'You're actually disgusting, you know that right?'
Takeru rolls his eyes, unable to really shake Taichi off as he leaves long and slow kisses against Takeru's neck. It's hot, sure, but at the same time… literally everyone they know is here. Takeru isn't as gone as Taichi, he hasn't nearly had enough to drink. If anything, he's a little jealous. He's a little more lithe, but somehow he has all the tolerance.
Taichi ignores him, and leaves a wet kiss just shy of Takeru's collarbone - it's clear to everyone how much further Taichi wanted to go, but thankfully Takeru is able to shake him off. Takeru's reproachful look does nothing, however, and Taichi only grins manically.
'I don't care.' Taichi admits with a hoarse chuckle that jolts Takeru at the knees, 'You know where I'd rather be right now.'
Takeru can't help but snort. 'Not now, later, you ass.'
Taichi shrugs, but allows Takeru to twist in the hold so that his back is pressed against Taichi's front. Takeru takes a hold of Taichi's hands, puts them on his shoulders (and away from his waist, where they'd been dipping beneath his sweatshirt), and begins the stumbling trek back towards the group.
Literally everyone has come out tonight; Sora, Koushiro, Mimi, Jyou… Yamato did not look impressed at all. Fuck, was Takeru going to have to answer to that later. Parts of him were really not bothered; everyone that mattered knew that Takeru and Taichi were an item. They'd been dating for a while now, and it was serious enough that those who needed to know already knew. Though, they had to be careful - some people they'd wanted to tell they'd had to lie to, but it couldn't be helped if some people weren't that accepting.
Takeru didn't care; he was happy, and being happy was doing him wonders. It still is, in fact.
The music pulses through him, and the two of them stride back into the horde of friends. The weight of Taichi's hands on his shoulders disappears as they settle, and the sensation is replaced by Sora's arm sneaking around his waist.
She seems relatively alright. Her eyes aren't quite as glazed over as Taichi's, or Mimi's - both of whom are flat out drunk and the token lightweights of the group. But, compared to Jyou and Koushiro, she wasn't close. Someone needed to get those two some shots. Takeru didn't know how anyone could possibly go clubbing sober.
'You 'kay?' asks Sora, bopping to the music.
Takeru nods, and shouts back, 'You?'
Sora doesn't hear him over the music, but doesn't loosen her grip on him. The beer bottle in her hand hardly shakes, despite how hyped they are and how jerkily they're moving when holding each other - it's a testament to their tolerance, Takeru thinks. It'll be hilarious to tease Taichi tomorrow.
In the middle of their circle, amidst the crowd, Mimi is slow-dancing to a song that isn't slow, and Taichi is with her. It's kinda hot; to see him grinding his hips like that, knowing who he really saves all the best moves for. Mimi does her best too; it's convenient for everyone to have a few gay besties in the group. Takeru is sure that eventually he and Sora will end up competing with the two - and win. Takeru is a better dancer for sure.
His brother grabs his wrist, and asks pointedly, 'Do you want some water?'
Takeru smiles wryly, and says bluntly, 'Nah.'
Takeru appreciates the gesture, but not the insinuations that come with it. He can handle himself, and he can handle his alcohol. Sure, his brother and his boyfriend might have a few years on him, but that doesn't mean he isn't capable. If anything, he's doing the best job at maintaining control of his faculties. He doesn't need people to look after him. His brother doesn't need to chaperone him. What was Takeru doing to arouse suspicion? He's allowed to enjoy his boyfriend - and anyway; was he the one wining in the middle of the floor?
Ok, not yet… and admittedly he had been planning to. But he wasn't, yet. That was the main thing.
He wanted Taichi back. Yamato is just sour because he prefers rock music to hip-hop.
Takeru shakes his brother away and separates Sora's clingy arm, before attaching the two of them together so that they're otherwise occupied and so they can't say that he left either of them alone. Then, he lunges forward and manages to get between Mimi and Taichi. Mimi squeals, and Takeru laughs, because he's facing her and it's hilarious; he can afford a few gyrations with a friend before grabbing his significant other. None of the rest of them are attached; it's safer to act as together as possible - they avoid random confrontations with strangers better that way.
Mimi kisses his cheek innocently, and spins Takeru around - forever helpful, as far as Takeru is concerned. It's just what he needed, because Taichi is turning at the same time - and is pleasantly surprised to see that his dance partner has been replaced. Their hands immediately grab at each other, and Taichi somehow manages to pull him close again.
