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"Koyama," Tegoshi announces, pointing to the small mountains that surround the capital city of Santiago, and Koyama laughs out loud at the pun. "There are koyama everywhere!"

"You're adorable," Koyama says, lifting his hand to scritch the back of Tegoshi's head where the hair has flattened from his beanie. It’s supposed to be autumn in Chile, but global warming seems to have other plans.

Even international idols have to wait in line at customs, and Tegoshi busies himself on his phone while Koyama looks around. He'd slept through the whole overnight flight, Tegoshi practically in his lap (what arm rest?), so he's wide awake and ready to see the town.

It's one of the few times Koyama has been somewhere without a camera in his face, even if it's of his own volition. It's millennial nature to document one's travels electronically, for sharing with family/friends/fans as well as personal memories to revisit at will, but Koyama's phone is safely in his pocket and has been since they landed.

This time, he wants to see everything through his own eyes, not the two-dimensional lens of his phone.

He and Massu had just gone to Ecuador a little while ago, and Tegoshi's been to several South American countries, but there has always been someone to translate for them. Together, they manage some passable Spanish to the police officer admitting them to the country, or perhaps he just takes pity on them and assumes they're too cute to be dangerous.

Uber is universal and they make it to the AirBNB without any substantial language barriers. Koyama stares out the window the whole ride, taking in the buildings and infrastructure that reminds him a little of New York City, only with much wider streets. A glance over to Tegoshi shows the younger man doing the exact same thing, though his stare looks more aimless, like the bustling city streets serve as a backdrop whipping by while his mind wanders.

Or maybe he’s not thinking about anything at all. Koyama doesn’t actually know what goes on in that one’s head, only what he chooses to share with the others, with Koyama specifically. Since this trip isn’t for work, Tegoshi’s doesn’t need to be “on” the whole time, or even at all, so Koyama doesn’t expect much of Tegoshi’s special blend of boisterous positivity, which has actually subdued a bit as they’ve gotten older. He can still be loud and obnoxious when he wants to be, but there’s nobody to show off for here.

When the Uber driver pulls up on the actual sidewalk to let them out in front of an apartment building at a busy intersection, Koyama starts to grab Tegoshi's luggage like any other time they've travelled anywhere for work, but Tegoshi surprises him by lifting his own suitcase from the back of the Uber and even helping Koyama with his.

“Thanks,” Koyama says, bewildered at the sudden role reversal, and Tegoshi just shakes his head dismissively. Even after fifteen years of working together, that one somehow manages to surprise him.

They could only get away for a couple days before the start of the tour, which were purposely scheduled off by their group manager as a mandatory break. Massu had taken off somewhere with Nakamaru while Shige loudly declared that he was turning off his phone and hibernating in his apartment the entire time.

Tegoshi, being Tegoshi, had randomly decided that he wanted to visit Chile, and Koyama didn't have anything better to do. Scratch that—he didn't have anything better he wanted to do. There were a million different things he could have done with his time off, but none of them seemed as interesting as taking an impromptu vacation with just Tegoshi.

If nothing else, it will give them ample fodder for their fan service in the upcoming concerts. Not that they need any help, basically coming out as boyfriends on K-chan News several times, but the pair of them could have the most boring trip ever and still find a way to enjoy themselves.

It's funny because they're not having a thing, at least anymore than very close colleagues who are incredibly comfortable with each other and complement each other in a multitude of ways, both personally and professionally. And they both love women, though Koyama knows first-hand that loving women and loving men are not mutually exclusive.

Tegoshi doesn't count anyway. He may have been born with the same parts as Koyama, as anyone who's been on tour or sometimes out to karaoke with them has seen, but he's as much of a woman as anyone Koyama has dated before. Shige likes to call them both out for assigning problematic personality characteristics to binary genders like one's genitalia comes with a terms and conditions manual, but Koyama only knows what a few of those words mean and finds it easier to keep these thoughts to himself to avoid getting a lecture from the published feminist of the group.

He doesn't bat an eyelash when Tegoshi changes into a sundress and floppy hat upon exiting the shower. The stall was smaller than the ones in Japan, but they had managed to squeeze in together to wash off the long flight. Tegoshi let Koyama wash his hair as usual, but he returned the favor without being asked and Koyama's more shocked at that than his feminine apparel.

"I feel so much better," Tegoshi says, the dress billowing behind him in the slight breeze as he steps out onto the balcony overlooking the city, and Koyama can't tell whether he's referring to the shower or the dress. His arm muscles would look out of place if Koyama hadn't spent the last 18 years of his life in the entertainment industry where men were encouraged to cross-dress, though he wouldn't use that term for Tegoshi now. Tegoshi's just dressed.

"You look cute," Koyama says automatically, then laughs when Tegoshi crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue over his shoulder. "Even like that!"

"I feel cute," Tegoshi says, his voice soft and even. It’s worlds away from his trademark idol narcissism and Koyama smiles, pleased that he can be comfortable in his skin off stage. In the past, it hasn't been that easy.

"Shall we go eat?" Koyama suggests, and Tegoshi shrugs. "Still not hungry?"

"No, I am," Tegoshi answers, then chuckles. "It's that time of the month where Massu replaces my appetite suppressants with vitamins and thinks I don't notice."

Koyama laughs in spite of the underlying seriousness of this topic. "I'm sure they have them here, if you really want them."

Tegoshi shrugs again. "The only reason I take them in the first place is to regulate my food intake. If Massu thinks I need to eat more, then I will. I trust him."

Something in Koyama's heart swells upon hearing that, physically feeling how much his members care about each other. It's why he loves being the leader, their leader. Nothing makes him happier than hearing about the other three members taking care of each other, especially when he's not there to interfere.

All he does is nod though, joining Tegoshi out on the balcony to enjoy the view. The buildings are older and the air just as polluted as he’s used to, but the sun is shining down on them without a cloud in the sky and Koyama lifts up his face, eyes closed, his skin soaking up the rays.

"It already feels like we're at the beach," he says, and Tegoshi grunts his agreement. They're not heading out to Viña del Mar until tomorrow morning, but Koyama may be satisfied with the strong Chilean sun in the meantime.

"Shall we go?" Tegoshi asks this time, and Koyama nods.

They wander around aimlessly, exploring the local restaurants and bars before choosing one solely because its name translates to "The Hole." Tegoshi tries to ask the server for recommendations, but he mixes up Spanish and Portuguese and the server simply points to something on the drink menu that looks like a milkshake.

“Earthquake,” he over-emphasizes in English, and Koyama and Tegoshi exchange a shrug. Koyama likes milkshakes, alcoholic or not.

It's only 2pm, but the other patrons seem to have pitchers of this drink at their tables, even the families with young kids, and Koyama figures when in Chile, do as the Chileans do. The Chileans also seem to love their meat, piles of it on their plates with nothing else but fries, to which the two carnivores adapt easily.

