This is just a cliche oneshot with an extraordinarily stupid title that I wrote one day for no particular reason. It's separate from Four Words Less, and set in a slight AU where Five hangs around instead of betraying the Garde, and where he and Nine are eighteen and twenty, respectively.
Fair warning, this is smut (my first one, in fact); here be lemons, mild as they may be. Enjoy!
Their first time is fast and messy and can't be put away neatly at the end.
It's a little bit like baking, actually, if baking were terribly, terribly awkward.
One moment they are arguing over videogames versus training (Nine has gotten up in Five's face and Five has gotten up right back in his); the next, Nine is tired of watching that mouth move, and abruptly squashes it with a kiss.
(Squashes is the only word for it. Nine has had many skills drilled into him over the years, and kissing is not one of them.)
The surprise he feels at himself is nothing compared to his surprise when Five kisses him back, gently, hesitantly; and then less gently and much less hesitantly (if no less awkwardly, because he is Five and this is all new to him too).
He breaks away, shocked and disoriented, trying to ignore the guilt Five's hurt look makes him feel, and the way the soft light of the screen plays over his face and through his hair, which has finally started to grow out a little, and the way he can see his own reflection in those brown eyes.
"I— I— What're they gonna think?" he stammers, to say something, his heart hammering.
(They, of course, means every single important person in the world, all of whom live in this building with them.)
"Th-they're not here," says Five, trying to get his breath back, looking anywhere but at Nine.
And that's when Nine decides, hell with it, and steps forward and winds his fingers into Five's hair and kisses him again.
And then there are teeth and tongues and rapidly-bruising lips, clumsy hands moving from one place to another, unsure where to settle and needing more, rustling and zipping and muttered curses as clothes work themselves off and onto the floor.
And then there are touches, careful and exploratory for all of thirty seconds before their impatience gets the best of them and they are gasping and groaning and not being careful at all, leaning back against the arm of the couch because they can't be bothered to make the transition from vertical to horizontal.
Fuelled by months of pent-up tension and aggression as they are, it isn't long before Five's breath hitches sharply, once, twice, and he is pressing his face into Nine's shoulder as he falls crashing, shuddering, over the edge; the spastic movements of his hand and the gasp of his name bring Nine with him, and he forgets how to breathe as the world turns into fireworks.
It is a while before either of them makes a move to disentangle themselves. (Nine will wonder later on why Five was the first one to make this move, and not him.) The hobbit-dork excuses himself to go clean up, and Nine can't blame him; he just wishes he'd thought to call the shower first.
So he curls up on the couch and waits, listening to the water run, and thinks.
Obviously, Five hates him, and the feeling is mutual. Nine isn't really sure what this was, or how the hell it happened, but he knows nothing is going to come of it. Strangely enough, he feels a pang at the thought of avoiding Five, but from now on he doesn't really have a choice. He can't look him in his smug jerk face ever again, not with this hanging over his head.
If he tells anyone we did this, Nine thinks numbly, I'll fucking kill him.
That's all there is to it. Lay down the letter of the law, take some anti-blackmail measures, never talk to him again unless you have to.
Right after I shower…
It's only when the sun is in his eyes that he realizes he's fallen asleep on the couch, and that someone has mistaken him for a teddy bear.
On closer inspection he finds that this someone is Five, who looks a lot less smug when he's asleep. He's wearing shorts and a T-shirt, and his soft, quiet breathing puffs gently against Nine's neck.
Nine almost wakes him up, shoves him off the couch and gets started with the yelling and threats.
Almost.
He is stopped by how very warm Five's skin is
and by the fact that Five is hugging him like he owes the bastard money
and by the fact that Nine is sticky and sweaty and naked and covered with evidence of the night before and doesn't smell too great
(and is considering beating Five's face in if he ever, ever tells anyone)
and by the thought that Five is wrapped around him anyway.
So instead he closes his eyes and he goes back to sleep, and if Five murmurs something in his ear he's not awake to hear it.