Kis-My-Ft2, If You Miss Me Like I Miss You

Title: If You Miss Me Like I Miss You [Senga/Nikaido]
Rating/Warnings: R for Senga’s preferred homecoming.
Summary: Maybe it’s jetlag or post-vacation letdown, or maybe Senga just wants Nikaido to welcome him home properly.
AN: Set immediately after No Matter Where I’m At, No Matter Where I Go, and titled from the same Hot Chelle Rae song. Why do I keep writing all this Nisen, idek. It isn’t like I’ll get any return MiyaTama out of you know who or anything.

If You Miss Me Like I Miss You

Senga sneezes in the middle of typing the mail, then chuckles ruefully at himself for ruining the surprise as he hears the thump of Nikaido’s feet hitting the floor on the other side of his bedroom door. He has just enough time to press ‘send’ before the door flings open, just enough to catch a glimpse Nikaido’s wild eyes and even wilder bedhead before he’s crushed against Nikaido’s chest.

He squeezes Nikaido back just as tightly, letting his eyes flutter shut as he draws a deep breath, the smell of Nikaido’s skin familiar and comforting.

“I’m home,” he murmurs, smiling at the way Nikaido’s heart is pounding, as if Nikaido has been in the throes of panic the entire time he’s been gone. His muscles are tense all over as well, as if he’s forgotten how to unclench them. “Stop worrying, Nika, I’m home.”

“Good. Keep it that way,” Nikaido growls, then his voice softens as he adds, “Welcome home,” properly. Senga feels the press of Nikaido’s nose against his hair and hums low in his throat.

When he tilts his head up, Nikaido obliges him with a kiss right away. It’s sweet but turns demanding after only a few seconds, and if it has an edge of desperation, that’s a feeling Senga can understand more than well enough at the moment. He doesn’t put up any resistance, just clings to Nikaido helplessly until Nikaido’s hands get under his shirt. Nikaido drags fingers down Senga’s spine, making Senga arch and groan into his mouth.

Senga has to pull away then, both of them panting, Nikaido’s eyes dark and his lower lip puffing up, and Senga presses another quick kiss against it before he can stop himself.

“Mom’s waiting downstairs,” he reminds, sighing when Nikaido trails lips over the edge of his jaw, brushes his nose against Senga’s ear. “She was worried too, so she’ll be up here pretty quick if we aren’t down.” Unspoken is how Senga doesn’t trust himself either to stop or to be quick about it if Nikaido gets him started, not with the way Nikaido’s hands are leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake as they skim over Senga’s skin.

Nikaido sighs softly, breath warm across Senga’s cheek. “Yeah.” He steps back, and the little shake he gives himself is almost cute enough to make up for the lack of his hands on Senga’s skin.

Almost. Later, he promises himself. Later they can take as long as they want.

He doesn’t let Nikaido escape all the way, but grabs his hand and laces their fingers together. “Come on, I have tons of pictures to show you guys!”

Downstairs, Senga’s mother doesn’t seem any less inclined to quit touching Senga any more than Nikaido, kissing him on the cheek for helping set the table and ruffling his hair on the way by every single time.

“Quit it both of you!” Senga finally says in the middle of eating, but he’s laughing. “It’s like nobody had any faith I’d come back alive!”

Nikaido and Senga-san share a look of perfect understanding across the table.

“Hey!!”

After Senga and Nikaido have eaten enough food to placate even a herd of Snow Princes, not that it satisfies Senga’s mother, they settle on the couch to look at Senga’s pictures on his laptop. Senga is squished tightly in the middle between them. Halfway through, Nikaido’s cheek starts to rest against Senga’s shoulder, and by the time he looks up at the end, Nikaido is obviously fighting exhaustion. Small wonder, given their late night Skype adventures, plus his interrupted sleeping schedule since.

