Kis-My-Ft2, Big Bang

Title: Big Bang [Senga/Nikaido]
Rating/Warnings: R for post-concert shenanigans
Summary: If this is what he gets out of it, Nikaido is totally willing to take Senga to all the Korean concerts that he wants.
AN: A little while ago, Nikaido and Senga were spotted at a Big Bang concert, where obviously Senga had dragged Nika to it since he’s the one into Kpop. But then we started talking about, you know it must be nice to go to somebody else’s con for once, since you get all the adrenaline and excitement, but aren’t so exhausted at the end, so…

Big Bang

Nikaido could take or leave Kpop, but he’s all about how into it Senga is. They’re supposed to be inconspicuous at the Big Bang concert, Manager-san made them swear, but half a dozen songs in Senga has plainly forgot about all of that. He’s singing along and bouncing on his toes like the rest of the fans, waving his penlight like a nut.

He’s glowing like it’s his own concert, and when Nikaido grabs his free hand and laces their fingers together, Senga flashes him a smile that sends heat racing the whole way to Nikaido’s fingers and toes.

It’s a good show, Nikaido has no problem admitting, easy to see why Big Bang is so popular. It’s totally different from Kisumai’s concerts but interesting to see a show that’s so unlike the stuff they do, to think about maybe using this element or that one in one of their own shows. Nikaido enjoys himself more than a little, just as sorry as Senga and the fangirls around them to see it end.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Senga says when they’re getting ready to go, pressed close together by the crowd of exiting fans. He’s practically thrumming with concert adrenaline against Nikaido’s side, eyes bright and hair damp with sweat.

Sure, he’d intended to say, but the way Senga is looking up at him makes him say, “Make it up to me,” instead. “Take me home.”

Senga’s eyes spark, his grip tightening on Nikaido’s arm, and it makes Nikaido’s heart race faster than any concert ever could, Korean or otherwise.

The trip home is delicious torture, want crackling over Nikaido’s skin every time they brush close together. Thankfully it’s a short trip to Senga’s apartment; they’d never make it the whole way to Nikaido’s house as fired up as both of them are. Even more thankfully, Senga’s mother is back in Nagoya for a few days, so Nikaido can shove Senga up against the door as soon as it’s shut.

“Nika,” Senga gasps as Nikaido presses tightly against him and drags lips up Senga’s neck. He slides hands under Senga’s T-shirt, Senga’s skin hot under Nikaido’s fingertips as he drags them up Senga’s sides. “Nika. Mm, what’s gotten into you?”

It feels just like after one of their concerts, Nikaido thinks, although he doesn’t bother pulling his mouth away from Senga’s skin to answer. Except for one big difference: they’re not both too exhausted to do anything about it. He drags his lips up to Senga’s ear and murmurs, “Let’s go to bed,” grinning when Senga shivers against him.

They leave a trail of clothes down the hallway, both of them bumping into each other and stumbling over their pants, Senga laughing and skipping just out of reach when Nikaido tries to get hands on his bare skin. The chase lasts the whole way into Senga’s room, until Senga trips over his own feet and spills himself into bed, still giggling.

“Careful, you!” Nikaido snaps, adrenaline rushing through his veins and followed by sharp relief at Senga’s soft landing. He crawls into bed after Senga, running hands over Senga’s chest and arms as if checking for damage. “You could’ve cracked your skull open.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry so much,” Senga assures, stretching out under Nikaido’s attention until he’s spread eagle across the bed, eyes fluttering shut. “That feels so good…”

Nikaido digs his fingers in a little more, hard enough to be an actual massage. He runs hands down Senga’s chest, over his abs and belly, down Senga’s thighs, and then back up again until he’s dragging fingers along Senga’s biceps. Senga’s skin feels like it’s burning under Nikaido’s palms, still a bit damp, and Senga’s soft, encouraging noises are going right to Nikaido’s cock.

“Please,” Senga murmurs, eyes still closed but starting to push up against Nikaido’s hands. “Please, Nika.”

“Please what?” Nikaido drags knuckles down Senga’s sternum and Senga cries out softly, shoulders coming up off the mattress. When he does open his eyes, they’re dark with lust and only for Nikaido.

“Come here.” Senga holds out his arms, and Nikaido all but falls into them, crushing their mouths together.

Senga twines arms around Nikaido’s neck, and Nikaido falls naturally in between his thighs so that they rock against each other with every breath. The tip of Senga’s cock is already wet where it’s brushing Nikaido’s belly, and Nikaido doubts they’ll manage anything more complicated than this before one or both of them comes.

