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reggiesmolina · 3 years

Text

i can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland

He looks really good, is all. His hair is a little bit tousled from carrying the tree and Reggie constantly putting his hand through it, and his cheeks are that shade of red they get when he's really excited about something. He removed his jacket and flannel halfway through the decorating, giving Luke a perfect view of his surprisingly toned arms and flushed chest. And his eyes— fuck, his eyes look beautiful, vibrant green speckled with sparks of gold from the twinkle lights. Reggie has always been cute, even pretty, but Luke doesn't think he's thought of him as beautiful before.

three times luke realised he was in love with reggie and one time he said it out loud

For @danslevy as my gift for @jatpdaily‘s Secret Santa.

I hope you like it, Megan. Happy Christmas.

link for AO3 is in the reblog

one.

They're decorating the studio the first time it happens, taking him by surprise.

Luke had been picking extra shifts at the coffee shop he worked at so he could save enough to buy a real tree and begged his mom for weeks to let him borrow the ornaments and lights they didn't use for their tree. He hasn't seen the boys outside of practice or their weekly movie night for weeks now, but it's worth when he sees Reggie's entire face brighten up when he tells him about it.

"Are we getting a tree?" he asks with a big smile from his place in the couch.

"Yeah, bro" Luke says, crossing the studio to sit next to Reggie. "I have the box of Christmas stuff my mom gave me so we just need to get a tree you like."

Reggie's parents aren't bad people, they're actually kinda cool sometimes, but they're also shitty parents sometimes, too. For the past three Christmases they have forgotten about Reggie's birthday because it's on Christmas Eve, and they don't decorate for Christmas because Reggie's mom doesn't like the smell of the trees, so Reggie's never had the full experience of decorating a tree.

Last Christmas Luke's parents had invited him to help with the Patterson tree, but he's never got to decorate a tree that's his, so Luke is gonna fix that.

"Is that even safe, though?" Alex asks from where he's seated on the floor. "Wouldn't that be like, a fire hazard?"

"Why would it be?" Bobby shrugs without looking up from his phone. "We already use the outlets for our amps, I don't think some Christmas lights are gonna be that much worse."

"Yeah, and we'll make sure to turn everything off and unplug it whenever we're not here," Luke reasons

"I don't know, guys..."

Reggie pouts and gives him his best puppy eyes that he knows Alex can't resist. "Don't be a Grinch, Alex. It can be my birthday present."

"And also," says Bobby, finally looking up, "if you say no, Luke will find a way to break in in the middle of the night to do it by himself anyway. We have joint custody of Sunset Curve's shared brain cell and if we're not here to supervise them, Reggie will break something and Luke will find a way to actually set the whole thing on fire."

"Hey!" Luke and Reggie protest but are pointedly ignored by the other two.

"Come on, bro, it'll look rad and it is Reggie's birthday after all," Bobby continues.

After a good moment of silence and twin begging looks from Luke and Reggie, Alex finally rolls his eyes and lets out a big, dramatic sigh. "Fine, we can have a tree. Only because I love you and you deserve to have a tree, but it so not your birthday present, okay?"

Reggie all but throws himself to Alex's arms to hug him.

---------------------------------------

Finding a tree they all agree on and was just the perfect size for the studio isn't as hard as Luke imagined it would be, and getting it to the Wilsons' isn't that hard complicated either since they're using their beat-up van to get it there, so they don't even have to tie it to the roof of the car.

Getting it inside the studio os a whole different story. It requires all four of the carrying it and Reggie scraps his hand when they almost drop it because Bobby stumbles with the the chord of one of their amps, and Luke is convinced he's never gonna get the smell of pine tree off his shirt but it doesn't matter once he has Reggie in his arms, thanking his and promising to repay him for it.

"None of that, Reg, it's a gift," he says, casually kissing Reggie in the cheek before going to check what's inside the box his mom gave him to start decorating the tree.

Decorating the tree takes longer that Luke expected, already well into the evening by the time Reggie considers it was appropriately full of tinsel, ornaments and lights. The tree looks perhaps a little bit *too full*, but none of them care about it as long as Reggie is happy with it. It's his tree, after all.

Alex and Bobby had gone to buy some pizza and Chinese takeout from that place a couple blocks down the studio, so Luke and Reggie are alone in the studio putting the finishing touches on the tree. Luke is nervous about being alone with Reggie, which makes no sense because they've known each other since elementary school and have been alone multiples times before. In fact, they used to spend all of their time alone before they met Alex and Bobby in middle school. It's just that there is something different about Reggie today.

"Hey, Luke, can you help me with this?" Reggie asks from behind him, rummaging through the box of decorations.

"What's up, bug?"

Reggie holds up two tree toppers Luke recognises from when he was younger, before his mom got the angel one they've put on their three since he was seventeen. "We need a topper for our tree. Which one do you like better?"

Luke carefully examines his options, a silver one shaped like a snowflake and a red and gold star, before deciding the red one.

"This one," he says, pointing at the star. "Red is your favourite colour."

Reggie flashes him another one of his smiles and it makes Luke's heart do weird things inside his chest and he's sure he's blushing now.

"Do you wanna do it?" Reggie asks, handing him the star.

"Are you sure?" Luke hesitates. "Placing the tree topper is kind of a big thing, don't you wanna do it?"

Reggie nods with a smile. "I know that, but I would really like it if you did it."

Luke takes the topper with a smile and places it on top of their tree, careful not to move any of the ornament or tip the tree down to the floor. He takes a second to look at the it and admire how pretty it looks with its mismatched ornaments and pretty lights, until Reggie's arm wraps around his shoulder and takes him out of his almost trance.

"Thank you," Reggie says, looking into Luke's eyes with a smile. "I know it looks a little bit crazy, and you didn't have to buy me a tree, but today was nice so... Thank you for that."

Luke turns so he was face to face with Reggie and cups his hand against his cheek, bringing their faces closer so they were only a couple inches apart.

"None of that," he says, smiling at Reggie. "It looks great and you deserve a tree, Reg. It was no biggie, I promise, and if you like it and are happy with it it's all that matters."

Reggie smiles at him before closing their distance and resting his forehead against Luke's. He is a couple inches taller than Luke but it works up fine.

He doesn't know for how long they stay like that, but Luke can feel the way their noses are touching and how they're so close he can *feel* Reggie's breath. All he would have to do is angle his angle his face up just a little bit and their lips would touch. He doesn't know where the thought comes from, but he realises he wouldn't mind kissing Reggie right now, and for a moment he thinks he sees something in Reggie's eyes that tell him he's feeling the same.

But the moment ends abruptly when the boys come back kicking the doors of the studio open. Bobby is holding two pizzas and Alex's hands are busy with takeout bags and a six-pack of Coke, so Luke takes his hands off Reggie's face to go help them put it all down on the coffee table before they drop something. He is only slightly disappointed he didn't get to kiss Reggie, but isn't sure why. He doesn't even know why he wanted to kiss him in the first time

"Everything okay?" Alex asks him in a whisper, giving him a funny look. "It looked like you guys were having a moment."

"Nah, man, just Reggie saying thank you," Luke shrugs.

"Right..." Alex said, giving Luke a look that made his nervous. Alex has always been good at reading Luke and knowing how he feels even before Luke figures it out himself but he would never say or do anything that would make him uncomfortable, and he usually leaves him alone about it for Luke to work it out before he says anything.

"Let's eat up, boys, it's Christmas!" Reggie says, putting his arms around Luke's shoulders. Luke hopes he can't see the ways he's blushing down to his neck.