The earthquake drink is local white wine, grenadine, and pineapple ice cream, which is so delicious that Koyama finds himself a little tipsy before they’re halfway through the pitcher. Tegoshi’s in a similar state, though he’s just as relaxed as he has been since they left Japan, like the change of scenery is enough to erase all of the stress and worries from his body.

Up until recently, Koyama didn’t think that Tegoshi had any stress and worries at all, but even harmlessly self-centered idols have to grow up eventually. The scandals and uncertainty of the past couple years have taken their toll on all four of them, most notably Tegoshi. The youngest member will declare to the ends of the earth and back that he loves his job and everything about his life, but Koyama knows as well as anyone else that growing up in the spotlight can be a double-edged sword.

“You’re staring at me,” Tegoshi breaks through Koyama’s internal monologue, peering curiously at Koyama from under his own heavy lids. Maybe Tegoshi hadn't slept on the plane as well as Koyama had.

“Just appreciating the view,” Koyama teases, and Tegoshi rolls his eyes. “Are you tired?”

“No,” Tegoshi answers, offering a small smile that turns into a short laugh. “I’m a little drunk though.”

“Me too,” Koyama admits. “Those earthquakes are no joke.”

Tegoshi’s grin returns and Koyama didn’t know how much he had missed it until it lit up his life again. “Let’s go shopping!”

It’s not being drunk in public if they’re in a foreign country, Koyama rationalizes as he’s dragged through a number of stores in a large shopping area nearby. The fashion trends seem to have expected it to be autumn too, because pretty much everything on display is long-sleeved and heavy. Koyama doesn’t even want to look at alpaca-hair sweaters when it’s 30 degrees outside, especially when he’s already breaking a sweat from power-walking through buildings without aircon.

“’No means no’,” Tegoshi reads from a clothing display, and it’s strange enough for Koyama to peer over Tegoshi’s shoulder at all of the feminist slogans scrawled artfully across the sweatshirts. “We should get this for Shige.”

“He would love it,” Koyama says, leaning forward for a back hug since he’s already there. Tegoshi rests back into it with a soft noise of contentment before he hunts for Shige’s size. “And it will get him off of our case for a few months,” Koyama adds.

“Exactly,” Tegoshi agrees, and Koyama gives him one more squeeze before pulling away. As much as he loves physical affection, it is way too hot for anymore than a few seconds at a time.

Koyama is 100% positive that the checkout person thinks Tegoshi is a woman, chattering aimlessly to him as she rings him up like they’re best friends, at least until she realizes he has no idea what she’s saying. She hands him a flier on their way out, and with a little help from Google Translate they determine that they have been invited to a feminist march on International Women’s Day.

“Good thing we leave the day before,” Tegoshi says with a shudder. “Angry girls scare me.”

Koyama leaves that alone and navigates them through the other stores, Tegoshi clinging to his arm like they’re on a date. Maybe they are—who knows. He’s certain that everyone else thinks they’re on a date, or in a relationship, and he doesn’t care here anymore than he does in Japan. Even if someone were to leak pictures of them like this, it’d be the best scandal to date. For both of them.

The sun sets behind the mountains as they Uber back to the AirBNB, and it would be a romantic sight if Koyama wasn’t totally overheated with a mild headache from daydrinking. He expects Tegoshi to fling off the dress the minute they walk in the door, but the other idol just flops onto the couch with his shopping bags, looking to all the world that he could fall asleep just like that.

“What time are we leaving for the beach tomorrow?” he asks, his voice low like he doesn’t have the energy to lift it up into a proper question.

“Whenever we get up.” Koyama loads the bus schedule on the phone and struggles to decipher the badly translated Spanish. “I think the bus leaves every half hour.”

Tegoshi makes a noncommittal noise, the rise and fall of his chest evening out as he really does fall asleep like that. Koyama leaves him to it, relocating the shopping bags into bedroom to sort through later and and pushing through what little energy he has left to unpack a little and neaten up. It’s barely 8pm and curling up next to Tegoshi seems more and more appealing with each passing second. Must be jet lag.

But when he returns to the main room, Tegoshi’s frowning so hard that Koyama shakes him awake, watching the expression soften as Tegoshi’s eyelashes flutter open. “Hmm?”

“You were making a sad face,” Koyama tells him, easily adapting to Tegoshi curling up against him now. Suddenly, it’s not that hot anymore. “Are you upset about something?”

Tegoshi yawns. “Yeah, but I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Koyama’s heart breaks at the admission, but he respects Tegoshi’s wishes. “Okay. If you change your mind, I’m here.”

“I know,” Tegoshi says, snuggling closer. “You’re always here.”

The tone of his voice is odd, like it’s more of a hindrance than a comfort, but Koyama can’t make any sense out of that. Instead, he gently sifts his fingers through Tegoshi’s hair and revels at the soft noise he receives in response. Anything he can do to make Tegoshi feel better is his priority now, even if it’s just remaining quiet while Tegoshi carries his burdens alone.

“You’d tell me if it was bad, right?” he thinks out loud, trying to calm his heartbeat at the possibility of history repeating itself.

“I would,” Tegoshi murmurs, then slings an arm around Koyama’s waist in a lazy hug. “Don’t worry, Kei-chan. I’ve been taking my medicine and going to therapy. It's not the depression this time. I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

“I believe you,” Koyama says. “Sorry to make it about me.”

Tegoshi hums and Koyama leaves him to his thoughts, as much as it hurts. The back door is open and their neighbors sound like they’re having a party, or maybe that’s just how Chileans spend their Monday nights. The mixture of music and conversation is comforting, along with the evening breeze that brings much-needed cool air into the room.

They lie silent for a few minutes, until Tegoshi stretches and hops to his feet like the short nap had completely rejuvenated him. “I’m hungry. Let’s go find dinner, and maybe some more of those earthquakes.”

“Sure,” Koyama agrees easily. “Whatever you want.”

Tegoshi beams at him, which only gets brighter as the night goes on. There’s a hole in the wall bar across the street that’s showing a soccer game, and Tegoshi manages to get into a heated discussion with another patron without either fully understanding the other’s language. He’s having a good time though, and that’s all that matters.

They order a bunch of appetizers (the menu category translates as “for chopping,” which astounds both of them) in lieu of actual food, figuring that all the carbs will help absorb the alcohol they’re putting away. About halfway through the second pitcher of earthquakes, Tegoshi holds up one of the biscuit-wrapped cheese sticks called tequenos and gives Koyama a very serious face, the kind where nothing at all serious can end up coming from it.

“What does this look like to you?” he asks, and Koyama peers at him in confusion until Tegoshi takes his finger and thumb and makes a vulgar motion along one of the ends.

