Kis-My-Ft2, No More Wait

Title: No More Wait [Senga/Nikaido]
Rating/Warnings: R for impending drinking and blowjobs.
Summary: Not that Senga ever likes waiting, but Nikaido’s 20th birthday is proving more of a challenge than most.
AN: For both Nikaido’s and snowqueenofhoth‘s (super late) birthdays, even though Nika doesn’t actually turn 20 until next year. Whatever. お誕生日おめでとう、ニカちゃん！

No More Wait

Senga hates waiting. He fidgets waiting for trains and in elevators, watches the clock endlessly during classes, and talks others into standing in long lines for him while he goes on field trips to vending machines or window shops.

He hates it and he isn’t terribly good at it, and it seems like the last few years all he’s done is wait, wait to be old enough, wait to work late, wait to debut, and it drives Senga crazy trying not to notice how slow time goes by because he’s the youngest and always has to wait the longest.

“Aw, Ken-chan,” Nikaido quails a little under the ferocity of Senga’s scowl, “what am I supposed to do, not go out on my birthday because you can’t?”

“But I’m the only one who can’t go!” Senga whines, skirting the question. He tries to school his face into an expression of pleading rather than of temper, but he doubts he’s doing a good job. “Can’t I just come along? I won’t drink, I’ll just…”

“NO,” the oldest three members interrupt him simultaneously. Senga turns to find all of them watching him with narrow eyes. Kitayama looks like he’s refusing on principle, but even Senga can see the worry lurking in Fujigaya and Yokoo’s gazes, and he knows they’re thinking about what will happen to all of them if Senga’s caught out underage, even if it’s just a rumor.

“Mean!” Senga snaps, voice sharper than he means it to be because he knows they’re right and feels guilty, but still, it’s just the waiting. “I swear, I’ll be good!”

But he stops arguing when Yokoo looms over him sternly. He knows who Yokoo is thinking about, knows Yokoo is thinking about what would have happened if he’d been there instead, and Senga doesn’t have the heart to fight with Yokoo in the face of it.

Not that it stops him from having something of a sulk for most of the day. Nikaido gives him a reproachful look when Senga snaps at him for trying to hurry Senga so they can get lunch.

“It is my birthday you know,” Nikaido scowls. “It’s not my fault I’m older than you, so if you want to bitch about it you can take it up with my mother!”

Senga’s shoulders slump and he kicks his skates against the floor. “Sorry, Nika.” And he is sorry, really, so he tries harder to be nice for the rest of the day, to smile when they photograph Nikaido with his cake and to screw around with everyone like normal.

As the afternoon drags on, though, Senga finds it harder and harder not to sulk as he gets tired. He excuses himself to the bathroom, just needing a little break. In the bathroom, he splashes water on his face and shakes his T-shirt to try and get some of his endless sweat to dry, feeling better in the cool, tiled room.

When he comes out, he nearly jumps out of his skin when Nikaido grabs him just outside the door.

“What the hell?!” Senga demands, but Nikaido shushes him and drags him down the hallway, then shoves him into the first empty practice room they come to. He leaves the light off but flips the lock on the door, then turns to grin at Senga. Senga swallows at the predatory glint in Nikaido’s eyes, his heart rate picking up. “Nika?”

Nikaido reaches over to catch at Senga’s wrist. He pulls Senga close enough to wrap arms around his waist, so that they’re pressed together from thigh to chest, and Senga can see the way Nikaido’s pupils are darkening with want even in the dim room.

“You aren’t the only one who wishes you could go out tonight,” Nikaido informs him, then bends his head to kiss Senga. Senga whimpers as the kiss turns rough, and his hands come up to bury themselves in Nikaido’s hair, sliding through the sweat-damp strands and knocking his bobby pins askew.

“Really?” Senga asks, breathless, when the kiss breaks, and Nikaido nods, fingers tight and possessive on Senga’s waist. The fact that Nikaido’s grumpy about it too suddenly makes it a lot less annoying, and Senga crushes their mouths back together for another kiss.

