Talk (Dirty) To Me [Oneshot] - Part 1

[h_itoshi]

Title: Talk (Dirty) To Me
Fandom: Kis-My-Ft2
Pairing: Nikaido/Senga
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 9096
Summary: The way Senga seems to pretend that those dirty text messages never happened bothers Nikaido so much more than he ever thought it would.
Notes: Collaboration with

unmeiboy!! We have been helping each other with fic for like... 6 years and this is the first time we've ever written something together haha. Only took us a total of nearly four months. It's a sequel to one of the Christmas gift fics, here.

 

Nikaido wakes to a pounding headache and a bed that is not his own. He groans and tries to pull the covers over his head, but they're stuck, so he curls down under them instead, wishing he could go back to sleep and never face reality again.

 

“Good morning.” He hears a voice say next to him, not sounding too amused, and some of the regret in Nikaido's stomach eases. It's Miyata's voice, so at least he didn't go home with a stranger last night to try and forget his problems.

 

It's still there though, what feels like a twisted ball of anxiety adding to the hangover which makes his head pound and eyes feel gravelly.

 

Nikaido only grunts his displeasure back, and half expects Miyata to tug the covers from his head, but he's happy when they remain. In his little dark and warm hiding place under the covers he can still pretend yesterday never happened.

“Guess I should inform you it's 11:30 and you've been snoring.” Miyata continues, and now that Nikaido's a little more aware of his surroundings, he hears the passive aggression in Miyata's voice, and he can't help but wonder how much of a pain in the ass he was yesterday.

 

He grunts again, his mouth feeling too dry to make real words, and his throat is a little sore. This time, the covers are tugged from over his head and he whines, squeezing his eyes shut to try and block out the daylight.

“Oh come on Nika, at least wake up enough to tell me you're not still drunk.” Miyata sighs.

 

Nikaido tries to open his mouth a couple times before it actually works, managing a thick “'m not.” where you can hardly hear the words.

“Good.” Miyata says, using the teacher-voice he only practises on the naughty kindergardeners. “Now roll over my way.”

 

Nikaido groans again, but slowly does as he's told, feeling as if every organ in his body has adjusted to his position on the side and now falls over when he shifts. He finally manages to turn without throwing up, seeing Miyata sitting up in bed next to him, covers still over his legs and laptop perched on his thighs. He looks exasperated, and a little disappointed, and Nikaido feels very guilty for not remembering much from last night.

“You look like shit.” Miyata greets him after only a glance at his face.

“Feel like it too.” Nikaido manages, voice still thick and husky, but at least it's coming back.

 

Miyata shrugs one shoulder with a look that says 'fair enough', and Nikaido feels even guiltier.

“... Was I terrible last night?” He asks, not sure he wants the answer.

“Yeah. You seriously tried to jump in front of the train.” Miyata's mouth pinches and Nikaido winces. Miyata's not an angry person normally, rather the opposite, a sweet funny guy, but now Nikaido can understand that Miyata's angry with him.

“I did?” He asks, raising his head from the pillow, and then lies back down with a grimace because it hurts. “Shit, I'm sorry.”

“Wasn't the easiest to hold you back to be honest.” Miyata says, tone harsh, but then he sighs. “I'm just happy I got you home at all.”

“Thank you.” Nikaido looks up at him, squinting a little, but he hopes he can convey his gratefulness anyway. “Really, I'm sorry, thanks for looking out for me.”

 

Miyata shrugs again, but it looks like Nikaido's going to be forgiven.

“... You don't normally do it.” He says, and Nikaido breathes a sigh of relief, before remembering why he got so terribly wasted yesterday.

“No. Don't remind me.” He groans, and he's torn between throwing himself at his phone to see what the hell he even wrote to Senga, and throwing the phone in the toilet so he can never see it again.

“Of how drunk you were or how stupid you are?” Miyata raises an eyebrow, but now his tone is lighter.

“Both.” Nikaido mutters, turning onto his back, feeling his world's axis shift again, and rubs his eyes with his palms to try and make them work properly. “I can't believe I sent those mails.”

“I know, you told me like 105 times yesterday.” Miyata sighs. “You also told me that you are a huge creep and that Kento will never talk to you again and that you should just die since you can't live without him. And that's when you tried to jump in front of the train.”

 

Nikaido wants to tell Miyata to shut up, that he really doesn't need to hear it, but he knows he deserves it. “Sorry.”

 

Miyata breathes a deep sigh and then looks down at him, eyes actually pitying. “You know, if you'd just have confessed to him like... two years ago, like a normal person, you wouldn't have ended up in this mess.”

