Chapter Text
“H—ah, baby— Sei—!”
The back of Nagi’s head hits the pillow with a loud thump. He’s pushed into it from the force of the rocking on top of him, of the legs perched on his sides, keeping him still firmly.
His hair is a complete mess, spread out in uneven parts all over the place. Still— it doesn’t rival the mess above him.
Reo heaves as his hands drop to rest on Nagi’s drenched chest. They’re scorching hot, almost burning to the touch. Every rock of his hips causes the bed frame to stutter against the wall.
If Nagi wasn’t so preoccupied cradling Reo’s back, keeping him anchored through his climax, he’d pull them to his lips and kiss them. One kiss for each of them.
Nagi opens his eyes slowly. Blinking away the haze and welcoming the fog.
Above him, Reo’s whole body trembles as he comes down from their shared high— completely surrendered to Nagi's tight hold.
With beauty that rivals any angel.
Even if it’s obscene.
Doesn’t matter. Nagi thinks, eyes wandering from tear-strained cheeks to dirty muscle, steaming skin and bruised hips. Bruises he left. Still as perfect.
“Baby,” Reo whispers with his eyes clenched shut, voice cracking. “Ha— amazing. Gets better every single time..”
The praise coats Nagi as easily as it always does. Coaxing him to draw Reo closer. To crowd him against his chest despite the stickiness of their skin. Run circles across his back, slide his hands to where he shudders.
It’s always hard to talk right after doing it. Too hot. Too overwhelming, limbs too tired, Reo too pretty to not be worshipped—
Yeah, talking’s a total hassle when the light of your life is praising your name so sweetly above you. Still effortlessly taking you so beautifully. Which is almost as bliss inducing as when he’s actually moving.
Reo adjusts his seating as Nagi slowly eases his legs to bend upwards behind him. His ankles dig into the mattress, Reo’s hands resting on his knees.
Finally, the midfielder catches his breath.
Reo flicks a finger against Nagi’s chest. “Good?” He murmurs, eyes still lidded. “So serious looking, Sei. Breathe.”
Nagi nods roughly where he’s pushed into the pillow. It’s rough and somewhat disgusting with all the dried sweat and tears. Though, the discomfort doesn’t last long. Not with the soft touch of Reo’s lips tenderly taking their time placing their imprints all across Nagi’s face.
Reo lands one kiss on the side of his face, gently cupping his jaw to angle him. Then another one in the centre of his forehead— until he’s hovering right over Nagi’s lips, excruciatingly close.
Nagi’s sure their breaths are mingling tighter than their bodies. The hands on his face keep him from nudging forward— to connect them.
It’s infuriating, but also anticipation kicking.
Reo’s lips form a tender smile. He sighs, leaning forward in a way that makes Nagi’s heart rattle against his ribs.
Two soft lips press against the side of Nagi’s mouth.
“Reo..” Nagi whines, impatient. He ignores the soft giggle against his lips. “You’re being a tease. Just kiss me.”
“Haven’t I given you enough for one night?”
Reo’s voice is teasing, coy. Just as sinister and plotting as his small smirk. All the while his fingers play with the skin around the hickeys on Nagi’s flushed neck, pulling small gasps out of the striker.
As to say: aren’t these enough?
They’re not.
“No.” Nagi rasps out, low. His eyes meet Reo’s above him.
Perhaps to punish— or perhaps just to keep Nagi as anticipated for more— Reo rocks his hips backwards. Sharply, hard but light. Full of intention, almost as if he’s reminding Nagi that he’s still taking him— which while Reo might not know it, Nagi totally is aware of.
Pleasure racks through his lower abdomen, making his fingers tingle with the need to grasp more of Reo’s flesh. It’s overwhelming. Everything’s still too raw, too fleshed out. Too overpowering.
When Nagi takes hold of the midfielder’s hips in the middle of their rocking, it elicits groans from the both of them.
Reo’s forehead knocks into Nagi’s. He’s as breathless as his partner. Still, he’s smiling like an angel on earth, eyes glassy.
Nagi’s chest beats erratically. His hands curl deeper into his partner’s skin, desperate to keep him still. To keep him from jostling their connection even more.
“Reo—“
A giggle escapes Reo’s lips. “I know, baby. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t sound apologetic at all. Proud, almost.
