Kis-My-Ft2, Sideswipe

Title: Sideswipe [Senga/Nikaido]
Rating/Warnings: R for what Taipi’s been teaching Senga.
Summary: Nikaido’s back from his first mission and Senga welcomes him back properly.
AN: Written as part of diamondsjack‘s AU Verse, Hi Tech, Low Intel, because she asked me to fill in the porn.

Sideswipe

Senga kept trying to sneak little glances Nikaido’s way, but he wasn’t meeting with much success, since Miyata’s bulk was blocking most of Senga’s view. Nikaido had been quiet since they’d left the hatch and started towards the common room. Senga had seen more than enough of Nikaido at this point to know that wasn’t a good sign.

He just couldn’t figure out why. Nikaido had made it back in one piece, not so damaged as Senga could tell, although he had the telltale stiff gait of a skater who hadn’t been terribly careful about his knees during a fight. Kitayama was still out, but it wasn’t like Nikaido would worry about him, so.

Senga chewed his lip a little. He shifted Miyata’s weight. Stupid government morons. Even unconscious they were a pain in the butt.

“Ne, Nika,” Senga finally whined when it felt like his arm was going to fall off. “Help me!”

“Stop whining, we’re already here,” Nikaido said, stopping in front of the entryway to the common room and pointing. “Just drop him already.”

“Nika!” Senga protested when Nikaido turned and started back down the hallway without another word. Senga stomped into the common room and dropped Miyata on the couch in a heap.

He paused a second to make sure that Miyata wasn’t going to tumbled off onto the floor, since then he’d get yelled at, and while he was looking Miyata over, noticed a spare medkit sitting on the table. Thinking of Nikaido’s limp, Senga grabbed it, then scrambled after Nikaido, rubbing out the kink in his shoulder.

Nikaido barely even grunted when Senga caught up, still staring determinedly ahead at nothing.

“Nikaaaa,” Senga caught at Nikaido’s elbow, and refused to let go even when Nikaido shook him a little. Nikaido still said nothing. “Don’t be like that! You just got back, and I was worried about you!”

“You were?” Nikaido finally asked, but he was still frowning.

“Of course!” Senga frowned right back at him. Honestly, was this guy just as stupid as Miyata?

“Why?” Nikaido’s voice was suspicious, and Senga rolled his eyes.

“You were out with Hiromii!” Senga said, like it explained everything, and when Nikaido’s face remained blank, Senga went on. “Hiromii doesn’t do stuff half-assed. I mean, I’ve seen recordings of times he’s fought and stuff, and I’d have thought he was online if he didn’t suck at online! Plus, he wouldn’t call for backup even if he were dying, so if you got in trouble…Nika?”

Nikaido’s face had screwed up into an even sourer expression. He shouldered Senga off and started walking faster again, deep in thought.

“Geez,” Senga grumbled to himself, practically jogging to catch up. “Nika, what’re you so grumpy about?”

“I’m not grumpy,” Nikaido snapped.

“Then why are you making this face?” Senga screwed up his own features into an exaggerated version of Nikaido’s snarl. Nikaido’s mouth twitched a little, and Senga crowed in triumph and poked him in the cheek.

“Off, get off,” Nikaido went back to scowling, shoving Senga back. Senga thought he’d just go back to brooding, but to his surprise, after a few seconds Nikaido added, “We need to train more.”

“We?” Senga pressed, delighted, but Nikaido didn’t seem to have heard him.

“I’m not anywhere near Kitayama’s level, and you suck worse than deep space, and we can’t be going on missions if I have to spend the whole time looking over my shoulder for…what’re you grinning like that for, you idiot?” Nikaido broke off when he finally noticed the grin splitting Senga’s face.

“You wanna be partners,” Senga breathed, eyes practically little hearts. “Like Hiromii and Taipi!”

“I…what,” Nikaido backpedaled, not honestly sure exactly what kind of partners those two were. “I just don’t want you to get killed, fuzz-head!”

“I really like you too, Nika-chan,” Senga sang, hopping up on his tiptoes to kiss Nikaido’s cheek, and then skittering out of Nikaido’s reach when Nikaido made a grab for him. Senga dashed off down the hall, laughter echoing in the empty hallway, and a second later, Nikaido took off after him.