And as he watches his best friend shove food into his mouth like he hasn't had a meal in months Luke is hit with the realisation that he has a crush on Reggie, has had one for the longest time.

two.

"Haven't seen you much this week," Alex starts the conversation, eyeing Luke warily.

They're at the coffee shop Luke works at, seated on a table near the back during his lunch break.

"What do you mean? We saw each other at practice yesterday," Luke says.

"Yeah, and you practically ran out of the studio as soon as we were done. You didn't even stay for movie night," Alex sighs, looking at Luke with a frown. "We watched Die Hard, by the way, because you keep saying that's your favourite Christmas movie and it was Reggie's turn to pick the movie and he wanted to do something nice for you. He's sweet like that."

Luke groans and slaps his forehead against the table, because this is Alex's passive-aggressive way of telling him he's being an asshole.

After 'The Tree Incident', as Luke has been calling it, he's tried not spend too much time alone with Reggie, so whenever he's not at band practice he's at work. He's been working a lot of extra hours and picking up second shifts telling his parents it was because he wanted to save money so they could afford a new van that would actually be useful for getting to gigs and not a death trap in wheels. And it wasn't even a lie, they really needed money to replace it, Christine (name courtesy of Bobby, who thought he was being really by naming it that) had been falling apart since the moment they bought it. It just wasn't the whole truth either.

He knows he's being a coward and a little stupid for avoiding Reggie over something he has absolutely no control over o even knew about, it was just that Luke didn't know what to do with this new information. He's never had a crush on one of his friends before, and he's afraid he's gonna do something that will make Reggie notice it and it'll end badly. He doesn't think he'd be able to survive the heartbreak if Reggie decided to stop being friends with him because had a stupid crush he couldn't control.

"I'm just worried, bro, because last week you were practically begging on your knees for us to help you get a tree for Reggie to decorate and then the next day you're avoiding us. Avoiding Reggie," Alex explains, smiling softly at him. "Did something happen? Between you and Reggie, I mean. It was all fine when Bobby and I left but you started acting all weird when we came back. Did you guys fight or something?!

"Nothing happened, Alex," Luke says, finally lifting his face up the table and looking at him. "I was just being an idiot, that's all."

"Well, that''s nothing new, is it?" Alex jokes.

"I promise I will apologise to Reggie and make it up to him, okay?"

"Okay," Alex concedes. "But how?"

Luke looks at him confused. "What do you mean 'how'?"

Alex rolls his eyes at him. He does that so much that Luke's afraid on of these days he's gonna get stuck like that or something.

"I mean that Reggie was pretty hurt last night when you left," Alex explains. "So how can I be sure you are actually gonna fix it and make it up to him and not just make it worse?"

Reggie is everyone's favourite member, and everyone who knows Sunset Curve can see that, but Alex and Reggie share a deeper bond, so of course the blond is incredibly protective of the bassist and would do anything for him. Luke once saw how Alex tore apart a kid from their history class with just his words because he said Reggie's head was filled with hot air because he didn't know the answer to a question and swore he would never do anything that made Alex give him that look that said he wasn't above committing murder because Reggie was hurt.

"I don't know," Luke says. "Can't I just apologise to him and promise I won't do it again?"

"Not unless you tell him *why* you did it in the first place because otherwise he's gonna think *he* did something that upset you," Alex sighs, looking at him directly in the eye. "He's gonna think it was his fault unless you tell him exactly why you were acting like an asshole to him all week."

And Luke hadn't even considered that. Of course Reggie would think it was his fault instead of just Luke being childish and scared.

"He thinks it's his fault?" Luke asks, voice breaking a little.

"You started acting like this after whatever happened while you guys were decorating the tree alone, Luke, of course he thinks he did something that upset you. You know how he is."

Luke stays quiet for a minute, weighting his possibilities. He wants to make it up to Reggie and assure him it wasn't anything he did, but he isn't ready to tell Reggie about his feelings, yet. It's still pretty new and he's not done figuring things out, haven't even considered telling Reggie.

"I want to make it up to him," he finally says after a couple minutes in silence. "But I'm not ready to tell him why just yet. Not all of it."

Alex looks at him for a good minute, and Luke can tell he's trying to decide how sincere he's being and if he should help him.

"Fine, I'll help you come up with something," he concedes. "But you gotta promise you're not gonna do it again, okay?"

"Deal."

---------------------------------------------

Alex's solution is making dinner for Reggie, and Luke can't help but feel like he's being set up, but he's got no other ideas so he goes with it.

The day after the conversation at the coffee shop, they cancel band practice for the day and spend the whole afternoon looking up recipes for homemade pizza. Alex helps him make the dough and properly prepare Reggie's favourite toppings, making sure everything is perfect for when Reggie gets there.

Luke's parents are away for the weekend visiting his aunt in Fresno, so they have the house for themselves, and he isn't sure if that helps or make him even more nervous. He's glad he's gonna get to talk to Reggie without anyone interrupting or bothering them, but he's also about to have dinner with the guy he's crushing on, in an empty house with nowhere to hide.

"You need to relax or this isn't gonna work, bro," Alex sighs. "Why are you so nervous? He's gonna love it, and once you explain yourself everything will be fine again, if you're worried he's not gonna forgive you. It's gonna be fine, dude."

And he's right, of course, but it's not that what's making him nervous. The whole thing is looking too much like a date and it's confusing Luke's head, because it's not and he doesn't want to do anything stupid like telling Reggie about his crush when he's not ready yet, but Alex doesn't know that.

"I'm relaxed, it's okay," Luke says, defensibly.

Alex gives him a quizzical look but doesn't say anything more and gets back to cutting the peppers.

By the time they're done it's twenty minutes before Reggie is supposed to arrive, so Alex leaves after giving him a hug and telling him to "please don't fuck it up".

It's too late for Luke to get a shower unless he wants for his hair to be soaking wet when Reggie gets there, so he just changes to the outfit Alex picked up for him and fixing his hair. Ten minutes later he's back at the kitchen wearing a shirt with actual sleeves and buttons and the only pair of jeans he owns that aren't ripped or two sizes too big for him, putting the two pizzas they made inside the oven. He's checking on them to make sure they're not burning when he bell rings, and Luke absolutely doesn't jump when he hears.

Reggie gives him a shy smile when he opens the door, looking just as nervous as Luke feels. He's wearing his usual black jeans and leather jacket outfit, but instead of a tank top he's wearing a deep red button down. His hair is brushed back and his cheeks are just slightly pink. He looks so good it momentarily takes Luke's breath away.

"So what is this, then?" Reggie asks once Luke remembers his manners and lets him inside the house.

"This-" Luke says, taking the pizzas out of the oven and placing them in the counter. "-is an apology. I'm sorry I've been an asshole this week, Reg. I needed space to think about something and forgot to use my words. Sorry about that."

"I thought I did something that made you upset," Reggie says, looking down at his feet instead of Luke.

Luke wraps his arms around his waist, hugging him. "You didn't, bug, and I'm sorry I made you feel that way." He says into the crook of his neck.

Reggie hugs him back and they stay like that for a moment, just holding each other. Luke can feel Reggie's breath in his neck and the way his arms are wrapped around his waist is making his heart beat faster and his knees turn to jello, but he decides this is his favourite place in the world. Crush or not, hugging Reggie has always been one of his favourite things to do, because he gives the best hugs and Luke always feel safe inside Reggie's arms.

"The food will get cold," Reggie says into his neck, and Luke lets go of him reluctantly.

Reggie carries the conversation while they eat, almost like he's telling Luke at once all of the things he didn't get to tell him the past week. He tells him all about the trouble his sister is getting up to in New York, now that she's permanently moved there, and how last movie night Bobby farted so loud it startled them all and they couldn't laughing about it for five minutes straight.

