[ Hair of the dog, or whatever. Fine. Brainfreezes are only going to make his ebbing headache worse though, so he's taking his time. Slamming back just enough that Reki won't accuse him of being a little bitch. How's that for pacing yourself?? ]
Can we just-- [ Kojiro pauses, and pushes his sunglasses up into his hair, rubs a weary hand over his face. ]
Can we hang out once without getting some combination of drunk, stoned, faded, and cumdumb? Not that I'm complaining, but I feel like neither of us can really spare the brain cells we're slaughtering.
[ that's fine. as long as he's drinking something. reki can put away a lot but there's nothing he can do about being a lightweight; that late teens growth spurt just keeps on not coming. sucks when it makes you paranoid to be the only loose one.
especially since he tends to be a touchy-feely drunk around certain people in particular. people like kojiro, whose lap he's already working a bare foot into under the table. it's a compulsion born of kojiro daring to give him an earful about it, sure, but any other little thing could have triggered this too. ]
... Soooo. I take it beach blowjobs are out, then.
Nah, dude. I'm already drinking. I'm gonna make you forget your own name later.
[ Truly a man of conviction.
But he does have enough sense left to shove Reki's foot away with his knee. There could, ostensibly, be children here at some point. Maybe. Beyond that, he needs a little more of a buzz to be chill with something that public.
Besides, the nachos are here! The plate is half the size of their table, layered and piled high with chips and cheese and brisket and sour cream and pico and jalapeño and god knows what else because it's just. A mess. A greasy, dripping mess. And it smells amazing.
Kojiro orders two more drinks from their server slash bartender before diving unapologetically into the sacrilegious nacho plate. ]
[ reki puts in the appropriate amount of huffing at the rebuke before he digs in with a brave mouthful and fills up his cheeks like a hamster. there's one blessed moment where the only thing out of him is pleased noises and ravenous crunching, and then the next round comes clattering in. apparently reki knows something about their server that kojiro doesn't, because she casts a look at the napkin and flashes him a knowing smile, to which reki blushes uselessly and averts his eyes until she's gone enough for him to knock back a long gulp. ]
What're you so worried about brain cells for anyway?
[ he's making a veritable crime scene of cheese on this next chip, barely catching the drip on his next bite. everything works out in the end though; no harm, no foul. ]
Gonna leave the restaurant business behind and go try to pass the Bar or somethin'?
Sometimes it'd be nice to bring something to the table other than pasta and a nice dick.
[ And who knows why that's suddenly an issue? It never has been before. Kojiro's never been the big brains of any outfit, but he's caring and he's big, and he's generally a believer of playing to one's strengths and not trying to be anything other than what you are.
But every now and then, he might wake up from a lost weekend and think to himself Maybe I should try to be more intellectually stimulating. At least suggesting that they should chill sober sometimes just seems like an important step in that direction.
Today's already a wash, though. So whatever. This garbage pile of nachos is an affront to God, so Kojiro's resolved not to care. ]
Maybe we can start a book club. [ Kojiro's says past a mouthful of brisket and cheese. ]
[ considering kojiro lured him here with promises of twofer margaritas and enough nachos to fuel a 48-hour binge, it feels a little more than out of left field. especially that book club line, which has reki's brows rising skeptically up to his headband. this has pretty much always been their thing, and if it wasn't, he'd be driven to drink anyway purely because of how nice kojiro is to him.
but it's fine. he just needs to get it together and figure out how this is, unquestionably, his fault. ]
Did I say something that gave you the impression I want you to bring more than that?
[ don't answer that yet. reki's feeding him the next chip, airplane style. maybe he just needs more carbs. ]
I'm good with pasta and dick. Love pasta and dick.
[ Kojiro narrows his eyes. He is not a child, thank you. Still eating the chip, though. Reki's fingers get nipped in the process, teeth at his thumb and forefinger, but Kojiro will claim that it can't be helped. ]
No. Not about you, though.
[ This, on the heels of an eyeroll. Reki's self-deprecation is equally adorable and infuriating. Kojiro never minds reassuring him, and he's liberal with his compliments. But it's depressing just to know that this sweet, talented, wonderful person lives with that kind of pervading, all-consuming doubt. Kojiro wishes he could take it away, make Reki see how amazing he is. And even knowing there's no way he ever could--
Maybe that's part of the reason for all of this. If Kojiro can't take those feelings away, maybe just getting Reki out of his own head for a little while is good enough for now. ]
You're great. And I like you a lot. Glad I can keep you entertained.
[ nasty. reki's not about to call him out for it though—he's way too blazed to figure out if kojiro did it on purpose or if he just forgot to pull his fingers away. ]
Aw. Nobody's ever book club liked me before.
[ so. not about him. then it's probably about a specific other person, who makes way more sense as an option, now that reki thinks about it. why would kojiro wanna get smart for some dumb burnout? the far more plausible option is that he's planning to make a move on someone sharp, and there's only one person that can be. ]
... All right. I'm pretty dumb, but I'll help. Teach you how to bullshit your way through some basic vector equations, that'll knock the panties off whoever you're trying to pull.
[ especially if all said person does is listen to a machine solve for v all goddamn night and day. ]
Oh rad, how the hell is that supposed to work? 'Hey baby, wanna come back to my place and watch me do math?'
[ There's a reason he hasn't so much as thought about math since high school, and he's not about to break his record now. Measurement conversions and weight stacks are the farthest reaches of his comfort level with numbers, thanks. ]
I'm not trying to pull anyone though, dude. You keep me busy enough. Seriously.
[ Dubiously stated, right before Kojiro finally finishes his first drink and then pulls the second one over. Like he's fooling anyone here, and maybe that's part of the problem.
