Kis-My-Ft2, Tomorrow and the Day After That and Always

Title: Tomorrow and the Day After That and Always [Senga/Nikaido]
Rating/Warnings: NC-17
Summary: Nikaido lets Senga have his way, even though it’s really really cold outside.
AN: For snowqueenofhoth who should be working instead of reading it? Lol, posting quick on the train so there might be typos. This was supposed to be all simple and short, fail.

Tomorrow and the Day After That and Always

Nikaido lives far enough out in the middle of nowhere that when it snows, it actually sticks to the ground, delighting Senga. Nikaido hates the cold, but he loves Senga, and so it’s easy enough for Senga to talk him into going out for a walk, bundled up as warmly as they can manage, his mittened hand clasped firmly in Senga’s.

“Wah, pretty!” Senga exclaims when they reach the lightly dusted trees of the park, the snow stretching out clean and undisturbed in front of them. Nikaido eyes Senga’s pink cheeks and bright eyes, and murmurs an agreement that makes Senga’s cheeks flush all the more.

They wander through the places where Nikaido hunts for beetles in the summer, made unfamiliar by the new covering of snow and the weak sunlight of the winter afternoon. Senga is distracted looking up at the trees and stumbles more than once, but Nikaido’s tight grip keeps him from losing his balance and falling onto his face in the snow.

He blinks in surprise when Nikaido pushes him up against a tree trunk suddenly.

“N-nika?” he asks, hushed, as if reluctant to break the peaceful quiet of the scenery. Nikaido doesn’t answer as he steps into Senga’s personal space. Their eyes meet for a long second before Nikaido leans in to press their mouths together.

The kiss is slow and clinging, Senga winding arms around Nikaido’s neck and sighing into it. Nikaido’s lips are winter-rough against his, making him shiver, his breath warm and damp against Senga’s face when he pushes Nikaido back just far enough to talk.

“Somebody might see,” he reminds, not that his grip on Nikaido loosens any. They’re pressed tightly enough together that Senga can feel each breath Nikaido takes.

Nikaido shrugs, nose cold where it’s brushing Senga’s. “Nobody’s out here. It’s cold.” He gives Senga another kiss, and another, pressing him back against the tree. He works a thigh in between Senga’s and rocks their hips together, until Senga starts to get hard. He can feel Nikaido’s answering hardness even through the layers of their coats and jeans.

Suddenly Nikaido breaks the kiss and drops to his knees. Senga opens his mouth to protest, but only manages a low noise when Nikaido presses his cheek to Senga’s zipper, looking up at Senga through his lashes while he does it.

“Keep a lookout then, if you’re worried about somebody seeing,” he suggests.

“Sure,” Senga agrees, but his eyes don’t leave Nikaido’s face. He shivers as Nikaido pulls off one of his mittens with his teeth, tucks it into his coat pocket, and then tugs Senga’s zipper down.

Senga hisses when Nikaido tugs his cock free and the cold air hits his skin, but he slides his mouth over Senga right away, wrapping his hand around Senga’s shaft where his mouth can’t reach the whole way down. Senga flexes his fingers for a few seconds, struggling to swallow his moans, but then reaches down to knock Nikaido’s hat off and get his hands in Nikaido’s hair. Nikaido gives him a wry, silent look, but doesn’t stop what he’s doing.

“Your lips…are gonna chap…” Senga pants, feeling a touch guilty, but that’s nothing compared to how good Nikaido’s mouth feels on him, wet and so hot compared to the chill of the air, the hand that isn’t wrapped tightly around him gripping Senga’s thigh, fingers digging in through the denim. Nikaido sucks him harder, his eyes saying that he could give two fucks about chapped lips at that moment.

Shivering under Nikaido’s hands and mouth, Senga doesn’t make him wait. He reaches his limit quickly, the thrill of being out in the open fizzing in his veins, and lets Nikaido drive him over the edge with only a yank on his hair for warning. Nikaido’s eyes are on him as he swallows around him, and when Senga manages to peel his eyes back open, Nikaido is still watching.

He tucks Senga back in and zips him up, then stands quickly enough that he nearly loses his balance, legs a big shaky, wet patches covering the knees of his jeans. Senga grabs him by the front of his coat and hauls him in for another kiss, humming at how he can taste himself on Nikaido’s lips.

“You got snow in my hat, jerk,” Nikaido breaks the kiss to say, which just makes Senga laugh.

