Kis-My-Ft2, Nobody But You

Title: Nobody But You [Nikaido/Senga]
Rating/Warnings: R for rimming.
Summary: Nikaido interrupts Senga’s interview for a few choice words.
AN: Take a wild guess who made demands for this one. Based on screencaps from the PLAYZONE 2009 DVD backstage footage, as capped here.

Nobody But You

The grin Senga is giving the camera turns into a grimace when somebody seizes the back of his shirt and yanks his collar tight.

“I need to borrow him,” Nikaido’s voice is low and pleasant, and it fills Senga with a different sort of panic as Nikaido drags him off.

“Nikaaa,” Senga chances a whine as soon as they are out of earshot, “I was on camera! What if they put that on the DVD?”

Nikaido doesn’t answer, just keeps dragging Senga along with his hand still fisted tightly in Senga’s shirt. He doesn’t let go until he shoves Senga into their deserted dressing room and yanks the door shut behind them. Then he turns to give Senga a look that makes the hairs on Senga’s arms rise.

Senga decides to play dumb. “What was that all about, Nika?”

“Why does all of TheyBUDOU know where all your bruises are?” Nikaido asks, taking a step towards Senga and making Senga take a step back.

“We change together all the time!” Senga protests. Nikaido’s eyes narrow, but when he steps forward again, this time Senga’s back bumps the wall.

“And why,” Nikaido hisses, “does Yara know exactly how many moles you have on your ass?”

Senga gives up the pretense and offers Nikaido a sheepish shrug. “Yaracchi’s really flexible, ne.”

Nikaido’s hands land on Senga’s hips and squeeze, fingers digging into the bruises that TheyBUDOU know so much about. Senga thinks that isn’t quite fair, though, since Nikaido knows more about them than anybody. They are in the shape of Nikaido’s fingers, after all.

“Yaracchi,” Nikaido growls, and Senga struggles to swallow a whimper, “isn’t allowed to touch you.”

“You gonna stop him?” Senga wants to know, then squeaks when Nikaido digs his fingers into Senga’s hips deeper.

“Nobody should be touching you,” Nikaido repeats, stepping into Senga so that their bodies are pressed snug together, “except me.”

“Nika?” Senga asks, heart starting to skip and heat trickling through his veins.

“Say it,” Nikaido orders. When Senga only blinks at him, Nikaido narrows his eyes. “You’re mine, and nobody gets to touch you but me, so say it.”

“Nobody gets to touch me but you,” Senga repeats, breath catching in his throat at the fire in Nikaido’s eyes. “Nika…”

But before Senga can say anything else, Nikaido steps back, making Senga whine from the loss of his body heat. Nikaido grabs one of Senga’s wrists and uses it to spin Senga around and push him up against the wall; Senga throws his hands up quickly to keep from smacking his nose into it. He makes a quiet noise as Nikaido’s heat presses against his back, Nikaido’s palms smoothing possessively down Senga’s T-shirt and over the waistband of his sweat pants.

“Keep your hands there and don’t move,” Nikaido orders, voice gruff in Senga’s ear, and before Senga can get his wits together, Nikaido is sliding down Senga’s body, to his knees on the floor.

Nothing happens for several seconds, long enough that Senga starts to fidget a little. He wants to turn around, wants to see Nikaido, wants to know what Nikaido’s going to do to him, but as soon as he moves, Nikaido sneaks a hand under the hem of his shirt and pinches Senga’s back hard enough to make him squeak.

“Don’t move, I said,” Nikaido growls, and Senga falls still again.

Senga flexes his fingers against the wall but doesn’t move anything else when Nikaido suddenly tugs his sweatpants and underwear down, just far enough that Senga shivers as the cool air of the room hits his ass. For a moment, nothing else happens, then Nikaido gives Senga’s bare ass a ringing slap, making Senga jump.

“They don’t know about that mark,” Nikaido chuckles darkly, and then he licks a stripe up the handprint he just left on Senga’s skin. Senga gasps at the cool touch against his reddening skin.

“Nika?” Senga whimpers when Nikaido’s mouth trails lower. Nikaido doesn’t answer, but he pushes Senga’s sweats down just a little farther, urges his legs just a little farther apart.

And even though he’d had a pretty good idea where Nikaido was going next, when Nikaido’s mouth presses against Senga’s tailbone, it’s only Nikaido’s hands tight on Senga’s waist that keeps him from jerking away.

“Stop squirming,” Nikaido’s voice is mostly smirk, “like you don’t want it.”

The tip of Nikaido’s tongue teases at the wrinkled edge of Senga’s hole, making Senga’s cock twitch and his eyes squeeze shut. He presses his face against the cool wall, and gives another shaky whimper when Nikaido’s thumbs dig into his skin to spread his cheeks, exposing him.

“Nika,” he begs when Nika doesn’t go any further, but just keeps brushing against the sensitive skin in wet, fleeting touches, “Nika, please.

“Please what?” Nikaido asks casually, then blows a little puff of air over Senga’s damp skin, making Senga struggle uselessly against his grip.

“Please, just,” Senga’s cheeks burn, warming up the wall, “more, Nika, please.”