When Nikaido rounded the corner, the door to their room was open, and when he skidded to a halt in the doorway, Senga was already flopped across his bed, still giggling. Nikaido growled and slapped at the door control, not even waiting for it to slide shut before he pounced on Senga. Nikaido winced as the impact jarred all of his stiffening limbs. He dug fingers into Senga’s ticklish spots, making Senga kick and flail ineffectively.

“Nikaaaa,” Senga begged, breathless and cheeks pink, and Nikaido snatched his hands back like they’d been burned. He turned to his skates instead, fiddling with them with great intent.

Senga just chuckled to himself as he sat up and pushed his hair out of his face. If Nikaido thought he was hiding his own blush…Senga just shook his head as he patted down the blankets for the medkit he’d dropped. Nikaido was awfully cute sometimes.

When Nikaido’s second skate clunked to the floor, he turned to find Senga grinning at him and holding up two handfuls of…something.

“Take off your pants,” Senga chirped.

“What?!” Nikaido edged back an inch. “Why? What are those?”

“Hm?” Senga glanced at his hands and then cracked up all over again. “They’re cold compresses! For your knees, stupid, so take off your pants. Why?” Senga’s guileless grin turned into a smirk. “What did you think I was gonna do to you?”

“Nothing, fuck you,” Nikaido growled, face heating up all over again, and Senga just went on laughing as Nikaido struggled to get loose of his pants. Senga stopped laughing when Nikaido stretched one leg a little too far and his face went tight, and then Senga crawled off the bed to help tug Nikaido’s pants off without any further teasing.

Senga was gentle as he smoothed the compresses down around Nikaido’s knees, but Nikaido still grunted. “Never used compresses before?”

“Not many medkits lying around underground, are there?” Nikaido retorted, but it didn’t have much of his usual bite in it.

“But you skate all the time?” Senga tilted his head. “What did you do about your knees?”

“Sucked it up,” Nikaido informed him, then added, “because I’m not a little baby,” in case there was any question. He blinked when Senga flicked him hard between the eyes.

“Even Hiromii ices his,” Senga said, fire in his eyes. “It’s not very impressive when you can’t walk the next day. Ne,” Senga’s expression immediately smoothed back into soft concern, making Nikaido’s head spin trying to keep up, “are you hurt anyplace else?”

“N–,” Nikaido swallowed his knee-jerk response when Senga eyed him pointedly. “My arm. I think a hook grazed me.”

“Shirt off,” Senga commanded, then laughed when Nikaido grumbled that this was all a ploy to get him naked. “I don’t need a ploy, Nika. You’re easy enough.”

“Hey,” Nikaido started, then cut off with a yelp as Senga sprayed the gash across the back of his arm with disinfectant.

“Aw, poor baby,” Senga sympathized, but he blew over the cut before Nikaido could do much more than growl a little. Senga slapped a patch over the cut. “There!” Senga dropped the medkit over the side of the bed and dusted his hands off. “All set.”

“Well…” Nikaido slouched against the pillows. “Thanks. I guess.”

“Your knees feel better, right?” Senga prodded, stripping off his own shirt and tossing it on top of the medkit.

“I said thanks,” Nikaido scowled. “What do you want, a medal?” He grunted when Senga flopped down against his side, all warm skin and loose limbs.

“Maybe a kiss?” Senga asked, batting his eyes shamelessly. He didn’t really wait for an answer, though, before he leaned in to collect. After only a token shove, Nikaido went pliant and cooperative under Senga, wrapping an arm around Senga’s waist. When Senga licked along Nikaido’s bottom lip, Nikaido opened his mouth obligingly.

Senga hummed happily. He didn’t mind doing all the work, especially not now that Nikaido wasn’t freaking out every step of the way. He brushed fingers over Nikaido’s bare shoulder, trailed them down across Nikaido’s nipple, and Nikaido twitched against him. It made Nikaido bump against Senga’s hip, his interest plain.

“Nika?” Senga asked against Nikaido’s mouth. He trailed his fingers lower, brushing along Nikaido’s ribs. “You’ll let me do what I want to you, right?”

“What?” Nikaido cracked an eye to ask. “I’m hurt, I don’t want to do weird things.”

Senga laughed at how now Nikaido wanted to play the invalid card. “Don’t worry,” Senga kissed Nikaido again, quickly, “you can just lie there.” Senga slipped out of Nikaido’s grip.

“What’re you…” Nikaido trailed off as Senga slid down Nikaido’s body, then bent to nuzzle at the bulge in Nikaido’s underwear, eyes on Nikaido the whole time. “SENGA.” Nikaido was plainly trying to keep his expression scornful and failing miserably. “We’ve done that before, stupid.”