“What about you?” Senga asks, nosing at Nikaido’s cheek. He feels warm all through, despite the low temperature, content and cooperative, but Nikaido shakes his head.

“It’s getting dark.” He glances up at the sky, and when he looks back down at Senga, his eyes are dark with want and mischief. “Let’s go home.”

Night falls quickly, the sky grey with heavy clouds to start with, and it’s almost dark by the time they retrace their steps to Nikaido’s house. They’re cold enough that a hot bath will be unpleasant and not entirely sensible, so they leave their clothes in a damp heap and curl up under Nikaido’s blankets instead, warming each other up with skinship and roaming hands.

“Kenpi…” Nikaido sighs, tipping his head back as Senga presses kisses to his throat. His fingers are stroking down Senga’s spine, coaxing, but Senga does his best to ignore the distraction. He wants to make it up to Nikaido for earlier, to spoil him for once. He licks at the hollow of Nikaido’s throat and grins as Nikaido makes a cute little noise.

He kisses and strokes Nikaido’s skin wherever he can reach until Nikaido is a mellow puddle underneath him. When he has Nikaido practically purring, he leans up to murmur in Nikaido’s ear, “Let me take care of you?”

He can feel Nikaido pause underneath him at the suggestion; Senga tugs at Nikaido’s earring lightly with his teeth, flicks his tongue against Nikaido’s earlobe.

“Please?” he asks, voice softer yet. He brushes fingers over Nikaido’s ribs, a feather-light caress. “I’ll make you feel so good.”

“Okay.” Nikaido’s voice is barely loud enough for Senga to hear, but it makes fierce happiness rush through Senga’s chest that Nikaido trusts him so much, enough to let him have his way.

Senga takes his time about it, dragging lips over Nikaido’s chest and nibbling at his skin until Nikaido is squirming underneath him. When he grunts for Senga to hurry up, Senga lifts his head, but only grins.

“Tell me what you want?” he asks. Nikaido splutters, and Senga blinks innocently. “No?” He drops another teasing kiss, just to the side of Nikaido’s nipple. “Well, if you change your mind then…”

He hides his smile against Nikaido’s skin as he feels Nikaido shiver underneath him at each brush of his lips, and on each glance to the side he can see the way Nikaido is digging his fingers into his futon. Finally, Senga reaches over and takes Nikaido’s wrist, tugging it over until he can wrap fingers in Senga’s hair instead.

“Mm,” he hums, eyes fluttering, when Nikaido does exactly that. “Just ask. Nika, I’ll do anything you ask me to.” A shudder ripples through Nikaido, rubbing him against Senga’s skin all the way down.

Nikaido clears his throat, and when Senga looks up, his eyes are downcast, staring to one side, obviously mortified. “Want your mouth,” he manages, and Senga licks at his skin in encouragement. It at least makes Nikaido look at him, if only to glare. “Lower. On me.”

Senga leans up instead, and Nikaido opens his mouth to protest, but relaxes when Senga kisses him sweetly. Nikaido’s hand is still in his hair, stroking through the strands when the kiss lasts longer than a couple seconds. Eventually the kiss breaks on its own, and Senga rests his weight on his elbows to look down at Nikaido.

“It’s only me,” he assures. Nikaido looks cute flustered, but Senga wants him to know that there’s nothing he should ever be ashamed of, with him. “You can ask anything, always.”

Nikaido hesitates for a second, but then nods once, firmly. Senga rewards him with another quick kiss, and then sets about fulfilling Nikaido’s request.

They’re both pretty well warmed by this point, but Nikaido gasps just as loudly as Senga had out in the cold when Senga wraps his mouth around him. Senga chuckles, the vibration of it making Nikaido whimper, and drags his tongue up the sensitive underside of Nikaido’s shaft just to hear him whine.

“Kenpi,” Nikiado murmurs, low and urgent, hips flexing up against Senga’s hands, and Senga can judge how close he is by how often Nikaido repeats his name. Small wonder since he’s been waiting a while already, but it isn’t long at all before Senga has to lift his head to ask if Nikaido wants to come like this or with Senga inside.

“I already came the once,” Senga assures, brushing kisses against the soft, warm skin on the inside of Nikaido’s thighs, “so I don’t mind waiting until you can go again.”

“Fuck, what?” Nikaido hisses, glaring like how dare Senga try and get him to make a choice like that. But after a second, he grudgingly answers, “Inside.”