“Yuuya!” Koyama hisses, and Tegoshi bursts out laughing. It’s one of his full-body laughs that has him struggling not to fall completely out of the booth, and Koyama’s only concerned for a few seconds before he starts cracking up too.

“Too bad Shige’s phone is off,” Tegoshi says as he catches his breath. “I could send him a cheese dick pic.”

“This is why you don’t have a Jweb,” Koyama teases him.

Tegoshi snorts and pulls out his phone, making this big show of fake-typing while narrating. “Good evening, my precious kittens. Kei-chan and I are getting wrecked by tasty earthquakes. Here’s a picture of me fellating a cheese dick.”

He pops a tequeno halfway into this mouth and puffs up his cheeks, flashing the peace sign for a selfie, and Koyama shakes his head.

“I’m sending that one to Shige,” Tegoshi goes on after eating the tequeno properly. “It’ll be a nice surprise when he goes back on the grid.”

Koyama’s still laughing, interrupting himself every so often to slurp down some more of the tasty earthquakes, and he’s drunk enough to speak before he thinks. “You sure seem to know what you’re doing there.”

“Like you haven’t done it,” Tegoshi scoffs, only a little defensively, and Koyama raises his eyebrows as much as he can with his eyes barely open.

“I was kidding, but now I want to know.” Koyama stares while Tegoshi’s face turns red for the first time in Koyama’s memory, or maybe it’s the alcohol.

Then Tegoshi’s eyes snap up to meet his and he grabs another tequeno from the platter, this time very slowly pushing it in and out of his mouth using only one finger and his lips.

An embarrassing whine sounds from Koyama’s throat and Tegoshi smirks, then pushes the entire tequeno into his mouth with what looks like no strain at all. Koyama’s eyes are wide now, almost painfully, because there’s zero indication that Tegoshi has any kind of gag reflex—or any aversion to cylindrical things hitting the back of his throat.

Koyama had thought he was too drunk to get it up until this moment, instantly regretting his decision to wear tight skinny jeans instead of the beach shorts he packed. Tegoshi’s looking at him like he knows, the little tease, and Koyama has half a mind to drag him into the bathroom and see if he’ll follow through.

“I like how you’re looking at me,” Tegoshi says, his expression softer now, and Koyama hears warning bells in the back of his mind that sound suspiciously like Shige lecturing them both about enthusiastic sober consent.

“Have you drank any water tonight?” Koyama asks, desperately trying to distract himself as well as Tegoshi, and Tegoshi looks around their table like empty glasses would magically appear as proof if he tried hard enough.

Koyama motions for the server, hoping he’s not being too rude (”Seriously, Kei-chan, they expect you to snap and call out ‘niña’ here”), and a pretty woman with a big smile trots over to them.

“Two waters, please,” Koyama says in slurred Spanish.

“And the check,” Tegoshi adds, and even he way he rolls his tongue around all the syllables is erotic.

Koyama drains the entire glass of water when it’s presented in front of him, the cool liquid travelling down the inside of his chest and seeming to shoot out to the rest of his body through his nerves. His head isn’t nearly as woozy anymore, but he’s just as attracted to Tegoshi, who’s giving Koyama an amused look as he sips his own water.

At least the world is still right-side up, because Tegoshi doesn’t even glance at the check when it’s placed between them, and Koyama hopes that nobody’s paying too much attention to his crotch on their way out. It’s much cooler outside than earlier, and Koyama toys with the idea of exploring the city some more, maybe finding another place to hang out, anything that will put off being alone with Tegoshi for a little while longer.

“I’m suddenly really tired,” Tegoshi mumbles, slumping against Koyama who had paused in the middle of the sidewalk to think, and Koyama doesn’t have the heart to make him stay out any later. Begrudgingly, he guides them back to the apartment, cheering up at the realization that Tegoshi can’t tempt him if he’s passed out. Koyama knows that much is wrong without Shige’s influence, thank you very much.

Except that Tegoshi doesn’t pass out when they get behind closed doors, not even close. They’re barely in the foyer before Tegoshi’s on him, hands on his face luring him into a hot, deep kiss, and Koyama’s too disoriented to do anything except respond heatedly until Tegoshi’s hands drop to the fly of his jeans.

“Why?” Tegoshi mumbles, pulling back enough to peer at Koyama, who’s just as surprised as Tegoshi is at how firmly he had grabbed Tegoshi’s wrist to stop him, both of their breaths heaving from the sudden makeout. “Don’t you want me to show you I know what I know?”

The words don’t make sense and Koyama’s not even sure that’s actually what Tegoshi says, and that’s what has him gathering all of his strength (and willpower) to gently push Tegoshi’s back the full length of his arms. “You’re too drunk for this. We both are.”

Tegoshi whines and heaves an elaborate sigh, swaying a little on his heels now that he has to use his own balance to stand. “But I want to,” he protests, and now Koyama’s holding him back for the both of them. “I’ve always wanted to.”

Koyama’s heart drops into his stomach. “You have?”

“That’s why I was upset earlier,” Tegoshi huffs, using his entire weight to break Koyama’s restraint, and Koyama lets him. Tegoshi doesn’t do anymore than fall into Koyama’s arms though, embracing him more tightly than Koyama remembers feeling from this one before. “I’m upset because I love you and I can’t be with you.”

The warning bells get louder, and louder, until Koyama’s pulling Tegoshi down the hall by his arm and flinging him into the only bedroom. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” he says, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see Tegoshi’s neglected face sprawled out on the twin-sized bed. “And we’ll talk about this in the morning.”

Koyama has never before been so thankful to drink too much as he’s relieved from thinking anymore about this by passing out the instant he’s horizontal. The couch is an uncomfortable western-style futon, but Koyama’s slept across a row of folding chairs before, using a total of six jackets as pillows and blankets. This isn’t nearly as bad as that, even when he wakes up completely twisted with a monster headache that isn’t helped by the endless chatter of their neighbors. It seems that Chileans don't sleep either.

Thankfully, he’d had the foresight to kick off his skinny jeans before falling asleep, but he still feels gross from sleeping in the clothes he’d worn all day. He can fix that easily enough, though he’s finishing up his rather lengthy shower when he remembers that all the clothes he’d brought with them are folded neatly in the dresser in the room where he had banished Tegoshi last night.

For what Koyama benefits by drinking too much, he’s cursed with an impeccable memory the morning after. He remembers everything, and while he’s proud of himself for putting a stop to it before it went too far, he’s ashamed for the way he’d reacted to Tegoshi’s confession. Intoxicated or not, Tegoshi’s feelings are important, and Koyama had just shoved him away without any kind of reassurance because Koyama was fucked up over them.