They've fallen into this semi-regular thing. And they don't need a name for it, no strings, no mess, no fuss, and that's all fine. Except that Kojiro likes it, but Reki's young, and he's gonna find something he likes more, and Kojiro's gonna have to be okay with that. Let their thing go. Go back to-- Whatever. And maybe that's a lonely feeling; maybe, possibly, it makes him a little moody sometimes.
So he suggested hanging, sober, like that's gonna help them connect in some way they haven't already. Stupid, now that he actually stops to think about it. Like Reki would actually want to.
And he's scowling down at his drink for a few seconds too long, but can blame that on the hit finally slamming into him like a freight train (because, blissfully, it does), and none of that shit matters anymore.
Nothing matters but nachos, which he starts back in on with gusto. ]
So don't try to teach me cos sin tan or some crap. I forgot it once, and I can do it again.
[ reki has to snicker at that line. obviously, he doesn't know the first thing about pulling anyone. no matter how good he gets at closing sales at the shop, he can never quite get it right when it comes to throwing game—not that it really matters. whatever he's putting out seems to pique the interests of very particular sorts of people, and those people make that shit known, so he's been nothing but spoiled when it comes to scoring dick.
hasn't really helped him figure out what to do when he's got one, though. kojiro's the only regular thing he's ever had, which makes navigating it a fucking mystery. like right now, watching him frown into his margarita glass, knowing there's probably something he should be saying or getting, but coming up null. all he can really come up with is that he looks gorgeous like that, wild curls falling into his dark, stormy eyes, those full lips twisted into a moody pout that looks like it'd be more at home in an avant-garde ad campaign than a beachfront bar & grill.
of course, by the time kojiro looks back up, reki's just one big vacant smile again. ]
Maybe try being less of a good time then. You're the only one I can like...
[ "be myself around" sounds lame. strike that shit. ]
... fuck with on this level. Isn't that why you let me keep you busy?
[ super obvious that something's up, the way he's grinning, but he's more tentative after that first rejection. the only thing he's doing is brushing his ankle against kojiro's, slow and light enough to jolt away if it comes again. ]
I let you keep me busy 'cause I like you. And-- This. Whatever we got going on here.
[ Probably too much honesty for that blithe tone, but it's vague enough that Reki can either dismiss it or read into it as he sees fit. And that's another part of the problem. Kojiro surrounds himself with the kind of people who need to be taken care of, and he does a damn good job of taking care of them, and he never asks for anything in return, or even clues anyone in to his own wants and needs. Which, again, is fine. He doesn't do anything with the expectation of being repaid; he does it because it genuinely makes him happy to help his friends.
But when Reki frames it in a context like letting people walk all over him? That is enormously uncomfortable, and he can't really put his finger on why. Shelving that for now. ]
Works out for both of us, anyway.
[ Right. Win-win. But Reki's ankle finally registers as something more than an errant breeze, and when Kojiro smirks, his eyes go a little soft. Dreamy. And he is pointedly not shoving him or drawing away now, because there Reki goes, melting his heart again. ]
[ all right, well that's almost impossible to misinterpret. begs about a million questions, but if reki knows one thing, it is that you do not go too deep into the things that make you feel nice and warm inside. that can go right on the shelf with the rest of the uncomfortable conversations, there for the next time reki feels like a jealous little demon. trust it won't be long.
it is a war to keep that dopey smile on his face from fully forming, turned mission fucking impossible when he catches that bone-melting smirk kojiro's got on. ]
Uhn-uh. Flash that twinkslayer smile somewhere else. I'm trying to be good.
[ he says, as he chews on his lip and starts lifting the leg of kojiro's pants so he can slide bare skin against bare skin. ]
Can't believe you called me a bad influence. I'm full of nothing but great ideas.
[ Kojiro snorts, and -- god help them -- the hint of a blush actually creeps across his cheeks. ]
Trying to be good? That why you're playing footsie over margaritas here?
[ Neither of them are good, at any point. They slum around the island, they drink, they get high and low, they bang, and they don't question it. Other people -- other people in their lives and in their affections, specifically -- deserve something that's good, wholesome. But Kojiro and Reki? They can be bad together, and something about that is pretty worthwhile, in and of itself. No artifice. ]
Still asking for trouble, great ideas or no. Pretty sure it's your abs fixation that got us into all this.
[ Just as a case in point; great idea for Reki to shove his hands under Kojiro's shirt that night, but everything that happened after? Bad influence. Again, it's not a complaint, if Kojiro's sideways grin is anything to go by. It's a simple statement of fact. But he's halfway through his second drink now, and Reki's leg feels too nice for Kojiro not to play fast and loose with his words. ]
So what're your great ideas for the rest of the day, Madre Teresa?
[ reki leans a cheek into his hand, just as rosey as kojiro's—but for a different reason entirely. that second margarita is drained of all but the dregs, which means his skinny ass is already long gone. ]
You're too far away.
[ honestly, for the best. this is why he likes drinking; he can say shit like that instead of letting it bounce around inside him until it makes him miserable. it's a panacea for all kinds of hurt, so no need to worry about how low and undeserving he is when he's practically untouchable—better to focus instead on how good kojiro's skin feels against his own.
and bonus: he knows he's safe here. it's a far cry from what he had before this started, whenever this started, and maybe if reki was a better person, he'd thank him. but he's not. he's the worst. ]
We should get a room down here. I'll pay.
[ reki's ideas can never be that simple. obviously he's still working out the second part. it comes quick enough: ]
[ A single eyebrow lifts, but that doesn't banish Kojiro's grin. ]
Like I'd let you pay for that.
[ So it's gonna be one of those days. Nights. Both, maybe; languishing the pleasure, indulging the bad, but Kojiro can't find the energy to argue with this brand of honesty. Not when Reki's comfortable enough to ask for this. Reki gets what Reki wants, no questions asked. Maybe this time, Kojiro can even fuck some sense into him. ]
But yeah. All right. I know a place.