“Confess? Seriously?” Nikaido says bitterly, staring at the ceiling. As if he hadn't considered how that would go, how Senga would be so taken aback and maybe even disgusted, but too nice to do anything but turn him down gently and never speak to him again. He knows the kind of girls Senga likes, and they're the sweet, blushing ones with fuzzy sweaters and pigtails. About the furthest away from Nikaido one could get.

“He's your best friend Nika, he wouldn't hate you.” Miyata says, sounding annoyed again, and Nikaido knows why since they've been over this a couple of times.

“Sure he wouldn't. But he's still heterosexual and likes sweet girls and I'm just a looser in a leather jacket.” Nikaido can't help but let his bitterness seep out, and regrets it as soon as Miyata whacks him in the head with a pillow.

“Yeah, but it might have been better to just tell him you like him than writing him a porn novel of what dirty things you want to do to him.” Miyata says firmly, and Nikaido hides his face in his hands with a groan.

“Maybe I really should have jumped in front of the train.”

“No, you shouldn't.” Miyata sets his laptop aside and swings his legs over the edge of the bed to stand up. “I'm gonna make breakfast now, and you're gonna be up eating it in fifteen minutes, or else.”

 

He pads out of the room in his T-shirt and pyjamas pants, and Nikaido stares at the ceiling some more, until he can't take it anymore and rolls back over to his side of the bed, seeing his pants on the floor and his phone sticking out of a pocket. His stomach lurches in anxiety when he sees it, dreading what he will find when he opens it. He knows he wrote dirty things, he knows that Senga gave short responses that somehow made Nikaido go on, and then Senga stopped answering, and Nikaido panicked and tried to drink it all away.

 

He's been attracted to Senga since the second he saw him in junior high, how could he not be? Senga's the prettiest boy he's ever seen in real life, large dark eyes and soft curls, and that sweet sweet innocence, the way he's so pure in everything he does. Nikaido's always been a bit trashy to be fair, not very clever and not very honest either. Senga was a dream to him, kind of like a Disney princess who taught him how to be a good friend, and he hasn't been able to let him go since then. Now they're older, Nikaido's 21 years old and Senga's about to turn, and Nikaido works a crappy job at a restaurant trying to figure his future out while Senga studies hard at university.

 

He knows Senga's university friends doesn't really like him, but Senga keeps coming back to him, doing the innocent things they've always done together. Senga is innocent, almost naive, and while Nikaido's friends in turn think that he's no fun at all, Nikaido cherishes it.

 

Senga doesn't drink, Senga doesn't stay out late getting into trouble, and Senga's only once kissed a girl. He knows that Senga feels self-concious about it, being 20 years old and having no experience with girls whatsoever, but Nikaido keeps telling him it's okay, no need to rush, because he can't even stand the thought of anyone else ruining that innocence. He wants to be the one to do that, wants it so bad it's almost become a kink. So bad he told Senga in dirty texts yesterday.

 

He makes a noise that sounds pitiful even to himself, but he has to know, has to know what he's done and if there's any way to save the friendship they have. He leans down for his pants and almost faints from the blood suddenly going to his head, but manages to get a grasp of the phone and pulls himself back up into the bed. He has to lie still for a minute before he can think again, and he has no idea how he's supposed to get up and walk in fifteen minutes.

 

He unlocks the phone and takes a deep breath before opening the conversation, stomach tightening when he's reminded that the last message is his own and Senga didn't reply. He scrolls back up to his drunken greeting and starts to read, face flushing darker in shame with every word.

 

He's written his own filthy fantasy, knows what it looks like in his head but it seems even dirtier in text somehow, and thinking that Senga's read this is torture. He whines and buries his face in the pillow, seeing Senga's replies burnt into the back of his eyelids. They're not disgusted. He can even see how one of them could give him the courage to continue.

 

How would you make me feel amazing?

 

But then all Senga did was call him drunk and stopped answering. Maybe, only maybe there is a chance that Senga will forgive him, that he can say he was too drunk to remember anything and that he lost his phone or something. Hell, he'd easily get a new phone if that's what it would take to cover this up.

“Nika.” Miyata shows up in the doorway and easily takes in the scene of Nikaido's flushed cheeks and the phone in his hand, but ignores it. “Get the fuck up or I'm kicking you to the floor.”

 

Nikaido stays at Miyata's place, lying on the couch without even having the energy to switch channels on the TV, apathetically looking through show after show about food and stupid talents making fools of themselves, trying not to think too hard about anything while Miyata thankfully ignores him and continues to work on his laptop. Miyata's going to be a kindergarden teacher, he's almost finished, writing his final paper now. He's older than Nikaido, 24, and they know each other since childhood when they were neighbours.