Nikaido doesn’t disappoint. His tongue presses more firmly against Senga’s skin, slick and hot, and then he pushes the tip of it inside Senga, making him wail. Senga scrabbles at the wall as Nikaido works him open, licking deeper inside of him. He’s hard and getting harder as Nikaido fucks him with his tongue, but he doesn’t dare reach down to adjust himself, and Nikaido is holding him back too far to rub against the wall.

Shaking, Senga starts to beg again, pleas for Nikaido to touch him, do anything to him falling from his lips without him really knowing what he’s saying, but Nikaido just keeps on stroking him with his tongue, sucking and licking at him until Senga’s nearly out of his mind with it. When one of Nikaido’s hands slides forward to rub at his cock finally, Senga gives a sob of relief.

Nikaido’s on his feet suddenly, pressed tight against Senga’s back, and Senga wants to cry in frustration at the sudden loss of Nikaido inside of him, but then Nikaido’s hand is wrapped tight around his cock, stroking him roughly, and Senga lets his hips jerk into Nikaido’s touch and forgets about everything else.

“Next hotel,” Nikaido growls in Senga’s ear, his other arm tightening around Senga’s stomach and crushing him close, “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t even remember your name.”

“Nika,” Senga gasps, “Nika,” and then he comes hard over Nikaido’s hand, hard enough that splashes of color burst behind his eyelids before he goes limp in Nikaido’s grip.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Nikaido warns, wiping his hand off on the stomach of Senga’s T-shirt and tucking him quickly back in. He rocks his own erection against Senga’s ass, making Senga give a befuddled murmur. “You aren’t done yet.”

Senga’s eyelids feel heavy as he blinks them slowly and turns to try and see Nikaido’s face. Nikaido loosens his grip just enough that Senga can turn around, but then crushes Senga back to him once he has. He presses their mouths together before Senga can get a good look at him, pushes Senga back against the wall and makes his eyes flutter shut again.

The kiss is thorough and possessive, stealing Senga’s breath, and he doesn’t even think to care about where Nikaido’s mouth has just been. He lets Nikaido re-explore every inch of his mouth, getting his hands into Nikaido’s hair and tugging until Nikaido’s growling into his mouth, sending curls of pleasure over Senga’s over-sensitive skin.

When they break for air, Senga has just enough time to draw a deep breath and take in the hungry look on Nikaido’s face, before Nikaido puts his hands on Senga’s shoulders and pushes him to his knees.

Senga’s not surprised, nor is he unwilling. He puts his hands on Nikaido’s thighs to steady himself and rubs his cheek against the bulge in Nikaido’s sweats. When he turns his face to breathe open-mouthed over Nikaido’s erection, Nikaido curses and buries his hands tight in Senga’s hair.

“Get on with it,” Nikaido orders, tugging Senga back.

Senga tugs Nikaido’s sweats and underwear out of the way without any further ado, sliding his mouth over Nikaido’s head as soon as his cock springs free and groaning quietly at the taste of salt already leaking from his tip. Nikaido uses his grip in Senga’s hair to tug him forward and back, push-pulling him into the rhythm he wants.

More than willing, Senga goes pliant and lets Nikaido do what he wants, lets Nikaido fuck his mouth, even when Nikaido starts pushing deeper towards the back of his throat. He likes it, likes letting Nikaido have all the control, and focuses only on breathing through his nose and watching Nikaido’s face through his lashes.

Nikaido’s definitely worth watching, his jaw tight as he gets close and his eyes focused only on Senga, watching him hungrily. When their eyes meet, it feels like an electric shock down Senga’s spine, and Nikaido jerks under his hands and mouth. His next thrust bumps the back of Senga’s throat, and then he’s coming, shuddering and tugging on Senga’s hair as Senga swallows around him and then sucks him clean.

When Senga slides his mouth off Nikaido with a wet pop, Nikaido slides down the wall until his butt bumps the floor, knees splayed to either side of Senga. Senga crawls forward into Nikaido’s arms, snuggling against him tight enough that he can feel the shivers of Nikaido’s fading aftershocks. Eventually, Nikaido wraps his arms around Senga’s shoulders and squeezes him tight, and Senga hums as the heat of Nikaido’s touch sinks through his shirt and into his skin.

“Don’t be jealous, Nika,” Senga says, wanting to be sure that Nikaido feels just as safe and good as he does.

“Stop fucking other people and I won’t be,” Nikaido snaps back, grip tightening, but his voice isn’t so sharp anymore, tempered by contentment and Senga’s surrender.

Senga just laughs, low and sweet. “That’s just fooling around. They don’t get to fuck me.” Senga turns his head to brush noses with Nikaido so that he’s sure Nikaido’s looking at him when he says, “Only you get to do that, Nika.”

For a long second, Nikaido just looks at Senga and Senga looks back, letting his feelings for Nikaido show in his eyes. Then Nikaido gives a little snort.

“Idiot,” he says, although he doesn’t fight the quick kiss Senga presses against his mouth. “Can’t you at least call me by my real name?”

“Sure, Nika,” Senga agrees, snuggling deeper into Nikaido’s arms, planning to be good and comfortable for the minute or two before they have to get up and go back to rehearsal. “We can practice it at that next hotel, okay?”

“Hm,” Nikaido says, placated.

Senga waits just long enough for Nikaido to relax before he adds, “So long as you keep your end of the bargain.”