They end up on a pile of dance mats, Nikaido on his back with Senga straddling his waist, because Nikaido is lazy as hell and it is his birthday after all. Senga has Nikaido’s sweats tugged low enough that he can get a hand around Nikaido’s cock and is stroking him from tip to base, hand tight enough to make Nikaido arch against his weight. He’s thinking hard about making Nikaido come just like this, soft noises spilling from Nikaido’s mouth and frustration bright in his eyes.

But then Nikaido orders, “Suck me,” and Senga is obeying before he can even think about it, sliding off the mats so that his knees hit the hard floor with a thump. He ignores the discomfort of the impact and concentrates instead on how hot Nikaido’s skin is against his lips. Salt hits Senga’s tongue and he does a poor job of containing his moan, not that Nikaido’s arguing. Nikaido threads a hand into Senga’s hair and tugs; Senga lets Nikaido do as he pleases, shivering at Nikaido’s hushed murmurs of “Just like that” and “More” until Senga has to drop one hand from Nikaido and work it into his own sweats.

He moans his relief as he gets his hand around his own cock and starts to jerk himself off. Nikaido is close, Senga can feel it in how Nikaido’s skin is trembling and can hear the crack in his voice, and he wonders if he’s going to last any longer than Nikaido does. When Nikaido’s next moan is sharp and barely muffled at all, Senga knows that he isn’t going to last.

“Up,” Nikaido orders suddenly, startling Senga into pulling his mouth off Nikaido and blinking at him in lust-hazed confusion. Nikaido sits up just enough to fist a hand in Senga’s T-shirt and yank him back up onto the mats, but then pushes him back, and then suddenly Senga gets it.

More than willing, he swings his legs around so that his own aching cock is roughly level with Nikaido’s mouth. Nikaido rolls onto his side and yanks Senga’s sweats down, and at the first wet touch of his mouth, Senga shudders from head to toe and forgets entirely what he’s doing, capable only of clinging to Nikaido with the arm that he’s got curled around Nikaido’s waist.

“Oi,” Nikaido reminds after a few sucks, flexing his hips.

“Oh, right,” Senga mumbles, eyes half-closed to slits, and he gets his own mouth back on Nikaido and does his best to keep it there as Nikaido’s control starts to shake. Senga feels his orgasm starting at the tips of his fingers and toes and moans around Nikaido. He tries to hold on, to at least drag Nikaido along with him, but Nikaido slips a hand down the back of Senga’s sweats and runs his fingers down the crack of Senga’s ass, and Senga loses it with a long cry.

“Hmm,” Senga hears Nikaido hum as Nikaido sucks him clean, then Nikaido pulls his mouth away, and Senga can feel the burn of Nikaido’s eyes along his skin. “Now can you concentrate down there, please?”

He supposes he owes Nikaido at least that much, full of post-coital obedience and affection, and Senga focuses what little of his faculties are functioning on making Nikaido feel just as good as Nikaido’s made him feel. Senga lets go of Nikaido’s waist to wrap his hand around the base of his cock and squeezes him tight as he sucks at Nikaido’s tip, and Nikaido arches against him and comes over his tongue.

Senga sucks at him softly until Nikaido shivers himself out, then lets his eyes flutter shut as he rests his forehead against Nikaido’s hip. He feels limp and pleasant and wants nothing more than to curl up and take a nap, but a second later Nikaido is shifting around, sitting up, and Senga drags himself up as well.

“Do we have to go back?” Senga sighs. “I’m tired! And now I’m all sweaty again.”

“Aw, you baby,” Nikaido says to Senga’s mutinous pout, then pulls Senga close for a long, slow kiss. They taste like each other, which is kind of weird and kind of hot at the same time, and Nikaido doesn’t let go until the taste is mostly gone. “Come on, let’s go. The sooner we go back, the sooner practice will be over.”

“You mean the sooner you can go out and get lit, you jerk,” Senga grumbles as they get up, but it’s all for show and Nikaido’s raised eyebrow says he knows it.

“Just wait until your birthday,” Nikaido catches Senga in the doorway to murmur in his ear, “’cause I’m going to do things to you that’ll make drinking the last thing on your mind.”

Senga’s eyes go wide and a shiver rolls down his spine, and Nikaido swallows Senga’s whimper with a quick, rough kiss before shoving him out into the hallway.

They probably won’t even make it the whole way to Senga’s birthday. Senga’s pretty terrible at waiting, after all.