[ if samatoki's paying attention, he'll probably hear ichiro's laugh: it's as loud and bright as he is, and the door clicks open a second later. has he forgotten how thirsty he was five minutes ago? of course not. is he still willing to prod at his favorite person to prod at? absolutely.
there's the sound of him fussing around in the entry, taking his shoes off, shutting the door, and before a minute or two goes by, ichiro's broad forearms are resting on the couch behind samatoki's head and he grins down at him. ] Ten minutes or less or your money back, right?
( ichiro's laughter carries over from outside to where samatoki is situated. he curses himself for feeling like his heart skipped a beat, but it all smooths over before the delivery boy let himself in. he's perfected the art of a resting bitch face as he looks up at the bright stop-and-go eyes smiling down at him. )
Can I get a refund anyway? You didn't bring any food.
( no one said he had to make this easy, even though he practically asked ichiro to come here himself. )
Depends, how can I pay you for it? [ [ ichiro’s eyes are practically twinkling with the mischief of it all; he’s alight just being there, a sun brought down to earth. after all, “easy” is boring; he likes this tsundere route he’s found himself following.
leaning over just that little more, he brushes the tip of his nose against samatoki’s just because it’s there, affectionate as always. ]
( 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. )
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. ]
( 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. )
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i changed my mind
you cant see it anymore if youre gonna come that fast
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now who's got the dirty mind, i was talking about driving
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and i'll show you exactly how wrong that is
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we'll see about that
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i'll be happy to.
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( see ya in 5. )
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he rings the doorbell anyway, like a little shit. ]
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ichiro's phone alerts him a new message. )
you know its open, brat
( two can play this game. )
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[ the doorbell rings again. :) ]
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you have five seconds or im gonna get up just to lock the door
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there's the sound of him fussing around in the entry, taking his shoes off, shutting the door, and before a minute or two goes by, ichiro's broad forearms are resting on the couch behind samatoki's head and he grins down at him. ] Ten minutes or less or your money back, right?
[ can u see his tail wagging ]
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Can I get a refund anyway? You didn't bring any food.
( no one said he had to make this easy, even though he practically asked ichiro to come here himself. )
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leaning over just that little more, he brushes the tip of his nose against samatoki’s just because it’s there, affectionate as always. ]
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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. )
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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?
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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. )
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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. ]
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( 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. )
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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. ]
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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. )
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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. ]
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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.)
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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. ]
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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?
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