Luke's belly is full with pizza and butterflies and he's drunk on wine they're way too young to drink and Reggie's presence. And this time he's barely surprised when the thinks how he would like to do with Reggie forever. Last week the realisation hit him like an electric shock that made his body stiff and activated his fight or flight, it made his body stiff and brain malfunction. It scared him and surprised him all at once.

This time, though, he just feels warm. Like he's getting inside a hot bath or someone is embracing him. He's happy and safe, and when he thinks 'I have a crush on Reggie' it feels natural, like it was inevitable. And when looks up at Reggie, with his earnest smile and bright eyes, he realises it really was. He never stood a chance and he's okay with that. He likes Reggie, he has feelings for Reggie, and it's the best thing that's ever happened to him.

three.

The party is in full swing when the boys get there.

They weren't really planning on going, but Willie had insisted they came and Alex is a fool in love who couldn't say no to his boyfriend, so here they are.

It's the day before Christmas Eve -and Reggie's birthday- and Luke can think of twenty different things he would rather be doing instead of being at some frat party. And honestly, who the fuck throws a Christmas party in a frat house? But Alex gets nervous around crowds so wherever he goes, Reggie follows. And if Reggie is there Luke must be two steps behind, that's how they've worked since they were kids. Bobby is there because he genuinely enjoys parties and also to make sure none of his dumbasses does something stupid.

Luke is nursing a beer that's gone warm already while he watches Alex, Willie and Bobby engage in a particularly violent game of Uno. Bobby and Alex are the most competitive people he knows, and he learned better than to give in to their tendencies after that time Alex threw one of sticks at him while playing Clue when they were fifteen, but Willie seems to be giving them a run for their money, too. He hopes the game ends before someone decides to start biting (Alex) or throwing punches (Bobby) at the others.

Reggie is on the other side of the room, talking to one of the girls from his science class, and Luke is trying really hard not to stare. She's really pretty and looks like she's really into whatever story Reggie is telling him, and Luke knows he has no right to be jealous but he can't help it. Ever since he came into peace with the fact that he had feelings for Reggie that went beyond friendship, he's been looking for the perfect chance to confess them. He doesn't know what Reggie will say, and he doesn't want to think about what would happen if Reggie doesn't feel the same, but he can't keep it down any more.

Because Luke knows it's not a crush, anymore. He's in love with him, and he doesn't think he can hide his feelings anymore.

He's certain Alex's knows, because he keeps giving him these looks whenever he's close to Reggie, and sooner or later the others are gonna catch up to it, too, with the way he keeps blushing whenever Reggie touches him and completely loses his ability to function when he takes off his jacket or flannel and stays in only his tank top.

"You're thinking really loud," Bobby says besides him. It seems like the game ended without anyone getting a black eye or any furniture being permanently damaged.

"How can you think loud?" he asks.

"What Bobby means-" Alex interjects from the other side of the couch where he's cuddling Willie. "-is that you're doing that face you do when you're worrying about things you shouldn't worry about."

Luke scoffs. "I don't make a face, dude."

"You do, though, it looks kinda like..." Alex says, and proceeds to frown intensely demonstrate what Luke's face supposedly look like.

"My face doesn't do that, Alexander."

"It really does, bro," Willie laughs. "Looks like an angry puppy."

Luke flips them off and turns to look at Reggie again but he and the girl aren't there anymore. He swallows the lump that forms in his throat and ignores the pit that forms in his stomach.

"Let's go get some drinks, Luke," Alex says, pointing to the table with the drinks with his head.

"I already have a drink," he protests, but Alex gives him a look that had Luke getting up on his feet to follow him anyway.

"So," Alex starts once they're by the table and he's pouring Coca-Cola in a solo cup. "What's that about?"

"What's what about?"

"The way you're looking like someone just kicked your puppy," Alex explains, looking at him.

Luke knows there's no point in pretending he doesn't know what Alex is talking about, so he downs the rest of his warm beer in one sip before answering.

"It's nothing, 'Lex, you don't need to worry about it."

"Are you sure it has nothing to do with Reggie ditching us to go talk to Julie?" Alex insists. "Because you don't get to be possessive when you refuse to tell him how you feel."

Oh, so they're doing this, okay. Luke would have liked it not to do this at a shitty frat party next to the table filled with cheap alcohol, but here they are.

"I know that," Luke sighs. "But I haven't found the right time to tell him, and I'm not even sure I should say anything. What if he doesn't like me back and things get awkward and it breaks up the band?"

"Okay. First off, nothing short of all of us dying could break up the band," Alex reasons. "And even if Reggie doesn't feel the same he would never make things awkward. He loves you, bro, and I'm sure you would find a way to still be friends. And it's not my place to tell you what you should do about the way you feel, but I think it's worth a shot, don't you think?"

"When did you became a relationship guru?" Luke laughs, hugging Alex.

"I mean, I am the one in a healthy and loving relationship, aren't I?"

They go back to the couch with their new drinks in hand to Willie and Bobby in the middle of an arm wrestling battle, and Luke prays that this one doesn't end in someone rushing to the ER like last time.

------------------------------------------

They stay there for a while, the four of them talking about college applications and weather or not The Rolling Stones are best band to ever exist, before Reggie comes by, followed by the same girl from before.

"What are you doing?" he asks, sitting next to Luke and wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

"Just talking, bro," Bobby answers. "Luke keeps saying The Stones are the best band but Alex and I think it's Led Zeppelin."

"You're all wrong. Lynyrd Skynyrd is obviously the best bad ever," Reggie says, making them groan. Reggie discovered southern rock when they were in ninth grade and kept insisting ever since that Sunset Curve should start experimenting with country sounds.

"No, no. The Eagles are the best band, so you're also wrong, Reg," the girl says, standing next to Reggie.

"Oh, shit, sorry. Guys this is Julie Molina," Reggie says with a smile. "She's in my science class and her dad is the photographer I was talking to you about the other day."

With graduation approaching quickly the boys had to make the decision of going to college and focus on trying to make it as a band. They had a pretty decent following and were regulars in several open mic and showcase places, but they would finally be of age to play clubs and things would hopefully take from there, so last month they had put all of their savings together so they could afford recording studio and recorded a demo. The plan is to start distributing it around once winter break was over, take it to record labels and carry copied of it with them whenever they had a gig so they could offer them to potential manager or talent scouts, but they still needed pictures for it so Reggie suggested they ask this photographer he knew.

"Hi, Julie," Alex greets her even though he obviously already knows her. "What did you dad say?"

"He's down for it," she says, sitting down in the couch next to Alex. "You guys just need to pick a date for it and he'll gladly do a photoshoot for your demo."

"Sick!" Luke high-fives Bobby and Reggie.

They continue talking about anything and everything, and Luke starts to feel like an idiot for being jealous of Julie when she's obviously only friends with Reggie. And she's really cool, too. She's in a band with her two best friends and after she shows them a couple of their songs in her phone he can't stop talking about music with her. He's so into the conversation he doesn't realise it kinda looks like he's flirting with her, because Luke keeps complimenting her voice and how cool her songs are, and even asks her to come by their studio some time so they try writing something together. But that's just Luke being himself, and he recognises talent when he finds it.

He sees out of the corner of his eye the way Alex is looking at him, but he ignores it and instead keeps talking to Julie about Taylor Swift's newest album and what new music they've been listening to lately until Julie looks at her phone and yelps.