Nagi doesn’t have time to bite back before purple bangs fall over his face and soft, wet and warm lips grace his. Reo mews into the kiss. It’s not rushed. Not like before, when everything felt urgent. Not now— when they’ve got all the time in the world.
Following along the careful tempo Reo has set, Nagi keeps his hands gently on his hips. He tilts his head whenever Reo does, presses their faces together, pushes Reo into it even more. Especially when he earns a gasp or two in return.
Tender and soft— sweet like sugar, slow like an evening tide. A lot different from the heat of falling into bed with Reo clinging to his body.
Still as addicting.
Recently, Nagi’s noticed how his thoughts drift to something lots more complicated than —Reo, Reo, Reo— whenever they’re intimate.
Not just when it’s, well, in bed. But everywhere. Anywhere where there’s Reo.
Maybe it’s because they’re now officially boyfriends kissing and not best friends. Maybe because now he wakes up to a mess of Reo every morning. Not just the phantom thought of him.
Reo hums sweetly against his lips. One of his hands lands next to Nagi’s head, resting heavily on the pillow. Nagi takes it as a sign to keep going.
He assumes it’s always been unavoidable. Loving Reo comes with a price: always having him on your mind. Nagi wouldn’t say he’ll ever have too much Reo on his mind— but he’s been struggling as of lately. After they officially started dating. Things have felt.. different.
There’s always Reo on his mind. How Reo’s hair glows in the sun, how warm he feels against him, how silly he looks trying to trim his eyebrows. The weird food quirks he has. What he likes, what he dislikes. However, lately, the thoughts have felt so intense that Nagi’s been close to exploding. They’re insistent now, probing into his mind in forms of urges.
Urges that Nagi has never, ever felt so intensely as he has lately.
Reo lips slowly stop moving. They stay connected with Nagi’s, parted and shiny. Just— still. Unmoving. Like they’re unsure if they should pull away.
“We should clean up,” Reo mumbles after finally pulling away. “Can’t stay like this forever.”
The increasingly familiar sensation of urgently wanting to stay close, one of the so-called urges, washes over Nagi in a flash. But before he can act on it, Reo leans down to press a lingering kiss on his stomach.
Two gentle hands grip Nagi’s own where they’re clutching Reo’s hips. Slowly, tenderly easing into their hold. To pull them away from his hips.
Nagi keeps his eyes locked on Reo’s expression as the midfielder pulls off of him completely, severing their connection. Lifting himself into the air painfully slowly. As he trembles when he settles down on Nagi’s chest instead, as he lets go of his hands to lay beside him.
When Reo’s finally comfortable lying on his side— somewhat trembling, still tangling their limbs together— their faces are mere inches apart.
Lying side by side. Staring into each other’s eyes.
Not even a second manages to pass before Reo can’t keep his hands to himself. Or: keep himself from Nagi’s body. The difference between the two disappeared long ago.
His leg drapes over Nagi’s naked chest, pulling himself flushed against the striker’s side, almost knocking their heads together. Again.
“You always look lost in thought when you have me.” Reo whispers, finger tapping on Nagi’s forehead. “Anything that involves me here?”
“Only.” Nagi declares.
The best part about being with a naked Reo is the easy way of seeing his skin flush. And all the other stuff, of course.
Nagi pulls him closer with a hand on his neck.
“Always you Reo, nothing else. No one. I don’t know— don’t care why, but—“ he inhales shakier than he should. “When we’re like this.. I want so much of you I already have. To hold you, kiss until you surrender to pleasure,”
Reo’s lips part, nothing comes out.
“Reo. When I get to have you like this, I feel like a lunatic.”
Suddenly at a loss of words— both from disbelief of himself and pure exhaustion— Nagi swiftly regains the part of himself that had been keeping everything together.
Reo’s eyes are lidded with an intensity that has him in a chokehold.
“You’re saying I rode you to insanity?”
Nagi’s skin prickles at Reo’s voice. Slow and dirty, shameless but beautiful, obscene yet utterly captivating. And with the way his eyes shine with desire: arousing, too.
Ah. Nagi’s grip tightens. Reo’s so hot.
“Yeah.” He says, eyes darkening. “You drive me insane, Reo. There’s so much I want—“
“Yeah? Like what?” Reo breathes out, high pitched. His body slips closer. So close that he’s covering all of Nagi’s side.
When he briefly brushes the skin that makes the striker convulse with pleasure, Nagi uses the hand on Reo’s neck as leverage to pull their faces closer.