Senga isn’t the least bit tired, his own schedule all askew from time change, but he doesn’t protest when his mother says they should go up to bed early and try to rest up for work tomorrow. He wonders if his mother thinks sleeping is really what they’re going upstairs to do, but then again, to look at Nikaido’s ringed eyes and the way he’s failing to muffle yawns, maybe it’s not such a misplaced belief.

His mother give him another tight hug before she sends them off, though, then pulls back and holds his face between the palms of her hand for a few seconds, looking him over.

“What was I thinking, letting you go all over on your own?” She clicks her tongue when Senga just grins, guileless. “It’s a wonder you made it back alive.”

“Mooom,” Senga gives a token protest, but leans in to kiss her cheek. “I’m glad to be home.”

“Hmm,” she says, smiling just a little, and then she shoos them off, telling them don’t worry about the dishes and not to leave their towels all over the floor after their bath.

Upstairs, they don’t even have to exchange words about it before tugging off each other’s clothing and tumbling into Senga’s bed. Nikaido makes a needy, longing noise as soon as he has Senga’s skin against his, and Senga curls up against and around him as tightly as he can, apologizing with his mouth and hands for going away.

He rolls on top of Nika and braces himself on his elbows so that he can see Nikaido’s face as he rolls their hips together. Nikaido squirms and wraps arms around Senga’s neck to yank him down for another long kiss. Senga lets him; there’ll be time enough to watch later when Nikaido’s been worn out enough that laziness overcomes embarrassment. Instead he turns his head to break the kiss and starts to whisper in Nikaido’s ear.

“I missed you,” he says, delighted at the way Nikaido shivers under him. “Especially at the hotel, I wanted you there. I thought about you, thought about how good you’d make me feel…”

“Kenpiii,” Nikaido protests, but Senga doesn’t stop, and it only takes another minute to push Nikaido over the edge. He shudders himself out and goes boneless under Senga, and Senga follows him right after, nose buried in the curve of Nikaido’s shoulder and breathing in his familiar smell.

“There we go,” Senga says, momentarily satisfied. He runs his palm over Nikaido’s chest and down his arm, glad to see that Nikaido is no longer so tense all over. “Nice and relaxed, finally.” Nikaido grunts for him to shut up, nose still buried in Senga’s hair and breath tickling Senga’s scalp.

Eventually Senga coaxes Nikaido up for a bath. He spends most of it keeping Nikaido from falling asleep and drowning himself, but it’s worth it when they are both warm and clean, snuggled under Senga’s blankets. Nikaido is out like a light as soon as they’re horizontal, but even in sleep his hands are tight on Senga, and he clutches all the tighter when Senga so much as shifts position.

“Shh, I’m not going anywhere,” Senga soothes, amused. He’s still not sleepy himself, although he feels relaxed and comfortable. He occupies himself catching up with mails on his phone for a little while, until he eventually feels like he might be able to sleep.

He wakes up in the dead of night, the apartment quiet and dark around them, his mother probably long asleep. He feels wide awake, and curses jetlag to himself as he blinks up at his ceiling in the dark. Beside him, Nikaido is snuffling in his sleep, dead to the world, and Senga eyes what little of Nikaido’s features he can see with envy.

Senga wants attention, but he stops himself from waking Nikaido, knowing they have work tomorrow. Instead he rolls onto his side and watches Nikaido sleep a bit, the reddish light from his digital clock enough for his eyes to drift over Nikaido’s slack features, the way his chest rises and falls gently, the bare curve of his shoulder.

He hadn’t meant to wake Nikaido, but his fingers are tracing that curve before he realizes what he’s doing, enjoying how smooth and warm Nikaido’s skin is under his hand.

“Oops,” he whispers when Nikaido stirs under his hand. “Sorry.”

“Nngh.” Nikaido blinks up at Senga balefully before letting his eyes fall shut again. “Th’fuck?” After a second one of Nikaido’s eyes cracks back open. “Were you watching me?”

“I can’t sleep,” Senga protests. “I was trying not to wake you up.”

“Nice job with that.” Nikaido sighs and leans over to nose at Senga’s shoulder. “Also creepy.”