"Shit, I need to go, guys, my dad is here. It was nice finally meeting you, Luke," she smiles at him. "Let me know when you're free for that songwriting session."

"Oh, sure, what's your phone? I'll text you," he says, putting out his phone to enter Julie's contact before hugging her goodbye when she lefts.

"I'm gonna go get some air," Reggie says after a minute of complete silence, getting up and giving them a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

Luke watches as he walks away down the same hall Julie left a minute ago, and when he looks at Alex he knows he did something wrong.

"What?" he asks, confused.

"That was so not cool, bro," Bobby says, frowning at him.

"Yeah, dude, that was an asshole move," Willie agrees.

And if looks could kill, Luke would be six feet under with the way Alex is looking at him.

"What?" he repeats, looking at the three of them.

"You were flirting with Julie," Bobby explains.

Luke lets out a laugh. "No I was not."

"It sure looked like that, bro," Willie says. "You kept saying she has the voice of an angel, and that thing at the end? Asking her for her number? That's a classing flirting move."

"She has the voice of an angel. You guys heard the songs too, I know you agree. And I asked for her number so we could talk about writing together."

"You asked her to come by the studio to check us out when we practice," Bobby continues.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You never let us have an audience when we practice, you say it's a distraction."

Okay, that's not true. Luke doesn't like having people who don't understand music the same way they do watch then when they practice, but he offered Julie because maybe she has some tips on how they can perform better or what adjustments they can do to their set so it's at it's best.

"Wait, you guys thought I was trying to flirt with Julie?" Luke asks, and then it hits him. "Did Reggie think I was flirting with Julie?"

"For sure he did," Alex finally speaks, making Luke wince from how mad he sounded.

"Fuck," Luke says, jumping out of the couch and onto his feet. "Shit. I need to talk to him."

"No, you don't," Alex says, grabbing him by the wrist to avoid him from going after Reggie. "Not unless you're ready to tell him about who you actually have a crush on. And you need to talk to Julie, too. Tell her you weren't meaning to flirt with her."

"I will," he promises, looking at Alex with pleading eyes. "I'll explain to her later, okay? But I need to find Reggie first. Please."

Alex looks at him with anger and disappointment in his eyes, and there's a moment where Luke thinks he's about to punch him before he sighs and drops the hand holding him back. "Fix this."

"I will," Luke repeats and starts walking towards the direction Reggie left.

He finds Reggie seated in the driveway after looking for him for a good fifteen minutes. He's looking at something in his phone and jumps a little when Luke sits next to him.

"Hey," Luke whispers, smiling softly at him. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Reggie says, but his voice breaks a little and Luke can tell he's been crying.

"Are you sure?" Luke asks, taking Reggie's hand between his.

Reggie looks down at their joined hands and takes a deep breath before saying, "Actually, I'm not."

Luke looks at him with an open expression, encouraging him to keep talking.

"You were flirting with Julie, and I didn't like that."

"I'm sorry," Luke says, sincerely. "I really wasn't trying to, I just got carried away. I will talk to her, explain I didn't mean it that way."

"What do you mean you didn't mean it?" Reggie asks, frowning.

"Well, she seems cool and her music is amazing, but I don't like her like that."

Reggie yanks his hand out Luke's and quickly stands up. "Then what the fuck was that? Because it certainly looked like you were interested, Luke, and that's a shitty thing to do if you don't mean it."

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Luke defends himself, standing up to so he can look at Reggie's face. "That's just how I am!"

"Oh, so you just go around leading people on, then? Having them think you're interested in them when that's just how you are. She's my friend, Luke, and you can't go around doing that to people!"

"Why are you yelling at me, huh?" Luke snaps, raising his voice to match Reggie's tone. "I came here to make sure you're okay and all I get is you screaming for nothing."

Reggie scoffs and rolls his eyes. He turns around and begins walking down the street, away from Luke.

"Where are you going?"

"Home!" Reggie yells. "You're being an idiot so I'm going home."

"What the fuck, Reggie?" Luke continues talking as he walks behind Reggie, and yanks him by the arm so he stops walking. Reggie turns around to look him with and outraged expression but Luke cuts him off before he can say anything.

"I came here to explain myself and tell you I wasn't flirting with Julie because I'm in love with someone else."

Luke is barely aware of his own words. He's been waiting for the right moment to tell Reggie and yelling at each other in the driveway of some fat house two days before Christmas isn't the ideal scenario, but it was now or never, right?

Reggie's face had morphed into shock, and doesn't move when Luke drops his arms so he can get closer to him until they're inches away, looking into each others' eyes.

"I wasn't flirting with Julie because I'm in love with you, Reggie," Luke says, looking down at their feet instead of into Reggie's eyes. "I didn't know how to tell you, and didn't want to make things weird between us if you didn't feel the same, so that's why I didn't say anything. That's why I was so weird after we put up the tree at the studio. I realised I had feelings for you and didn't know what to do about it, so I decided to be a coward and avoid you, and I'm still sorry for that."

"I do," Reggie says in a whisper, and when Luke looks up into his eyes he can see tears starting to form in his eyes.

"What?"

"I feel the same way," Reggie clarifies, "That's why I was so mad you were flirting with Julie."

"You do?" Luke breaths, closing the distance between them so their foreheads are resting against the other and his hand moves to the back of Reggie's head.

"Yeah," Reggie whispers. "Since we were kids."

And Luke doesn't have time to ask about that because then their lips are touching. Reggie's kissing him and it's so much better than he imagined it would be. His lips are soft against his and he tastes like the mint gum, and when he puts his hand in Luke's cheek he can feel his knees go weak.

They pull apart after a while, and Luke can't believe the look of adoration in Reggie's eyes is for him. He's the one he's looking at like that.

"I love you," Reggie says, pulling him into another kiss.

Luke is beaming when he replies, "I love you, too."

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #julie and the phantoms fanfic #jatp fanfic #jatp fic #character:luke patterson #character:reggie peters #ship:luke/reggie #fanfic:mine

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brynne-lagaao · 5 years

Text

(Fanfic) Morning After

Title: Morning After

Rating: R18

Description: It wasn’t just the alcohol that brought them to this point; it had been a long time coming, even if Yata hadn’t quite realized it before. He wasn’t about to let it end there, either.

Crossposts: AO3, FFNET, my website. Links are here.

Happy Sarumi Day, and happy (early) birthday to Yata Misaki!

-----

The morning after his birthday, Yata woke with a dry mouth and a faint but persistent headache. His body felt unusually sweaty and sticky and he could tell even before opening his eyes that he was in an unfamiliar place.

He was also completely naked under the covers of whatever bed he was sleeping on.

It was that last fact that had him shaking off the final haze of sleep and opening his eyes, grimacing at the way the light in the room caused them to sting. Yata muttered a few swears under his breath as the heavy, aching feeling of having had a few too many drinks the night before started to make itself known.

Goddamnit, I told them to cool it with the shots…

That one stray memory seemed to open the floodgate; even as he squinted up at the ceiling, he could feel the evening’s events start to come back to him. Hanging out with his friends at that bar, the classy one he and Saruhiko sometimes went to. Having Saruhiko himself show up, something he’d been vague about beforehand - ‘not enough free time’ and all that crap - along with a few of the Blues that Yata had gotten friendly with during their alliance. Everyone buying him beer, shots, and even a few fancy cocktails with the repeated insistence that you had to get loaded on your own birthday. Stuff started to blur together after a while, but…

His vision cleared.

The room he was in was a hotel room. Nothing too fancy, but the bed was huge and it was sitting on some kinda platform - he was pretty sure it rotated, even. There were some questionable looking bottles on the side tables and the lighting was artfully dimmed. When he turned his gaze up at the ceiling, his own reflection squinted blurrily back at him, flushed and ruffled and looking thoroughly befuddled, from the large mirror mounted there.