Takeru isn't feeling it - it's hot, there's people everywhere, and he's got a heavy sweatshirt on. The only air he can feel is on his face, his hands, and (oddly) at the knees of his ripped jeans, and it's all too hot. Frankly, they all need to clear their heads a bit. Happy he doesn't have a drink in his hands, he takes Taichi's hand in one of his own and spins back around.
To Yamato and Sora, in earshot of the others, he begs, 'Can we get some air?'
Yamato nods with easy acceptance (Takeru can't help but feel like he's just admitted defeat to something), and takes Sora's waist before leading the way. Taichi, Takeru and Mimi form a small gaggle behind them, and the other guys follow. They make it to the smoking area, where the air is everything but fresh; punters puffing at their second or third cigarette - Yamato pulling out his first.
Takeru hates cigarettes. He's woken up several times after nights out with the taste of them smothering his throat, and the smell of them stuck in his nose, but he never remembers ever smoking them. He likes to think that he doesn't actively seek them out, but they find him. It's an Ishida-men thing. It helps that Taichi doesn't like to smoke either, not that he's in a state to attest it. He stays compliant beside Takeru.
The moment to breathe is welcome, and they take stock of each other; yes, Taichi still has his keys, yes, Mimi's clutch is still attached to her, yes, Yamato's lighter is put safely back in Takeru's back pocket; Yamato doesn't like to fill the pockets of his skinny jeans, and Takeru is the one he trusts most. Yamato also knows that Taichi can't grab his younger brother's ass so much in front of him if those back pockets have actual contents.
Go figure.
Takeru frowns; there's a shiny patch where alcohol has splashed onto the front of his all-black converses, which sucks because he's going to have to clean them as soon as possible. He just wants to get back to Taichi's dorm (having given his brother back his shit), maybe have fumbling desperate drunk sex, but definitely fall asleep naked. It's the best way to sleep - anyone who's done it would agree.
'I like this dress.' Takeru tells Sora absent-mindedly, striking conversation so he can concentrate on something that isn't him trying to act as not-tipsy as possible. He loves Yamato, and doesn't want him to worry any more than he wants to.
Sora smiles sheepishly, and says, 'Mimi picked it. We match!'
They did match; he was wearing an orange sweatshirt that was still new, and it left bright orange fluff all over the top of his jeans where it sat. At least he wouldn't get lost, looking like a handsome piece of fruit. Sora's short dress was a paler shade, and the neckline was way more conservative than some of the t-shirts Takeru wore. But still, she looked hot.
'You look hot, really!'
She blushes, but grins, and blows him an amused kiss, because they're friends and it's a compliment and she has that sort of admirable grace where she can take it without coming across as arrogant.
'You look hot too, Takeru!'
He and Sora turn, and Mimi is back with Taichi - Mimi, who just butted into the conversation, drags a very drunk Taichi with her. 'We have a similar sense of style.'
Takeru appraises her own look, which is (for the lack of a better word) sluttier than what Sora agreed to wear, and nods before taking Taichi's hand once again. 'One to ten?'
Taichi stops swaying on the spot, so immediately it's almost comic, before taking another steadying breath and replying, 'Five, Teeks.'
Takeru shakes his head, and disagrees with an amused smirk, 'You're more than a five.'
'I'll be fine,'
'Yeah, 'cause I'm here looking after you.'
Taichi smiles widely, and even though Takeru can't quite see his boyfriend's pupils, he knows they're unfocused. It's endearing, but Takeru isn't drunk enough to not be worried at all. A small part of him is happy for Taichi, and the rest is either wary or mildly concerned. At the end of the day (well, night) they're there to have a good time - the only reason to worry is the usual stuff.
They get into a lot of fights. Some people are very vocal with their homophobia, and Taichi hates leaving them alone when arguments are sparked. Maybe that's half of the reason Yamato is so stiff when they go out - he has a sixth sense for that kind of thing. Takeru hates it too - resents it, in fact. He always ends up crying somehow, and getting looked after even if barely anything physical happens to him is becoming his thing. Takeru can take care of himself - the issue is (and they all seem to know, and silently agree amongst themselves) that he over-appreciates the attention, and searches for it in the event that shit goes down.
He'd tell anyone that said that to his face to fuck off.
'What time is it?' One of the girls asks. 'The club seems to be winding down.'
Koushiro replies from beside them, 'Twenty to three.'
'Maybe we should make a move, then.' Yamato decides.
Takeru nods in agreement, and pulls Taichi closer. He really wants to get to bed.