[ Not yet, though. Kojiro's still nursing his second drink, and they're going to enjoy each other's company for a little while longer before the orgasm barrage commences.
Fuck, it's just-- What is with him today? Why the hell is this bothering him so much? Did Reki really get under his skin that much? Since when has he been so sensitive about this shit?
Tequila blows. It absolutely obliterates his internal filters. But at least he's still managing to feign indifference, keep his cool. Not make Reki all jumpy. Kojiro wants honesty here, not overthinking, not anxiety or self-deprecation. He's genuinely good with whatever answer he gets, he promises himself -- digs his heels in and insists -- that he will be. He just needs to know, even if he's way too detached and smooth about asking. ]
That all you want out of this? [ And before Reki can be a little shit about it, Kojiro clarifies: ] This entire thing, I mean. Not just today.
[ nevermind. it turns out he's not drunk enough. now there's nothing reki wants more than an even stiffer drink, no frills, no bullshit, just the burn. unfortunately, he is still drunk so honesty is all he's really got. especially when kojiro asks that and sounds so casual about it, like it's something reki could do. ]
Oh yeah. That's exactly what I want.
[ later, he'll think of how mean he sounds and cringe—because he can black out all the good stuff, sure, all the laughter and smiles and covert touches in public spaces, but this shit sticks with him forever. right now it doesn't seem so bad because... there's just no way that he's serious, who cares if the sarcasm is thick and abrasive? ]
Put a lock on someone who's in love with mmmmnot me. Can't see how that won't crash and burn.
[ not that it's all just the liquor. how many anecdotes about shots not taken did he have to endure before kojiro gave up on trying to steer him toward his best friend? thinly-veiled ones, which could have only ever been about one person, the same person reki sees taking kojiro for everything he's got and thanking him by cutting him down in front of everyone.
which... now it hits him. the fucking audacity. there has to be another reason why and now he thinks he gets it. ]
[ Kojiro tries, but doesn't quite resist the urge to roll his eyes. Nothing defensive, just-- straightforward. Maybe a little wounded, but he's quick to school his features again. This is-- just so stupid, and on so many levels, but he leans across the table, close enough to lend some air of sincerity to what he says next. And even if Reki won't meet his eyes, Kojiro's staring straight through him. ]
Look. Cards on the table, dude. I told you that ship sailed, long time ago. There's nothing for me there. Sometimes you just gotta-- quit chasing echoes and look at what's in front of you.
[ Which, from where they're both sitting? ]
So you be as mean as you want about it. I'm used to a lot meaner than you; you're not getting rid of me like that. And if you wanna keep doing what we're doing, that's fine too. You know I'll take you for as many rides as you want 'til you find something better, but--
[ But mean still hurts, even when you're used to it, even when thick skin blunts the barbs. And that's not really enough to warrant a confession either, no matter how slick Kojiro is about it, and no matter how many times he's told Reki the carbon-copy exact same thing, so despite the fact that he knows it doesn't count for shit, he pushes on: ]
I like you a lot. I like this a lot. I wanna try something more. With you.
[ reki refuses to meet his eyes, at least at first. that no is so sobering, frighteningly so. it's the difference between having a handle on this situation, having control and yet remaining detached enough to not have anything to lose. take all that away and he's just terrified.
which, he has every reason to be. kojiro's asking him something in earnest and he's already making the same mistakes he made with langa. and sure, both of them are very good at concealing hurt, but reki feels it like something dying deep inside of him—he always does, every time.
there isn't anything he can do to take that hurt away; it'll always be there for him to see, an ugly scar on their relationship that'll haunt him forever. if kojiro wants to hide it away, that's fine—reki is wearing it for him now, his face twisted and tortured as he reaches out to firmly squeeze kojiro's arm. ]
It doesn't get any better than you, man.
[ there's a certain voice he only ever uses with kojiro, ever since that first time watching the sun set and talking out his first little episode. but using it now, after he's been mean, puts him in way too vulnerable a place. he can feel another break coming, and fast, so his request is an urgent one: ]
Reki's face is all a mess of hurt and confusion, plain as day. Kojiro might be dumb as a box of rocks, but he's more intuitive than anyone gives him credit for. He knows when he fucked up. Moreover, he knows he must have ruined the -- by all accounts -- lovely day Reki had whittled out for them, and that? That all feels wretched. Despite Reki's reassurance, or maybe just because he says it like that, Kojiro's feeling like the biggest asshole that ever did exist. ]
Yeah. Gimme a sec. You can go wait by the bike if you want.
[ Kojiro pounds the rest of his drink on his way back to the bar counter. It doesn't take long to settle up, and he's trying really hard not to think about anything else while his back is turned to Reki. None of that was an answer. Not really. Not to someone who patently refuses to read into anything. And he has to be okay with that, despite zero clarity from any frame of reference.
That was his promise and his problem before he ever opened his stupid mouth about this. He'll be okay with it, no matter what Reki wants to do. He's gotta stand by that, or risk reinforcing all the awful shit Reki believes about his own worth.
But they're still getting that room. Even if it's just to give Reki some space to process and breathe, even if he just wants to sprawl out on a too-large bed and be miserable for the rest of the day. Kojiro's got his shirt on again when he rejoins Reki by the bike, and they ride -- carefully -- another few minutes down the same stretch of beachfront road before Kojiro steers them into the garage of a love hotel.
