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Hard wired

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To say Shouta wasn't one to enjoy parties was an understatement. The understatement of the year, and said year was about to come to an end. It was December 31st, this was a New Year's Eve party and Shouta had been dragged there by his best friend.

Somehow, ten minutes after they had arrived, Oboro had disappeared in the crowd and Shouta hadn't seen him again. He had searched, at first, he had looked around the crowd, he had gone to the kitchen that was currently used as a bar, dozens of bottles of different types of alcohol scattered all around. He had checked the bathroom, the bedrooms too, only to be yelled at when he stumbled on something he would have rather not seen. He couldn't find Oboro. And now, a couple of hours later, Shouta had accepted his fate.

He wasn’t going to see Oboro again before the end of the night and even then, Shouta wasn’t sure he’d see his friend again. They had decided they’d go home on their own, if it happened, that they’d call a taxi. They had taken the bus to come here, because parking in this neighborhood wasn’t easy, this was the middle of the city and it was busy as hell tonight, with the New Year parade going on, thousands of people had gathered along the main street which this building overlooked. The flat where the party happened wasn’t at the top of the building, but it wasn’t at the bottom either, giving the few curious party-goers a nice view of the parade if they wanted to watch it and, to the people down in the streets, glimpses of what might happen here too. It was obvious enough there was a party going on, from the street, seeing the flashing lights that had been installed around the flat. The music, as loud as it was, would be drowned by the parade’s, most likely.

Taking a taxi home also was a safer option, considering. Shouta hadn’t planned on drinking his brain out, it wasn’t something that he did, he didn’t always enjoy the taste of alcohol but Oboro had planned to go home drunk. And it sure wouldn’t allow him to drive. He had stated he might stay here until his system had cleared enough for him to go home to their shared flat. Had said this place’s owner wouldn’t care, and would rather have a few people stay back than know one of his guests would have caused an accident while drunk driving. It was responsible, in a way, Shouta had to admit.

Said owner wasn’t around, though, or so Oboro had said upon their arrival. Oboro had talked about the guy a few times during the week, excited he had been invited to the party and he hadn’t hesitated a second to ask Shouta to be his plus one, as the invitation allowed. Apparently, Oboro and this guy had been friends for a while, though Shouta had never met said guy, not even once and Oboro had only mentioned him a couple of times before. Oboro had explained that he and Hizashi used to be neighbors and best friends, before Hizashi had moved away to another city. They had remained friends, through letters, first, then online, chatting occasionally and talking on the phone from time to time. Oboro had shown a picture, from when they had been seven and Shouta had merely glanced at it. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about his best friend’s friend, but he wasn’t sure he should make a big deal out of it, seeing that Oboro kept saying they probably weren’t going to meet again, as Hizashi kept moving from one country to the other.

He was on a trip around the world, or so Oboro had said, and would most likely not come back home before long. That was until he received the invitation to Hizashi’s party, at least, and, despite not having seen each other in years, Oboro had sent his friend a text telling him he’d obviously come and would bring Shouta with him.

It was all Shouta knew about Hizashi. He had travelled the world and Oboro liked him a lot.

The music was loud, enough to deafen Shouta’s ears, no matter how far away he stood from the speakers. Part of him wanted to ask someone, anyone to turn it down, while the other part kept telling him to just accept his fate, again, for tonight. He never was one to enjoy parties, nor did he like loud music and how many people there currently were around him. Hell, he would have probably said no, had he known how big the party would be, but it was too late already. Midnight was coming slowly, minute by minute, Oboro was nowhere to be seen, and Shouta, if he had to be honest, had nothing better to do tonight. He could have gone home, but he wasn’t sure he would have felt better, to sit in their shared flat and wait for midnight to come, only to look around and realize how lonely he was.

Not that he didn’t feel lonely, at the moment, surrounded with so many faceless people but it was different. The noise helped shut some of his thoughts down.