 

Miyata's one of his best friends. He's not Senga, but there is another kind of relationship between them, more like brothers. And Nikaido knows that Miyata's ignoring him for Nikaido's sake and not for being angry with him, just letting Nikaido stay and try to get over all his problems enough to go home.

 

That's when his phone vibrates on the low table before the couch, and Nikaido frowns as he makes the effort to pick it up. He nearly drops it when he sees that it's a message from Senga, and that it is a perfectly normal message.

 

These theories are so damn difficult (;_;)

 

Nikaido only stares at it for a few long minutes, holding it up in front of his face until his arm starts hurting. This is a dream, he thinks. I fell asleep and I'm dreaming everything is fine.

 

So happy I don't study. At least work doesn't have theories.

 

And from there, the conversation runs along as if nothing happened. Nikaido doesn't dare saying anything about topics that Senga doesn't start, says nothing of where he is or what he does or how he feels, which is what he normally talks about. When Senga asks if he wants to come over tomorrow night, he automatically answers yes without thinking, and he must looked stunned, since Miyata suddenly asks what's going on. When Nikaido stammers an explanation, he only smirks and tells Nikaido not to fuck up again before sending him home.

 

When Nikaido walks up the stairs to Senga's apartment the next night, the whole thing about the dirty texts feels so surreal. He's mailed with Senga as usual, and absolutely nothing is out of the ordinary. It's almost as if he made up the whole thing with the mails, and he's honestly had to scroll back in their text log to see if they're still there. They are, and Nikaido's cheeks still flush red with shame and embarrassment when he sees them.

 

Senga opens the door for him with his usual smile, hugs him just as tight as he normally does and then babbles on about school and his family and the book he's reading as he prepares dinner. Nikaido leans against the doorway and watches, talking and listening, everything just as it always is. But he finds himself unable to relax, watching Senga with new eyes, looking for signs of discomfort, anger, nervousness. Anything.

 

The lack of response from Senga is much more frustrating than Nikaido could have ever expected. He dreaded disgust and anger, but this, this ease that Senga takes it with is disturbing, especially since Nikaido's been a complete wreck thinking about it.

 

They eat and watch anime, laughing and making jokes about the plot in a friendly manner, but when they've reached the third episode that night and Senga makes himself more comfortable, laying his legs over Nikaido's lap, Nikaido can't take it anymore.

“Why are you so calm?!” he finally asks, loud enough for Senga to jump, focus turning from the TV to Nikaido in half a second. “Aren't you disgusted with me? Afraid? At least upset?”

 

Senga's eyes widen as he stares at Nikaido, who's looking back at him with the now familiar shame heating his cheeks, breathing a little elevated from nervousness and the tension he's been walking around with until now.

 

A small blush creeps onto Senga's cheeks and he casts his eyes down, hands fidgeting in his lap. “I... I didn't think you wanted to talk about it.”

“I didn't!” Nikaido rubs his forehead with both hands before covering his burning cheeks with them. “But I have to apologize, I am so sorry, shit, I don't even know what got into me. I'm so ashamed of myself and I know I can't blame tequila but...” He trails off, not looking at Senga, but he's amazed that Senga's legs are still warming Nikaido's thighs, not seeming about to move off of him.

“Nika.” Senga says, his voice soft and uncertain, and Nikaido has to look up at him. He's biting his lip and looking shyly at Nikaido from under his bangs, and Nikaido almost whines because he's so pretty but he really shouldn't be thinking about that now. “Did you mean it?”

 

The words make Nikaido's breath catch in his throat, because yes, he meant every single word, no matter how bad of a person that makes him, but he can't say that. He's about to laugh it off and deny it, but then he looks into Senga's eyes again, uncertain but honestly wondering, and the words die on his tongue. He just looks at Senga for a while before the heat on his cheeks feels too embarrassing, and he has to turn his face away.

 

He jerks when there's a soft touch to his warm cheek, shaky fingertips brushing his skin and his arms goosebump from it before he can control himself. He turns his head back to look at Senga, who seems unsure of whether what he's doing is okay, quickly withdrawing his hand when he sees Nikaido's widened eyes.

“Sorry.” He says, blush back on his cheeks and he looks down, and Nikaido's eyes linger on the way his eyelashes brush his blushing cheeks, and his entire body runs on overdrive on how beautiful Senga is right now. “Stupid question.”

 

There's something, a hint of a tone in Senga's voice that Nikaido picks out as disappointed, so small that he might be imagining it, but suddenly words tumble out of his mouth before his brain can catch up.