He tugs Reki along to the priciest room, in case he had any illusions that Kojiro's willing to cut corners with any of this. But the second they're inside, Kojiro's crowding Reki back against the closed door. His knees hit the ground as his arms wind around Reki's waist, forehead pressed to hide his face against Reki's chest. Silent prostration, wordless plea for forgiveness, because he isn't gonna open his mouth again and risk fucking this up even more. ]
[ it feels just as shitty to cut their lunch short, but honestly, he doesn't trust himself not to make a scene. just guilt all around, ping-ponging back and forth between them, and yeah, they really need to get somewhere and talk. reki makes a motion for his wallet, but kojiro's already disappeared himself by then, so he heads over to the bike to cool down his head with a few more puffs of that pen and some fresh air.
it's easier when they're riding to the hotel, when reki can wrap his arms around kojiro and sink against his back. no matter what transpired, this is still his favorite thing in the world, even though he's burying his face instead of gawking at the blurring streets, his arms squeezing in a way that's probably telling. probably has always been telling.
he needs this and he's gotten way too attached to this and he's starting to hate anyone who he perceives as powerful enough to come between this and himself. but that was his problem to drown in cheap tequila and asahi super dry. he was never prepared for it to be something he'd have to share with anyone.
by the time they hit the hotel, those vape hits have almost mellowed him out enough to make him amenable to the idea of throwing a fit over the price of the room. this was his idea, he should pay, but it feels wrong to break the silence with more admonishments. the root of that problem isn't the money or who's paying—it's that he wants kojiro to feel taken care of for once, same as he makes everyone else feel. that's a thing they can talk about, he thinks—until they get inside and kojiro's on his knees, still almost just as tall as reki like this, infuriatingly.
with a sigh, reki leans back against the door and starts stroking through kojiro's hair, slow and soothing, same way he puts the girls to sleep. he lets the quiet reign for a moment while his fingers work, and then: ]
You really want this to be your life, man? Nothing but teenage mood swings and my dumb fucking mouth?
[ It comes out muffled against Reki's jacket, and Kojiro tilts his head up to meet Reki's gaze on the tail end of that statement. There are some things you have to look someone in the eye to tell them, but Reki's never been totally comfortable with the whole feelings thing. So again, whatever he can get. And maybe Kojiro doesn't deserve begging for thread, but he manages to fall for this kind of thing time and time again, and it's started to feel like home. Different, with Reki; less familiar, more fun. That's worth it. Having Reki in his arms like his, fingers tangling through Kojiro's hair, it's all-- ]
You're worth fighting for. So I will, until you don't want me to anymore.
[ And that's it. They don't have to talk about it anymore. Not if Reki doesn't want to. But Kojiro's not gonna deny Reki his voice in this either. ]
You don't have to decide now. Or at all, if you don't want to. Just-- Maybe I just wanted you to know.
[ Maybe he just wanted to avoid repeating the same mistakes again. That seems like as good a reason as any. ]
[ is the first thing reki makes sure that he says. all right, yeah, he's irrefutably guilty when it comes to taking all those compliments kojiro lobs his way and brushing them aside in favor of more insidious trains of thought—but he listens to the other stuff. the stuff kojiro says that's about the hurt he holds inside of him. which is the problem.
he sighs, looking down at kojiro's handsome face, taking time to trace the strong line of his jaw, his thumb passing over his cheek before his other finger comes around to pinch it. ]
It's too late, anyway. I don't wanna lie and say I don't want you, but I didn't wanna hurt you either, and now there's nothing we can do.
[ if anything, reki should be the one on his knees. but if the world made sense, none of these kind and brilliant, talented and deserving people would bother with him at all. they'd find someone uncomplicated and easy and live a life of comfort and stability. but no, they just keep coming for reki like it's not going to end in disaster.
the least he can do is slide down the door he's leaning against, looping his thin arms over kojiro's broad shoulders. if it was anyone else, maybe, he'd run like he always does, but holding on to kojiro like this is the one place he feels safe, no matter what happened today. ]
[ Maybe that's an oversimplification, because if this feels scary to Kojiro, he can't even imagine how Reki must feel. It doesn't have to be apocalyptic, but Reki's gonna overthink it until it seems that way, and there's not much Kojiro can do about that. Not outside of holding him, reassuring him; thankfully, those are two things Kojiro is fairly good at.
Reki's arms are around him already, so it doesn't take much for Kojiro to get an arm under his thighs and lift him along while he stands. He hadn't taken note of the room's theme when he picked it, but it's-- Not what he probably would have chosen, actually. It's all jewel-toned velvets and silks on black-laquered furniture, sheer drapery around the bed, tassels on the pillows and embroidery on everything. The lights are all red. It feels too tawdry for something like this, but not terrible; just not their style.
The bed is comfortable, at least. Not that Reki's getting a chance to test it out. Kojiro hauls him over to it, and under normal circumstances, Reki would get tossed and attacked immediately. Instead, Kojiro falls back onto it, and lets Reki rest against his chest. It's better than the floor, in any case, and it frees Kojiro's hands up to sink through Reki's hair and slide up his back. ]
Not gonna hold you to anything you wanted earlier. But you're the boss today. You wanna lay here and talk more, that's fine. You want me to spend hours making you forget I opened my stupid mouth, that's fine too. Whatever you want.
[ being lifted still brings with it that jolt of cold fear, anticipation for the crash and the agony that doesn't come. the only sign of it is the tightening of his arms, though, and that's innocuous enough that it doesn't warrant discussion. another thing he'll get over with time, if kojiro has the patience to ever make it there.
slowly, he breathes him in until they're laying on the bed, immersing himself in his heady warmth and strong arms. really, kojiro seals his own fate by riding a hand up his spine, compelling reki's whole body to rise against his touch, greedy and eager as ever. talk is cheap and everyone breaks their promises; what never lies is flesh, and reki roams his lips over it until he finds a collarbone to worry with the wriggling point of his tongue. ]
What d'you think my call's gonna be?
