potosi | tbh ths is just the bad brain smich box

( the funny thing is just how little samatoki realizes he's following the tsundere route to a t: playing hard to get even though he wants otherwise. it's a battle to keep his composure in check at the tiny bit of contact so he moves away from ichiro's reach, shifting over to a different corner of the couch. )

You probably don't even have money, so that's out. Can you get creative?

( after all... ichiro isn't the only one thirsty here. )

Duh. [ can he get creative. Please. he’s Ichiro Yamada, creativity is practically his middle name.

when samatoki moves away from him, it doesn’t deter ichiro too much: he ends up grinning just a little wider, delighted as he swings back around the couch towards him instead. there’s a shitty comment on the tip of his tongue about how this is rapidly turning into a hentai scenario, but he’s not about to ruin his chances with it, either.

the new positioning has him standing in front of samatoki, hands on his hips, confident and comfortable and also really, really ready to jump his bones in about five seconds, but he can hide it behind banter. ] Depends, anyway. How creative are you gonna be with the tip?

( samatoki still has the audacity to look defiant when ichiro stands in front of him. the shitty comment doesn't need to be made since he's also seen enough porn to know where this is headed. all they need is for either one of them to just make the first move — )

Isn't that for you to find out?

( his eyes has that certain look, especially when he leans back against the couch, legs slightly parting open. it's all up to ichiro to see what kind of tip he'll get but samatoki has a feeling he already knows. )

[ well

ichiro's never not been one to make the first move. bold doesn't even begin to cover him, and that grin on his face barely fades when he leans forward to press his hand into the couch, weight easily sinking towards samatoki, like there's gravitational pull.

(because really, there is.) ] Guess I better earn it, right?

[ piercings more or less forgotten (?), maybe, ichiro's just fine to duck in first and press a kiss to his mouth. it's not a little peck; it holds, just for the contact, full of intent. ]

You better.

( when ichiro moves to bridge what little gap they have between them, samatoki licks his lips without even thinking about it. he doesn't realize he's holding his breath either, right up until he feels ichiro's lips on his. there are no sparks, no butterflies. none of that shit they make you watch in the movies — but he's reacting anyway, prying his mouth open to allow things to go even further.

he meets ichiro's intent with his own, full of want and need, one hand reaching for ichiro's arm to tug him even closer than he already is. )

[ ichiro's certainly reacting, too: he practically sinks into the kiss, his other hand coming up to curl in the front of samatoki's shirt, fingers spreading than squeezing tight. suddenly "close" isn't quite close enough, and ichiro pushes forward a little to press his knee into the couch. it's almost enough to put him in samatoki's lap, which sounds like heaven right now.

he does everything with intensity, especially things he likes, and samatoki falls directly into that category. the moment his mouth opens a little, ichiro's returning the favor, tongue sliding between his lips, making a soft, muffled, pleased noise against his mouth. ]

( with ichiro's hand on his chest like that, samatoki wonders if his heart is beating fast enough to be felt. and "close" is never really close enough, so he is all too eager to maneuver ichiro's position so he is on his lap. it's a little awkward at first, but he adjusts around until it finally feels right — and god, why didn't they do this sooner.

he can't get enough of kissing ichiro, savouring his taste, the way his tongue feels against his. he even takes the opportunity to nip and bite a little, his hands finally wandering to explore the boy on his lap. )

[ for someone who is always cold, samatoki's body is warm underneath ichiro's: he slides across his lap naturally the second samatoki pulls him closer, and it's like things are just clicking into place. he's had a thing for samatoki pretty much since the day he first saw him (at least visually; everything else happened later, seeing his relationship with his sister, how useless he was at cooking, that all led to feelings), and there's a sense of finally when his hands fall onto his body like that.

it's natural to arch up into it; he's a little wiggly, dropping his hand away from the couch and reaching up to thread them in samatoki's hair instead, tugging his head towards an angle he likes and kissing him right back with just as much gusto. maybe they could just do this forever. ichiro has a way better idea of delivery tips now. ]

( if you asked him, samatoki wouldn't be able to tell you where it all started for him.

after all, they were just a delivery boy and a customer back then, but after the first few times of opening the door with ichiro holding up his food, it becomes a routine — one he found himself looking forward to whenever he pulls the app up. things become easier, and better, once they exchanged numbers. there were days samatoki caught himself looking at his phone too often, waiting for a reply. it's dumb, he felt (and still feels) dumb but he can't deny the warmth that spreads throughout him whenever ichiro messages him back.

when he feels fingers in his hair, it's enough to pull him away from his thoughts. he focuses on the here and now, the present realityvthat involves ichiro kissing him with so much ferocity that he almost struggles to keep up. he doesn't mind if this is all they end up doing tonight. it's probably the best tip he has ever given and ichiro is clearly enjoying it so he has no plans on stopping.)