Reo narrowly dodges his mouth. Instead, his lips hover over his ear.
“Seishirou.” he whispers. So close that the vibrations make Nagi’s skin rise. He pulls the striker’s arms around him. “You can hold me,”
Nagi stares wide eyed as Reo’s face reappears moments later. Nose touching his. Hands holding his face lightly— not to restrain, just to egg him on.
Reo presses his thumb against Nagi’s bottom lip.
“Kiss me. But—“
Nagi’s arms tighten around his body. Hard. Enough to leave bruises.
“I surrendered the second you had me in your arms. Always will, even if you’re insane.”
It’s all the permission Nagi needs to give in to his urges.
It's golden light and Reo’s warm body that Nagi wakes up to. Not the usual bird chatter and pitch black darkness. Just, slower. Gentler.
His limbs feel excruciatingly heavy. Like after practice with Reo— the whole team, actually. But Reo’s truly the only eye catcher— when all he wants is to sleep.
Reo’s still snoring so softly beside him. Peaceful, lulled to sleep by the sound of Nagi’s even heart beat. Clueless to the fact that he’s cutting off the blood supply to his partner’s arm. But Nagi doesn’t have the heart to wake him. Or the will.
The striker presses their bodies closer underneath the white sheets. Chest to Reo’s backside. The skin there is blooming in different hues of red and purple. Nagi’s free arm is curled around the midfielder’s revealed waist. Not pressing, just there. Possessive.
Reo hums softly into his pillow when Nagi slides their bodies closer together. Nagi relishes in the sounds, the pliantness of Reo’s body, the tantalising sweetness of post-sex air and morning dew.
When Nagi kisses the skin underneath Reo’s ear, the midfielder’s lips part to let out a soft sigh. He squirms slightly in his sleep. Further into Nagi’s chest. Back arching just the littlest.
Every small sound that leaves Reo’s lips fuels Nagi even more. To kiss, hold him even closer, press Reo down gently into the sheets so he wakes up. To see that look of confusion wash over face as he takes to his surroundings. To see Reo melt into what he’s giving him. For him to arch further off the mattress, leave room for Nagi’s arms to slip under his back. Fall into pleasure.
It’s addictive. Nagi runs a gentle hand across taut skin. Gently touching the bruises there, soaking in every reaction he earns in reply.
Reo looks as sweet as he tastes. Especially in the mornings after their love making. Moments like these make him shine. Hair messy, muscles relaxed, body a sculpture.
And it’s all, every single part of it, for Nagi—
Their front door bursts open with a loud bang. The door rattles against its frame, echoing all the way to the bedroom.
Nagi’s already pressing Reo underneath him when the midfielder bursts awake from his peaceful slumber.
“Seishirou—?”
Nagi quickly moves to keep Reo’s hands from thrashing against his chest. He shushes him gently, coaxing him to stay quiet.
He’s got no clue who could possibly be slamming their locked door open, just that Reo’s so vulnerable underneath him, and if someone’s about to bash their bedroom door’s open too he won’t hesitate to kick their face in like a football.
An urge to protect.
The door slides open quicker than disgruntled Reo can stop Nagi from fully covering his body with his own.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake— put some clothes on!”
In the doorway looking moments away from popping an artery, stands a familiar red haired striker.
Nagi stares with wide eyes as Chigiri throws a discarded shirt over towards them from the floor. He doesn’t move. He can’t. Not yet. Not while the adrenaline is still pumping through his veins.
“Chigiri?” Reo groans, peeking his head out. Nagi quickly covers his lidded eyes from the sun.
“Do you two have any idea how long we’ve been waiting? I’ve had to listen to Isagi’s dumb music for a whole hour! Stop messing around— and get a grip!”
Chigiri slams the door closed, footsteps rolling down the hallway. It’s only when the faint sound of the front door falling into place sounds through the air that Nagi lets himself relax.
Beneath him, still trapped by his arms, Reo stuffs his head into his neck. Breathing in sharply. “Mhn, you still smell like sweat and yuzu— just woke up? Haven’t showered yet?”
“How’d he get in?” Nagi says instead of replying. Vigilance still has its grip on him.
“Extra key. Gave it to him last month.” Reo swiftly hooks his arms around the striker’s neck, avoiding the obvious crease in Nagi’s brows. “How about we hop in the shower and clean up, hm? Just you, me, and—“
Nagi shakes his head with a sigh. Seemingly trying to keep himself from giving in to the gentle stroking on his nape.