“I meant it. All of it.” He says without breath, and Senga's eyes dart up to stare at him. “I like you, and I want you, and I'm sorry I'm keeping you from the girls you like but I just can't stand the thought of anyone else's hands on you.”

 

Senga's mouth falls slightly open, but he doesn't look shocked, or scandalized, more... amazed.

 

“Nika...” He breathes, and Nikaido shivers because he's never heard his voice like that before. “For real?”

Nikaido takes a deep breath, knowing it's too late to back out, and since Senga's not straight out calling him disgusting yet, he feels the tiniest spark of hope. “I... Yes. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Senga asks quietly, and Nikaido looks at him and suddenly can't breathe, his eyes dark and almost hurt.

“I... For...” Nikaido tries, but he doesn't know what he was about to say and can't seem to make the words even if he knew.

 

“Nika... Would you kiss me?” Senga says, and Nikaido's heart positively stops for a moment. “Just to try?”

 

Nikaido swallows hard, because his brain is telling him what a stupid, stupid idea it would be to indulge in this, saying that he will only want more, but his body is already leaning in.

“I... I don't think that's a good idea,” he forces himself to say.

Senga bites his lip and twists his hands in his lap. “Yeah I guess. I don't really know how to do it anyway.”

 

Nikaido wants to grab his shoulders and shake him for not realizing how fucking attractive he is right now, but he clenches his jaw and his fists for a moment, trying to remain in control of himself. His voice comes out a little strained.

“That has nothing to do with it. It's just that if I do, I'll only want you more and I'm not sure I can control myself.”

Senga looks up at him with disbelief in those dark eyes, and he withdraws his legs from Nikaido's lap to sit up properly. “... Sorry. I just... wanted to try. I've been thinking about it.”

“...You've been what?!” Nikaido can't stop himself, voice loud and he can't believe what he hears when Senga continues, a little shocked by Nikaido's reaction.

“I've been thinking what it would feel like to kiss you.” He says, blushing a little as if what he's saying is a dirty secret. “What your lips on my skin would feel like.”

 

Something snaps within Nikaido then (probably his self-control) and suddenly he finds himself in Senga's face, close enough to feel Senga's gasp of surprise on his lips. He forces himself to glance up into Senga's wide eyes, seeing how terrified he is, but he can also see the consent he needs.

 

Nikaido couldn't stop his body even if he'd want to when he presses his lips against Senga's, soft and immobile against his own, and Nikaido's hands curl against the couch where he's holding himself up.

 

He doesn't even have to think about taking his time and consider Senga's inexperience, because all he wants to do is make this moment last. Senga's lips part in a gasp, and Nikaido seizes the opportunity to carefully dart his tongue out to lick at Senga's lower lip, longing for the wet heat of his mouth. Nikaido only has time to reflect that he tastes like soy sauce and chilli before Senga's pulled back, staring at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

 

“Sorry.” Nikaido automatically says, biting his lip and cursing himself.

“Nika, I...” Senga starts, voice breathy and tone a little helpless, and Nikaido shivers at the sound of his name, way too turned on already. “... Will you be gentle with me?”

Nikaido's breath catches audibly and he has to swallow before answering. “What... exactly are you referring to?”

“I don't know.” Senga admits shyly, looking away. “But you can do anything if you're gentle.”

“Kento.” Nikaido can't stop the moan that comes out, and Senga's eyes quickly dart back to him, astonished at his reaction. “Don't say those things.”

"Why not?" Senga asks, a little more confidence in his voice, almost defiance.

 

Nikaido doesn't know how to make sure Senga understands what he's saying, so he simply grabs Senga's wrist and presses his hand against his crotch where he's already halfway hard.

“Because you don't know what you're offering.”

 

Senga stares at him for a few long seconds, lips parted in surprise and a small blush on his cheeks, but then he presses his hand more firmly against Nikaido's cock, carefully, experimentally, and Nikaido's eyes roll back into his head at the hesitant touch, not bothering to stop his groan. He jerks Senga's hand away before he loses his mind completely and just takes him right here, silently wondering when he got wound up this tight.

 

“I know some things.” Senga blushes, sounding defensive and almost angry. “So I've never even had someone else's tongue in my mouth, but that doesn't mean I don't know anything.”

 

Nikaido can't even apologize, the realization of what kind of kiss Senga's had before claiming all his attention.

 

“I touched myself when I read your texts.” Senga says firmly, looking at Nikaido with challenge in his eyes, and that does it for Nikaido.