[ unfortunately, oxygen does tend to require people breaking apart, but ichiro will do his damndest to out last it. he doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t want to break whatever tension between them that let this happen, doesn’t want to snap back to reality. not when samatoki’s mouth is warm and wet and the pressure of his tongue is making his toes curl. not when his hands feel heated even through his clothes.

eventually, the pace slows. it’s softer, a little sweeter now, closing into something close-mouthed before he pulls away, temple knocking very gently into samatoki’s. his mind’s a whirlwind of thoughts, one thousand things going through his head all at once, most of them something like “oh my god”.

what comes out is—] Guess there’s not a tongue piercing. [ and then he breaks into a smile, warm and a little shitty and absolutely, totally giddy. ]

( breathing was one of those things samatoki decided to "conveniently" forget about in the heat of the moment, and his stubborness probably would have kept him going had ichiro not pulled himself away already. he stops himself from making a noise that almost sounds suspiciously like a whine, allowing a frown to grace his features in an attempt to hide it. )

You almost sound disappointed.

( it's something he hadn't considered but...

without thinking on it, his hand reaches over to touch the shell of ichiro's ear. his eyes are focused on where his fingers are starting to caress the soft skin there. )

When did you wanna get your ears pierced?

[ admittedly, that would have been pretty cool, but ichiro wasn't expecting one: he at least knows samatoki that well. it's not like he stares at his mouth or anything. . .

luckily he doesn't have too much time to say something stupid or shove his foot in his mouth about it, because his fingers brush the shell of his ear. it's a sensitive spot, and ichiro shivers, the gesture involuntary, tipping up into it like a puppy, eyes a little dark as he watches samatoki watch him. ]

Soon as possible. [ now is good. ]

( the reaction he draws out from ichiro manages to earn a raised eyebrow, spurring him into doing it again, touching where he thinks he'd like to pierce the skin. this is something he's going to file away for future reference — it's just good to know. )

Eager. ( thirsty. ) I don't have spare piercings to give you, unless...

( his gaze flick back to ichiro's face, watching his expression. )

You wanna wear one of mine.

[ ichiro can’t help it: his mouth draws up into a grin, teeth just shy of biting into his lower lip. it’s mischevious and greedy at the same time, the look of someone who knows he’s about to get something he wants. a distinctly ichiro look, stop and go eyes shining with the suggestion. he meets him head on, and maybe he doesn’t have to say anything— that face is answer enough.

granted, it’s not what he was expecting or even thinking about wanting, but now that samatoki said it.... ]

( samatoki was, and still is, learning to keep up with ichiro's pace, having no experience dealing with someone who has all the energy and eagerness in the world. meeting ichiro surely brought a lot more than he bargained for but he isn't really complaining. if it means he gets to see that bright smile for the rest of his life...

there's a chuckle that rumbles deep from his chest, amused by what's in front of him. he doesn't need to hear ichiro say anything to get the confirmation that the boy wants to be pierced with something samatoki owns, and isn't that a little bit intimate? he has nothing to describe the feeling it reels out of him.

something close to satisfaction, at least.

but instead of giving ichiro what he wants, his hand moves away from his ear and pinches his nose instead. )

Maybe not today. If we do it now, you look like you'll explode. But soon, yeah?

( have a consolation hair ruffle. )

Mmf-- [ that noise is complaining when his nose is pinched shut, ichiro's eyes shutting briefly and his cheeks coloring a little pink at the hair ruffle. it helps to loosen some of the frankly blazing sexual tension between them, and his shoulders hunch up a little, childishly, as he bats his hand away from his hair. ]

I'd be fine, jeez. [ but it's not heated or mean or anything--he still sounds like a puppy dog. besides, samatoki has a point: that kind of shit takes time and sanitation and ichiro's pretty damn content with his spot on samatoki's lap at the moment.

he huffs and leaves it at that, though, because let's be honest, he's not really interested in chasing that particular squabble (for once) when samatoki's right in front of him, and ichiro brings his hands up to touch one of samatoki's piercings instead, thumb brushing over the ring, a stud, the bar at the top. the gesture's a little intimate, too. ] Were you just screwing with me, or do you seriously have more?

( everything ichiro does in retaliation just reminds samatoki just how young he really is. his boyish charm and attitude are making the whole puppy dog thing a whole lot more effective than it should be, and so he finds himself feeling like he kicked a dog while it was already down. shit. is he just doomed from now on?

it's probably even too late to worry abour that now considering ichiro is still on his lap and there's nowhere else samatoki would want him to be. it just feels right, at this point, that this is how he should be spending his sunday night, caught up in the presence the boy he kept lowkey flirting with for some time now.

his head changes its angle if only to give ichiro better access to what caught his interest, red eyes fluttering shut at the curious touches. )

Thought the whole point of you comin' here was so you could find out?

