aren't the first person I've kissed, I really did want to. You can kick me out if you're still mad, and I'll get it, but it didn't mean nothing."
Kitayama rolls back over, eyeing Nikaido. "Okay. So?"
The blanket is covering Kitayama's mouth, but Nikaido can see in Kitayama's eyes that he's been forgiven, or that he will be eventually. He sees curiosity too, or more like interest, and Nikaido feels a flicker of hope that things between them might turn out like he imagines they could be when he's alone in his bed, or when he touches himself.
All that can wait, though.
"So move over," Nikaido says boldly, starting to wriggle his way under Kitayama's blankets. "My head is killing me, and if I go back out there there's no telling what Fujigaya will do to me."
Kitayama grumbles but slides back enough that Nikaido isn't hanging off the edge. They're still nose to nose, though, or pretty much so, when they settle.
"Watta called me a kiss monster," Nikaido pouts. "Mean."
Kitayama rolls his eyes. "You are a kiss monster."
"Hey! You kissed me back, you're just as bad."
"I've kissed one person," Kitayama narrows his eyes, "so how exactly does that make me a kiss monster?"
"Let me help you with that," Nikaido offers, edging closer, intent obvious. He gives Kitayama plenty of time to back out, to argue, but Kitayama doesn't do anything to prevent Nikaido from stealing his second kiss.
It's a lot better, despite the morning breath, because at least Nikaido remembers all of this one.