Shouta wasn’t sure how much he had drank. He wasn’t a heavy drinker, and couldn’t exactly hold his alcohol either, hence why he drank beer rather than anything stronger that might had knocked him out on the spot but he was feeling tipsy still, the tip of his fingers tingling a little and small beads of sweat trickling down his temples. Or maybe that came from how hot it was in here, despite the negative temperatures outside, with so many people dancing and yelling and partying, but Shouta didn’t think about it long enough to figure it out. Also, the nearby window was providing him with much needed cold, when he’d just lean his head against it and wait for the glass to cool his forehead. Also, his chair was quite comfortable and he was far enough from people that he could peacefully read on his phone.

The world around him faded, eventually. Not much, not with how loud the music and the people were, but it all turned into some endless white noise, one Shouta could more easily ignore as he was focused on the article he was reading. He had found it earlier, before Oboro had dragged him out, while he had been waiting for his friend to finish getting ready. Oboro had made sure he’d look good, saying he wanted to make a good impression on Hizashi after all these years, while Shouta was merely wearing some basic jeans with his boots, a comfortable sweater and a thick scarf that he had grabbed when he had noticed how cold it’d be outside. Said scarf now sat in his lap, to make the atmosphere more breathable and he was also wondering if he shouldn’t get rid of the sweater, feeling like the warmth would be more bearable if he only wore a shirt but it didn’t matter much in the end, as he only had to lean his head to the side so the coolness of the window would help him get his own temperature down. It was all good. And the article was interesting too.

“Yo, you alright there dude ?”

Shouta almost didn’t hear the question. The voice had been loud, maybe louder than the music because of how close it had been, but Shouta was focused and tended to block out a lot, when it was the case. His eyes left his screen, only to be taken aback with just how close the face whose voice belonged to was and he shifted back in his seat uncomfortably.

“What ?”

“I was asking if you’re alright, yo,” the man repeated, louder if it were any possible. Only then did Shouta notice the hands on his shoulders, how the man was kneeling in front of him, his expression showing concern. He blinked, looked around, wondering if he was missing something.

“I’m good,” He said, probably not loud enough to be heard with the music, though the man breathed out in relief still.

“Good,” The man repeated. He shook his head. “You looked like you were turned into a stone statue for a while, I thought I would have to call an ambulance or something.”

Shouta frowned. The stranger’s hands still were on his shoulders, squeezing lightly through his sweater. Shouta half wanted to shrug the touch off, but he didn’t.

“I was reading.”

The man frowned. He looked down at his phone, then up at his eyes again. Then he laughed like it was the funniest thing he had ever heard.

Shouta used his hysteria to detail him a little. Long blond hair cascading on his shoulders, all the way down his back, leather pants, green eyes, white loose shirt, ridiculous moustache, tattoos all over his arms. He sure fitted here a lot more than Shouta did.

“Ya know what, dude, I’m gonna stay here with you to make sure you’re alright,” the blond stated, finally letting go of his shoulders and sitting down right on the floor despite the nearby unoccupied seat. “You can call me Mic.”

“Alright,” was all Shouta said. Then he focused on his article again.

It didn’t last long, really. Not that Shouta was distracted but Mic was fidgeting.

“You won’t even tell me what’s your name ?”

“What for ?”

Mic snorted. “Get to know each other ?”

Shouta looked up. He looked up, then threw a circular look around the room, with the party still going strong everywhere, then he focused on Mic again. “I’m sure there are many other people here that you can talk to.”

Mic tilted his head to the side, a smirk on the lips. “None of them is reading in the middle of the biggest party of the year.”

Shouta was pretty sure he had seen that girl read on her phone earlier, though, seeing how she had been crying, it probably hadn’t been an article or a book, more like a break up text. He didn’t answer.

“Though I’d understand if you’d rather be alone, just say the word. But I’m curious now. Why come if you’re just reading.”

“I’m drinking too,” Shouta pointed out, glancing at the can he had carefully balanced on the chair’s armrest. It had been empty for a long time now and he couldn’t be bothered to go get another can.

