Kis-My-Ft2, Luck of the Draw

Title: Luck of the Draw [Nikaido/Senga]
Rating/Warnings: NC-17 for reversi and bungee jumping.
Summary: Nikaido seems to get the shaft at every turn during Kisumai’s trip to Macau, but at least Senga can make it enjoyable.
AN: the_kouhai wanted reversi NiSen, so I started this ages ago and finally got it done. Thanks to timeripple for looking it over when the ending refused to…end. Also pretty much all of this is directly from the TakiCHANnel episodes about Kisumai in Macau, including the moth incident, so as usual the best stuff is the junk I’m not even making up.

Luck of the Draw

“We’re switching roommates for Macau,” Fujigaya said, looming over them with his arms crossed to say that he meant business.

Ft2 looked back up at him from their stretching, unimpressed.

“Says who?” Nikaido wanted to know, pushing down on Senga’s shoulders until Senga squeaked in protest. “I totally don’t want to do that.”

“Troublesome,” Tamamori agreed, barely even putting up a pretense of stretching. He’d done half a sit-up before his head landed on Miyata’s thigh and he’d stopped there.

“Says me,” Fujigaya loomed harder. “And Mitsu, and Watta. This is our first photobook and they’re going to be photographing us all the time and there’s filming for TakiCHANnel too, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let your hormones get us fired now.”

“Aw, Taipiiiii,” Senga whined, although it was muffled since Nikaido was still casually pressing him into the floor.

“No whining,” Yokoo scolded Senga gently. “What if they come into our rooms as a surprise in the middle of the night?”

“Tcht, why the hell would they do that?” Nikaido demanded. “What is this, a Coat West shoot?”

“That’s exactly what it’ll be if we let you brats pick your roommates,” Kitayama cut off Nikaido’s complaints, using his foot to shove Nikaido up and off of Senga.

“So we’ll make it something cute instead,” Fujigaya breezed through their objections. “We’ll draw straws for it, it’ll be good for the TakiCHANnel video. Right?” Fujigaya raised an eyebrow and cracked a knuckle.

“Right,” chorused Ft2, with varying levels of discontent. The discontent only increased when Kitayama said that with that decided, it was time to get to work already, all except for Senga, who hopped up so quickly that it knocked Nikaido flat on his back.

“But, hey, Tama-chan,” Miyata consoled a still-frowning Tamamori, “maybe one of us’ll get Kitamitsu as a roommate, and then we’ll have the TakiCHANnel video cameras, so…”

“What did I just SAY?!” Fujigaya demanded, whacking both of them over the back of the head and making Tamamori complain that he hadn’t done anything at all.

*****

The biggest regret of the entire trip would turn out to be that they didn’t manage to get Nikaido’s face on camera in the moment when he realized that he would be the only one without a roommate.

“We got him just after, though?” Miyata said, watching the playback on the tiny video camera’s screen. Tamamori was leaning in with his chin on Miyata’s shoulder to see as well, chuckling at Nikaido’s pain. “It’s still pretty good.”

“The first second was definitely best,” Kitayama shook his head, only grinning harder when Nikaido gave him a black glare. “Aw, don’t worry, Nika-chan, I’m sure there won’t be that many ghosts or anything in your room~.”

“Fuck you,” Nikaido hissed, then rounded on Fujigaya. “You set this up, I know you did.”

“I didn’t, I didn’t!” Fujigaya held up his hands, but he was snickering too much to make it very convincing. “I swear it’s a coincidence.”

“We’ll make them give you a stuck-together room,” Senga insisted, making question marks pop up over half the group’s heads, “won’t we, Watta?”

“An adjoining room,” Yokoo corrected. “And we’ll see, I suppose.”

“And we’ll check for ghosts and everything!” Senga assured, heartfelt.

“Fuck, I hate all of you,” Nikaido only slumped deeper into his seat, “so fucking much.”

*****

They did manage a stuck-together room after all, the staff obliging Yokoo’s polite request and Senga’s big eyes more than Nikaido’s grumbled demand, but he said thank you nicely enough when they handed over his key and told him the people he was stuck together with was Senga and Yokoo.

“See, it’s not all bad,” Senga said when they were standing in front of their doors, Nikaido struggling to slide the keycard at the exact speed the reader wanted while Yokoo did theirs effortlessly on the first try. Senga gave him a showy wave as he trailed Yokoo into their room. “See you later, Nika!”

