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Haruki was washing his and Akihiko’s dishes after finishing a nice meal the other had made of fried rice and veggies, topped with some mystery meat that was on sale in the convenience store the blonde worked at, accompanied with copious amounts of beer for them both. He hoped nothing would break this time. His hands weren’t in complete coordination with his brain, and he may or may not have used a little too much soap. It seems whenever he got drunk, his hatred of the sight of dirty dishes would rise, being in direct correlation with the chance of him breaking things. Whatever, though, he’d just be extra careful.
He had a smile on his lips that wasn’t going away, and the overall mood of the evening was incredibly comfortable and warm. They were humming and singing along with whatever song came up on Akihiko’s YouTube playlist called “Songs Haru Would Like”, that was less all over the place genre-wise than his Liked Songs that he usually just put on shuffle and had decidedly more Pop in it.
His hands full of soap, Haruki suddenly realized that he was supposed to upload a photo to the band’s social accounts earlier and it had completely slipped his mind. He told Akihiko as much, asking that the guy find a worthy picture.
“Ah… Sure, but I have YouTube open on my phone, should I stop the music?” His boyfriend asks from his seat at the dining table. Haruki still somehow felt a little thrill whenever he thought of Akihiko as his boyfriend.
“Nah, just get my phone, I have a Favorites folder in my gallery, there should be something good there,” the older man replies, making a dismissing motion with one of his hands which throws some soap in Akihiko’s direction. The drummer follows its descent to a spot on the floor near his shoe and wonders if it had been aimed at him.
“Hmm, okay…” says Akihiko, picking up Haruki’s phone, “it’s locked though, what’s the passcode?”
“It’s ‘1234’” the bassist answers over his shoulder. At the silence that follows this, he turns around, sure enough facing Akihiko’s judging face. The one he got whenever Haruki was being ‘basic’.
“I just want us to take a moment to acknowledge that you are not, in fact, 80 years old, and as such, this is not, in fact, okay.” Akihiko says while raising an eyebrow and making Haruki doubt his life choices.
“Yeah, whatever, s’not like there’s anything on there that anyone would be interested in anyways.” The older man concludes.
Akihiko grunts in reply while he enters the folder that Haruki mentioned without issue and starts going over the pictures there, narrating to Haruki as he goes. The bass player goes back to his soap filled singing and humming contentedness.
The most recent photo has Mafuyu’s dog, Kedama, mid-charge towards Haru most likely. A happy ball of white fluff and tongue. He imagines his boyfriend getting attacked by the pup seconds after the picture was taken, getting slobber all over his face and complaining even though it was obvious to anyone watching that Haru loved being the target of this attention. “You and Tama,” he says as his heart warms and he swipes to the next photo.
A series of pictures of the two of them holding ice cream cones and being cute is next. Akihiko remembers that day. They met up in the middle of the school day on what was now a regular date, because apparently it was a shared free period for them both. He isn’t sure his heart is going to take much more of this adorableness. He has plenty of pictures of the two of them on his phone, too, but the air of them was just different, less lovey-dovey. It was coming to his attention that he appears to like lovey-dovey, now. Leave it to Haru to make a sap out of him. “A bunch of the two of us when we went out for ice-cream, there’s a really cute one here, could this work?” He asks, turning the screen towards Haruki.
“Oh, that is cute, we’re adorable. But we can’t upload that, we’re keeping this,” he motions back and forth between them, “a secret so that we don’t hurt the band’s popularity, remember?” His tone is light, but Akihiko knows his words still carry the weight and burden of being the band’s manager and just hummed in reply.
Then he swipes to a picture of Haruki and Yatake, the taller man has one arm over Akihiko’s boyfriend while the other is holding the phone up for the photo. Haru is sticking his tongue out in the cutest way and Akihiko’s stomach drops in a sharp sting of jealousy. He knows they’re best friends and have known each other for forever, but he can’t help it. It doesn’t help that he knows how much the glasses wearing bastard distinctly disapproves of him. “You and Yatake,” he grumbles out.
His jealousy subsides when he swipes over again, though, seeing a picture that was almost the exact same as the previous, except distinctly more chaotic, the difference being Yayoi’s widely smiling self glomping the two guys from behind in a blur, hand on each of their shoulders, pulling them both backwards and causing their eyes to show distress while everything else about them is still static. “And Yayoi.” Bless her.