They chain up again by hands, and snake their way out of the club. There's only one instance where someone tumbles down a few steps, but no one is hurt and it's all fun and games. Outside, it's busy streets and glowing lights - the road is a neon blur, and Takeru lets the others organise transport.
Mimi goes with Jyou and Koushiro, who live in one side of town. Taichi and Takeru go with Yamato as planned, but Sora is coming with them too - there's some talk about a promise by Yamato to walk her back to hers from his, but how long she's staying is not information they're all privy to. The four of them fall into a taxi (Yamato in the front seat), and Takeru decides that he can afford to leave all of his pretences on the curb behind them.
Really, he wants to get mindless. He wants to loose control. He's sensible in reality, but when it doesn't matter anymore, he wants to be as stupid and reckless as possible.
So it's no wonder that his hand finds it's way to Taichi's lap.
It's an unspoken promise - there's action to be had. Whether in the morning, or the next day, or within the next couple of days… it wouldn't matter. Takeru is confident they'll enjoy themselves, because they enjoy each other. It's as simple as that.
Taichi's hand falls over the one that's creeping up the inseam of his jeans, and their fingers interlock.
The cab stops suddenly, and they shake, and Sora yelps - Taichi has to let go of Takeru to settle her, but grabs his hand back as soon as possible. It feels right, Takeru thinks. It's like an extension of himself. They clamber out of the taxi, Yamato pays, and the four of them walk back into the dorms.
They all go to one building; Taichi is on floor three, and Yamato on four. So, they separate; Taichi and Takeru opt for the stairs, because they're impatient and young and certain. They leave the other budding couple behind with hugs and pecks to the cheek and cheeky winks (an exclusive special from Takeru to Sora).
In the stairwell, Taichi admits, 'I'm fucked.'
'Yeah, you are,' Takeru agrees, only now able to hear how hoarse their voices are. 'We'll get you some water, ok?'
Taichi nods, and Takeru puts one of Taichi's arms over his shoulder. It's a struggle, to be honest, but each step is a victory and their morale is as high as ever. The last set is the worst - Taichi dropped to the ground at one point and Takeru was forced to threaten him with sleeping alone, which managed to inspire some energy back into him.
It was pretty funny how threatening his stupid little threats could be.
When they get back to Taichi's room, Takeru shucks his sweatshirt off. His body is shiny with sweat, and his muscles feel tense. It doesn't help that Taichi is all over him in seconds - him de-clothing hadn't been intended as an invitation for sex.
Almost as if Taichi had read his mind, he admits, 'Sorry, baby, I think I'm too tired to do anything much tonight.' It doesn't stop him from pinching Takeru's nipple and attempting to force another hickey into his neck.
Takeru kisses him shortly, and double-checks quietly, 'You sure? I could go on top, do all the work…?'
Taichi - to Takeru's credit - takes a second and sighs before shaking his head and answering, 'Tomorrow.'
Takeru nods, because he hadn't expected anything anyway, and forces Taichi to wash his face and brush his teeth. He does the same - different toothbrushes, he's got his own towels and everything. It's cosy, and the room itself is modest and cute. At some point, Taichi has pulled the window open a bit, and the cool air hits his torso. It feels like he's been forced into a corset; his abdomen tightens and he just wants to lie down.
They slip into bed, and Taichi expends the last vestiges of his energy stripping them of all of their clothes before promptly knocking out.
Takeru likes it like this; quiet, but for the sounds of the world outside; the sky that odd shade of blue when the sun is rising somewhere else; Taichi's claiming arm weighing him down, his steady breath on the back of his head. This is his favourite part about their relationship - it's so easy. Takeru prefers skin-on-skin. There's no fussing, either - Taichi is a still sleeper. Thankfully, he doesn't snore either. Takeru isn't sure if he's ready to admit to himself how much of a deal-breaker that would've been.
Takeru likes it in their bed - not Taichi's, but theirs. He isn't planning on leaving anytime soon. It's comfy and just the right balance of soft and hard, and just the right balance of warm and chilly. The only issue is that while Taichi can fall asleep in seconds, it takes Takeru a while.
Facing Taichi's bedside table, he looks past the picture-frames of their friends, of Taichi's little sister, of himself, and out the window; the sky is cloudless, and promises a kind day. That sounds sappy - Takeru read that phrase in a book somewhere. He could be poetic when he wanted to.
He can already feel his mind turning off. It's slow, and a process, but it's happening.
Takeru pulls Taichi's arm tighter around him, and completely lets go.