[ the real tragedy is that they didn't get more liquor for him to truly surrender himself to this. but he does have a bottle of rush in his pocket, which he pauses long enough to uncap and take a whiff of before holding it to kojiro's nose. his other hand keeps busy, undoing the buttons of kojiro's shirt until he can slide his palm over his chest unhindered. his hips rock, turned urgent by both the chemicals and the confusion clouding his senses. ]
[ Need you, in that hushed, breathy tone. That's it. That's all Kojiro needs to hear, and his higher function and reasoning just cease.
It's probably better this way. Being in his own head is just making things progressively worse at this point. Reki offers the bottle, and one whiff has Kojiro's head swimming and his nerves alight. Those wandering hands and the insistent press of Reki's hips are like a million tiny cuts, sharp and perfect and to the quick, wearing him down so quickly Reki can practically hear the last thread of Kojiro's patience snap.
His arm is still tight around Reki's waist when Kojiro sits up, sudden enough that his arm stays tight to steady Reki, in case his inebriation had any ideas about letting him tip back farther. Kojiro's hands are so large, but he uses them too well, reins tight even now, perfectly controlled when one of them grasps Reki's jaw -- firm without bruising -- and the kiss he pulls Reki into falls on the heels of a low growl. ]
You wear too much.
[ That's always the complaint. Reki can feel Kojiro growing hard against the urgent press of their hips, and even still, he's gotta remind Reki of how many damn layers are between them. That's the next task; bullying Reki out of his clothes. Jacket first, then all the layers underneath it come at once over Reki's head, and if some seams pop in the process, Kojiro doesn't give a damn. Problem for another time. This problem is suddenly solved, and Kojiro's momentarily content with the newly-exposed skin, mouth falling to drag careful teeth down one side of Reki's throat. He braces Reki again, just before a hand presses between them to palm Reki's cock through his pants. ]
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beefyspaghetti) wrote2021-05-08 06:09 pm
no subject
[ Hair of the dog, or whatever. Fine. Brainfreezes are only going to make his ebbing headache worse though, so he's taking his time. Slamming back just enough that Reki won't accuse him of being a little bitch. How's that for pacing yourself?? ]
Can we just-- [ Kojiro pauses, and pushes his sunglasses up into his hair, rubs a weary hand over his face. ]
Can we hang out once without getting some combination of drunk, stoned, faded, and cumdumb? Not that I'm complaining, but I feel like neither of us can really spare the brain cells we're slaughtering.
no subject
[ that's fine. as long as he's drinking something. reki can put away a lot but there's nothing he can do about being a lightweight; that late teens growth spurt just keeps on not coming. sucks when it makes you paranoid to be the only loose one.
especially since he tends to be a touchy-feely drunk around certain people in particular. people like kojiro, whose lap he's already working a bare foot into under the table. it's a compulsion born of kojiro daring to give him an earful about it, sure, but any other little thing could have triggered this too. ]
... Soooo. I take it beach blowjobs are out, then.
no subject
[ Truly a man of conviction.
But he does have enough sense left to shove Reki's foot away with his knee. There could, ostensibly, be children here at some point. Maybe. Beyond that, he needs a little more of a buzz to be chill with something that public.
Besides, the nachos are here! The plate is half the size of their table, layered and piled high with chips and cheese and brisket and sour cream and pico and jalapeño and god knows what else because it's just. A mess. A greasy, dripping mess. And it smells amazing.
Kojiro orders two more drinks from their server slash bartender before diving unapologetically into the sacrilegious nacho plate. ]
no subject
What're you so worried about brain cells for anyway?
[ he's making a veritable crime scene of cheese on this next chip, barely catching the drip on his next bite. everything works out in the end though; no harm, no foul. ]
Gonna leave the restaurant business behind and go try to pass the Bar or somethin'?
no subject
[ And who knows why that's suddenly an issue? It never has been before. Kojiro's never been the big brains of any outfit, but he's caring and he's big, and he's generally a believer of playing to one's strengths and not trying to be anything other than what you are.
But every now and then, he might wake up from a lost weekend and think to himself Maybe I should try to be more intellectually stimulating. At least suggesting that they should chill sober sometimes just seems like an important step in that direction.
Today's already a wash, though. So whatever. This garbage pile of nachos is an affront to God, so Kojiro's resolved not to care. ]
Maybe we can start a book club. [ Kojiro's says past a mouthful of brisket and cheese. ]
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but it's fine. he just needs to get it together and figure out how this is, unquestionably, his fault. ]
Did I say something that gave you the impression I want you to bring more than that?
[ don't answer that yet. reki's feeding him the next chip, airplane style. maybe he just needs more carbs. ]
I'm good with pasta and dick. Love pasta and dick.
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No. Not about you, though.
[ This, on the heels of an eyeroll. Reki's self-deprecation is equally adorable and infuriating. Kojiro never minds reassuring him, and he's liberal with his compliments. But it's depressing just to know that this sweet, talented, wonderful person lives with that kind of pervading, all-consuming doubt. Kojiro wishes he could take it away, make Reki see how amazing he is. And even knowing there's no way he ever could--
Maybe that's part of the reason for all of this. If Kojiro can't take those feelings away, maybe just getting Reki out of his own head for a little while is good enough for now. ]
You're great. And I like you a lot. Glad I can keep you entertained.
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Aw. Nobody's ever book club liked me before.
[ so. not about him. then it's probably about a specific other person, who makes way more sense as an option, now that reki thinks about it. why would kojiro wanna get smart for some dumb burnout? the far more plausible option is that he's planning to make a move on someone sharp, and there's only one person that can be. ]
... All right. I'm pretty dumb, but I'll help. Teach you how to bullshit your way through some basic vector equations, that'll knock the panties off whoever you're trying to pull.
[ especially if all said person does is listen to a machine solve for v all goddamn night and day. ]
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[ There's a reason he hasn't so much as thought about math since high school, and he's not about to break his record now. Measurement conversions and weight stacks are the farthest reaches of his comfort level with numbers, thanks. ]
I'm not trying to pull anyone though, dude. You keep me busy enough. Seriously.