Nothing to do but face the music, and Koyama psyches himself up for no reason as Tegoshi’s still curled up on top of the covers, shivering a little. He must have fallen asleep right after Koyama left him there, the now-wrinkly dress plastered to his sweaty skin and his hair all over the place.

Awkward tension aside, Koyama can’t stand to watch his youngest member tremble from whatever chills he has in the late summer morning. He looks around for an extra blanket and doesn’t see one, and while he could have taken ten seconds to walk back out into the main room and grab the one he didn’t use last night, it’s easier to flop down next to Tegoshi and wrap both arms around him, feeling him relax immediately.

After a few minutes of peaceful cuddling, Tegoshi stirs enough for Koyama to inwardly freak out again, but then he’s inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly and Koyama feels calm by proxy. “’Morning.”

“’Morning,” Koyama replies, sounding happier than he really is, or maybe he’s happier than he thinks he is. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Tegoshi answers, casually like there’s no reason for this to be weird, and something dark clouds Koyama’s mind at the possibility that Tegoshi might not have any conscious reason to think it’s weird.

“Do you remember?” Koyama starts, pausing as he tries to think of the right words. “What happened last night?”

“Yeah,” Tegoshi says again. “You pushed me away.”

Koyama frowns. “I’m sorry, Yuuya. I didn’t want either of us to do something we would regret.”

Tegoshi makes a hrmph sound that Koyama can’t decipher, but before Koyama can ask what it means, Tegoshi wriggles out of his grip and hops to his feet. Koyama hates him a little for never getting hangovers.

“Let’s go to the beach,” is all Tegoshi says. “I’ll shower now.”

He disappears, and Koyama takes the opportunity to get dressed and pack a smaller bag for their trip within a trip. He leaves room for Tegoshi to add whatever clothes he wants, less open to rummaging through Tegoshi’s suitcase than he would have been a few years ago. Or even last (Japan) summer.

For the first time since NEWS were sent on their mini vacation, Koyama wishes Shige’s phone was on just so he could get some advice about how to make things better with Tegoshi. He did the right thing by stopping them last night, that much he is certain. He doesn’t even think Tegoshi’s that bothered by it, probably only that he didn’t get any. The words he said after, though...

The Uber ride to the bus station is amiable enough, Tegoshi pointing out all of the different kinds of shops and making the driver pull over so he could take a picture of a store called Kato Sports. Koyama points out that there are a lot of ferreterías and wonders out loud if ferrets are that popular in Chile, which amuses both Tegoshi and their driver who gently inform him that ferretería means hardware store.

The person at the bus station ticket counter unenthusiastically sells them two tickets to Viña del Mar, and they have about an hour to kill before the bus leaves. They pick up sandwiches (which are strangely smothered with avocado) and a bag of these small dough pockets filled with cheese, people-watching in mildly comfortable silence until it’s time to get on the bus.

“Do you want to sit next to the window?” Koyama asks as they wait in line to have their tickets checked.

“I don’t care,” Tegoshi answers flatly, and Koyama frowns.

When they get to the front, Tegoshi has a short conversation with the driver in Spanish that has him laughing, a complete one-eighty from the attitude he had thirty seconds ago. Koyama’s salty that Tegoshi can be nice to a complete stranger and not him until Tegoshi directs that smiling face his way, relaying that the driver had said “me too!” after Tegoshi had confirmed they were going to Viña del Mar.

Koyama passive-aggressively takes the window seat and Tegoshi plops next to him, quickly figuring out how to lean his seat back and closing his eyes. It’s much more comfortable than an airplane seat, that’s for sure, though Koyama stays awake and alert as he watches the city fade into desert and back again.

He continues to stare out the window even when the tunnels interrupt the bright sun, and he only checks on Tegoshi a few times. The other idol is sleeping soundly, his face void of any worries this time, and Koyama tries not to feel too sad that Tegoshi’s not snuggling with him. It’s an odd feeling he hasn’t had before, because this one is usually open to affection and takes every opportunity to be close to Koyama. Usually.

After about an hour and a half of welcome disassociation, Koyama sees the ocean, and somehow it looks more sparkly on this side of the world. He wakes Tegoshi up before he thinks better of it, but Tegoshi just rests his chin on Koyama’s shoulder as they both look out at the ocean, and Koyama’s so grateful for physical contact that he keeps his mouth shut so Tegoshi won’t have a reason to move.

They’d splurged for an actual hotel room for the night, right on the beach in the center of everything. Koyama can’t wait to watch the sun set, though there are still a good number of hours before that happens. Tegoshi takes the opportunity to change and emerges in a dress fancier than yesterday’s, still sleeveless but with more layers and a purple ombre pattern.

“I like that one,” Koyama says, and Tegoshi smiles as he starts fussing with his hair in the mirror. “Aren’t you going swimming? It’ll get messed up anyway.”

“That doesn’t mean it can’t look good until then,” Tegoshi replies, and Koyama shakes his head as he stuffs his unbrushed hair under a snapback.

The beach is even more beautiful up front than from a distance, and there aren’t even that many other people there. Tegoshi mentions how it’s actually off season right now because school started a few weeks ago, so it’s mainly the locals enjoying their beach after it’s been overrun with tourists for the summer months.

They find a patch of sand a good distance away from the rising tide and lay out a pair of towels alongside each other. Tegoshi instantly starts to pull the dress over his head, and Koyama stares unabashedly as more and more of Tegoshi’s skin is exposed, until all that’s left is the small area his bathing suit covers.

Something presses his chin up and Tegoshi looks entirely too amused to catch him staring. “Something you want to tell me?” he asks just as casually as he’d said good morning, and Koyama has no idea what’s going on anymore.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, and Tegoshi’s amusement fades into a smile that Koyama can’t read.

“When you decide, let me know,” is all he says, then runs toward the ocean like an overly excited child.

Koyama waits for it, folding his arms in preparation for Tegoshi’s reaction to the water, and he’s not disappointed. Tegoshi squeals so loudly that he earns a soft ripple of laughter from the people around them, though that’s all the attention they spare him before returning to their own business.

Curious how cold it actually is, Koyama yanks his tank top over his head and makes his way to the water, letting the tide wash over his feet before he decides that’s enough.

“It’s freezing!”  he hollers to Tegoshi, who seems happier now that he’s gotten used to it, floating a short distance away with only his head showing above the surface. “I hope you don’t have your phone!”

“I didn’t bring it!” Tegoshi calls back, and Koyama thanks god for small favors. “Come out here!”

“No way!” Koyama replies, making an X with both arms. “You can catch hypothermia by yourself.”

Tegoshi’s laughter ripples with the ocean breeze, feeling more pleasant to Koyama’s ears that usual. Then a big wave comes out of nowhere and crashes right behind Tegoshi, and Koyama panics for ten entire seconds before it subsides and Tegoshi resurfaces much closer than he had been.