Finally shouldering the door open with a grunt, Nikaido took two steps inside and dropped his bag with relief, but hadn’t even got the door shut before there was a knock on the door that connected his room to the other one.

He pulled it open to find a beaming Senga waving, now with both hands. “Hi, Nika!”

“Idiot.” Nikaido rolled his eyes and turned away, but he left the door open as he went to push the hallway door shut, and he smiled just a little when he heard Senga trot across the carpet behind him.

By the time Kitayama was in the hallway calling them to hurry up for food, Senga had pronounced Nikaido’s closet and all of his drawers ghost-free.

“Say thank you,” Senga demanded when Nikaido just called him an idiot again, crossing his arms and blocking the doorway when Nikaido went to leave. “Properly,” he warned when Nikaido opened his mouth.

Nikaido shut his mouth, then leaned forward to brush their noses together and kissed the corner of Senga’s mouth. “Like that?”

“Mm, close,” Senga said, turning his head to press his mouth fully against Nikaido’s, uncrossing his arms and hooking fingers in Nikaido’s belt loops to drag him closer.

“See, this is exactly what we’re talking about!” Kitayama snapped from the doorway to Yokoo and Senga’s room.

*****

The food was awesome and Nikaido had been starving, but he was still tired from the trip to Macau, and it was more exhausting to be out when you were getting filmed the whole time. By the time they came back to their rooms, Nikaido kicked off his shoes and flopped face-first on the bed, vowing just to rest for a second before drifting right off.

A rustling noise near his bed woke Nikaido up halfway, just enough that at the next weird noise, his skin prickled and his heart started pounding. When he pulled his face up out of the blankets, eyes blurry from falling asleep with his contacts in, he found himself face-to-face with a pale specter with bloodshot eyes.

Giving an ear-piercing shriek, Nikaido scrambled backwards as fast as he could and ended up falling off the bed with a crash, dragging the blankets off with him.

“Nika! Oh god, are you okay? Nika!”

Tugging the blanket down from his face cautiously, Nikaido snarled when he blinked enough sleep out of his eyes to realize that it was Senga on the bed looking down at him.

“Kento, what the fuck?!” Nikaido sat up, rubbing his shoulder and kicking at the blankets he was tangled in. “What the fuck is on your face?”

“On my…” Senga reached up to touch the white smeared across his forehead and cheeks. “Oh! It’s the facial treatment, I forgot I had it on.”

“And what’s wrong with your eyes?”

“I rubbed some in my eyes when I put it on,” Senga admitted sheepishly. “You aren’t hurt, right? I’m sorry, Nika.”

“I’m fine,” Nikaido growled, standing up and swallowing a wince as he felt around his hip and hoped that wouldn’t be a ridiculous bruise because then he’d have to do whatever crazy bullshit they were planning to do to Fujigaya because he wouldn’t strip. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Eh…” Senga chuckled nervously, edging away when Nikaido’s glare intensified. “I came in to make sure there weren’t any moths?” Senga’s voice warbled a little. “You know, because you’re…” the first snicker escaped, “…so scared of them…”

“It was scary!” Nikaido barked, making Senga giggle harder. “Stop laughing! I’m going to kill you!”

“No, not the face!” Senga demanded, laughing even harder, too hard to really defend himself as Nikaido climbed up onto the bed to start slapping at him. “Staff said no fighting! No bruises!”

“I’ve got bruises all over, you asshole!” Nikaido retorted, shoving Senga down onto his back with the force of his attack. Senga’s face was turning bright red and he was gasping for air around his breathless laughter. “You’re the one who came in here, dressed up like a fucking ghost!”

“It’s my facial treatment! I said I was sorry!”

“OI,” Yokoo shouted from the doorway, making both Nikaido and Senga freeze mid-slap. “What the hell are you idiots doing?! Other people are trying to sleep in this hotel! Senga, get back in our room.”

“He scared me!” Nikaido accused, pointing. “I was trying to sleep!”

“Aw, I was just checking for moths,” a snicker escaped Senga’s penitent expression, “or ghosts…”

“Now, Senga.”

“Okay, okay.” Senga scrambled out from under Nikaido, then paused and turned back throw arms around Nikaido’s neck in a quick hug. “Sorry I scared you.”