Senga would be lying if he said that wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, so he grins and gives Nikaido’s cock a last, slow lick before sitting up to grope for his bag and the necessary supplies. Nikaido lies there on his back meanwhile, taking deep slow breaths and obviously trying to will himself to calm down a little. It doesn’t seem like it’s working, if the intensity of his gaze is any indication when Senga leans back over him.

He isn’t sure how much control he’s going to have either when Nikaido pulls his knees up before Senga even asks, spreading himself out for Senga. He groans softly when Senga pushes the first finger in, head tilting back and eyes squeezed shut, and he looks so good that Senga nearly forgets what he’s doing for a second or two.

Nikaido wince reminds him to pay attention, though, when Senga starts working in more fingers. He rubs gentle circles on Nikaido’s belly for a few seconds before sliding his free hand down to stroke Nikaido’s cock as a distraction. Nikaido is hot and tight around Senga’s fingers, making it difficult not to rush as he thinks about being buried inside him, but Senga grits his teeth and takes his time.

“Are you gonna make beg for this too?” Nikaido demands snappishly, but Senga can hardly take offense, since Nikaido is pushing down on his fingers wantonly by this point, sharpness of his tone obviously from desperation.

“No,” Senga laughs. He pulls his hand free and strokes the crease of Nikaido’s thigh, leaving a slick patch on Nikaido’s skin. “I really want you. Let me in?”

“Yeah, of course, hurry up already,” Nikaido says, voice gruff but hands already reaching for Senga, tugging at his shoulders to pull him closer even before Senga gets himself lined up properly. He works his way inside Nikaido slowly but steadily, until he’s as deep as he can go, before he lets Nikaido pull him down and wrap arms around Senga’s neck. He can feel the way Nikaido’s breaths are short and sharp where their chests are pressed together, and even though they can hardly get any closer, Senga still feels like it isn’t enough.

“Takashi,” Senga groans Nikaido’s name, turning his head to nose at Nikaido’s hair and the curve of his ear. “Mm, tighter, hold on tighter.” Senga hums in pleasure when Nikaido’s fingers dig in, his hands feeling hot even against Senga’s flushed skin. He flexes his hips as much as he can in his position, more of a grind than a thrust, but it makes Nikaido give a soft, beautiful noise against Senga’s throat. “Feel good yet?”

He doesn’t answer, but the way Nikaido arches against him and can’t muffle all of his noises against Senga’s skin is answer enough. Senga keeps rolling his hips just like that, a smooth pulse, and when he manages to work a hand in between them despite Nikaido’s tight grip, he’s hard, tip wet.

“Oh, don’t,” Nikaido pants raggedly when Senga squeezes him in time with the motion of their hips. “Don’t want to come yet.”

“Mm, yeah, okay,” Senga agrees right way. Pulling his hand out from between them, Senga can brace himself on his elbows on both sides to move them together more firmly, weight pressing more squarely down on Nikaido. Nikaido can’t come like this, so far as Senga knows, not from just being fucked, no matter how good it is. It puts him entirely at Senga’s mercy, Senga able to draw it out endlessly, or at least as long as he can stand it himself.

He wonders how long they could go if he had somebody else to switch off with, Kitayama or Miyata maybe, or even Yokoo, and then Senga has to quit thinking about it or else he won’t last more than another minute or two.

“Gonna talk about that later,” he promises, sucking at the skin just behind the hinge of Nikaido’s jaw.

“About what?” Nikaido asks distantly, totally distracted, and then he moans brokenly a second later and seems to forget all about it. They’re too close for Senga to see him properly, but he can imagine it, Nikaido’s eyes squeezed shut and mouth open on a moan as he rubs himself up against Senga’s stomach as tightly as he can.

“Now?” Senga asks when Nikaido’s noises reach a certain pitch. Their skin is slick with sweat, their pace gradually speeding until even Senga’s thighs are starting to tire.

“Not yet,” Nikaido insists. Senga is just starting to think that maybe it’ll be him who has to end it after all when a few seconds later Nikaido changes his mind and finally says, “Yes, okay, yes, please,” and Senga doesn’t make him wait.

He’s trembling as soon as Senga gets a hand back around his cock, and he barely has to do more than hold on as Nikaido thrusts up into his grip before Nikaido is coming against him, squeezing tight enough that Senga only barely manages to keep from coming himself. He wants to work Nikaido through the whole thing, though, so he focuses on keeping the roll of his hips steady and his grip tight, until Nikaido gives a huge shudder and goes totally limp underneath him.