“How long has it been empty ?” Mic asked, as if reading his thoughts. Shouta shrugged. “Alright, dude, let me prepare you a cocktail, right ? I promise I won’t add anything shaddy to it.”

“Doesn’t sound shaddy at all.”

Mic laughed, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he got up, grabbed the can to dispose of it, most likely and disappeared among the crowd. These leather pants were too tight and showed too much. Not that Shouta had looked.

When Mic returned, Shouta hadn’t moved, though he was reading the next article he had saved up on his phone now. He did look up, when a pretty glass filled with a colorful liquid appeared between his eyes and his screen, he frowned, as Mic was standing there, waiting.

“Nothing shaddy, I swear !”

The glass was simple, though there was a little paper umbrella sticking out of it, along with a white straw and colored sugar around the rim. As for the drink, it was dust pink and Shouta had no idea what it might be. He accepted the drink stil, though, mostly out of politeness. Then he noticed Mic had made himself the same cocktail, and he blinked, when the blond grabbed the nearby empty chair, this time, dragged it right in front of him, his back to the crowd and he sat there. He was close, enough that he had to keep his knees apart, enclosing Shouta’s, slouched but relaxed.

“Are you a bartender ?”

Mic snorted, his lips wrapping around his own straw, his eyes focused on him, amused. “No. But I can’t let you get drunk on cheap beer.”

“Not here to get drunk,” Shouta stated. He tasted the cocktail, only half a mouthful. It wasn’t too bad.

“Why are you here then ? You’re not getting drunk, you’re not partying ..”

“Reading, obviously.”

Mic tilted his head to the side. “You like the drink ?”

“It’s alright.”

Shouta wasn’t sure why the man seemed so adamant to talk with him. Surely, there were a ton of people here that’d love to be in Mic’s company, he looked like the kind of person who knew how to party after all. It showed. He was comfortable here, and yet, he was talking to him. Shouta wasn’t sure he could believe it was only to keep an eye on him just because he had been so entranced with his reading that Mic had worried about his health.

There had to be something else. Could he be certain that nothing had been added to his drink ? Then again, he had already tried it.

“You don’t have to keep an eye on me, I’m fine,” Shouta said, shrugging and glancing down at his phone again. “I came because my friend asked me. He’s somewhere around here, probably.”

“Why isn’t he with you ?” Mic asked, as if shocked with the idea. Shouta shrugged.

“He knows I’m not much of a party-goer.”

“Then why invite you ?”

Shouta pinched his lips and he didn’t answer. Mic deflated a little, ran his hand through his hair.

“One more reason why I should stay around ya, dude,” he said, forcing a smile. “Your friend was rude to leave you on your own like that so I’m gonna keep you company.”

“Whatever.”

Shouta went back to his reading, sipping at his drink through the straw from time to time. Which was probably rude, seeing how Mic seemed to be having the best intentions, if his self-given mission to keep him company was any hint of it. But Mic seemed to be talkative and Shouta could barely hear him as he was trying to talk over the music and he didn’t want to make the effort himself to speak louder. Not that Mic had looked like he had troubles understanding him, which was weird because Shouta could barely hear his own voice in the cacophony. But he didn’t care enough to figure it out.

The drink was fine, Shouta decided after a moment. It was fine and the sweetness of it was making the alcohol feel way subtler. Also, it didn’t seem like it had been spiked, which Shouta was thankful for, as he didn’t want to start the new year like that.

Mic remained where he sat, despite his answer. His knees sometimes touched his, as his leg was bouncing a little, he kept fidgeting and shifting and Shouta thought he could hear him hum too. But he ignored the blond. The company wasn’t unwanted as per say, Shouta would have had it easy to just stand, step over the blond’s leg and find himself another spot, but he wasn’t sure why Mic seemed to care in the first place. Also, he didn’t consider it rude that Oboro had disappeared among the crowd. Oboro was here to have fun and meet with his friend again and Shouta didn’t want him to hold for his sake. For all he knew, he and Hizashi were locked somewhere in the flat, catching up the years, or had completely ditched the whole party, for the same reason. He was fine to be sitting there on his own, reading and relaxing. He could relax, after all, once his surroundings blurred.