One of those hotel rooms, even.

The sound of a running shower was coming from somewhere nearby, and when he glanced in that direction, he could see light coming from beneath the closed door across the room. Further investigation revealed that the other side of the bed was empty but the covers were in disarray - clearly, someone else had slept there.

Holy shit… For a moment, Yata could only stare blankly at the evidence of what had obviously happened, the pieces falling together in his head before his thoughts had quite caught up.

He had… he had totally gotten laid last night, hadn’t he?

Coming to that realization was like reaching a trigger point in a video game to unlock a cutscene - or, in this case, a memory. The vivid impression of his mouth pressed against someone else’s, opening and moving with hot, clumsy fervency as they pressed together. Pulling off his clothing with haste between sloppy kisses; the feel of hands on his naked body; the warmth of uncovered skin beneath his fingers. They’d been rough with each other, grasping harshly for purchase against arms, hips, torso, anywhere - tumbling blindly onto the bed and rolling a few times before coming together somewhere in the middle. The chest against his was flat and firm; he could very clearly recall how delicious the contact had been and how much pleasure had come just from their lower bodies rubbing sinuously against one another. The heat of another man’s erect cock moving against his own had sent him over the edge, an unexpectedly intense orgasm ripping through him as he was pressed down hard against the mattress.

There was heat rising on Yata’s face now, embarrassment at the erotic recollection nearly overpowering his senses. Fuck. He pushed himself up to lean forward against his knees, letting the bedcovers sink around his hips and running a hand over his face as he shut his eyes against the rush. It didn’t help that the memory had him about halfway hard now, a pleasant prickle of arousal overriding the discomfort left by his excessive drinking the night before.

Damn, it had been good, he had to admit, going by just the memory alone. Even aside from that first hasty climax, he had other impressions rushing back: the sensation of muscle tensing and relaxing under his tongue as he migrated down along a toned stomach; the feel of fingers threading in his hair and encouragingly pulling him down; the weight and bulk of his partner’s dick sliding into his mouth with surprising ease.

… The reversal, lying on his back with his legs spread and hands securing his hips, feeling warmth and suction closing around his own cock as his thoughts broke apart in the wake of intense pleasure.

Holy shit. Yata could feel his cheeks flaming beneath his fingers, breath growing short and ragged against his palm as his pulse started to quicken. They’d really done… that. Recalling the taste and the feeling gave him another little squirmy rush of arousal, his body taking further interest at the memory of what it had done to incite those sensations.

They’d done it, and it had been good.

That single fact was still sinking in when the bathroom door opened, and he turned his head instinctively just as his partner in this unexpected little affair stepped out.

Instantly, his skin prickled up, and his earlier embarrassment seemed to fly out the window. Because that tall, lanky figure standing in the doorway in just a thin shirt and pants with a towel wrapped around his neck and his dark hair hanging damp and limp around his face was so familiar Yata would’ve recognized him in his sleep.

Saruhiko…

It didn’t feel like as much of a shock as it should’ve. Even as Yata sat there on the bed, blinking stupidly at his oldest friend - his oldest friend who he’d just fucking had sex with last night - something in the back of his mind seemed to click into place. The thought crossed his mind: ‘Oh. So that’s it.’

Of course it was Saruhiko. Of course.

There was no real time to process that revelation before Saruhiko made a sour face, clicking his tongue and turning away from Yata’s gaze. “You’re already awake, huh?” he muttered, sounding a bit put out. “Do you actually remember anything from last night, or am I going to have to explain it?”

The petulant tone grated on his nerves; Yata scowled back, instinctively on the defensive before he could properly think about it. “Why the hell wouldn’t I remember?”

“Hmm?” That response was drawn out almost mockingly, a tone that Yata had begun to recognize as Saruhiko hoisting his own defenses. That cool gaze met his again; behind the slightly fogged lens of his glasses, one of Saruhiko’s eyebrows raised. “Based on how many drinks you had…” He spread his hands, almost lazily. “Who knows.”

Right, the drinks… And now that it had been brought back up, Yata sorta remembered something else. A whole tray of shots set on the table in front of him, when he still had a nearly full glass in his hand. He’d already been feeling tipsy, and the prospect had been kind of alarming. He’d tried to laugh it off at first.

“Hey, c’mon, this is getting stupid - ”

A light snort from beside him. “Lightweight,” Saruhiko’s murmur followed.

“Huh? What the hell? Look who’s talking!” Yata leaned sideways in the booth to offer a pugnacious scowl in return, not fully serious about it but going with the flow of their usual banter. “As if you’re any better, Saru .”

Saruhiko met his stare head on, unphased. “Your memory must be going if you think so.”

“Yeah?” Impulsively, Yata slid the tray on the table, causing the shots on it to quiver as it came to rest between them. He smirked at the narrow look Saruhiko gave him. “Prove it.”

Neither of them was good at turning down a challenge. He could already see the fire lighting in Saruhiko’s gaze, even before he clicked his tongue and reached for the nearest glass. “Fine.”

That was it - that was how it had started.

At this point, Yata couldn’t remember who had won that impromptu competition - if either of them had. He vaguely recalled getting up from his seat and feeling unsteady on his feet, grinning stupidly at the laughing group of his friends as he stumbled for the bathroom. Saruhiko had been with him - he remembered the two of them bumping into each other, shoving back and forth playfully with their elbows.

Saruhiko had been smiling too, fierce and wide. It had been difficult to look away from his face, with how it transformed when he was like that.

Something inside his chest had seemed to flip, and he’d been able to see that same something reflected back in Saruhiko’s eyes. Acknowledgement - mutual understanding. It was too perfect.

Yata didn’t quite remember going through the bathroom door. He didn’t remember stumbling into a stall, or closing it behind them. But he vividly recalled how it had felt to press back against the closed stall door, tilting his head up as Saruhiko tilted his down - how their lips had met tentatively. So achingly, agonizingly soft. Phantom shivers went through him just from the memory, the longing he’d felt in that moment rising up again to clog his throat.

In that moment, he was painfully aware of just how much he’d wanted that kiss without even knowing it. Almost from the very start of their relationship, years ago. It was the sweetest thing he’d ever experienced, that unfulfilled desire being finally, finally answered.

Part of him had probably always known.

The silence had stretched on just a little too long while he was feeling the weight of the remembered awakening. Saruhiko clicked his tongue again, turning his head to break their gaze and frowning at the wall instead with obvious displeasure. “You’re better off not remembering anyway.”

Following on the heels of his recent memory, those words hurt more than they probably should’ve. Yata felt his hands curl into fists at his side, the now-familiar blend of frustration and confusion that rose at these moments when the two of them had a disconnect in understanding flaring up in immediate response. He had to force his voice even when he responded. “Why?”

“‘Why’?” Saruhiko repeated, still in that hatefully condescending drawl. He was still not making eye contact. “Isn’t it less awkward if at least one of us forgets this happened?”

Years of dealing with this crap had at least given Yata some perspective on some of Saruhiko’s baiting tactics, but that didn’t make it easier to handle. He could feel the hurt and the indignation surging up through his veins, demanding a response - demanding that he jump out of bed and grab Saruhiko by the collar and shake him. His fingers clenched even more tightly, almost painfully, as he forced the urge back.

It was a statement designed to cut, but it wasn’t just aimed at him. It was defensive at its heart in a way that was hauntingly familiar.