“That was an unexpected ride,” he jokes, tilting his head to get the water out of his ears as he jumps to his feet, a bit wobbly. “Kinda scary, actually.”

Koyama runs up and throws his arms around him, ignoring how cold Tegoshi’s skin is to the touch in favor of feeling for himself how alive he is. “You scared me too!”

“It’s okay, Kei-chan,” Tegoshi insists, and Koyama pulls back enough to look into soft eyes. “I’m okay.”

“I don’t know what I would have done...” Koyama trails off, wringing both of Tegoshi’s hands with his own in lieu of any other outlet for his strong feelings of relief.

“Don’t even think about it,” Tegoshi says firmly, and Koyama nods obediently. “It wasn’t even that big. It just surprised me.”

Koyama snorts. “That’s what she said.”

“That is definitely not what she said.” Tegoshi waggles his eyebrows, and Koyama would much rather make tasteless dick jokes that would piss off Shige than think about Tegoshi being carried out to sea. “That’s not what he said either.”

“Since when are there any ‘he’s?” Koyama asks. Now Tegoshi is swinging their arms together, the tide continuing to wash over their feet a little more angrily now, and it’s the most comfortable Koyama has been all day, enough to ask what’s at the front of his mind.

“Since I was old enough to have those kinds of feelings?” Tegoshi replies with a grin, then spins them both around twice. “Why are you so surprised? I don’t recognize gender in myself, so I don’t see it in others either.”

“I knew that, but...” Koyama searches his brain for better words and finally just blurts out, “I didn’t think you were into dick.”

Tegoshi laughs in his face, just like Koyama expects him to do, though his expression is softer when he lifts his eyes back up . “I can be into anything with the right person.”

“Is that so,” Koyama says slowly.

“It is.”

They’ve stopped moving now, the sun lower in the sky than before but still beating down on them, the tide rising with each wave. They’re not any further away from the other beach goers than they had been before, but the growing amount of water separating them makes it seem like it. All Koyama hears are the sounds of the ocean and all he sees is Tegoshi in front of him, hair sticking straight up from the last time he ran a hand through it and eyes full of everything he keeps locked inside them.

“I like how you’re looking at me,” Tegoshi says, just like he had last night, only this time they’re sober and outside and Koyama’s thinking with his heart, not his dick.

There are no warning bells, only crashing waves and pelicans in the distance, nothing to stop Koyama from grabbing both sides of Tegoshi’s face and capturing his mouth. Fingers bump his arms briefly before dropping to his waist, resting on his hips and gripping whatever flesh they can find as Tegoshi kisses back, tentatively at first but gradually meeting Koyama’s fervor, which seems to grow with each press of Tegoshi’s soft lips to his.

They don’t break apart until they nearly fall over, their balance compromised by other, more important brain functions, and Tegoshi’s only laughing for a second before Koyama joins in.

“Did we just have a clichéd kiss on a beach at sunset?” Tegoshi asks, still holding onto Koyama’s waist like Koyama will leave again if he lets go.

“It’s not sunset yet,” Koyama points out, and Tegoshi rolls his eyes. “Shall we go back to the room and get ready for dinner?”

“If we go back to the room, we’re not going to make to dinner until much, much later,” Tegoshi says firmly, and his words feel even more pointed with his hands on Koyama’s bare skin.

“How long have you wanted me?” Koyama asks carefully, not sure if he is ready for the answer.

“Too long,” is all Tegoshi says.

“Then you can wait another couple hours.”

Tegoshi’s epic whine follows him as Koyama breaks contact and heads back to their towels. A sharp “are you fucking with me?” follows him, and he abruptly spins around to find Tegoshi frowning at him, arms folded. “You push me away and say you’d regret it, and now you’re kissing me on the beach and hinting toward more. Make up your mind!”

“I would have regretted it if I took advantage of you while you were drunk!” Koyama yells back, uncaring about the people who are now within earshot. Probably none of them understand Japanese. “Enthusiastic sober consent, remember?”

“Pfft,” Tegoshi scoffs. “I wouldn’t have had half of my sexual experiences if not for loosened inhibitions. And I don’t think any of them took advantage of me.”

“You said you love me,” Koyama goes on, his voice coming out small, and he doesn’t care about that either. “That’s something I want to hear when you can stand up straight.”

“To be fair, I can’t stand up very straight right now.” Tegoshi stumbles as he struggles to balance his bare feet on the bumpy sand. “But I do love you. I always have. I thought you already knew that.”

“I didn’t know how you meant it,” Koyama mumbles.

“I don’t think there are different ways to love someone,” Tegoshi explains. “Attraction, sure, but love is pretty universal. I care about you, I want to be close to you, and I see you in my life forever. It’s simple.”

“If that’s all love is, then I love about twenty people,” Koyama says.

“That’s okay too.” Tegoshi shrugs. “I can share.”

Koyama must be giving him a hell of an incredulous look, because he laughs again and shoves his way past Koyama, reaching for his hand and guiding him the rest of the way to the towels. They pack up and trudge back to the hotel, washing off the sand and seawater in a much bigger shower that can easily fit them both, and to his credit Tegoshi doesn’t try for anything more than a quick kiss after he’s back in his purple ombre dress and Koyama tells him he looks pretty.

Tegoshi had read about a restaurant nearby that’s supposed to be really good, so they grab an Uber and head out. The driver is chatty and engages Tegoshi in a conversation that Koyama is confident he’s not following completely, though Koyama’s limited Spanish picks up that they’re talking about the bus.

“Supposedly, the local bus that goes along this main road takes the turns really fast and it feels like a roller coaster,” Tegoshi translates after they’re deposited in front of La Pica del Loro, which Google Translate tells Koyama means “the parrot’s pike,” whatever that is. “And he asked if you were my boyfriend.”

Koyama glances up from his phone to find Tegoshi giving him a smug face. “What did you tell him?”

“I said ‘not yet’,” Tegoshi replies, nudging Koyama with his elbow. “Depends on how our first date goes.”

Playing along, although he’s fairly positive they’re not actually playing, Koyama holds out his arm to escort Tegoshi into the restaurant. It’s a nice, homely place, so close to the beach that Koyama can smell the saltwater, and they choose a table outside under a large straw umbrella. Koyama pulls out Tegoshi’s chair for him like a gentleman, and Tegoshi humors him by flouncing into it.

Their server shocks them both by speaking Japanese to them, and they learn that she had spent a year in Osaka for school. Koyama’s so grateful to talk to someone other than Tegoshi that he engages her in a conversation before Tegoshi reminds him that they’re not her only customers. Laughing, she starts to describe the drink options to them, but Tegoshi waves to halt her.

“I’m not drinking tonight,” he tells her, then turns to Koyama’s undoubtedly surprised face. “I don’t care if you do, of course, but I don’t want to.”