“Whatever,” Nikaido grumbled, swallowing a sigh when Senga let go and scampered out, in the direction Yokoo was pointing. Nikaido eyed Yokoo’s white-covered face. “You look like an idiot, you know.”

Yokoo gave him a sharp smile, showing off just a touch of fang. “Sleep tight, Nika-chan. Aaaall alone in your big, dark room.”

“Fucker,” Nikaido said to nobody after the door had closed, then went to take out his contacts before he crawled back into bed and pulled the covers tight over his head.

*****

The way he collapsed dramatically to the floor after the bungee jump drawing was not entirely comedic melodramatization. Nikaido’s heart was trying to crawl out his throat at even the thought of it, and his knees wobbled when he tried to push himself back up.

“I swear I didn’t rig this,” Fujigaya murmured in an undertone while Tamamori and Miyata distracted the camera staff. He looked entirely apologetic as he offered Nikaido a hand back up. “Look, let’s do it again, we’ll re-film.”

“It’s fine,” Nikaido grunted, chanting it to himself in hopes of making it truer, looking across the group to where Senga was staring at him with huge, terrified eyes. “It’s fine, I said!” he hissed when Fujigaya didn’t shut up right away.

Fujigaya shut his mouth, but it was drawn in an unhappy line. “Nika…”

“I drew it, fair and square. I can take it.” His knees were threatening to buckle again, but Nikaido forced them steady and thought about the kind of disaster they’d have on their hands if Senga drew the short paper next time and they made him cry on camera. “Stop making that face before they turn the camera back this way.”

Fujigaya gave one little nod and then smoothed his expression back out before Nikaido could even blink, and then the camera was back on them as predicted. Most of it would probably get edited out anyway, Nikaido figured, since nothing super exciting was likely to happen on the way to the…he swallowed and stopped himself thinking about it.

“Nika,” Senga hissed as they fell into step, and Nikaido couldn’t even look at the face he was making, just kept his eyes straight ahead.

“Shut up, shut up, don’t talk about it,” he ordered, and Senga obeyed, at least. The whole group was falsely jovial around him, and Nikaido hoped the camera wouldn’t pick that up just to give himself something else to worry about for a couple seconds. Fans wouldn’t probably notice, but he recognized immediately the sharp edge to Miyata’s laugh and the fake ring of Kitayama and Fujigaya’s banter.

They were definitely worried, but Nikaido tried to ignore it, and the way they all kept touching him, fleeting hands on his shoulder or elbow or the small of his back, too fast for the camera to catch, but enough to leave spots of fading warmth on Nikaido, enough to make his skin raise in goosebumps at the tickle of it.

I swear to god, he said to himself silently after he’d let the staff get him set up and push him out on the ledge, trying not to look down or out or anywhere, I swear to god, if I get killed, if we do not even debut after this…

His thoughts were interrupted by the staff member telling they were going to push him, no he couldn’t go when he wanted, and suddenly all of Nikaido’s terror ignited into rage, but he’d barely snarled two curse words before they shoved him as they had promised too, and then Nikaido’s stomach was somewhere around his knees and he couldn’t get any air to breathe, much less curse.

By the time they got him the whole way down, Nikaido was too shaky from adrenaline to even walk in a straight line, and he barely made it back inside before he collapsed next to a pillar and had to put his head down on his knees. A staff member was standing next to him, asking whether he was going to cry or be sick or hyperventilate or anything else, but Nikaido ignored him and struggled just to draw a couple breaths.

In the end he only crawled to his feet, both hands on the pillar, because he knew that if he didn’t meet back up with the others pretty quickly, Senga really would cry or hyperventilate.

Later on he would be surprised at how normal he looked on the tape, even if his answers were a little monosyllabic, but he chalked it up to idol training. Truthfully, all he remembered about it was Senga’s hands grabbing at his and holding on tight, how clammy they were and how he could feel Senga shaking just as hard as him. Miyata and Kitayama’s hands on the back of Senga’s T-shirt were keeping him from doing anything unfilmable. As soon as the camera was switched off, Fujigaya and Yokoo teaming up to bully the staff, Senga jerked out of their grip and threw himself at Nikaido, nearly sending them both to the ground.