 

He grabs Senga by the collar of his shirt and pulls him in for another kiss, licking at his lips until Senga hesitantly parts them, and the way he gasps when Nikaido's tongue brushes his acutely reminds Nikaido of what he's doing and he pulls back again, just not very far. This time, he's actually shaking from how much he wants to continue, but his conscience just keeps telling him no and that he really shouldn't.

“Nika,” Senga says, his voice starting to sound worried as he takes in what a wreck Nikaido is, and he looks at him with concern. “What's going on?”

Nikaido takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, words tumbling out on their own. “I really want this but it's your first time and I shouldn't and I don't trust myself right now can we please stop this.”

 

A touch to his cheek makes him jump and he opens his eyes, finding Senga a lot closer than he was before, dark eyes filled with pity and amazement. “I can't believe you want me that much and never said anything.”

 

Nikaido has no idea what to answer to that, so he merely takes a deep breath and tries to calm his racing heart and hormones.

“Nika...” Senga says softly, stroking away a strand of hair from Nikaido's forehead, and even that touch sends a hot shiver through him, and he feels almost feverish. “Can we... try? I'm not sure about anything, but I want to try, especially since you seem to want it so bad. Is that okay?”

Nikaido opens his mouth to answer, but closes it again, uncertain of what to say. “I... What if I can't stop?”

Senga actually laughs at that, cupping Nikaido's face in his hand and Nikaido leans into the touch and the familiarity. “If you can't stop I'll kick you in the nuts, promise.”

 

Nikaido can't help but laugh too, and Senga smiles, but his eyes are dark and determined and Nikaido knows he's not going to be heard if he tries to say no again. “... Okay.”

Senga smiles, looking a little nervous, but he rises and reaches out for Nikaido's hand. “Come.”

 

Nikaido follows, sitting down next to Senga on his unmade bed with a growing feeling of surrealism.

“Uhm... I...” Senga starts, stroking a strand of hair behind his ear and wets his lips. “I guess this is a little awkward but I have no idea what to do now.” That actually has Nikaido laughing, the amusement cutting down on his urgency and uncertainty, and he relaxes a little.

“I thought you said you know things?”

“Only from porn,” Senga mumbles with a small smile, a shy blush creeping back onto his cheeks. “Not things like this, I mean, I-”

 

Nikaido just smiles and raises a finger to touch Senga's lips, effectively halting him from saying anything else. They're so soft under his fingertip, and he takes another deep breath before leaning in to replace his fingers with his own lips, much calmer this time even though his blood is racing.

 

Senga carefully responds to him, moves his lips against Nikaido's and it's so good Nikaido can't be bothered by the thought of what will happen between them after tonight.

 

Senga takes him by surprise by licking at his lips this time, and it sends a heatwave straight down his pants, and he almost wants Senga to just keep doing that until he can't even think, but then he parts his lips to let Senga in. The kiss is tentative at first, but Senga learns quickly and Nikaido melts into it until he's not sure which way is up or down.

 

He's kissed more people than he probably should, but not a single kiss has ever felt like this before, this effortless and still hot enough to send little jolts of pleasure down his spine when Senga licks at his tongue. He makes a sound into the kiss and tilts his head for a better angle, raising a hand to tangle in Senga's hair to get him even closer.

 

It surprises him when he feels hands on his chest, grabbing his T-shirt to pull him along when Senga leans back to lie down. Nikaido catches himself with his hands on either side of Senga and reluctantly breaks the kiss, looking down at him.

Senga looks back up, a little hesitant. “... Is it okay?” He asks carefully.

“It's a lot better than okay.” Nikaido mumbles and can't help but smile at Senga's uncertainty. “Relax, this is fucking amazing.”

 

Senga bites his lip with a little blush, hands still holding Nikaido's T-shirt, and Nikaido leans down to kiss him again, effectively pulling Senga's lip out from between his teeth. It's so surreal Nikaido would think he was dreaming if Senga's mouth didn't feel so good against his, getting more confident with each second, if he couldn't feel Senga's breathing against his lips and smell his warm cologne.

 

Nikaido breaks the kiss, feeling dizzy and high on endorphins in a way he hasn't since his very first kiss. He lets his lips trace Senga's jaw to his earlobe, just a soft press of mouth against skin, but Senga's shiver is enticing. Nikaido can't fully stop his dirty fantasies from resurfacing in his mind with Senga beneath him like this, quietly thinking that he's not a good person at all and Senga really deserves better. Deserves someone who's sweet and soft and gentle, everything Nikaido isn't.

 

The thoughts play in his head, but then he lightly bites Senga's earlobe and Senga gasps, the puff of hot air brushing Nikaido's ear and he shudders, hands clutching at the sheets to keep himself under control, figuring he doesn't give a damn.

 

~Part 2~