“Kenpi,” he whines almost immediately as Senga pushes himself up higher to actually get a good look finally. Nikaido’s eyes are shut, skin flushed and damp the whole way down, hair a mess, twitching from over-stimulation every time Senga moves inside him. “Fuck, why didn’t you come?”

“‘Cause I wanted to see you properly while I do,” Senga growls, digging his knees in so that he can thrust seriously, finally, gaze raking hungrily over Nikaido while he does it. Nikaido looks so good like this, completely fuckable and like he’s totally been taken advantage of at the same time, and Senga fucks him as hard and deeply as he can while Nikaido’s in no shape to fend him off.

“Hurry, god, just finish,” Nikaido practically sobs, his body shivering with aftershocks around Senga. He’s rambling near-nonsense, and it just makes Senga take him all the harder. “I can’t, it, fuck Kento, pull out, I can’t—”

Senga doesn’t hear what Nikaido can’t do because he’s coming, hard enough that it drags a ragged gasp out of his throat, blood rushing in his ears and white-hot tingling spreading from the base of his spine out to his fingers and toes. When he can manage to draw his next breath, Senga sucks in air like he’s been holding his breath for minutes on end.

Nikaido is calling Senga names and shoving at his chest, obviously uncomfortable and getting panicky under Senga’s weight, and with a supreme effort, Senga manages to roll them onto their sides and pulls out, barely able to control his hips enough even for that.

“Sorry, sorry,” he soothes, gathering Nikaido in as tightly as he can and kissing away the wetness that’s gathered at the corners of Nikaido’s eyes. “Shh, you’re fine really, right? You’re the one that made me wait so long, you know.”

“You did that shit on purpose,” Nikaido growls, sounding mutinous. Senga goes on murmuring quietly at him and stroking warm hands down his spine and over his skin. He knows that Nikaido only gets so panicky after something particularly intense, and the only thing to do is let him cling tightly and call Senga a bunch of names until he calms down.

Eventually Nikaido does calm, enough that Senga can seriously ask if he went too far, if Nikaido is really all right.

“I’ll be fine,” Nikaido says, face buried in Senga’s shoulder and voice muffled. Senga’s thighs are starting to ache dully, and he can’t imagine the shape Nikaido will be in tomorrow morning, but before he can admit that he definitely went too far, Nikaido goes on. “Once in a while, it’s good.” He leans up on one elbow, high enough to eye Senga narrowly. “Once in a long while.”

A rush of emotion closes Senga’s throat unexpectedly, love and the lingering closeness of sex and awe that Nikaido trusts him this much, mixed with the bittersweet taste of guilt, because he feels like he can’t possibly deserve Nikaido, not this much of him, not just after he’s done something like this. He tugs Nikaido close again and manages to whisper an, “I love you,” even if his voice cracks embarrassingly in the middle.

“Yeah,” Nikaido hugs him back just as tightly, “me too,” and Senga thinks he understood, maybe, enough of it. “Now get up, I need to soak in the bath and you are definitely washing my back.”

Senga doesn’t want to get up at all, but he’ll do anything Nikaido asks right then, or maybe always, and if the Nikaido he can take advantage of is hot, the Nikaido who wants skinship in the bath and loves clean futon sheets against his bare skin is cute enough that Senga would totally give up that other stuff in a second, if he had to.

“I know you would,” Nikaido says as they’re settling in to sleep, like he’s reading Senga’s mind. Or maybe just Senga’s expression, since he doubts it’s hiding much of what he’s thinking about like usual. He brushes Senga’s hair out of his face, the heel of his palm grazing Senga’s cheekbone. “That’s why it’s okay.” He gives Senga another sharp look, but it’s milder from sleepiness. “Once in a while, remember.”

“I know, I know.” Senga lets Nikaido arrange their limbs in the way he prefers, then yawns hugely. He finds one of Nikaido’s hands with his own and twines their fingers together. “Once in a while, you should ask for what you want too, though.”

“Hmph.” Nikaido breath stirs the hair on the back of Senga’s neck. “If that’s the case, then…what I really want is…”

“Yeah?” Senga asks, curious. “Tell me, what?”

“Tomorrow I want to stay inside where it’s warm.”

Senga laughs and squeezes their fingers together and promises, yes, he’ll do anything Nikaido wants, tomorrow and the day after that and always.