“We have time.” The midfielder whispers, right into his ear. “Why are you so shaken?”
“I’m not.”
Reo raises a small eyebrow. “I’ve told you I gave him a key before. Plus, I also told you we had plans today. Obviously they’d come over. Did you forget?”
“Sorry.” Nagi mumbles, closing his eyes. “Don’t be angry, Reo..”
A giggle bursts from his lips “Angry? After that? How could I be? You looked like you were about to bash someone’s head into our nightstand just to keep me safe.”
Well. Nagi thinks. That was the idea, yeah.
It hit faster than he could think. Insanity, perhaps. An urge to protect. It’s not exactly new. Whenever Nagi’s been around Reo there’s always been that underlying need for him to be safe. Yet, this felt weirder.
Reo had said he wants any weird, unusual part of him that could form. But what about this? “.. So. It was okay? Not— insane?”
“Insane?” Reo breathes, exasperated. “Yeah. Sexy? Even more so. You’re hot. And your hands feel great in the morning. I think that makes up for me having to handle some insanity.”
“You’re sure?”
Reo smiles, placing a lingering kiss on the edge of Nagi’s jaw. “Yeah. Let’s get going before we’re beyond late.”
Nagi easily shifts the wheel between his hands, letting it roll on its own as the main road smoothly glides back into view.
Chigiri fits into the rear view mirror— a hand stretched out to block Isagi’s own. Isagi’s holding his phone in the air. Apparently showing something absurd enough for the red haired striker to groan in disgust.
Beside him, Reo’s fully leaned back in the passenger seat. Looking at the trees that pass.
Driving is a hassle as a whole— Nagi didn’t get a license because he enjoys it. It started as a small thought in the back of mind. Not exactly a pressing matter, but a weird feeling of want. A need to be viable. Useful for Reo.
Then, it festered into an urge. One of the weird ones.
Whenever Nagi sat in the passenger seat with Reo behind the wheel, he couldn’t help but think that, well, accidents are prone to happen. The chance of them getting into one isn’t exactly beyond reality.
And for some reason, the thought of being the one driving— with Reo in the passenger seat— was relieving.
Nagi got his license on his first try. Since then he hasn’t been holding back. Wherever they need to go, he’s driving. Reo pressed him about it a few times. But in the end, his tendency to shower his treasure in praise took over his curiosity for the matter.
Now, Nagi gets to take care of him and bask in compliments. All the while soothing his urge to keep Reo safe from traffic jams. Reo even lets him rest his hand on his thigh.
So, Nagi drives better when the midfielder’s buckled down in the passenger seat. He just can’t help but.. worry, whenever he’s not the one driving Reo around. And apparently Isagi had noticed that, too.
“Whenever I’m driving you and Reo, I have to keep an extra eye on your seatbelt, in case you break it. Not sure what problem you’ve got— but please.. keep it off the highway.. and away from my car while you’re at it.”
Isagi said that around a week after Nagi got his license. This morning he said:
“Nagi’s driving. Reo, front seat. Chigiri, no questions.”
Short and easy. Leaving no room for any further discussion.
Nagi curls his hand tighter around Reo’s soft thigh, sighing heavily as the trees continue to pass by. The warmth of the midfielder’s own hand encircles his own. Squeezing gently.
With a tender smile and a lifted eyebrow, Reo’s head turns to the side. Slowly— like he’s savouring the moment.
Nagi’s eyes avert from the road.
“You’re warm,” Reo says as he runs random figures on the skin of the striker’s hand. “Isagi’s air conditioning is pretty shit. Sorry, treasure.”
“I heard that—“
“Don’t worry about me, Reo.. Loosen your collar. Cashmere’s too warm.”
The midfielder’s hand falters on top of his. Nagi’s eyes switch between the road and Reo’s amused expression. Then, teasing enough for the striker to gasp, Reo grips his hand and takes it further up his thigh.
“Can’t.” He says with a coy grin, other hand pulling down his collar to reveal multiple red marks. “I’d rather keep this between the two of us, only.”
Nagi’s hand spasms as Reo lets it rest right by the dip of his inner thighs.
The sense of being in control is weirdly addictive. At least, that’s what Nagi’s noticed as of lately. Keeping Reo close when he’s deep in conversation. Always resting a hand on him, always faintly pulling him back. It all makes his heart race.
