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Ijichi’s back didn’t ache. In fact, it’s the first time in ages he’s felt this much relief outside of the softness of his own bed. He decided to focus on that fact instead of the heavy warmth crawling up his side, deft fingers resting when they found his jaw and petting like he was a much more delicate thing. Ijichi was so screwed.
Surely Nanami could hear the quick beats of his heart, could feel the shakiness of his fingers, his breath. Is he doing this right? Is he supposed to be saying something? Is this what Nanami was expecting? His hands felt warm and unsure against strong shoulders, grasping soft cotton and hiding his face in Nanami’s neck.
“Kiyotaka.” He was cosseted out of his worrying with the sudden use of his name, just as gentle as the guiding hands placing his head back onto the pillows. His eyes were firmly shut, only persuaded to open after nanami kissed his eyelashes. It made him feel dizzy and wanted. He didn’t even know that was an option.
He blinked away the tears forming just from being treated so intricately, hoping poor Nanami didn’t notice. He didn’t want to worry him any further. He let go of the fabric under his fingers, caressing away the crease they left. He wondered how many people got to wrinkle Nanami’s shirts. The thought made him blush even deeper, heat spreading over his face and down his neck.
He realized he hadn’t answered Nanami at all when he heard his name again, right next to his ear this time, followed by a chaste kiss. Ijichi thought his brain would explode. He should say something. “I..” the words got lost in his throat. Want this? Need you? Should something be said simply because it’s true?
“I’m alright.” He could guess that Nanami was worried despite his best efforts, a calloused thumb soothing his temple. The assurance was quiet, and his current physical state wasn’t helping. Kiyotaka looked.. incorrigible. His usual neatly laid hair was a mess, glasses foggy and useless slipping down his nose, unsteadily eager hands trying to pull the man above him even closer.
-
Nanami felt irredeemable. There is this beautiful, blushingly anxious man under him and he isn’t completely sure he’s doing all of this right. He doesn’t want to push gentle Ijichi.
Though he wasn’t expecting anything at all, Kiyotaka was gracious enough to let him see this side of him anyway; to let him try to kiss the worry out of his head.
He should take this slower, not rush things. He should say something. “Are you sure?” And then, after an overly polite nod, “Should I say your name again anyway?”
-
Everything Ijichi felt was new; every touch, every ounce of Nanami’s attention and energy focused on him, it was like he was drowning in some strong and beautiful river. He wanted to fall further in, let Nanamin whisk him away from all of the nonsense habitually clouding his mind.
Before he could be swept away completely he bravely decided to do something he’d been thinking about for years and leaned in to kiss Nanami’s nose.
Perfect. Of course. He couldn’t help but keep his face there, letting their foreheads meet and hoping his weary hands wandering over Nanami’s back was a fraction as comforting as his presence over him.
Ijichi wanted.. more. Whatever that meant, he wasn’t completely sure. The knee between his legs keeping Nanami upright wasn’t helping. Maybe it was helping too much. He could hardly think at all. How lovely.
This much he was for sure; there are calm hands- Nanamis hands coddling him, a few dared sweet words being whispered that he’s trying as hard as he can to memorize, and the desire to fall asleep in this peaceful moment they’ve created together creeping up on him. There is still so much he wants to do, so much he wants to say.
Nanami is only shushing his whines, insisting that it’s more than okay that he deserves the rest, taking off his glasses with care to place them on the nightstand. Ijichi wanted, wanted, wanted.
For now, for both of them, this was enough.