Then he sees a picture of an aged manga magazine cover featuring NANA that looks like it’s taped to a wall. It’s in blue tones and has a dark haired, smoking man who’s looking at a fish. The man has a Sid Vicious-esque lock chained to his neck. Akihiko’s hand shoots to his own neck where a similar lock currently rests. “So… This lock thing isn’t because you’re a Sex Pistols fan, huh?” He smirks at Haruki, who can’t see with his back to him, but he can hear it in his tone.
Akihiko hears something clattering in the sink, luckily not sounding broken, and Haru freezes in his spot for a moment, not turning around. The drummer can see the ear that’s in his line of view turning red and considers getting up and going to look at what was sure to be an adorably blushing 23-year-old bearded man. He decides to spare him for now, content in teasing from where he’s seated. “What’s this manga about, anyway?” He asks.
“It’s this Shoujo manga about two girls called Nana. One of them is in a band. That guy’s her… boyfriend, I guess. They like the Sex Pistols.” He says all this very quickly, still not turning around. “My sister got me really into it in high school and it’s good, okay?” He finally turns his head towards Akihiko, his faux glare daring him to continue snarking.
“Okay,” the drummer replies, raising his hands in defense until Haruki turns back around and continues with the dishes.
He flips through a few photos of a kitten that Haru has told him was Yatake’s (it’s a white cat called Shiro. Did all country folk have to be so basic?) before reaching the picture that he had sent to his boyfriend upon his demand, of himself and Ugetsu in their high school days - sans Ugetsu who has been brutally cropped out, only his knee and some bangs showing - dressed in girls’ uniforms. His skirt having had to be fastened closed with safety pins. He couldn’t for the life of him see why Haruki was so obsessed with this photo, he considered questioning him on the subject, but had thought better of it. He did not want to find himself in women’s clothing again.
There are a bunch of pictures of nice sceneries that seem mostly like they belong to some assignment for one of the Film major’s classes. The last in this sequence is a picture of a dragonfly, its wings pinched by two fingers that are the only remnant of humans in the frame, and in the background there’s a riverbank at the foot of train tracks, a blurry train in the distance. The photo is in beautiful hues of early morning sunrise, which is catching in a twinkling on the dragonfly’s wings. Akihiko knows exactly when it was taken, seeing as the fingers in the photo are his own. He doesn’t say anything about it, he doesn’t quite trust his voice. He just sends it to himself.
There are photos of dogs at the park, some music equipment that Haru probably wanted to remember the model of, artful shots of bass guitars that he suggests might be nice to upload, but the other man says they “aren’t what [he] had in mind, though it might be nice to take a shot of all [their] instruments some time to upload.”
“Our instruments, huh?” Akihiko is quick to answer with a leer.
“Hmm, this has taken a sharp pedophilic turn, are you sure you’re sticking with that joke?” Haruki replies and breaks into giggles at the blonde’s look of impressed disgust.
Akihiko keeps flipping through the photos, finally reaching an amazing shot of them from their first live show with Mafuyu, “Ah! This is a good one, I’m guessing Yatake took it during our show and sent it to you!” He gets up to show Haruki the picture from closer, but just when he’s looking, the drummer remembers that it’s “already uploaded.” They both end up saying in unison.
He sighs, leaning against the countertop as he swipes to the next picture, when all of a sudden, the older man turns his whole body sharply in his direction, a flurry of soap and panic, reaching out his hands to grab the phone away from Akihiko while exclaiming, “aaaah, I suddenly remembered, I have a different folder for the band photos I haven’t uploaded, silly me!” He tries to swipe at the phone, but the blonde has caught on already, turning away from his reach and staring at what he was sure would be either a nude picture of Haruki or some idol’s poster. What he wasn’t expecting was to find himself looking at a picture of… himself. Sleeping. Gnawing on his own bottom lip. Something about the way his cheeks are puffed out in this photo, coupled with Haruki’s reaction, makes him think how maybe his boyfriend's motives were less innocent than what he would like to have him think.
"So why did this one make you lose your shit?" he asks, brushing off suds from, well, all over himself. “Is this maybe… Is this picture a side dish of yours? Did my sleeping face make you want to splash it with more than soap?” He smirks as he scoops the soap off from his cheek onto two fingers, holding it in between them and blowing it teasingly in Haruki’s direction.
Haruki looks just about ready to explode with embarrassment. He is looking straight at the floor, determinedly avoiding Akihiko’s eyes, "no! Y-you were just being so cute that I couldn't help but take a picture," he is clearly ashamed of himself. He plunges his face into his open palms, hiding farther, ignoring their wetness.