Yata didn’t fully understand Saruhiko - couldn’t wrap his head around what drove him to be like this, even after hearing the mumbled explanations during the series of painfully honest conversations they’d had as they healed their broken relationship. But more and more, he was able to recognize patterns and habits.

More and more, he was resolving to be honest and straightforward about his own feelings in response - even if he had to choke on his pride a little in the process - rather than playing into that game of secrets and lies. It was the best way he’d found to reach for the things he wanted without either forcing things to go his way or getting manipulated into a distraction.

Not gonna let you dick me around like that anymore.

Yata sucked in a long breath, then shook his head, forcing his hands to soften. “Heh.” He managed a wry grin. “You still pull that shit when you’re feeling cornered, huh?”

That at last earned him Saruhiko’s attention, although the gaze that shifted his way was wary. “What are you talking about?”

“You know.” Feeling buoyed by that small success, Yata shifted toward the edge of the bed, swinging his body around so that his feet were on the floor. “That whole ‘break everything’ bullshit.” Despite the fact it was kinda awkward to be naked when Saruhiko was dressed, he deliberately shifted aside the covers and pushed himself to stand, pugnaciously scowling to cover any residual embarrassment. “If last night was a mistake for you, fine, whatever. Just spell it out for me, and I’ll let it go.”

It was necessary to brace himself internally as he met Saruhiko’s gaze with as much conviction as he could muster. “It wasn’t for me, though.”

That much, he was sure of. The memory of their first kiss still burned brightly inside his head. He could remember it clearly - not just the press of Saruhiko’s lips on his or the mingling of their breath or the way his skin had prickled with awareness, but also the way his heart had felt like it would explode with the intensity of the emotions surging through him. Relief. Affection. Desire. Happiness. Satisfaction.

The very obvious absence of any confusion or uncertainty.

Everything they had done had felt good. It had felt right. And he wanted more. So much more…

Saruhiko’s eyes widened noticeably in response to his declaration, and Yata felt a tiny thread of the uncertainty that had been missing the night before worm its way through his thoughts. His instincts wanted him to believe that everything had been mutual - that the sense of understanding he remembered from when their eyes met had been real, and not something he’d imagined because he’d wanted it so badly. But that was where he made a lot of his mistakes in the past, right? Assuming things. Projecting his feelings onto other people.

In the end, he really had no idea what Saruhiko’s feelings were about this.

And that was why the only way to do this was to say exactly what he did know - to put himself out there, and take whatever answer he got.

After that initial surprise, Saruhiko seemed to collect himself, frowning in response as his eyes narrowed again. He clicked his tongue and mumbled, “Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“Huh?” Yata returned the frown. “What’s that s’posed to mean? Of course I do!”

“Do you really?” Saruhiko raised an eyebrow at him, another little sardonic smirk turning his lips up at the corners. “You remember what we did last night, right?” He lowered his eyelids a bit, slowly drawing out his next word. “Everything?”

The reminder sent a hot flush rushing up Yata’s neck to settle across his cheeks. “Th-that’s - !” He was suddenly, embarrassingly aware of his own nudity, and had to struggle against the immediate urge to cover himself. It was stupid - Saruhiko had already seen everything, up close and personal - but still somehow…

Still somehow, he couldn’t help but be reminded of how he’d got that way in the first place - eager fingers tugging at the fabric of his shirt and the zipper of his pants almost before the door slammed shut behind them. He’d done his part to help that along too, enthusiastically discarding each piece of clothing as it was insistently pulled off of him and returning the favor with Saruhiko’s shirt, pants, and cardigan as well. They’d both been impatient and fueled with confidence from the alcohol, pawing at each inch of bare skin as it was exposed.

Both of them had clearly wanted it in the moment, that was for sure.

The exact details of exactly how they’d migrated from the bathroom stall out of the bar and then to the hotel district were kind of blurry. He only remembered a sense of increasingly heightened anticipation and excitement, and the shivery thrill of exploring something fresh and unknown and fascinating. Trading glances with Saruhiko and seeing those same feelings reflected back at him, and knowing. Hell, he’d ditched his own birthday party. The two of them had booked a room at a goddamn love hotel. It hadn’t been all that spontaneous.

Even if it still kind of felt that way now, in the aftermath.

Saruhiko seemed to take his silence as some kind of weakness, because he made another of those low, mocking hums. “Are you that bothered by it, Misaki?”

“Shut up!” Yata blurted back, without even thinking about it. He huffed a bit, flustered. “I didn’t say I was bothered by it!” Reaching up to scratch at the back of his head with agitated energy, he muttered, “I’m just not used to it, s’all.” The words were barely out of his mouth before it occurred to him that he could turn this around, and he glared back stubbornly. “Anyway, you’re the same, right? That’s why you keep flipping this shit around and trying to distract me.”

Saruhiko blinked at him, clearly taken aback, and then clicked his tongue again, the smirk seeming to slide off his face. “Distract you from what, exactly?”

“From…” Yata struggled with that for a moment, before going for the simplest answer and swinging his hand around to indicate the room they were in. “This.” He brought that same hand back in front of him to wave back and forth between the two of them. “Us.”

The wariness was still there in Saruhiko’s expression, but he wasn’t looking away from Yata now. “What kind of ‘us’ are you talking about?”

It was about as plain a question as he was likely to get - considering the source, anyway. The easiest answer - What the hell do you think? - was on the tip of his tongue, but Yata managed to choke it back and stick with as much bare honesty as he could summon up. “Dunno about your side, but for me…” It was surprisingly difficult to force the words out; he could feel his cheeks grow warm as he did. “I - y’know - I liked it. What we did. Last night.”

Saruhiko blinked at him, clearly taken aback by that declaration. He opened his mouth, then closed it again and frowned. After a brief and very awkward pause he tried again, eyebrows furrowing. “What are you - ?”

“What the hell, Saruhiko?” Yata cut him off before he could finish that stupid question. “Don't play dumb, you asshole - are you seriously gonna make me spell it out for you?” He didn't even wait for an answer, scowling with enough aggravation to almost overpower his embarrassment. “I got feelings for you, dumbass!” The confession sent another flood of uncomfortable heat up his neck, and he deepened his scowl in instinctive response. “That's - that's plain enough for you, right?”

He had the satisfaction of seeing Saruhiko’s eyes widen at that, momentarily open and uncharacteristically defenseless. “Misaki…” he said, voice a curious blend of wonder and disbelief. And then he seemed to think twice on it, that old wariness rising like a protective layer across his face. “You decided that overnight, huh?”

You gotta be kidding me… Yata narrowed his eyes. “I realized it last night. When we - ” It was amazing how embarrassing it still was to say. “When we kissed, that first time, back at the bar… I got it. Everything just made sense. It felt like I’d been waiting for it for years without knowing.”

The frank confession had another surge of awkward awareness through him. Yata was starkly conscious of his own shameless nudity as he spouted out his most personal feelings, but he couldn't stop now. Not when he’d come this far already.

“It's always been you in my head like that,” he said, stubbornly holding his gaze steady on Saruhiko’s face. Only now was he noticing just how well he knew the small details of that face - all the curves and edges and the way it moved with different expressions. “I just never realized until it got spelled out for me. Then everything just… clicked.”

Shoulda been obvious, huh?

His last words hung in the air for what felt like a long, painful moment as Saruhiko stared blankly at him, seemingly robbed of any kind of sarcastic or biting response. And then, just as Yata was starting to shift anxiously on his feet, he abruptly clicked his tongue, turning his gaze to the side.

“It just clicked now?” he murmured, almost as if to himself. To Yata's amazement, a tiny hint of color seemed to have risen on his pale cheeks. “You're always late with these things, aren't you, Misaki?”