[ Dubiously stated, right before Kojiro finally finishes his first drink and then pulls the second one over. Like he's fooling anyone here, and maybe that's part of the problem.
They've fallen into this semi-regular thing. And they don't need a name for it, no strings, no mess, no fuss, and that's all fine. Except that Kojiro likes it, but Reki's young, and he's gonna find something he likes more, and Kojiro's gonna have to be okay with that. Let their thing go. Go back to-- Whatever. And maybe that's a lonely feeling; maybe, possibly, it makes him a little moody sometimes.
So he suggested hanging, sober, like that's gonna help them connect in some way they haven't already. Stupid, now that he actually stops to think about it. Like Reki would actually want to.
And he's scowling down at his drink for a few seconds too long, but can blame that on the hit finally slamming into him like a freight train (because, blissfully, it does), and none of that shit matters anymore.
Nothing matters but nachos, which he starts back in on with gusto. ]
So don't try to teach me cos sin tan or some crap. I forgot it once, and I can do it again.
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hasn't really helped him figure out what to do when he's got one, though. kojiro's the only regular thing he's ever had, which makes navigating it a fucking mystery. like right now, watching him frown into his margarita glass, knowing there's probably something he should be saying or getting, but coming up null. all he can really come up with is that he looks gorgeous like that, wild curls falling into his dark, stormy eyes, those full lips twisted into a moody pout that looks like it'd be more at home in an avant-garde ad campaign than a beachfront bar & grill.
of course, by the time kojiro looks back up, reki's just one big vacant smile again. ]
Maybe try being less of a good time then. You're the only one I can like...
[ "be myself around" sounds lame. strike that shit. ]
... fuck with on this level. Isn't that why you let me keep you busy?
[ super obvious that something's up, the way he's grinning, but he's more tentative after that first rejection. the only thing he's doing is brushing his ankle against kojiro's, slow and light enough to jolt away if it comes again. ]
I can fucking hang or whatever.
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[ Probably too much honesty for that blithe tone, but it's vague enough that Reki can either dismiss it or read into it as he sees fit. And that's another part of the problem. Kojiro surrounds himself with the kind of people who need to be taken care of, and he does a damn good job of taking care of them, and he never asks for anything in return, or even clues anyone in to his own wants and needs. Which, again, is fine. He doesn't do anything with the expectation of being repaid; he does it because it genuinely makes him happy to help his friends.
But when Reki frames it in a context like letting people walk all over him? That is enormously uncomfortable, and he can't really put his finger on why. Shelving that for now. ]
Works out for both of us, anyway.
[ Right. Win-win. But Reki's ankle finally registers as something more than an errant breeze, and when Kojiro smirks, his eyes go a little soft. Dreamy. And he is pointedly not shoving him or drawing away now, because there Reki goes, melting his heart again. ]
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it is a war to keep that dopey smile on his face from fully forming, turned mission fucking impossible when he catches that bone-melting smirk kojiro's got on. ]
Uhn-uh. Flash that twinkslayer smile somewhere else. I'm trying to be good.
[ he says, as he chews on his lip and starts lifting the leg of kojiro's pants so he can slide bare skin against bare skin. ]
Can't believe you called me a bad influence. I'm full of nothing but great ideas.
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Trying to be good? That why you're playing footsie over margaritas here?
[ Neither of them are good, at any point. They slum around the island, they drink, they get high and low, they bang, and they don't question it. Other people -- other people in their lives and in their affections, specifically -- deserve something that's good, wholesome. But Kojiro and Reki? They can be bad together, and something about that is pretty worthwhile, in and of itself. No artifice. ]
Still asking for trouble, great ideas or no. Pretty sure it's your abs fixation that got us into all this.
[ Just as a case in point; great idea for Reki to shove his hands under Kojiro's shirt that night, but everything that happened after? Bad influence. Again, it's not a complaint, if Kojiro's sideways grin is anything to go by. It's a simple statement of fact. But he's halfway through his second drink now, and Reki's leg feels too nice for Kojiro not to play fast and loose with his words. ]
So what're your great ideas for the rest of the day, Madre Teresa?
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You're too far away.
[ honestly, for the best. this is why he likes drinking; he can say shit like that instead of letting it bounce around inside him until it makes him miserable. it's a panacea for all kinds of hurt, so no need to worry about how low and undeserving he is when he's practically untouchable—better to focus instead on how good kojiro's skin feels against his own.
and bonus: he knows he's safe here. it's a far cry from what he had before this started, whenever this started, and maybe if reki was a better person, he'd thank him. but he's not. he's the worst. ]
We should get a room down here. I'll pay.
[ reki's ideas can never be that simple. obviously he's still working out the second part. it comes quick enough: ]
And fingerpaints.
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Like I'd let you pay for that.
[ So it's gonna be one of those days. Nights. Both, maybe; languishing the pleasure, indulging the bad, but Kojiro can't find the energy to argue with this brand of honesty. Not when Reki's comfortable enough to ask for this. Reki gets what Reki wants, no questions asked. Maybe this time, Kojiro can even fuck some sense into him. ]
But yeah. All right. I know a place.
[ Not yet, though. Kojiro's still nursing his second drink, and they're going to enjoy each other's company for a little while longer before the orgasm barrage commences.
Fuck, it's just-- What is with him today? Why the hell is this bothering him so much? Did Reki really get under his skin that much? Since when has he been so sensitive about this shit?
Tequila blows. It absolutely obliterates his internal filters. But at least he's still managing to feign indifference, keep his cool. Not make Reki all jumpy. Kojiro wants honesty here, not overthinking, not anxiety or self-deprecation. He's genuinely good with whatever answer he gets, he promises himself -- digs his heels in and insists -- that he will be. He just needs to know, even if he's way too detached and smooth about asking. ]
That all you want out of this? [ And before Reki can be a little shit about it, Kojiro clarifies: ] This entire thing, I mean. Not just today.