( if ichiro needs an even more blatant invitation than that, samatoki might not have the patience to give it to him. )

[ well, that sure was an invitation.

ichiro grins at him again, the slightly puppy-dog pout almost melting off of his face with the sheer glee it inspires; it digs in his dimples and makes him shine. samatoki has all of his attention (he often does, when they're together, practically magnetized), and he watches the spread of his lashes against his cheek when they close, as his fingers brush a trail across the shell of his ear just to feel the bumps. ]

Just checking. [ so, yeah. he's going to find out. his mind spins with the possibilities, just briefly, but ichiro takes the newly reminded invitation and ducks in--a bit past his face, to press his lips where his fingers were, mouth closing around the piercing in his lobe as his hand finds a place in the front of his shirt. it lets him trace a trail, from ear down to his neck, wet, warm kisses exploring as much exposed skin (and it's samatoki, so god knows there's plenty) that he can. ]

( even with his eyes closed, samatoki can imagine the delight radiating from ichiro, happy to get what he's been wanting. he settles into a more relaxed position as ichiro explores what he has access to right now, and he has to stop himself from counting how many kisses he's been given inside his head. it's stupid, really, so he tries a distraction by way of placing his arms around ichiro and slipping them inside his shirt to feel bare skin.

he moves, just so he can deliver hushed words by ichiro's ear. )

Where do you wanna look first?

( slowly, he starts tracing lazy patterns on the other's back, maybe to encourage him to make up his mind soon. )

[ samatoki’s voice is gravelly and soft right by his ear, the cigarette smoke always near him in aural form: it’d make him shiver if he wasn’t so distracted putting his mouth all over samatoki’s skin instead. his brows pinch just briefly, though, and he lets the words slink down his spine, stopping where his teeth brush against his collarbone.

everywhere, his brain supplies helpfully, and though he’s loathe to pull much further up, ichiro glances upwards to look at samatoki through the thick curtain of his bangs, eyes dark with want. ] Nowhere I can reach that well here. [ maybe samatoki’ll let him pick him up. ] Bedroom?

( samatoki almost laughs, loud and booming, amused by ichiro's honesty. it bubbles deep within him but he manages to catch it before it escapes, settling for a soft snort that still translates his own amusement. he doesn't remember the last time he's dealt with someone so open and simple with what they want, so this is something he can appreciate and reward with a quick kiss on the lips.

when he pulls back, he can't stop from curving his mouth into a sly grin. )

Sure, but you gotta get off me or I'm not going anywhere.

( even if ichiro asks if he could pick him up, the answer would always be no, but when has that ever stopped anyone? )

[ wow, he really doesn’t want to do that, actually, but the faster they move onto other things the better. ichiro doesn’t quite lean in after the second kiss, but he takes a second longer to properly pull away and process. it’ll be worth it, after all.

despite being fairly eager, he manages to unfold himself from samatoki’s lap easily and steps back. he’s giving samatoki enough space to stand, but he offers his hand to pull him up anyway—it’s a guide or a support, or maybe he’d just like to hold his hand for a second.

...or maybe he’s just eager to get going. he’s not been back towards samatoki’s bedroom...hardly ever, so it’s not the most familiar route. (Otherwise he’d definitely be getting carried.) ]

( samatoki isn't too keen to let ichiro go either, since he fits so nicely in his lap, but he knows other things are in store for them so he doesn't protest... too much. his expression might have some hints that he didn't like suddenly moving spots as he takes ichiro's hand, standing up in front of him.

they linger like that for a while, before samatoki is jerking his head in the general direction of his bedroom. )

It's this way.

( the walk over to his bedroom doesn't seem like much, but there's still a lot to look at on the way. like how clean his kitchen is of takeout containers, or the photos of his mom and sister tucked away in a small shelf — little bits of his life that are just on display.

they barely get through the bedroom door before samatoki is kissing ichiro again, rough and heated this time. impatient. )

[ ichiro’ll have to test his luck with picking up samatoki later: he’s perfectly content with being led off by the hand. his curiosity helps to dissuade some of the embarrassingly warm feelings in his chest at the fact they’re holding hands, and his gaze tracks away from samatoki’s back to the apartment itself.

he kind of wonders what his room will look like: will it show his personality any more? who knows: he doesn’t get much time to think about it, or even look, though, because samatoki’s mouth on his, and suddenly ichiro doesn’t give a shit anymore. he responds to the pace of the case easily, immediately winding his hands into samatoki’s hair. ichiro’s got the half brain enough to kick the door shut behind him with his heel, but he’s right there with him, starting to walk samatoki back towards the direction where he thinks samatoki’s bed is. maybe. ]

( neither of them really bother with flicking the lights on once the door is shut closed, but it doesn't really matter since it's neither necessary or wanted. samatoki's room is still illuminated thanks to the pulsing bright lights of yokohama's city life. it's not las vegas but the rows of well-lit high-rise buildings and cosmo world's ferris wheel offer practically the same vibe. the view is all his room really has to offer, a singular window tall enough to reach both the floor and ceiling, making it look like it's so easy to fall —

and samatoki feels himself falling too, all caught up in ichiro's space and presence. everything about him. he deepens the kiss by encouraging him to open up, hands clinging to the fabric of his bomber jacket as ichiro guides them to the bed. when he feels the edge of the mattress, he gradually lowers himself and drags ichiro on top of him, kissing him the entire time.

he only really pulls away to start trailing kisses down ichiro's jaw, the side of his neck, and where his shoulder starts. it's like he can't make up his mind where he wants to settle — and maybe mark him. )

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