The drummer is beginning to feel a little bad with how obviously uncomfortable this is making his boyfriend, when he only meant to tease him a little before continuing his search for a picture to upload, but it suddenly dawns on him. This picture was taken before they were dating. This is from around the time of their first show as a foursome. Haru is right to be feeling uncomfortable about it, it isn’t an entirely okay thing to have done.
But man, the thought of his perfect, pristine Haruki Nakayama pulling on his dick guiltily while looking at this picture after Akihiko left in the early morning, having slept off the alcohol, well – It’s hot.
Switch flipped, he brushes the back of his fingers in circles over Haru’s jean clad thigh with one hand as the other slowly pries the hands away from the bass player’s still pink face, raising his head by the chin so that he’d meet his eyes as he gently shushes him, assuring him it’s okay until he looks more at ease.
The hand under Haru’s chin slides to the nape of his neck, where Akihiko begins scratching lightly through the short hairs, in sync with the circles being traced on the older man’s thigh. “Tell me?” He asks in a husky whisper and Haruki is finally taking in Akihiko’s blown out pupils, understanding that his words of encouragement aren’t empty, “describe what you think of when you’re using this picture? What you do?”
Haruki gulps in air as he tries to straighten out a response, but he’s still at a loss for words, so the other continues, “is it the way my cheeks are puffed out? Are you imagining your cock stuffing them?” At this he removes the hand from Haruki’s neck to make a crude gesture, being quite literally tongue in cheek, his crassness effectively breaking the mood.
Haruki is speechless in a different way now, but he recuperates just in time to stop further assumptions from his boyfriend. “I didn’t use the picture to masturbate!” He half shouts in his rush to do so.
Akihiko looks taken aback. He mumbles out an “oh,” moving a little back and giving Haruki room to breathe. The longer haired man realizes that his boyfriend seems, in fact, disappointed at this. Looks like he was looking forward to Haruki’s description. He decides to play nice. He reaches the blonde’s arm to catch his attention, “I… I didn’t masturbate to the picture,” he says again and then with a certain lilt to his voice, he continues, “but, um… When you left that morning, I was feeling pretty pent up.”
The drummer looks like a kid that had his candy taken but then was given a bigger piece instead. He gets what Haru is doing. His eyes shine with fondness as he gets closer to the other again, placing his hand on the countertop behind him as he presses their lips together softly, “hmm, tell me more,” he murmurs against Haruki’s lips.
“Yeah?” the bassist retorted in the same tone, “why don’t I show you instead?”
“How about both? Both is good.” Akihiko says as the hand that wasn’t behind Haruki goes to the small of his back, pulling him even closer as the drummer pries at his lips with his tongue, intentionally or not swiping the metallic piercing head all across the seam of Haruki’s mouth and causing him to let out a gasp that the other took advantage of to deepen their kiss, tongue and piercing moving to the roof of Haru’s mouth, the back of it clanging against the back of his teeth a little as he melts against him, allowing more weight to be supported by the hand on his lower back.
Akihiko takes this as his que to slide said hand under the other’s ass, encouraging Haruki to jump up and wrap his legs around him by lightly pushing up against the underside. The few dishes remaining lay forgotten in the sink as the drummer starts moving away from the kitchen. Halting just outside it to press him against the wall, finally detaching their lips and moving his own to the spot where the bass player’s neck meets his jaw, teasing with his teeth as he asks, “where did you do it?”
Haruki sighs, grabbing the back of Akihiko’s head to keep him in place while screening out, “the sofa, it had your smell.”
The blonde hitches him higher as they once more detach from the wall, now moving straight to the living room, to the couch. His lips leave Haruki’s skin once more, but the bass player finds it hard to complain when he’s being lifted like this, like he carries no weight at all. Akihiko’s arm muscles flexing in the best ways, veins popping, making him wish he had an opening to attach his mouth to them, all while being contrastively turned on by giving up his control of the situation. Akihiko is dictating what Haruki is about to confess, Akihiko is dictating where it’s about to happen and currently Akihiko is also dictating when Haruki’s feet are going to hit the ground again.
They don’t, actually. Instead, the younger man throws Haruki on the sofa when they reach it, making him flail only a little in surprise, his shirt riding up slightly. His hand instinctively goes to pull it down, but he stops, thinking better of it.