Something about the sight bolstered Yata's spirits just a little. “Shut up! I get it, okay? I'm slow with this crap sometimes.” Still… He hasn't rejected me yet. With Saruhiko, that was a positive sign - but he wasn't about to take anything for granted. “So?” Yata braced a hand on his hip, forcing as much confidence as he could muster. “You heard about me; now what about you?” A mix of anxiety and hope was brewing behind his ribcage, expanding so strongly he was sure it would bust its way out. His voice when he spoke again came out more tentative than he would've liked. “How - How do you feel? About me.”

Saruhiko let out a soft sound, like something between a hum and a chuckle. For a moment, he closed his eyes, lips curling up at the corners of his mouth with apparent reluctance.

Yata swallowed, reminded himself to breathe, and clenched the fingers of his free hand into a fist. And waited.

“You want to know how I feel?” Saruhiko drawled out, after that seemingly endless pause. He tipped his head back up and forward, lowering his eyelids and offering that lazy smirk Yata was so familiar with. There was a spark in his eyes that was almost manic. “I spent years of my life interested in you, and only you.” A sardonic undertone crept into his voice as he continued, “And somehow, I managed to be in denial through most of it. But I’ve known for some time now what I want.”

The combination of that soft mumbling tone, the words themselves, and the intense gaze that accompanied them had Yata’s stomach doing somersaults. “And what’s that?” he shot back, with as much bravado as he could summon.

“You.” The answer was immediate; Saruhiko’s gaze didn’t waver. “Everything about you. I want to see everything there is to see about you, hear every sound you produce…” A short, very poignant pause. “ Feel ” - Delicate fingers brushed a lock of hair from his face, and Yata felt his skin prickle - “every inch of you.” The touch lingered, and the manic look in Saruhiko’s eyes shifted to a kind of undeniable longing, so open and intense that it caused an ache to rise up swift and strong at the back of Yata’s throat. “I think about you all the time - you’re always there, at the back of my mind. I’ve felt like this for so long I don’t even remember what it was like when I didn’t.”

It was difficult to even breathe, much less formulate a response. Yata stared back, unable to tear his gaze and certain he didn’t want to anyway.

Saruhiko…

A soft, faintly mocking hum followed that brief silence, and Saruhiko withdrew his fingers, studying Yata covertly behind his lashes. “Does it bother you, Misaki? My feelings? A little much for you, are they?”

Even if he hadn’t caught the edge of self-preservation behind that, Yata would still have managed to collect himself at that point, shaking his head to dismiss that conclusion. “Are you kidding me?” He could feel the tremor in his fingers - his body - all the way down to his bones . “That was awesome.” The grin that spread across his face felt like it had bubbled to the surface without his consciously sending it there, but he didn’t care. This feeling… this raw excitement… There was nothing else like it. “You’re so…” Impulsively, he snatched up Saruhiko’s retreating hand and brought it back to his face, tipping his head sideways into it. “Amazing. You’re amazing, Saruhiko.” Catching the way those cool blue eyes widened, he followed up his advantage with shameless enthusiasm. “And I’m crazy about you too, you fucking dumbass!”

Those words could’ve started a fire; Yata could feel it building in the way Saruhiko’s fingers trembled in his grip - in the way Saruhiko’s eyes widened and then narrowed, darkening with intense focus. He could feel it in himself, raging from the inside, as hot and thrilling as Homra’s blaze.

And still - still - he wasn’t ready for the moment when Saruhiko’s mouth found his, fierce and desperate and clumsy, fueled by the pent-up longing he’d seen before. The sensation in his chest and through his body was something like an explosion. Nerves, tension, passion - all of it crashing together within him. He could only go with his instincts: focus on the pleasant pressure of lips against his, press back up into the kiss with all of his own excitement, and… breathe.

It was more vivid in the moment - or maybe that was due to being sober this time. The little details - fabric wrinkling in his fists, frenzied breath fanning over his cheeks, fingers pressing hard into the crease of his hips - seemed to stand out starkly. The clumsy wet glide of tongue against his lips and inside his mouth had that pleasant buzz of arousal firing to life in the pit of Yata’s belly; he couldn’t hold back a moan, and the soft, desperate-sounding response he got from Saruhiko sent a hot shuddering wave through his body.

Goddamn. It really was incredible. He should’ve known. Everything between the two of them was like this.

He wasn’t even really sure how much time had passed by the time Saruhiko pulled back a fraction, murmuring his name in a way that brushed their mouths together as Yata chased him in momentary confusion. “Misaki…” There was a moment of hesitation, almost imperceptible but enough that Yata opened his eyes a fraction so their gazes could meet.

Saruhiko’s glasses were askew on his nose, cheeks flushed and eyes still intent with that inferno of emotion. It set Yata’s heart to racing just looking at him. When he continued, the familiar slow mumbling timbre of his voice had an underlying desperation to it. “Let me fuck you.”

With that look and that tone, the words went straight to the building erection between Yata’s legs. “Yeah,” he managed to respond, voice unsteady. Clearing his throat against the anxious excitement, he yanked sharply against the fabric of the shirt still draped over Saruhiko’s shoulders and tried again. “Yeah.”

That was enough encouragement for Saruhiko to discard the stupid thing, shrugging it off with haste as he leaned in. Yata was pretty much done with waiting, reaching down for the fastening on Saruhiko’s pants instead. His fingers were unusually clumsy, tense with nerves and distracted by the arousal that lit his body again as Saruhiko urged him impatiently to step backwards toward the bed, their lips meeting and parting multiple times in short, heated kisses.

There was some awkwardness when the back of Yata’s knees hit the edge of the mattress and he nearly overbalanced. It forced them to part momentarily so that they could focus on ridding Saruhiko of the last of his clothing and when that was done there was a moment when they just kind of… stood there, naked and hesitant, eyeing each other with mingled desire and uncertainty.

Damnit, this was way easier when we were drunk.

That didn’t mean he was cool with stopping , though. Yata let himself fall back onto the bed, trying not to think about it too closely and desperately ignoring the rush of embarrassment that rose up brazenly as a flush across his face. “Right,” he said gruffly, forcing down the tremor in his voice. “Let’s do this!” It was pure bravado but whatever, couldn’t be helped. He smirked back up in open challenge, spreading his arms impulsively. “C’mon, Saru.”

He could tell immediately by the answering spark in Saruhiko’s eyes that it was the right move. There wasn’t time to process that really, though, because his invitation was taken immediately and he found himself pinned down to the bed with surprising force. “Misaki,” Saruhiko all but sighed out, eyes going lidded again and lips curling up just slightly even as he leaned in for another kiss.

Through the pleasant haze, the reality of what they were about to do was worming its way up to the forefront of Yata’s mind. Saruhiko’s lean hips were already settled between his thighs, their cocks rubbing together in a deliciously sinuous motion as they exchange increasingly sloppy kisses. It was distracting - but not distracting enough that he didn’t notice Saruhiko’s fingers sliding down and past his hips, curling around his ass cheeks with obvious intent.

He’s gonna… in there… It was kind of unnerving - going all the way, just like that - but at the same time... well…

Impulsively, he freed one hand to snake it between them, finding the hot length of Saruhiko’s dick with his fingers. The movement caused Saruhiko’s body to quiver, and Yata drank in the soft moan that vibrated against his open mouth greedily.

Feeling it like this in his hand and thinking about what it was going to feel like inside him was a serious turn-on. A little surge of pleasure shot through his lower body, precum oozing from the head of his dick, and another of those involuntary sounds escaped his throat in response.