Reo never complains. Only leans in to every touch, sighs at every pull, lids his eyes and tells him to hold him tighter.
Reo’s a force Nagi would never wish to keep restrained. But the midfielder allows himself to break down so sweetly for him, tells him he loves the touching, the marks, the— passive-possessive holds.
Maybe Reo’s addicted, too. To giving in.
The reception to the art gallery is full with busy people. Nagi huffs and groans at every annoying shoulder that gets shoved against his arm — people are too short to be shoulder to shoulder with him.
But Reo seems to be enjoying the big convention, so he doesn’t complain. The midfielder briefs through every painting with Nagi on his heels.
“Did your art teacher also make you draw Monet’s water lily pond when you were little, Sei?” Reo rambles, hands gripping Nagi’s arm. “They put mine up on the wall of accomplishments!”
Maybe, he either doesn’t remember or never cared to follow the instructions. What matters is the pretty shine in Reo’s eyes. The way everything fades away as he smiles.
“Woah— Reo was amazing even with baby hands.”
The midfielder blushes and smiles tenderly, holding back a giggle as he slips them further into the crowd of people.
They lost Chigiri and Isagi hours ago. The two are most likely somewhere escaping Reo’s endless ramblings. Which Nagi thinks is just utterly ridiculous, who wouldn’t want to be in Reo’s light?
Their loss.
Reo slides one of his hands down to grip Nagi’s own. He smiles, reminiscent. “I’ve always liked art. Keeps my mind busy.”
The striker thinks about it for a second. “Reo is art.”
Reo’s eyes widen. He coughs into his free arm, looking elsewhere. “Baby..”
Nagi pouts, curiosity spiked. “What? It’s true. You keep my mind busy all the time. And you look like those old paintings that they keep behind glass, Reo. You’re more beautiful than all these shitty portraits combined—“
Two wet, hot lips glue his mouth shut tight. Nagi startles at the soaring kiss, hands flying to keep Reo braced against him. The midfielder breathes heavily as they part, eyes lidded.
“No more,” Reo forces out. Breathless. Nagi’s wide eyes go to his lips. “Don’t talk like that in public, Sei. Do you want me to faint?”
“I’d catch you.” The striker mumbles, still drunk on cherry lip gloss.
A giggle bursts from Reo’s lips. “Oh, I’m sure. Now shut up— I want to get our money’s worth.”
The rest of the Reo’s guide goes by without any accidents. Before Nagi knows it, they’re rounding back towards the entrance where the others must be waiting.
Isagi and Chigiri meet them by the car, towing a very upset Rin along with them. Nagi’s not sure when he appeared and he can’t get himself to ask, either. Someone says something about a bar and drinking. Again— Nagi’s not sure of the details, just that Reo curled closer to his side at some point.
However, picking up Rin caused a slight problem.
“Ew, no.” Chigiri groans as they bundle together outside the car. “You’re not squeezing me into the middle seat. No way in hell.”
Isagi takes one long look at the four of them, barely listening as he slips back into the driver’s seat. To top it off, Rin rounds the car and pulls open the passenger door even as Chigiri continues to call out to him.
They’re too many to fit in the car. Which shouldn’t happen, if it weren’t for the fact that they’re all either roughly over 6 feet or somewhat below it.
Nagi looks to where Reo is standing beside him. The midfielder’s been strangely quiet since they exited the gallery. “Reo?” He calls, watching as his partner startles at the call.
Reo looks thrown off, but he quickly recovers. “I’m fine. Are we going or not?”
Nagi shrugs but steps closer to the doors anyways, somewhat hesitating. The door slides open to reveal the redhead striker already seated— not in the middle. When did he get there?
“Not moving.” Chigiri draws out, eyes vicious. Nagi mutters something about princess and annoying before he pushes the door shut, pulling Reo over to the other side.
Once they’re inside it becomes obvious that even if Chigiri had taken the middle seat, everyone fitting still wouldn’t have worked. Reo sits in the middle. His thighs press tightly against Nagi’s and the shorter striker. The fit looks uncomfortable.
Just as Nagi’s about to open the door to step outside so Reo won’t have to suffer any longer, something pulls him further inside the car. Hard against his seat.
Reo’s on his lap faster than time itself. His thighs easily sink into Nagi’s own. They’re plushier than the striker’s, less firm, not as wide. Great to hold on to.