“I’m fine, okay, I’m fine,” Nikaido assured, but Senga only squeezed him harder with arms wrapped tight around his back, tight enough that Nikaido could feel Senga’s heart racing with panic, and he would have asked why the hell Senga felt even more scared than him…

…except that he knew exactly why, and the picture his imagination supplied of Senga out there on that stupid ledge made him clutch just as tightly at Senga.

“Nikaaa,” Senga whined softly against Nikaido’s shirt, and Nikaido murmured for him to shut up, he was right here, right here.

*****

“We have a long day tomorrow,” Yokoo warned, looking Nikaido over with sharp eyes, “so try and get at least some sleep, idiots.”

And then he shoved Senga into Nikaido’s room and closed the adjoining door with a firm click.

“And I don’t want to hear anything either!” Yokoo called through the door. Nikaido rolled his eyes, because 500 yen would get you a thousand that Yokoo was going right over to Fujigaya and Tamamori’s room in the next minute and a half.

Not that Tamamori wasn’t probably already in Kitayama and Miyata’s room anyway.

“Hey,” Senga said, dressed in just an old T-shirt and sweatpants, soft from wear, hair still damp from the shower.

“Hey,” Nikaido echoed. Senga came close enough that Nikaido could get his hands on him, finding out the T-shirt felt just as soft as it looked. He smoothed his hands over Senga’s back, brushing the ridges of Senga’s shoulder blades and the bumps of his spine, making Senga’s eyes flutter.

“Mm, Nika,” Senga murmured, wrapping arms around Nikaido’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss. He hummed encouragement into Nikaido’s mouth as Nikaido kept his hands moving over Senga’s back, down to his waist, and then Senga pushed his hips up into Nikaido’s to try and coax him lower.

Nikaido cracked an eye when Senga started tugging them in a direction that was not his bed. “Kenpi?”

Senga stopped in front of the window, and Nikaido shifted nervously at the reminder of how high up their rooms were, even safely behind the glass.

“Shh.” Senga twisted in Nikaido’s arms until his back was pressed against Nikaido’s chest, tugging Nikaido’s arms around his waist. “It’s pretty, right?”

Senga pressed warm against him, between him and the window, Nikaido took another look and could admit that yeah, all the lights blinking in the dark, the city spread out under them, it was a really nice view.

“I just wanted you to have a couple good memories from Macau,” Senga said softly, and Nikaido tightened his grip, heart speeding up from more than just the height. “Ne, I want you.”

“Uh-huh.” No news there, Nikaido thought, brushing lips over the curve of Senga’s neck and making him tilt his head to give Nikaido more room.

“Right here, I want you like this,” Senga clarified, then refused to budge when Nikaido took an instinctive step back. “Don’t worry, it’s safe.”

“You’re scared of heights too, moron,” Nikaido chided, giving the view another dubious look. “And besides, what if somebody looks up here and sees?”

“They’ll just see me. They won’t know who I’m having such a good time with.” Senga chuckled, obviously amused by the thought. He braced his hands on the window ledge and pushed back against Nikaido, his ass rubbing teasingly against Nikaido. “And the view’s really good, right? We should enjoy it.”

Nikaido groaned softly, and then just gave in; it was Senga’s own fault if he wanted to get fucked up against some cold glass, and the position did have some appeal. Ordering Senga to stay right where he was, Nikaido peeled himself off of Senga’s back to go hunt through his bag for supplies, returning with a small tube of lube and a couple condoms.

“Pants off, but,” Nikaido eyed the window again, “leave the shirt on. Maybe anybody who looks will think you’re just enjoying the view. A lot.”

“Nobody’s gonna see, worrywart,” Senga laughed, doing as Nikaido said. “We’re on like the millionth floor.”

“Let’s please not talk about that,” Nikaido grumbled, stripping off his own clothes, all of them, while his hands were clean, and kicking them and Senga’s pants out of the way so nobody tripped and gave himself a concussion. Again. When he looked up, Senga was looking over his shoulder, eyes dark, gaze dragging slowly up Nikaido’s skin. “What?”

“Tan lines,” Senga said, amused, but his eyes sure weren’t lingering around the lines in question. “Mm, Nika, hurry up.”