“So what? You like it, right?” Senga asked, the warmth of his breath making Nikaido harden. “Please, Nika?”

“Okay,” Nikaido agreed weakly, then gave a whimper when Senga reached for the hem of Nikaido’s underwear without any hesitation.

Senga was careful of the compresses on Nikaido’s knees as he tugged them off, occasionally sneaking glances to make sure Nikaido was still watching him, but he needn’t have worried. Nikaido was definitely not thinking about anybody or anything else as Senga got comfortable with a hand wrapped around Nikaido’s cock and gave the tip a teasing lick.

“Hm,” Senga hummed to himself as Nikaido made a high-pitched noise. Senga watched Nikaido’s face through his bangs as he lowered his head for a more prolonged taste, and Nikaido stared back, eyes wide like he was trapped.

Senga didn’t fool around; as good as Nikaido felt on his tongue, the cold compresses digging into Senga’s skin on either side wasn’t Senga’s idea of a good time. He ignored them as best he could in favor of paying attention to Nikaido shivering underneath him, to the low noises Nikaido was making and the way that one of his hands had found its way into Senga’s hair, tugging on the strands, making Senga moan back.

“Hey,” Nikaido gasped, tugging on Senga’s hair harder and making his eyes slit with pleasure, “leggo, I’m gonna…”

Although Senga wouldn’t have minded swallowing, he let Nikaido pull him off, wanting to watch this time. He tightened his hand around Nikaido, and it only took a half a dozen more strokes for Nikaido to come, streaking his own stomach.

Nikaido gave a weak moan when Senga leaned over to lick one of the streaks clean.

“Mm, Nika,” Senga purred, running his tongue over his lips and watching Nikaido’s eyes track the movement. “Next time let me taste you, okay?”

“Stop saying weird shit,” Nikaido ordered, voice thin. “Get up here, freak.”

Senga scrambled up immediately, not surprised when Nikaido got both hands in Senga’s hair to yank him down for a rough, searching kiss, apparently not nearly as weirded out by tasting his own come as by Senga doing it.

Not that Senga minded. He melted under the attention, arching shamelessly up against Nikaido and rubbing his own cock against Nikaido’s stomach. He only tore his mouth away when Nikaido rolled fully on top of him.

“Your knees,” Senga tried to warn, panting.

“Fuck ’em,” Nikaido growled as he rocked down into Senga, making Senga squeeze his eyes shut and moan.

Senga hadn’t stripped his own pants off at the same time as he’d pulled off his shirt, a fact which he was now desperately regretting, but he stopped thinking about it when Nikaido worked a hand inside them and fisted his cock. The angle was awkward, but Senga was too close to care, and he buried his face against Nikaido’s shoulder to muffle his cry as he thrust up into Nikaido’s fist and came himself.

A little while later, after Nikaido had been rolled onto his back and his compresses examined, and Senga had been divested of his pants, Senga interrupted Nikaido’s well-deserved nap with a poke.

“Nngh.” Nikaido kept his eyes firmly shut. “What?”

“You won’t have to worry about me, you know,” Senga said. Nikaido grunted. “No, really. Cause Taipi’s a good teacher! He teaches me all kinds of stuff.”

Nikaido cracked an eye. “Stuff?” he demanded. “What sort of stuff? Because it isn’t like he’s been teaching you to skate or fight!”

When Nikaido turned his head enough to eye Senga, Senga was giving him a look of perfect, completely fake innocence. Nikaido glared harder until Senga cracked.

“Well, it isn’t bad stuff,” Senga said, then went on blathering when Nikaido’s expression darkened. “Like that thing I just did, you liked it, right? I bet you’re glad Taipi helped me pract…”

“Stop talking,” Nikaido ordered. Senga was happy to obey, especially since Nikaido enforced his commands by pinning Senga’s wrists to the mattress and kissing him possessively.

“Don’t be jealous, Nika,” Senga murmured, heat rushing through his veins when Nikaido tightened his grip. “You can always practice with Hiromii.”

“If we’re gonna be partners,” Nikaido growled, making Senga’s eyes widen, “then you can’t practice with anybody unless I’m there too, got it?”

“Yes,” Senga exclaimed almost before Nikaido was done speaking, eyes lit up like skates on a power line, and he was more than willing when Nikaido closed the matter by making Senga forget that anybody else even existed.