At least the first time. They’ve got all night, after all, and sleeping is the last thing Nikaido plans on doing any time soon.

“Like this?” Senga murmurs into Nikaido’s mouth, clearly on the same wavelength. He shifts a bit and rolls his hips deliberately, and suddenly their cocks are sliding against each other’s, making Nikaido give a long groan. “More, ah, more,” he pleads, and Nikaido feels like fire is washing through his veins, Senga’s fingers dragging down his back leaving searing trails.

He plants his knees and thrusts into Senga’s hiprolls, lifting his head so that Senga’s moans ring clear through the apartment. He’s almost there, almost, but it’s not quite enough, leaving him growling in frustration as Senga goes tense and spills against him, fingers digging into the small of Nikaido’s back hard enough to probably leave marks.

“Sorry,” Senga apologizes breathlessly, but he doesn’t look sorry at all. He looks gorgeous taken advantage of, hair wild and lips puffy, eyes low lidded as they stare up at Nikaido. “Gimme a sec.”

“Kenpiii,” Nikaido complains, letting his weight fall heavily onto Senga and burying his face in the curve of Senga’s neck. His hips are still flexing on their own, and it feels even better now that Senga’s stomach is slick, but it’s still not enough. Nikaido needs pretty direct stimulation to get off and Senga knows it; he’s even giggling into Nikaido’s hair about it. “Quit laughing and get me off.”

“Yeah, okay.” Senga squirms from the tickle of Nikaido growling against his neck. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” Nikaido answers, too far gone to be helpful, but then decides, “your mouth, I want your mouth.”

“‘Kay.” Senga stretches underneath him, the slide of their skin making Nikaido hiss. “Roll over then.”

Before he can make any move to do it himself, Nikaido finds himself flipped over onto his back, Senga grinning down at him in a way that makes his stomach knot with anticipation. Senga doesn’t make him wait any more, just slides down until he can wrap a hand around Nikaido’s cock. He gives the tip a teasing lick, then slides his mouth over the first couple centimeters, making Nikaido moan weakly.

“Mmm,” he lifts his head to say, “you taste like me.”

Before Nikaido can work out a response to that, Senga goes back to sucking him off and drives all the words out of Nikaido’s brain anyway. Nikaido can’t think about anything besides the slick heat of Senga’s mouth around him and how close he is. Senga’s hair is falling in his face and Nikaido reaches down to comb it back with his fingers so that it doesn’t block his view of Senga’s lips sliding up and down his length.

“So good, Kento,” he praises, far gone enough to talk a little. Senga loves when he does, he knows, but he’s usually too embarrassed to even try. Senga hums low in his throat, a clear go on, and Nikaido struggles to obey. “Your mouth feels so good, I love when you suck me off…”

He trails off into incoherent moaning as he gets close, and he tugs Senga’s hair in warning. Senga sucks hard enough to make his cheeks hollow, and Nikaido comes with a last groan of Senga’s name.

He’s still shivering when Senga finishes licking him clean and crawls back up into Nikaido’s arms, tugging Nikaido’s arms around himself when Nikaido is still too useless to do it himself. Senga’s heat is soothing against Nikaido’s oversensitive skin, his hands gentle in Nikaido’s hair and on his back.

“You’re not done yet, right?” Senga asks. He’s already getting hard again, Nikaido can feel it against his hip, but he doesn’t do anything to rush Nikaido. Nikaido nods, as much coordination as he can manage yet. “Good. I really want you inside.”

“Me too,” Nikaido sighs, arms tightening around Senga. When he can make his body move again, he’s definitely going to flip Senga over and get inside him, get deep enough that Senga will be feeling it until their next concert.

“I wish we had this much energy after our concerts,” Senga says, a bit wistful, and Nikaido knows what he means. It’s so frustrating when their bodies can’t keep up with the stuff they want to do. Then Senga’s voice turns sly. “But hey, do you think Big Bang do this kind of thing together too, after? Like we do?”

“Kenpi!” Nikaido groans, trying to block out mental images of G Dragon and Top naked and writhing against each other. “Ugh! You are such a fucking fangirl.”

“I hope they do,” Senga goes on, and when Nikaido looks up, Senga gives him a warm, sweet smile that makes his heart skip a few beats. “Because I hope they’re happy, and you make me so happy, Nika.”

Rather than answer in words, Nikaido drags Senga down for a long, deep kiss, the two of them wrapped as tightly together as they can be and with the whole night ahead of them still, trusting Senga to understand that Nikaido is so happy too.

In the second or two before Senga drives him totally out of his mind, Nikaido wonders whose show might be in town next weekend.