Could put it on lock, if you wanted.
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Oh yeah. That's exactly what I want.
[ later, he'll think of how mean he sounds and cringe—because he can black out all the good stuff, sure, all the laughter and smiles and covert touches in public spaces, but this shit sticks with him forever. right now it doesn't seem so bad because... there's just no way that he's serious, who cares if the sarcasm is thick and abrasive? ]
Put a lock on someone who's in love with mmmmnot me. Can't see how that won't crash and burn.
[ not that it's all just the liquor. how many anecdotes about shots not taken did he have to endure before kojiro gave up on trying to steer him toward his best friend? thinly-veiled ones, which could have only ever been about one person, the same person reki sees taking kojiro for everything he's got and thanking him by cutting him down in front of everyone.
which... now it hits him. the fucking audacity. there has to be another reason why and now he thinks he gets it. ]
... Ah. You tryin' to make someone jealous?
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[ Kojiro tries, but doesn't quite resist the urge to roll his eyes. Nothing defensive, just-- straightforward. Maybe a little wounded, but he's quick to school his features again. This is-- just so stupid, and on so many levels, but he leans across the table, close enough to lend some air of sincerity to what he says next. And even if Reki won't meet his eyes, Kojiro's staring straight through him. ]
Look. Cards on the table, dude. I told you that ship sailed, long time ago. There's nothing for me there. Sometimes you just gotta-- quit chasing echoes and look at what's in front of you.
[ Which, from where they're both sitting? ]
So you be as mean as you want about it. I'm used to a lot meaner than you; you're not getting rid of me like that. And if you wanna keep doing what we're doing, that's fine too. You know I'll take you for as many rides as you want 'til you find something better, but--
[ But mean still hurts, even when you're used to it, even when thick skin blunts the barbs. And that's not really enough to warrant a confession either, no matter how slick Kojiro is about it, and no matter how many times he's told Reki the carbon-copy exact same thing, so despite the fact that he knows it doesn't count for shit, he pushes on: ]
I like you a lot. I like this a lot. I wanna try something more. With you.
So, your play. Whatever you want.
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which, he has every reason to be. kojiro's asking him something in earnest and he's already making the same mistakes he made with langa. and sure, both of them are very good at concealing hurt, but reki feels it like something dying deep inside of him—he always does, every time.
there isn't anything he can do to take that hurt away; it'll always be there for him to see, an ugly scar on their relationship that'll haunt him forever. if kojiro wants to hide it away, that's fine—reki is wearing it for him now, his face twisted and tortured as he reaches out to firmly squeeze kojiro's arm. ]
It doesn't get any better than you, man.
[ there's a certain voice he only ever uses with kojiro, ever since that first time watching the sun set and talking out his first little episode. but using it now, after he's been mean, puts him in way too vulnerable a place. he can feel another break coming, and fast, so his request is an urgent one: ]
Can we get outta here?
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Reki's face is all a mess of hurt and confusion, plain as day. Kojiro might be dumb as a box of rocks, but he's more intuitive than anyone gives him credit for. He knows when he fucked up. Moreover, he knows he must have ruined the -- by all accounts -- lovely day Reki had whittled out for them, and that? That all feels wretched. Despite Reki's reassurance, or maybe just because he says it like that, Kojiro's feeling like the biggest asshole that ever did exist. ]
Yeah. Gimme a sec. You can go wait by the bike if you want.
[ Kojiro pounds the rest of his drink on his way back to the bar counter. It doesn't take long to settle up, and he's trying really hard not to think about anything else while his back is turned to Reki. None of that was an answer. Not really. Not to someone who patently refuses to read into anything. And he has to be okay with that, despite zero clarity from any frame of reference.
That was his promise and his problem before he ever opened his stupid mouth about this. He'll be okay with it, no matter what Reki wants to do. He's gotta stand by that, or risk reinforcing all the awful shit Reki believes about his own worth.
But they're still getting that room. Even if it's just to give Reki some space to process and breathe, even if he just wants to sprawl out on a too-large bed and be miserable for the rest of the day. Kojiro's got his shirt on again when he rejoins Reki by the bike, and they ride -- carefully -- another few minutes down the same stretch of beachfront road before Kojiro steers them into the garage of a love hotel.
He tugs Reki along to the priciest room, in case he had any illusions that Kojiro's willing to cut corners with any of this. But the second they're inside, Kojiro's crowding Reki back against the closed door. His knees hit the ground as his arms wind around Reki's waist, forehead pressed to hide his face against Reki's chest. Silent prostration, wordless plea for forgiveness, because he isn't gonna open his mouth again and risk fucking this up even more. ]
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it's easier when they're riding to the hotel, when reki can wrap his arms around kojiro and sink against his back. no matter what transpired, this is still his favorite thing in the world, even though he's burying his face instead of gawking at the blurring streets, his arms squeezing in a way that's probably telling. probably has always been telling.
he needs this and he's gotten way too attached to this and he's starting to hate anyone who he perceives as powerful enough to come between this and himself. but that was his problem to drown in cheap tequila and asahi super dry. he was never prepared for it to be something he'd have to share with anyone.
by the time they hit the hotel, those vape hits have almost mellowed him out enough to make him amenable to the idea of throwing a fit over the price of the room. this was his idea, he should pay, but it feels wrong to break the silence with more admonishments. the root of that problem isn't the money or who's paying—it's that he wants kojiro to feel taken care of for once, same as he makes everyone else feel. that's a thing they can talk about, he thinks—until they get inside and kojiro's on his knees, still almost just as tall as reki like this, infuriatingly.
with a sigh, reki leans back against the door and starts stroking through kojiro's hair, slow and soothing, same way he puts the girls to sleep. he lets the quiet reign for a moment while his fingers work, and then: ]
You really want this to be your life, man? Nothing but teenage mood swings and my dumb fucking mouth?