“Then I won’t either,” Koyama says, offering a smile that Tegoshi emulates. “I don’t need it.”

Tegoshi actually looks sheepish for one of the first times in Koyama’s memory, glancing down at the fancy tablecloth before lifting his eyes back up to meet Koyama’s.

If their server thinks this exchange is odd at all, she doesn’t voice it, only suggests non-alcoholic drinks instead. They both pick something fruity, then she helps them decipher the menu and Koyama chooses the dish that has the most different kinds of fish in a bowl of Spanish rice.

Dinner is quiet, relaxed, and Koyama chuckles at the realization that if this really were a first date, it would be incredibly boring. Since it’s just Tegoshi, it’s fine; in fact, it would probably be weirder if he tried to make small talk.

“What’s so funny?” Tegoshi asks, smirking like he already knows.

“I’m a boring date,” Koyama relays, and Tegoshi laughs. “We’re not even talking.”

“We didn’t come here to talk,” Tegoshi says pointedly, and Koyama raises his eyebrows until Tegoshi adds, “We came here to eat!”

Neither one of them can finish their meals, boxing up the remainders to eat later when they’re hungry again. Koyama picks up the check once more with no protest, and they walk along a different section of beach that’s mostly cleared out of people. Tegoshi’s swinging his arms, much steadier in his sandals, and Koyama doesn’t think twice before grabbing one of his hands, continuing to swing them together as he interlaces their fingers.

Now, the sun is setting,” Koyama says facetiously, and the next thing he knows is Tegoshi in his mouth.

Those lips are just as soft as before, as well as the hand on Koyama’s jaw, and Koyama tilts his head to feel more. His arms slip around Tegoshi’s waist, pulling him closer as Tegoshi kisses him fiercely, leading despite being the smaller one pushed up on his toes. A hot tongue flicks it way past Koyama’s lips and Koyama feels it in his own toes, his fingers, even his ears as his entire body reacts more strongly than it had last night.

It feels like forever and not long enough when they part, Tegoshi rocking back on his heels while Koyama struggles to remember how to breathe.

Now, we’re a cliché,” Tegoshi whispers, followed by an airy laugh.

“I love you too,” Koyama says out loud, hours too late, maybe even years. It feels right and he has no remorse admitting it, because he means it the same way Tegoshi means it even if he’s not convinced that’s now everyone else means it.

“I know,” Tegoshi replies, flashing him a grin before returning to their handheld beach stroll. “Shall we take the bus back and experience the wild ride?”

“Is the wild ride on the bus or once we get back to the hotel?” Koyama asks seriously, and Tegoshi grins over at him.

“Maybe both.”

Koyama shivers, and not from the slight evening chill. Tegoshi leads him to the bus stop and it doesn’t take long for one to appear, Tegoshi footing the fare before Koyama can see if he has enough change for both of them. The seats aren’t nearly as cushy as the bus they’d taken to get here, but they serve the purpose and it’s easier for them to slide side to side as the driver takes the turns super fast as advertised.

On the first big curve, Tegoshi ends up in Koyama’s lap, and neither one of them makes a move to remove him. In fact, Tegoshi reaches down to grab onto both of Koyama’s hips, effectively holding him into place, and the turn after that has Koyama biting back a noise he doesn’t really want to make on a public bus.

“You’re so hard,” Tegoshi says, leaning back to press his words into Koyama’s neck, his voice unusually low and sultry. “Makes me wish we didn’t have to bother with lube and you could just go inside me right here.”

Yuuya,” Koyama whines, though his voice comes out more desperate than protesting.

“My dress would hide us,” Tegoshi goes on, and now he’s very obviously grinding against Koyama’s evident erection. Koyama’s shorts don’t make it nearly as uncomfortable as last night, the friction more pleasant than painful. “You could fuck me just like this, each sharp turn making it even better.”

“I’m going to come in my pants if you don’t stop,” Koyama hisses out, and surprisingly Tegoshi halts all movement. They’re still being thrown around by the erratic driving, but that’s not nearly as torturous as Tegoshi rubbing directly against him.

Damn, you’re hot when you’re turned on,” Tegoshi says, and Koyama chokes out a laugh. “We’re definitely doing this face to face so I can watch you fall apart all because of me.”

“Yes,” Koyama agrees, because he’ll do pretty much anything Tegoshi wants at this point.

Tegoshi scoots off of him then, and Koyama lets out a sigh of relief as he gathers himself enough to calm down. When he opens his eyes, Tegoshi’s watching him, his expression a cross between curiosity and amusement, and Koyama lets out another laugh before taking in a much-needed breath of air.

“I see the appeal of enthusiastic sober consent now,” Tegoshi says, and Koyama just shakes his head.

“How much longer?” is all he asks, and he’s answered in the form of another jerk of the wheel.

By the time they reach their stop, Koyama can function like a regular person, automatically slinging his arm around Tegoshi’s waist as they walk the short distance to the hotel. The sexual urgency has faded a bit, though he’s just as anxious to be close to Tegoshi again. Tegoshi hugs him in the elevator and Koyama doesn’t even flinch when there’s someone already on their floor waiting to go down.

They nod at each other with polite “holas” before continuing on their respective ways, Tegoshi’s stride growing faster until he’s power-walking to their door at the end of the hall. Koyama expects to be accosted the minute they step inside, just like last night, but Tegoshi heads right for the window that covers the entire seaside wall of their room and Koyama takes the opportunity to put away their leftovers in the mini fridge.

Tegoshi’s still staring out at the dark ocean when Koyama approaches him from behind, slipping his arms around Tegoshi’s waist in a loose back hug. Tegoshi leans into it, wedging his head right in the juncture between Koyama’s neck and shoulder, and Koyama tightens his embrace, inhaling sharply as a different kind of urge is satisfied. An emotional one.

Koyama noses Tegoshi’s head back up, ignoring the whine as he makes his way down to Tegoshi’s neck and presses his lips to the sensitive skin. The whine turns into a gasp and Tegoshi tilts his head the other way without being prodded, giving Koyama much more space to kiss and suck a little, just enough to feel Tegoshi twitch in his arms.

“Want me now?” Koyama asks, and Tegoshi nods so hard that he almost clocks Koyama in the face. “I’m going to need your enthusiastic consent, Yuuya.”

Tegoshi spins around in his hold and uses strength that Koyama didn’t know he had to push him the remaining distance to the bed and shove him down right onto his back. Before Koyama can react, Tegoshi’s on him, hovering just far enough to not make contact, his knees on either side of Koyama’s hips and his arms pinning down Koyama’s shoulders.

“How’s this for enthusiastic consent?” Tegoshi asks, his expression light but his eyes dark, and Koyama answers by pulling him down for a kiss.