Narrowing his eyes, Nikaido flipped the cap on the lube and gave Senga exactly what he had asked for, smirking when Senga hissed at the coldness of the gel. He pushed back against Nikaido’s finger almost immediately, though, begging for more, and Nikaido reached around with his other hand to stroke Senga’s hardening cock to keep him distracted.

Senga always made the best noises when Nikaido took it slower than he wanted, his voice low and soft and pleading for Nikaido to do things to him, anything he wanted, the way he kept repeating oh, oh making Nikaido shiver along with him.

“Ready?” Nikaido asked when he could barely stand it, and Senga pushed his hands away and said that if Nikaido didn’t fuck him right now, he was going to find Kitayama and Miyata after all. “The hell you are,” Nikaido growled in his ear as he lined himself up, “you’re all mine.”

“Nika,” Senga gasped, arching and pushing back against Nikaido, and Nikaido had to grab Senga’s hips to keep him from shoving himself all the way onto Nikaido all at once. He moaned when Nikaido’s grip tightened, his own fingers tightening on the edge of the windowsill. “Fuck, more, Nika.”

“Mine.” Nikaido stopped halfway in and pulled back, almost the whole way out, the drag of it making Senga whine his name again. “Only I can have you, say it. Say it,” he repeated, warning, barely inside Senga at all and holding him still until he got what he wanted.

“Yours,” Senga gave him his way immediately, “just yours, please, oh,” and then Nikaido let go of Senga’s hips and let him push back until Nikaido was buried as deeply inside as he could go, Senga hot and slick and shivering around him.

Nikaido didn’t move at first, just wrapped his arms around Senga to pull him up, tight against his own chest, burying his nose in the back of Senga’s hair.

“Come on,” Senga said after a few breaths, pushing at Nikaido’s arms, but Nikaido just hummed at the feel of Senga moving against him. “I’m yours, so just have me already!”

“So good,” Nikaido whispered in Senga’s ear, letting Senga finally push his hand back down to Senga’s waist and starting to move, just a flex of his hips at first. “Sound as good as you feel.”

“Bet it looks even better,” Senga said in reply, giving in to Nikaido’s thinly veiled encouragement to keep talking. “You pushing into me, fingers leaving marks on my skin…I hope they can see it down there.”

“Kento…” Nikaido knew that it was all a shameless ploy to get him to go faster, to make him lose control, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t working.

“They’d be jealous, mm, if they could.” Senga leaned back against Nikaido with his whole weight, letting Nikaido have all the control. His eyes weren’t closed like Nikaido had thought they would be, just very low-lidded, still open enough to see the scenery below, the blink of buildings and the crawl of the cars.

“Jealous of me?” Nikaido asked just to keep Senga going. He was close already, with the several days they’d been in constant contact with no privacy, with Senga’s surrender and the sound of his voice, rubbing over Nikaido’s skin just as much as his body.

“Nope.” Senga reached up with one arm and wrapped it around the back of Nikaido’s neck to hang on more tightly. “Jealous of me.” Senga gave a breathy moan as Nikaido’s angle shifted just so. “Just like that…”

“Fuck,” Nikaido groaned into the curve of Senga’s neck, hips snapping out of his control, struggling to hold out just a little longer. He reached for Senga’s cock with one hand, but Senga pushed it back to his hip with his own free hand.

“Just come on already,” Senga said, eyes fluttering shut when Nikaido tightened his grip. “You want to, right? Taka…”

That was all Nikaido could handle, and driving into Senga with a last uneven thrust, he let the rush of his orgasm take him over, trusting Senga to support him when he swayed with the force of it. Senga moaned softly along with him, shivering with sympathetic aftershocks.

“Hey,” Nikaido mumbled after a minute of gathering himself, getting a vague hum out of Senga, “why didn’t you let me…”

“‘Cause I want you too,” Senga answered, making another shudder press Nikaido tight against Senga’s back. He tilted his head back to see Nikaido’s face as best he could. “You’ll let me, right? You should definitely let me.”

“Are you asking me?” Nikaido wanted to know. “Or telling me?”

Senga seized Nikaido’s mouth, the angle awkward, but it didn’t matter. The kiss was all rough possession and sharp edges of Senga’s teeth, Senga tugging Nikaido’s head down with the arm still wrapped around the back of his neck, letting his strength show.

He pulled back, licking his bottom lip, chasing the taste of Nikaido. “You’re mine too, so I’m definitely going to have you.”