“Like you aren’t four times as creepy. Why aren’t you mailing meeee?” Senga imitates Nikaido’s mail in a nasal whine, then breaks into snickers when Nikaido pokes him hard in the side. “Mm, but it’s fine with me if you’re creepy. I’m glad you missed me too.”

“Why are you so awake?” Nikaido laments, reaching up to brush off Senga’s hand and yank the blankets back over his shoulder. “If I get you off, will you go back to sleep?”

“Can’t hurt to try,” Senga says, immediately interested. He replaces his hand on Nikaido’s skin, drawing fingers down Nikaido’s spine. He scrunches down until his face is level with Nikaido’s and brushes their noses together. “No chance of anything complicated?”

“Can’t this wait until morning?” Nikaido slides a hand down Senga’s stomach until he finds what he’s looking for and wraps it tight around Senga. “‘Cause if this isn’t good enough, I can stop.”

Senga squeaks and hisses a long breath, but doesn’t give in right away. “I’ll do all the work? Ne, I really missed you…” He can’t explain so much why he really doesn’t want to wait until morning, why as close as they are, it isn’t close enough yet. Maybe it’s jetlag or post-vacation letdown, he isn’t sure, but Senga is sure that he wants Nikaido to hold him more tightly, to take care of him. “Please?”

Sighing, Nikaido gives in, shoulders slumping in defeat. “It’s a total lie you’ll do all the work. That’s not what you want at all, is it?”

“No,” Senga admits, voice quiet. Nikaido knows him too well, like usual. “Is it still okay?”

Nikaido doesn’t answer at first, long enough that Senga is just starting to fret when he finally says, “Of course it is, idiot. Not like I don’t want you too.”

Reaching to fumble at his nightstand in the dark, Senga only succeeds in knocking Nikaido’s glasses off of it with a clatter, and Nikaido tells him just to turn the light on already, geez. After a second of squinting at each other in the sudden brightness, Senga turns up the lube and a condom much more successfully.

“Sorry,” he apologizes when he’s on his back and can see clearly the dark circles until Nikaido’s eyes. He bites his lips when Nikaido slides the first finger in. “Aaah.”

“Quit that,” Nikaido admonishes, leaning over Senga both for the better angle and the better view. “If you don’t enjoy it, I won’t forgive you. Want more?”

“Yes,” Senga says right away, too fast. Nikaido eyes him like he knows, but he takes Senga at his word, trusting Senga to tell him if it’s too much. Senga wonders if he would, if Nikaido ever did anything that actually was too much, but then stops thinking about anything except the feel of Nikaido inside him when Nikaido presses in more deeply.

Neither one of them says anything else until Nikaido is pressing Senga into the mattress, elbows on either side of Senga’s shoulders, buried inside him as deeply as he can be. Nikaido leans in to lick at the hollow of Senga’s throat and asks if this is what he wanted.

“Yeah.” Senga tips his head back, eyes squeezed shut. He wraps arms around Nikaido’s neck, tugging them even more tightly together. “Wanted you close.”

“Kenpi,” Nikaido murmurs against Senga’s skin, endlessly indulgent. “You are so doing all the work next time.”

He starts to move then, steady and strong, sending waves of heat and pleasure rolling over Senga’s skin. It isn’t long before Senga is past words, but Nikaido seems to understand his breathless noises without any trouble, moving with him and against him perfectly until he makes Senga go totally to pieces, and following himself soon after.

“Sleepy now?” Nikaido asks, a heavy, sprawled heap on Senga’s chest.

“Mmhmm,” Senga lies, perfectly content to lie there for the foreseeable future and wanting Nikaido to stay exactly where he is, as well. “Nika? I’m really glad to be home.”

“Good,” Nikaido says, already halfway back to sleep, “then remember that next time you plan some harebrained trip to god knows where.”

“You’ll just have to come too next time, okay?” Senga asks, then has to laugh when the only answer he gets is a soft snore.