His boyfriend is standing above him, watching with bated breath as Haruki fingers the hem of his shirt, tickling his belly beneath it and humming before reaching his hand under it, making sure the shirt is caught in the motion and rides up to reveal his tingling skin as his hand travels across it. “As soon as you left, I lay down here. It wasn’t intentional. I was just tired since I didn’t catch any sleep, being the creepy creep that I was and staring at you pretty much all the long, short, three hours of sleep you got that night. I just couldn’t get over how peaceful and defenseless you looked, all scrunched up on this sofa that’s shorter than you.” He extends a leg out beyond the arm rest for emphasis but soon pauses, hisses as his fingernail is caught on a nipple in his hand’s roaming. His leg involuntarily stretches to en pointe before slowly coming down again.
Akihiko collapses to a cross legged sitting position on the floor, eyes never leaving Haruki’s form. His boyfriend jumps a little at the sudden noise and movement but soon continues, splaying his long fingers with his rough fingertips across his chest and applying some more pressure now, his nipples perked as another hand joins the first, one staying to explore his torso, occasionally rising to scratch at his neck and scalp, as the other inches down, teasing at the first button of his jeans.
There’s definitely an added thrill in his boyfriend watching him, the younger’s left hand crawling to his own groin to press over his clothed erection as his right holds onto the edge of the sofa tightly, restraining himself from breaching their unspoken agreement of No Touching.
Haruki isn’t quite there yet as he unbuttons the top two of five buttons and reaches into his jeans, “I was suddenly surrounded by your scent, the warmth that was left on these cushions when you’d gone. I-” he lets out a choked little moan as his fingers reach his half hard cock, “I couldn’t help myself, the smell alone got me going so bad,” he bites down on his bottom lip as he starts pulling, not unlike Akihiko in the photo that started all of this. He’s maybe not as gentle as would be advised, going back and forth over his foreskin, the slight roughness adding to his pleasure, and pretty soon he reaches full hardness, his pants getting too tight for comfort.
“Mm, yeah, Baby. Then what?” Akihiko’s eyelids flutter prettily as he’s half imagining and half observing Haruki, his tongue sticking out a little, caught in his teeth in his concentration. Haruki gets stuck for a moment, transfixed and forgetting that he is the one that’s leading this time around.
“Hnngh - I took my pants off,” he whispers and provides, baring his legs and setting free what is now a full-blown erection and gasping as he feels the cool night air hitting it. He considers getting rid of his shirt that had bunched up under one arm and around his neck as well, but soon decides against it, going for credibility over comfort.
His cheeks tint in an ever deeper red as he continues, “I imagined what it would be like to suck you off right here, holding my hair back and letting you dirty me up. Face, chest, you name it.” He seems to have caught his boyfriend unprepared. The blonde’s eyes widen almost comically before he groans deeply and also undoes his pants, gracelessly spitting on his palm then pulling his dick out to stroke. Not bothering to fully undress. To him, nothing could justify taking his eyes off of Haru at the moment. Watching as the older man pinches at a nipple while gliding his palm across the slit of his cock, gathering some wetness that collected there to ease the slide of it up and down his shaft.
Akihiko is subconsciously mirroring the way the other’s hand moved. Haruki moans as he notices this, “I - I thought about how you’d react, waking up to the sight.” His hand accelerates in its movements, his words becoming more and more breathy, “you’d be confused at first, sure, but then – hah – you would pull me up for a kiss, mm-make me cum with your hand, tell me how beautiful I am, how our feelings were mutual.”
“So beautiful, so perfect – Haru,” The blonde rambles out.
And it’s these praises that carry Haruki over the edge, whining as he comes. Forcing himself to keep his eyes open as Akihiko is spilling next to him with a grunt.
They’re both panting hard for a moment before the younger man pulls Haruki’s face towards him at an awkward angle, kissing him a little sloppily while still mumbling his graces. He slowly moves up to the couch as well, laying beside his boyfriend.
Akihiko is tracing shapes on Haruki’s now clothed back when his partner seems suddenly flustered, “I can’t believe I forgot that I moved all those band pictures to a different folder. I did it just last week!” he cries out, making the drummer bark with laughter. He strokes his hair in mock condolences, “There there, I don’t think the outcome was all that bad.” He says and lays a kiss on the crown of the head in front of him. He can’t help but continue to tease, “also, just putting it out there, but I’m totally up to being woken up like that. Thought you should know.”
He sees tips of ears redden as Haruki furrows into his chest and grumbles out several “oh my god”s and feels his heart squeezing with fondness.