“I can make you another !”

His glass was just empty, the ridiculous noise one would make while trying to suck through a straw into an empty glass unheard but obvious enough to Shouta. He wasn’t feeling drugged, which was good and Mic was focused on him.

“A cocktail, I mean. Either the same or another, you just tell me.”

Mixing sure was a bad idea. “Another,” Shouta answered still, unsure why he did in the first place. It’d only give Mic the hint that he was alright with his presence. Which he was, in a way, as long as Mic left him to his reading.

“I’ll be right back !”

Mic disappeared again, with both their glasses. Shouta rubbed his face. That guy was weird but at least, he wasn’t a jerk.

It didn’t take Mic long to come back, with different glasses. Bigger ones, filled with a red-orange liquid. A new straw, the same paper umbrellas. He handed Shouta his, then sat back in his chair, slouched more like, his knees carefully spread around Shouta’s.

“So what are you reading ?”

Shouta glanced down at his phone. “An article one of my former teachers published.”

“Is it interesting ?”

He shrugged. Then he looked up. “Do you even hear me over the music ?”

“I sure don’t,” Mic snorted, casually looking to the side as he was pushing his hair behind his ear, revealing the hearing-aid he was wearing. “I also barely hear the music. I turned them off two hours ago.”

“Are you reading my lips ?”

“Trying to,” was the answer, as Mic was watching him again. “Not easy with little light but I make do.”

Shouta placed his lips around the straw, and had a sip. It was way sweeter and fruity than the previous one, but he could also taste the alcohol stronger.

“This one’s better.”

“Yeah, I like it better too. I know a few more that you might enjoy, though.”

Shouta rolled his eyes. “And you’re not a bartender.”

“I went to many parties,” Mic answered with a crooked smile, leaning his head on his hand, his elbow on the armrest. “It gets boring to get drunk on the same drinks over and over again.”

Shouta didn’t answer, he wouldn’t know.

“If I invite you to come dance with me, you’re gonna say no, right ?”

The answer probably was written all over his face, because Mic laughed, loud enough that he’d try to hide it under his hand and Shouta cleared his throat.

“I wouldn’t even know what to do,” he admitted, unsure why to begin with. He didn’t have to justify himself, did he ?

“I could show you,” Mic answered with a shrug. “It’s not that hard.”

“You’re going to have to make me drink a lot more.”

Mic’s smile widened, as if he was accepting a challenge. Shouta cursed under his breath to have even answered.

“If you’re scared someone might laugh at you, they’re all too shitfaced already to notice.”

“You’re not,” Shouta answered wittily. Mic laughed.

“Come on, dude, give it a try !”

Shouta glanced at the crowd, grimacing at a few things he noticed there, then back at Mic.

“I bring you back right here if you’re really not feeling it! I promise !”

Shouta huffed, but he sighed, eventually, wondering why he wasn’t flatly refusing, then wondering how he had already gone through half the second cocktail Mic had prepared for him, and, if he had been tipsy before, he now was getting a bit more than that. Maybe it was why he stood, in the end, a bit wobbly on his feet. Maybe he was drunk enough for it, actually and he didn’t dare look up at Mic’s face, knowing fully that he’d look triumphant. He couldn’t know for sure, he didn’t know the guy but it was what he imagined anyways.

“Maybe you should lose the sweater. It is hot as fuck in there.”

Shouta frowned, and he did look at Mic, only to realize, now that they both were standing, that they were almost the same size. Funny, he would have thought Mic way taller than him.

“I’m just saying !” Mic stated defensively, holding both hands up. “I’m so regretting the leather pants already !”

Shouta almost said that he shouldn’t, because he rocked them perfectly. Almost.

“Is there any safe place where I can leave it though …”

“Yup, leave it to me !”