Nagi hums with content into Reo’s nape.
“Fuck no— not again..” Chigiri covers his eyes, swearing lowly beneath his hands. The sound of Isagi’s surprised giggling rounds the car.
Yet, all Nagi can hear is the soft breaths coming from Reo’s lips. The ability to function returns to him faster than it should— allowing him to shrink further down so Reo can fit better on his thighs. Then, while pushing his face deep into the midfielder’s shoulder, he wraps his arms around his waist.
“Perfect idea, Reo.” He mumbles. Eyes closed in bliss. “Your brain is amazing.. always knows what I want.”
“Shut up.” Reo grumbles, voice airy. Nagi doesn’t have to see his face to know that he’s blushing.
It’s not the first time they’re in this position. Actually, Nagi would say it’s quite a natural thing they do. He loves it. Seeing Reo fuss, even if he loves it as well, and how quiet the midfielder falls.
The ride is far less bumpy than Nagi would’ve hoped. Which is quite shameless to admit, but also something he makes sure to whisper to the man in his arms.
Which also earns him a harsh pinch in reply.
Nagi doesn’t think about safety at all throughout the ride. He doesn’t have to when he’s got Reo secured in his arms.
Everything’s over faster than expected. Isagi parks somewhere suburban, away from most people. Reo leaves a gentle kiss on his cheek before getting off his lap. Nagi follows quietly.
As they walk towards Chigiri’s bar suggestion Nagi easily falls into his usual place beside Reo. And as usual now that they’re dating, he wordlessly walks closest to the sidewalk’s outside— pulls Reo closer to him when someone passes, arm around his back. Fidgets with the midfielder’s purse strap.
He can’t help it.
The keeping-Reo-safe urge is always weirdly triumphant. Probably because Nagi has no complaints, just compliance.
Inside the bar, Isagi leads them all to the side of the people. They find a table that fits all of them. Not too far from all the commotion or the main bar, but somewhere where they can at least hear each other.
Then— the first round of drinks cross their table.
Chigiri downs at least three tall glasses of something before Nagi can even finish his first. Most likely because the taller wastes most of his time slumped against Reo or swirling around the small paper umbrella inside his drink.
His boyfriend, Reo, who’s on his second drink. Barely slurring his words but laughing slightly lighter than usual. He’s not drunk, just tipsy. Cheeks flushed and touchy with his hands, somewhat fidgety.
Nagi scoots closer so that he can rest his chest on half of Reo’s back. He gets a small squeeze on his knee in response.
The rest of the night goes by quickly. Nagi’s out like a candle, having at some point fallen asleep against the midfielder’s body. No one woke him up. Maybe because he slept too deeply— or because Reo didn’t let them.
He deserves the sleep. Reo must think so, too. They did spend a lot of time at the gallery.
So why isn’t Reo there when he wakes up?
Nagi groans at the hard surface of the bar table. He squints at his drink beside him, left untouched for god knows how long. Looking up despite the strain it takes, he notices the absence of—
Everyone.
.. Huh.
After an endless streak of yawns, Nagi keeps the displeased part of himself quiet and forces himself to stand up. He scoots off the small bench and looks around the loud room. He doesn’t look for red or green, just purple. Purple hair and a classy suit. A glittery purse and high laughter.
Reo’s not on the dancefloor.
Nagi’s running before he can think.
He finds him half dressed in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet with a piece of paper clenched in his hand.
The midfielder moans in discomfort as another wave of nausea washes over him. Nagi’s on him in seconds, dropping to his knees to press his chest to Reo’s back. Reo breathes heavily— finishing his last retch with a slow groan.
Did someone spike his drink?
Sensing Nagi’s sudden tension, Reo shakes his head as if he can read minds. “‘m fine.. Chigiri made me spin twenty times after chugging five shots. Ergo— this.”
Nagi’s hesitant to let him back up. Still, he relents when Reo promises to take it easy.
“You woke up?” The midfielder asks, wiping the sides of mouth. A tender smile. “I was getting some paper, you were drooling all over me. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
Nagi rubs the back of his neck. He’s holding Reo’s purse, which had been thrown onto the floor in the midst of everything. “It’s fine. Reo’s here now. Forever.”
“Forever?” Reo muses, raising a small eyebrow. “You only sipped half your drink, Sei. Don’t get too excited.”
“Reo’s my drug.”