Might’ve been kinda scary, sure, but it was hot as hell at the same time!

Saruhiko pulled back, breaking their kiss with obvious reluctance. His eyes were hazy with desire, cheeks flushed under the rim of his glasses, lips red and swollen, and the sight of him had Yata’s breath catching in his throat. Unconsciously, his fingers clenched in the hair at the base of Saruhiko’s neck, nerves on edge from the visual and physical stimulation.

Despite the fact that it clearly made reaching to the nightstand more awkward, Saruhiko didn’t attempt to dislodge him, groping blindly on the table with obviously unsteady fingers for a moment or two before he reached his aim.

It took a bit to refocus on what he was grabbing. Yata squinted at the bottle - right, lube, obviously - and the thin package. “We really need a condom?”

Saruhiko paused, then raised an eyebrow at him in response. “Unless you want it bareback and messy.”

Somehow just the wording of that… Bareback. The feel of Saruhiko’s dick in his hand - in his mouth, even, with his memories from last night. Messy. Oh yeah, he remembered that too: the telltale quiver that came with Saruhiko’s orgasm, just a bare instant before his mouth was flooded…

In the heavy silence that fell, Yata could feel his face and body growing hot. It was difficult to meet Saruhiko’s gaze as awareness slowly settled between them.

Damn… don’t make me say it!

Saruhiko blinked several times, seemingly taken aback. It was sort of a cute reaction, but it didn’t last long; after that brief moment of realization, his eyelids lowered, corners of his mouth curling in a smirk. “Really?”

The expression should not have been a turn-on. Yata felt his eyebrow twitch, and scowled against the embarrassment. “Just get on with it already!”

“Mm.” The smirk didn’t budge, but there was clear fondness in Saruhiko’s gaze behind that teasing edge. He set the condom package aside and flipped the cap on the bottle, awkwardly shifting his weight so that he could pour a generous amount into his palm. “So impatient, Misaki.”

This was it. A sudden mix of excitement and anxiety had Yata huffing out a low ‘heh’ and offering his own smirk in response. “Like you’re not!”

He expected another flippant reply, but Saruhiko surprised him by offering a lidded but intent stare instead, fully serious as he mumbled back, “I’ve been waiting all this time, haven’t I?”

All this time. The words resonated. “Yeah, well,” Yata responded gruffly, swallowing back against a rush of emotion, “just ’cause I didn’t know I was waiting doesn’t mean I wasn’t doing the same.” He met that gaze boldly, drinking in the charged energy between them and letting the hand still braced at the back of Saruhiko’s neck slide forward to cup the side of his jaw. “So let’s get on with it, huh?”

Something in Saruhiko’s eyes seemed to soften, just a bit. He let out an amused huff, pressing very slightly against Yata’s hand. “If you say so.” Without waiting for a response, he lowered his slicked fingers, prodding with surprising gentleness at the base of Yata’s ass.

Yata took the hint, shifting to bend his knees and move his legs further apart. The touch felt more intimate than others had before - it gave him an odd sense of vulnerability that chewed on his nerves a little. But at the same time, he didn’t… dislike it.

Even when Saruhiko pushed his fingers in, one first and then the others as Yata gave him shaky nods to signal that he’d adjusted, it was… not bad. Kind of almost good. Strange, yeah, and there was a stretch that wasn’t quite comfortable, but still. The sliding sensation as those slender digits moved in and out of him was sensual enough to build up some anticipation for what was coming.

Saruhiko looked up to meet Yata’s gaze as he pulled his fingers free and reached for the bottle again. There was an unspoken question in them - ‘are you okay?’ - along with a demand - ‘tell me if you’re not’ - that Yata picked up in an instant. He offered a grin in return, curling one hand into a thumbs up.

Gimme all you got, Saru!

Apparently the message got across clearly, because Saruhiko’s lips curled up a tiny bit. His eyes shut briefly as he ran lube-covered fingers down his dick to coat it, a little shudder rocking his body. As Yata watched, momentarily enchanted by the sight, he let out a shaky, desperate murmur of, “Misaki.”

“Nn.” The sound escaped Yata unconsciously, though whether it was in response to the visual, the voice, or the feeling of Saruhiko’s dick pressing against the base of his ass wasn’t entirely clear to him. His head felt foggy with lust. “Yeah… Saruhiko…”

And then Saruhiko was pressing inside him, and the sharp sting that accompanied the stretch as his body spread to accommodate took all the breath out of him in a rush. For the first few seconds he tensed up, until the pain of the initial entry started to ease and he could focus more on the actual sensation of being filled.

It was… pretty hot, no surprise.

As the stars started to clear from his vision and reality intruded in that bubble of feeling, Yata became aware of Saruhiko’s eyes on him. That gaze was a storm of emotion, though it was hard to place all of it. Mostly, he got the impression of need - desperation. Saruhiko shut his eyes shortly after they made contact, lashes standing out on the flushed skin beneath them. He was clearly holding himself back.

That was sorta endearing. Yata took in a breath and let it out in a huff, smiling. “Hey.” He reached up with shaky fingers to brush the damp fringe of dark hair away from Saruhiko’s face. “M’good. Move.”

It was short, but effective. Saruhiko opened his eyes again, a fire seeming to light within their depths, and his grip on Yata’s hips tightened just a fraction before he shifted his own hips forward to push all the way inside.

It hit them both; Yata unintentionally dropped his head back, fractured shivers of pleasure and pain seeming to shoot all along the lines of his frayed nerves. In the same moment, Saruhiko moaned loudly, mouth dropping open and eyes fluttering shut.

Fuck… good…

There wasn’t space to think deeply about it, even if Yata had been capable of it; their eyes met, and there was no doubt they were on the same wavelength. Yes, more, faster… There was less pain and more delicious sliding and filling as Saruhiko pulled out and thrust back in, the tension in Yata’s lower body building all the more with each motion.

He couldn’t have helped it if he’d wanted to. Yata worked his hand between his legs and took his own cock in hand, thumbing the moisture weeping from the tip and letting out an involuntary moan as he began to jerk himself to Saruhiko’s pace.

It didn’t take long. Assaulted by sensation from within and without, Yata reached the breaking point quickly, release seeming to shudder through him in waves of intense pleasure.

Above him, Saruhiko abruptly bit his lip, eyes wild with desperation, and thrust twice more in hard, fast succession before stiffening up and letting out a low cry. His cock twitched within Yata’s body, a little rush of warmth accompanying it. The sensation brought another unexpected jolt of pleasure and a last spurt of come from Yata’s dick at the tail end of his orgasm. He was still trembling in its wake as Saruhiko’s whole body started to shake violently and he abruptly slumped forward, spent.

The fractured remnants of Yata’s thoughts seemed to melt back into the bed along with his weary muscles. For that first moment of afterglow, he stared up at Saruhiko’s slack face with a kind of wonder, lulled by the echo of their shared breathing.

We really just did that, huh? It felt unreal, but also right. Like something that should’ve happened ages ago.

Well… plenty of time still to make up for that.

Saruhiko seemed to come back to himself around the same time as Yata, raising his head wearily so their gazes met. A faint, almost bewildered little smile was playing on his lips.

Yata found the responding grin spreading on his own before he thought about it, and reached up impulsively to cup the side of that flushed face above him, gratified when Saruhiko shut his eyes and leaned into the touch. In that moment of mutual openness, he didn’t mind blurting out the first lazy thought that came to mind.

“Happy birthday, me.”

#k #sarumi #sarumi fest 2019 #fanfic #fanfic:mine #sarumi day #happy birthday yata

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