“Thought you wanted the view,” Nikaido said, voice bratty even as he was crawling up on the bed like Senga had told him too, stretching himself all out on his back.

Senga yanked his shirt over his head in a quick, rough motion, tossed it aside. His gaze raked over Nikaido the same way. “My view’s good enough, for sure.”

“Kento,” Nikaido shifted against the blankets, heat and embarrassment both warming his skin, “just get down here already.” Senga was more than agreeable to that, draping his body over Nikaido’s so that the heat of his skin was sinking into Nikaido’s from shoulder to toes, higher still when Senga leaned in to lick his way into Nikaido’s mouth.

They didn’t switch very often, Senga pleased enough generally by Nikaido’s attentions to let him have his way nearly always, but that just meant that when they did, Senga put all the more effort into it. He ran his hands and mouth over all of Nikaido until Nikaido felt like he was melting from it. Dizzy with heat, Nikaido growled for Senga to get on with it already.

“No way,” Senga murmured, pressing another open-mouthed kiss to Nikaido’s belly. A swipe of his tongue made Nikaido shudder. “Wanna make you feel what I feel.”

“Shit,” Nikaido groaned, thinking of how long he usually liked to tease Senga. “Aw, come on, Kenpi, please? It feels really good, I just want you, okay?”

“Well…” Obviously not above flattery, Senga looked up to meet Nikaido’s eyes, the heat and want in his eyes making Nikaido whine. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Senga resettled himself farther down, licking and sucking at Nikaido’s cock while he worked him open, urging one of Nikaido’s legs over his shoulder to give him more room to work. It felt good, Nikaido sprawled on his back with his eyes closed, focusing on Senga’s mouth rather than his fingers, but he still wasn’t more than halfway hard by the time Senga had him ready.

“Too soon?” Senga asked, nuzzling the base of Nikaido’s cock, and Nikaido hummed.

“Yeah,” Nikaido pushed down into Senga’s touch, “but just do it, I want you.”

“Nika,” Senga said in warning, but he didn’t fight when Nikaido pulled himself up enough to tug at Senga by the armpits, sliding himself down further.

“You won’t last anyway,” Nikaido said with a shrug, making Senga narrow his eyes, but it was definitely true, as long as Senga had been waiting.

“I could last,” Senga grumbled, taking his hands off Nikaido just long enough to get a condom on, but even stroking that onto himself made his eyes flutter.

“Right, sure,” Nikaido soothed, reaching up to stroke Senga’s hair and urge him on, scratching fingers against Senga’s scalp. “I’m ready, let’s go already.”

And even if he wasn’t going to get off on it, it still was good, more than, to have Senga so close, strong over top and inside of him, Senga bracing himself on his elbows and curling arms over Nikaido’s shoulder to pull them tight against each other. Nikaido focused on that instead of the burn, Senga’s warmth soaking into his skin, Senga’s forehead pressed against his own and his breath warm against Nikaido’s mouth.

“Okay?” Senga asked, voice tight.

“Mmhmm.” Nikaido wrapped legs tight around Senga’s waist, drawing him deeper, closer. He picked his head up enough to press their mouths together, the kiss breaking over and over around both of their pants for air. “S’good, come on.”

“You asked for it,” Senga said with a low laugh, and then he dug his knees into the mattress and drove into Nikaido so that he dug fingers into Senga’s shoulders.

“Don’t stop,” Nikaido ordered. He let his head fall back, moaning softly when Senga bent his head to suck at the hollow of his throat. “Fuck, Kento, should let you, fuck, more often.”

Senga laughed breathlessly against Nikaido’s skin, apparently liking that idea well enough, if the way he sped up was any indication. Sweat was slicking Senga’s skin, making Nikaido’s grip slip, so he let his hands slide down to squeeze at Senga’s biceps instead, thumbing the hard lines of his muscles, sometimes moving them over to get at Senga’s nipples, or up to trace the sharp edges of his collarbones.

And as predicted, it wasn’t long before Senga reached his limit, giving a last couple shaky thrusts before spending himself as deeply inside Nikaido as he could. He balanced there on trembling arms for one last, shuddering breath, and then collapsed as a boneless weight on top of Nikaido.

“Shh.” Nikaido clung to Senga more tightly when Senga tried and failed to move, holding him in place. “Stay still a second, moron, I’m fine.”