“Seriously, you’re not jumping me in a bar bathroom. Especially not this one.”
They leave the bathroom in light silence. Reo explains how Nagi must’ve woken up when the rest were grabbing drinks, that he’d never leave him alone like that. And that Nagi must be tired— so they should start heading back.
The fact he tortuously pulls at Nagi’s messed up tie only adds to the striker’s suspense towards going home. Except, as they’re heading out after giving their goodbyes, Nagi notices a slight change in his partner’s movements.
A second manages to pass, then:
“Reo— let’s switch shoes.”
Reo falters at the words. “What? Why..? I’m fine, treasure. We just gotta get to the cab.”
But, Nagi’s already untangling their hooked arms to untie his sneakers. It doesn’t matter whether Reo wants to suffer through walking in heeled shoes or not, not when the striker’s mind is screaming at him to relieve the discomfort.
Reo’s heels— not quite heels, but heeled for sure. Nagi’s not exactly a shoe expert— don’t fit Nagi himself.
“That.. might just break your little toe.” Reo mumbles. Half in awe, half concerned. His feet fit the sneakers, barely. But it’s enough for Nagi’s heartbeat to even out.
This is what his body is urging him to do. To carry Reo’s burdens, keep him worshipped.
Even if it means toe removal.
“I’ve got it under control, Reo.” Nagi ushers his partner forward. He’s his boyfriend, and this is what boyfriends do. “My toes are titanium. They’re maxed out. Doesn’t hurt.”
He ignores the feeling of his toes being poked with a thousand needles.
“If you say so..” Reo finally agrees. “Ah, but at least let me carry my purse—“
“No.”
“You weren’t this traditional before.”
Nagi stops his gentle caressing over Reo’s stomach. Who’s half asleep, wearing one of Nagi’s arcade hoodies. The hoodie is nothing but cheap and worn out. Still, Reo shows a continuous liking to wearing Nagi’s shitty clothes. As soon as they got home he threw one on.
It’s.. amusing, to see Reo in his clothes. It’s not quite the same visionary as the thought of Reo in one of Japan’s national jersey’s with Nagi’s own name on his back— but it’s as addicting. As is every Reo fantasy.
“Huh?”
“Boyfriend-likey. Doing so much for me, always so close, never batting anyone else an eye.” Reo giggles. “You know, switching shoes is the oldest trick in the book.”
Well, it does align perfectly with all the urges he’s been having.
“You’ve been weirdly assertive, too.” Reo whispers. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” He hits Nagi lightly on the shoulder when the striker pouts. “Hey, don’t be like that. I like it.”
“It’s embarrassin..”
Reo snorts. “Right. Because when did you care about that?”
“I do, Reo. You deserve the best boyfriend ever.” Nagi looks away, suddenly self conscious. “One who knows exactly what you want. Opens doors for you, carries your bags, wants you safe. All the time. Never wavers. Never lets you go.”
His hands feel clammy. Warm from Reo’s flushed skin, but sweaty from anxiety.
A glass of water sits on the table between the tv and the sofa. Nagi had fetched it for Reo as soon as they got home. Now, he kinda wants to drown in it.
Reo’s hand trembles over his own. “Oh— sweetheart, you’re—“
“Right.” Nagi finishes, voice low and eyes cast downward.
“—describing yourself.”
Nagi stiffens. The words land heavily on his chest. Partly because of their emotional impact, more so because Reo’s quite literally on his chest.
The midfielder turns his head around slowly, running one hand along Nagi’s arm. The striker’s breath hitches.
“Are you this stupid by choice?” Reo whispers, no real fire behind his words. “You’re all you described and more, treasure. You’re the whole book. The whole— heck, recipe, all of it.”
Reo unravels himself from Nagi’s hold despite the obvious lack of compliance from the other. He twists his body around, bracketing his legs on each side of Nagi’s sides. Chest to chest.
“If I couldn’t still taste the bitter taste of vomit in my throat, I’d suck you dry. That'd kick some sense into you.”
Nagi’s eyes widen marginally. It’s probably not supposed to be able to drag your mouth open, but for him, it does.
Reo thumbs at his parted lips. “Where’s all this coming from, anyways?” He asks. “You already know I’d marry you if we could.”
Right, because it’s illegal. It’s illegal so he can’t see Reo in bridal white— the thought makes the striker’s throat dry up. Nagi swallows thickly. His head falls back against the couch, messing up his hair even worse. “I’ve been feeling weird.” He admits.