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[ It comes out muffled against Reki's jacket, and Kojiro tilts his head up to meet Reki's gaze on the tail end of that statement. There are some things you have to look someone in the eye to tell them, but Reki's never been totally comfortable with the whole feelings thing. So again, whatever he can get. And maybe Kojiro doesn't deserve begging for thread, but he manages to fall for this kind of thing time and time again, and it's started to feel like home. Different, with Reki; less familiar, more fun. That's worth it. Having Reki in his arms like his, fingers tangling through Kojiro's hair, it's all-- ]
You're worth fighting for. So I will, until you don't want me to anymore.
[ And that's it. They don't have to talk about it anymore. Not if Reki doesn't want to. But Kojiro's not gonna deny Reki his voice in this either. ]
You don't have to decide now. Or at all, if you don't want to. Just-- Maybe I just wanted you to know.
[ Maybe he just wanted to avoid repeating the same mistakes again. That seems like as good a reason as any. ]
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[ is the first thing reki makes sure that he says. all right, yeah, he's irrefutably guilty when it comes to taking all those compliments kojiro lobs his way and brushing them aside in favor of more insidious trains of thought—but he listens to the other stuff. the stuff kojiro says that's about the hurt he holds inside of him. which is the problem.
he sighs, looking down at kojiro's handsome face, taking time to trace the strong line of his jaw, his thumb passing over his cheek before his other finger comes around to pinch it. ]
It's too late, anyway. I don't wanna lie and say I don't want you, but I didn't wanna hurt you either, and now there's nothing we can do.
[ if anything, reki should be the one on his knees. but if the world made sense, none of these kind and brilliant, talented and deserving people would bother with him at all. they'd find someone uncomplicated and easy and live a life of comfort and stability. but no, they just keep coming for reki like it's not going to end in disaster.
the least he can do is slide down the door he's leaning against, looping his thin arms over kojiro's broad shoulders. if it was anyone else, maybe, he'd run like he always does, but holding on to kojiro like this is the one place he feels safe, no matter what happened today. ]
I'm gonna fuck this up so bad.
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[ Maybe that's an oversimplification, because if this feels scary to Kojiro, he can't even imagine how Reki must feel. It doesn't have to be apocalyptic, but Reki's gonna overthink it until it seems that way, and there's not much Kojiro can do about that. Not outside of holding him, reassuring him; thankfully, those are two things Kojiro is fairly good at.
Reki's arms are around him already, so it doesn't take much for Kojiro to get an arm under his thighs and lift him along while he stands. He hadn't taken note of the room's theme when he picked it, but it's-- Not what he probably would have chosen, actually. It's all jewel-toned velvets and silks on black-laquered furniture, sheer drapery around the bed, tassels on the pillows and embroidery on everything. The lights are all red. It feels too tawdry for something like this, but not terrible; just not their style.
The bed is comfortable, at least. Not that Reki's getting a chance to test it out. Kojiro hauls him over to it, and under normal circumstances, Reki would get tossed and attacked immediately. Instead, Kojiro falls back onto it, and lets Reki rest against his chest. It's better than the floor, in any case, and it frees Kojiro's hands up to sink through Reki's hair and slide up his back. ]
Not gonna hold you to anything you wanted earlier. But you're the boss today. You wanna lay here and talk more, that's fine. You want me to spend hours making you forget I opened my stupid mouth, that's fine too. Whatever you want.
Your call.
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slowly, he breathes him in until they're laying on the bed, immersing himself in his heady warmth and strong arms. really, kojiro seals his own fate by riding a hand up his spine, compelling reki's whole body to rise against his touch, greedy and eager as ever. talk is cheap and everyone breaks their promises; what never lies is flesh, and reki roams his lips over it until he finds a collarbone to worry with the wriggling point of his tongue. ]
What d'you think my call's gonna be?
[ the real tragedy is that they didn't get more liquor for him to truly surrender himself to this. but he does have a bottle of rush in his pocket, which he pauses long enough to uncap and take a whiff of before holding it to kojiro's nose. his other hand keeps busy, undoing the buttons of kojiro's shirt until he can slide his palm over his chest unhindered. his hips rock, turned urgent by both the chemicals and the confusion clouding his senses. ]
Need you.
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It's probably better this way. Being in his own head is just making things progressively worse at this point. Reki offers the bottle, and one whiff has Kojiro's head swimming and his nerves alight. Those wandering hands and the insistent press of Reki's hips are like a million tiny cuts, sharp and perfect and to the quick, wearing him down so quickly Reki can practically hear the last thread of Kojiro's patience snap.
His arm is still tight around Reki's waist when Kojiro sits up, sudden enough that his arm stays tight to steady Reki, in case his inebriation had any ideas about letting him tip back farther. Kojiro's hands are so large, but he uses them too well, reins tight even now, perfectly controlled when one of them grasps Reki's jaw -- firm without bruising -- and the kiss he pulls Reki into falls on the heels of a low growl. ]
You wear too much.
[ That's always the complaint. Reki can feel Kojiro growing hard against the urgent press of their hips, and even still, he's gotta remind Reki of how many damn layers are between them. That's the next task; bullying Reki out of his clothes. Jacket first, then all the layers underneath it come at once over Reki's head, and if some seams pop in the process, Kojiro doesn't give a damn. Problem for another time. This problem is suddenly solved, and Kojiro's momentarily content with the newly-exposed skin, mouth falling to drag careful teeth down one side of Reki's throat. He braces Reki again, just before a hand presses between them to palm Reki's cock through his pants. ]
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