This time Tegoshi’s tongue doesn’t wait for a slow buildup, immediately seeking out Koyama’s and bringing Koyama back to his arousal level on the bus without even touching him. Koyama’s not trying to hold back and slides his hands around Tegoshi’s waist to his back, then right up to the zipper of his dress.

“Can I take this off?” Koyama manages to ask between kisses, and Tegoshi breathes a soft “yeah.”

Koyama’s fingers fumble on the zipper and he has to remind himself not to rush, they’ve got all night, despite how Tegoshi’s kissing him like the world is going to end in three minutes. That’s just how Tegoshi is, as passionate about kissing as he is about making music, his fans, life in general. If Koyama had stopped to think about it before now, he would have anticipated Tegoshi to be a firecracker in bed, or maybe an entire fireworks display with an extended finale.

Tegoshi’s dress hits the floor along with Koyama’s shirt, followed by Koyama’s shorts and two pairs of boxer briefs. Tegoshi’s already hard and he makes a beautiful noise when their cocks bump as he lowers himself on top of Koyama. Koyama growls low in his throat and he can feel Tegoshi shiver in response, his hands growing rougher as they explore as much of Tegoshi’s skin as he can reach, from his shoulder blades down to the backs of his thighs.

“Please tell me you brought lube,” Koyama says, and he could smack himself for not thinking of this until now, despite Tegoshi making that comment on the bus.

“I did,” Tegoshi replies, huffing as he lifts himself up to hunt for his bag. “I wasn’t going to, because I never thought this would happen, but I’m glad I did, just in case.”

“You could have told me before now,” Koyama points out, because now that he’s thinking about it he doesn’t understand why Tegoshi waited so long to say something. “I’ve been out to you all for twelve years. I would have done this with you anytime.”

Tegoshi returns with a tube and a smile. “That’s nice to know.”

Koyama expects him to say more, but he fuses their mouths back together and pushes the tube into Koyama’s hands, spreading his legs wider in preparation. It’s easy to act and not think, Koyama’s mind going pleasantly blank as he blindly rubs the substance onto his fingers and slips them down between their bodies, pausing to feel the weight of Tegoshi’s cock on his slick palm before continuing past it.

A faint moan dies on Koyama’s tongue as he pushes one finger in, gently stretching him before inserting another. Tegoshi’s noises get louder, muffled by their kiss but just as insistent as the hips that start to push back against the intimate touch. Each gasp and whimper has Koyama prodding harder, faster, until Tegoshi reaches between them to take Koyama’s cock in his hand and Koyama’s making noises of his own.

Then Tegoshi tears his mouth away and presses his face into Koyama’s shoulder, breathing harshly onto the skin. “One more.”

Koyama follows orders and Tegoshi’s next moan is unrestrained, giving Koyama another one of those full-body surges that has his hips involuntarily snapping up into Tegoshi’s fist.

“Mm, you gonna do that inside me?” Tegoshi asks, his voice even lower than before, and Koyama nods. “Gonna make me bounce and take your cock over and over?”

“Yeah,” Koyama breathes out, breaking out into a fresh layer of sweat from Tegoshi’s filthy mouth. He’s no stranger to talking dirty but this is on another level, coupled with it being Tegoshi whose mouth these words are pouring out of, whose body he’s about to enter and thoroughly fill, over and over, the tight muscles around his fingers a prelude to how it will feel.

Koyama must get rougher because Tegoshi gets louder, pushing back like they’re already united and letting out a sharp moan when Koyama hits the right spot. Then his eyes flash open and Koyama would be knocked back by the determination in them if he wasn’t already lying down, the fire that has him pulling out his fingers just in time for Tegoshi to sit up and hold Koyama’s cock beneath him.

There’s no break, no hesitation before he’s sinking down, no chance for Koyama to catch his breath before it’s gone again. His own groan overwhelms him and Tegoshi makes a pleased noise, balancing himself with one hand behind him on Koyama’s bent knee and the other flat in the middle of Koyama’s chest as he starts to move.

“Yuuya,” Koyama gets out, and Tegoshi grunts an acknowledgement as Koyama struggles to keep his eyes open and focused on the beautiful sight of Tegoshi rocking back and forth, up and down, a vulgar rhythm he could never recreate on stage, though he might try.

“You feel good, Kei-chan,” Tegoshi says, sounding like he’s having a hard time speaking as well, and Koyama’s body comes alive at the praise, hands grabbing hips and thrusting up to meet Tegoshi’s efforts. “Oh, oh. Kei-chan. Fuck yes, give me more.”

Another growl pulls from Koyama’s throat and he doesn’t bother holding it back, feeling Tegoshi’s shiver from the inside this time and watching Tegoshi’s head fall back, hair plastered to his face and sweat shining on his forehead. “Yuuya...”

“Yes, Kei-chan?” Tegoshi asks sweetly, still a brat even in the middle of sex, and Koyama retaliates by detaching one of his hands from Tegoshi’s hips to curl around his cock. “Mm, you gonna make me come?”

“Yeah,” Koyama says again, content with his one-word answers, and he strokes Tegoshi in time with his thrusts, which increase as Tegoshi gets tighter around him. Koyama rubs his finger and thumb along Tegoshi’s tip, smearing around the precome until Tegoshi’s trembling on top of him, the one who’s falling apart instead of the other way around.

“Kei-chan, Kei-chan, Kei-chan!” and Tegoshi’s coming over Koyama’s hand with a sharp moan, like it had exploded from within him along with his orgasm, and Koyama instantly brings his hand to his mouth to taste. “Ah, do I taste good?”

Koyama nods and Tegoshi leans down to lure him into an open-mouthed kiss, tasting for himself, and Koyama whines at how Tegoshi has stilled on top of him. “Do you want me to stop?”

“You don’t have to,” Tegoshi answers, continuing to kiss all around Koyama’s face and lingering on his nose. “I’m done, though.”

“I don’t want to keep going if it doesn’t feel good for you...” Koyama trails off, ignoring how his body is not at all in agreement with his words.

“Or...” Tegoshi starts, pulling back enough to show Koyama his flushed, sated face. “I could do what I wanted to do last night.”

Koyama’s eyes widen as he considers where he currently is. “But it’s just been—”

“I know,” Tegoshi cuts him off, wincing as he lifts himself off of Koyama. “I don’t care.”

Tegoshi’s hand is around him the instant he’s pulled out, making him forget all about logistics and focusing on how Tegoshi’s lips are now dragging down his chest, pausing to tease just under his abdomen where his muscles flutter from the contact.

Then that tongue is on the head of his cock and he has to try really, really hard not to buck up into Tegoshi’s face. He leans up on his elbows, forcing his eyes to stay open yet again to watch Tegoshi lick all the way down to the base, staring up at Koyama through his damp bangs.