“M’heavy,” Senga tried to protest, but then gave in with a sigh when one of Nikaido’s hands found its way back into his hair, combing through his sweat-damp curls. “Nn, did you mean it? You said…”

“You’re definitely doing it again in a bit,” Nikaido informed Senga. “When you’ve got half a chance of lasting until you can get me off.”

Senga twitched inside Nikaido, making both of them hiss, and then Senga was pushing himself up for a rough, messy kiss, both of them struggling for control of it until Senga slipped out of Nikaido with their wrestling, and then Senga pulled away to help soothe the ache out of the backs of Nikaido’s thigh with strong, warm hands.

Eventually they crawled out of bed to clean up a little and to throw their T-shirts and sweatpants back on, even though, as Senga pointed out, it wasn’t like they had to be naked for it to be suspicious if the staff really did come back in and found them curled up in their tight knot under Nikaido’s sheets.

“Shut it.” Nikaido scrunched himself down a little more comfortably against his pillow, Senga a warm weight draped over his side. “They’re the ones that keep making us paint murals with our names in hearts and junk like that.”

“You love it.” Senga gave a wide yawn, snuggled just a bit closer. “So it wasn’t all a bad vacation, right? Because we did eat a lot of good stuff and got to make a whole photobook, and the pool was really nice, right?”

“I guess,” Nikaido pretended skepticism. “You might have to convince me more. After a couple hours’ sleep,” Nikaido amended when Senga shifted immediately, and Senga relaxed again, chuckling. “Are you trying to kill me? But if Taipi thinks we’re drawing lots for seats on the plane, I’m going to make him eat all his damn little papers.”

“Hm,” Senga agreed, voice already soft with sleep, “maybe we’ll even get to finish the movie this time.”

*****

“What did I tell you about getting some sleep?” Yokoo asked them at breakfast the next morning, eyeing Nikaido’s uncomfortable shifting of his weight on his chair and Senga’s guileless grin from under ringed eyes.

“Like you look any better,” Nikaido retorted, and Yokoo cleared his throat and tugged his T-shirt collar over to hide a suspicious mark. Behind him, Tamamori and Fujigaya were both giving showy yawns as Miyata tried valiantly to get some more film with the TakiCHANnel camera.

“Successful vacation for all then,” Kitayama summed up on his way by with a plate of fruit. “Miyacchi, would you just give up with that? Not a single one of you idiots is in any shape to be filmed.”

“Other than you?” Miyata swung the camera Kitayama’s way, and it didn’t hide his grin one little bit. “You certainly look well-rested, Kitamitsu. Any tips for the rest of us?”

“Don’t share a room with Senga,” Yokoo snorted. Kitayama just popped a strawberry in his mouth and winked for the camera; Nikaido gave Yokoo a sharp look, but Senga continued happily on with his breakfast, unconcerned.

“Give me that,” Fujigaya demanded, snatching the camera out of Miyata’s hands with a comment about having shaky hands, but obviously far more concerned about keeping himself out of any further filming. “…Why are there only five minutes of film left? There was like two hours yesterday.”

Miyata’s grinned widened, and Tamamori rounded on him with an, “I told you not to—”

“It wasn’t just you,” Miyata cut him off, eyes scrunched up tight, and everybody else froze. “I thought our fans might want to see everyone’s sleeping faces. So cute~.” While Fujigaya spluttered and nearly fumbled the camera right into Tamamori’s tea, Miyata turned to Nikaido and Senga, grin suddenly sharp. “Nika and Ken-chan have the cutest faces of all, ne.”

“Give me that camera right now,” Nikaido demanded, already half out of his seat, and Miyata just cackled while Fujigaya struggled to fend off Nikaido and hold the camera out of his reach, shrieking about what Tackey-senpai would do to him if his equipment got damaged.

“Shige warned me about the cameras,” Yokoo sighed, stirring his coffee morosely. “He told me it could only end in suffering…”

“No biting! Fuck, get off!”

*****

“So,” Tackey eyed each of them in turn, “who wants to tell me why we don’t have any footage of the last day of your trip?”

Everyone turned to look at Nikaido, except Tamamori, who looked at Miyata.

“We could always draw straws,” Fujigaya suggested, and then yelped when Nikaido kicked him squarely in the shin under the table.