“Weird?” Reo probes, eyebrows furrowing with worry. One of his hands cups Nagi’s forehead. “You’re not sick, are you?”
“No. I’ve just been getting these.. strange urges.”
“Urges.” Reo echoes.
Nagi sighs. Not in defeat, or annoyance, just to show Reo that he’s still there. Willing to listen, to share.
Reo softens on top of him. Tenderly stroking the side of his face, eyes lidding with a gentle reminder that he’ll listen. Almost like he’s expecting the worst.
“I think I’m losing myself, Reo.” The midfielder stiffens in his hold. “I love you too much. It makes me want to—“
“W—Wait,” Reo stresses, face flushed and lips quivering. “Is this about that insanity thing? The thing we, ah, talked about..?”
Nagi blinks. “Yes. I wouldn’t blame Reo if he’s changed his mind about it. Even if you said it’s okay, it doesn’t have to be okay. It’s weird.”
A moment passes in silence. The only sound being the static noise from the tv, which they’ve both left behind since a while ago. Last Nagi checked it was playing some outdated soap opera.
Then, without any explanation, Reo leans forward so far that their foreheads knock together. “What’s it telling you, right now.”
“I, uh, Reo..”
Reo plays with the hair on the back of his neck. The skin there stings to the touch, sending shivers down Nagi’s spine. The midfielder hums, pleased at the reaction. “Tell me.”
“It wants me to be honest, but,”
“But?”
Nagi’s heart beats against his ribcage. “Reo’s so— close. It’s..”
“I told you I found it hot, didn’t I?” Reo mutters. “Do I have to prove it to you?”
The soft cushions underneath them start feeling too warm. Hot, almost. So much that Nagi feels the prickling sensation of being burnt start to run over his thighs.
Reo’s hot, too.
In more ways than one.
Nagi curls a hand around the midfielder’s elbow, keeping him stuck in place before he can start escalating his attack. “Reo’s still sore. It’d hurt.”
“Does it matter?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I’m not sore.” As to prove that he isn’t, Reo rests his unrestrained arm on Nagi’s shoulder and arches his back in a beautiful curve. He can barely hold back a laugh as Nagi’s hands immediately fly to his sides. However, the laugh fades into a soft whine when those same hands squeeze.
“You are.” Nagi says, voice a lot sharper than before. “I saw how your legs were trembling at the gallery. You need rest, Reo—“
“There you go again. Can’t you see?”
“See what?”
Reo eyes him lovingly. He sighs, nuzzling his nose into Nagi’s cheek. “How you care about me.” The striker’s lips tremble. But nothing comes out, so Reo continues. “It’s not that you’re insane, Sei. At least not for me. It’s that you love me.”
Maybe.
Most certainly.
“Yeah,” Nagi whispers. Breathless. His lips grace Reo’s skin. “I love you.”
Reo giggles as he leaves a fleeting kiss on his nose. “And— I think your mind is only catching up with that now, my love. That’s why it suddenly makes you crave certain things.”
Nagi blinks. Once, twice. Reo is staring at him with a gentle gaze— carefully stroking his face.
It does make sense. Before they were dating, Nagi always assumed most of their relationship was already settled. That they loved each other. Even if it didn’t involve kissing, or.. showering together. Things didn’t need to be more than that. Even if sometimes, on some nights, Nagi wondered how it’d feel like.
But when they got together that all came true. And maybe Nagi had craved it without knowing for so long that when he got to experience it, his mind kicked to life.
Nagi’s body shudders.
“And I do find it hot.” Reo says, lips quirked. “You can’t stop me from liking my treasure’s A—game.”
The striker’s fingers wobble where they’re still holding Reo’s flesh. “So— it’s still.. okay? Reo’s fine with me being like this?”
“Hot?”
“Reo.”
“Mhm,” the midfielder hums. Eyes lidded as he runs his fingertips along Nagi’s flushed cheeks. “Totally. Now, what will it take for you to take me to bed?”
Reo’s ease washes over Nagi in a slow wave. There’s no vigilance, no apprehension, no doubt behind Reo’s trust. He believes in Nagi even though he’s completely lost in their love. Just because he can.
I’d marry you.
It’s hot.
You love me.
Nagi’s hands run beneath the hem of his hoodie, drawing small shivers in Reo’s warm skin.
”On it, boss.”