“Yuuya, oh my god,” Koyama gasps, like it’s his first blowjob all over again and he’s trying not to come before it’s even in their mouth. “Please, I’m already so close.”

“Since you asked nicely,” Tegoshi says, pressing the words into Koyama’s sensitive skin and smirking at the way Koyama jerks from the extra stimulation. Then he seems to have mercy on the older man and sucks him down, all the way on the first go, and Koyama feels like all of his nerves are trying to crawl out of his skin with need.

Yuuya.”

Tegoshi hums at hearing his name so desperately, clearly enjoying the way he’s reducing Koyama to moans and squirms, made even stronger by the vibrations of his voice. Finally, he starts to move, slowly pulling back enough to rub his lips along the tip before swallowing it all back down centimeter by excruciating centimeter.

“Yuuya, please.”

Koyama’s hips push up on their own, and Tegoshi makes a disapproving noise right in the slit as he pins Koyama down with both hands. Koyama doesn’t know when Tegoshi got stronger than him, but even with the added force of his adrenaline he can’t make Tegoshi budge.

“I am going to come on your face if you don’t suck it properly,” Koyama snaps, and Tegoshi looks mildly impressed as he actually listens.

Koyama almost cries with relief when Tegoshi takes him back into his mouth, lifting his head up and down at a faster pace than Koyama expected, and Koyama can’t stop both hands from sinking into Tegoshi’s hair, for something to hold onto moreso than guiding him.

“Oh, I’m gonna come, I’m coming,” Koyama gasps out, and he’s even more relieved when Tegoshi doesn’t stop, swallowing around the head on the downstroke. Koyama yanks his hair in a last-ditch effort to keep him from choking as his orgasm slams into him, knocking him so off balance that he feels like he might have fallen off the bed for a moment.

He’s still in the same spot when he can think again. Tegoshi has crawled up his torso to lie on top of him, rising and falling with his harsh breaths, and Koyama wraps weak arms around him, head falling back and eyes finally closing as the aftershocks continue to wash over him like the angry tide of the ocean.

“Are you gonna go right to sleep?” Tegoshi teases, and Koyama laughs. “I always thought you were the type to have more energy after sex.”

“The world won’t stop moving,” Koyama tries to explain, his coherence still trickling in as he slowly regains control of his limbs. “Are we having an earthquake?”

Tegoshi grins. “No, I’m just that good.”

This laugh seems to take the same path the pleasant feelings had, only his nerves are much calmer now and content to stay where they are. Everything feels good right now, even Tegoshi’s entire weight on top of him like he plans on sleeping that way.

“Come on,” he says to himself as well as Tegoshi, and they both whine. “I have to clean you up or you will feel gross.”

“I’m fine,” Tegoshi protests, but he reluctantly allows Koyama to manhandle him into the bathroom where he runs them a bath with the complimentary scented oils.

Tegoshi stops complaining once he’s mostly submerged, only his head sticking out like before in the ocean, and Koyama frowns as he remembers those horrible few seconds where Tegoshi was pulled under by the tidal wave. Luckily, Tegoshi doesn’t notice the mood shift, because Koyama definitely does not want to talk about it, focusing on cleaning Tegoshi as promised and maybe listening to his heartbeat when he has the opportunity to lay his head on Tegoshi’s chest.

“Are you gonna be weird about kissing me now?” Tegoshi asks, and Koyama makes a face as he remembers why that would be. “I didn’t see any mints on our pillows.”

“I still can’t believe you did that,” Koyama says with a shudder.

“It’s no different than eating ass,” Tegoshi tells him, and Koyama lifts his head up to stare at him in disbelief. “You’re such a prude, Kei-chan.”

I’m a prude?” Koyama repeats. “I’ve been eating ass for longer than you’ve been legal, brat.”

“Don’t brag unless you’re gonna prove it,” Tegoshi shoots back, and Koyama weighs his extreme level of exhaustion against the image of Tegoshi writhing and moaning his name while Koyama gets payback for the literal cocktease he’d just received.

“Maybe next time,” Koyama inevitably decides, and Tegoshi’s lack of argument shows how tired he is too. “And I think it’s okay to kiss now. You washed out your mouth with my come.”

Tegoshi laughs at that as he leans down to nose out Koyama’s lips. “That’s dirty. I like it.”

He flicks his tongue a little too much for post-coital, but it must have been on purpose because he calms down after a few seconds and kisses Koyama much more softly. It’s a kiss that has Koyama wondering why they haven’t been doing this for years, why it took until they were in their thirties in another country for them to come together like this.

He doesn’t voice any of this, just puts it all in his reciprocation, and when they’re dried off and snuggled in the big, cushy bed together, the waves crashing on the shore outside their window still audible in the silence of their slumber, Koyama decides he ought to focus more on the present than the past.

They laze around in the morning, too worn out to do much of anything other than grab some breakfast and check out the souvenir shops. On the bus back to Santiago, Tegoshi takes the window seat and Koyama’s the one who curls up for a nap, their fingers laced together between them. Their flight doesn’t leave until the evening, so they loiter around the street vendors and Koyama has to pry Tegoshi away from the “magic cakes” because “little old ladies wouldn’t sell me drugs, Kei-chan!”

Usually, Koyama would feel sad to leave, to reach the end of his vacation and head back home to his normal life, but the best part of it is coming back with him. They could have gone anywhere and the outcome would have been the same; they just happened to find each other in Chile. Even if they don’t stay this close for that long, the real world inevitably blocking any attempt they could make at continuing their off-season summer love, they will always have the memories, the roller coaster of emotions as well as the literal roller coaster bus ride along the shore.

Shige picks them up at the airport, not out of any courtesy of his own but because they’re going straight to work, where both Koyama and Tegoshi make a big production out of presenting him with the “no means no” sweatshirt (which he loves and immediately puts on, much to the female staff members' delight) and sharing their newfound mutual appreciation of enthusiastic sober consent.

“I don’t want to know,” Shige tells them firmly.

“Tego was invited to the feminist march,” Koyama reports, and Tegoshi nods like he needed to cosign the statement.

Shige laughs. “Good thing it wasn’t happening while you were there. Those Chilean women would have eaten you both alive.”

While Koyama’s wondering how Shige knows anything about Chilean women, Massu glances up from where he’d been ignoring their entire conversation.

“Did you feel the earthquake?” he asks conversationally, and Koyama almost laughs at what Massu doesn’t know he’s implying. “According to the news, there was one the night before last, around 10pm Chilean time.”

Koyama gapes at Tegoshi, who actually looks surprised. “There really was an earthquake!”

“I’m still that good,” Tegoshi mutters.

“I don’t want to know,” Shige hisses.

“I definitely felt it,” Koyama says, exchanging a glance with Tegoshi that has him burning up in his winter clothes, and Massu just shakes his head and goes back to ignoring them.