Taking his sweater off felt kind of difficult, and it made Shouta wonder how bad his dancing was doing to be, if he already had troubles undressing. He was about to point it out, but Mic was already gone, folding the sweater carefully and, somehow, the scarf Shouta had forgotten in his lap as well. He disappeared among the crowd, again. Shouta remained where he stood.

A wave of self-consciousness was slowly getting the best of him, as he was standing there, in his dark shirt, wondering how easily Mic had convinced him to try to dance with him. Shouta didn’t dance. He didn’t! And he probably hadn’t done it since he was a kid ! He didn’t know how, he didn’t have the coordination, nor the balance. He didn’t have a sense of rhythm.

Shouta was about to sit back down, when Mic appeared in front of him again. He was smiling, wide and carefree and for an instant, it was all Shouta could see. Then, Mic grabbed his hand, pulled him closer to the center of the makeshift dance floor. He paused for a second, his free hand messing with his hearing aids and his smile widened.

“I love this song !”

Shouta didn’t know the song and he couldn’t have recognized it, with how loud it was, the speakers sizzling a little.

Mic didn’t wait another second, throwing his hair back with one precise, accustomed jerk of his head. He started dancing, moving on the beats of the music, his hand still around his. His eyes were closed, he was obviously comfortable with it all, used to it, the complete opposite of Shouta, especially at that moment and Shouta looked around them, wondering if people were going to notice that Mic was dancing with a guy who was just standing there, waiting. They didn’t. Especially not the couple, right next to them, who was grinding into each other with such purpose that Shouta wondered if they even realized that they weren’t on their own.

He focused on Mic again quickly enough, looking down at the hand still wrapped around his, in a light hold, light enough that Shouta would have been able to pull back anytime and he noticed the painted nails. Mic’s nails were purple and green and orange too. It was curious.

“I need another drink.”

Mic didn’t hear him. It was no wonder, even with how Mic had obviously turned his aids back on. Shouta hadn’t tried talking over the music, he wasn’t sure he had the lung capacity to do anything like this, unlike Mic. So, he softly tugged on Mic’s hand, which had Mic open his eyes again and he repeated his words.

Mic’s reaction was immediate. He smiled, nodding quickly, and he pulled him towards the kitchen.

Here, the music wasn’t as loud, and there weren’t many people around either. Mic walked in as if he belonged, waltzing around the central island easily, he grabbed glasses from the cabinet over the sink, set them on the countertop, among the endless piles of paper goblets and bottles. Weird.

“Sweet or strong ?”

Mic’s voice was rough, surely from having to scream over the music but it was sweet too, now that Shouta could hear it a bit better.

“Both.”

Mic snorted. “On the way !”

Mic wasn’t a bartender, but he looked like one, as he was preparing the cocktails for the two of them. It was taking time, so Shouta leaned against the countertop. Watching Mic prepare their drinks was a bit mesmerizing. Or maybe he was just too tired.

“Will I have the chance to dance with you tonight, or is it a wasted effort ?”

Shouta pinched his lips. “I wouldn’t say it’s a ‘chance’,” he muttered. It made Mic snort. “It’s just not my thing.”

“I really wanna dance with you, though.”

Shouta blinked. “Why,” he deadpanned.

“You’re hot as fuck.”

There was a silence that stretched for so long that Shouta wondered if he shouldn’t just go back to his chair now. All he could hear, beside the music, was Mic’s shaker when he’d shake it around, as if he hadn’t just told him that he was hot, as if it wasn’t the most straightforward compliment anyone had ever given him before. It must have reached Mic, though, after a minute of two of not talking because he looked up, green eyes peering into him, even if softly, a sweet smile on the lips.

“I take it I’m not your type ?”

Shouta rubbed his face. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“I sure just did,” Mic laughed, shrugging.

“So you didn’t come check on me because I looked like a statue ?” Shouta rolled his eyes.

“Well I needed an excuse, didn’t I ?” Mic winked, as he poured the blue liquid of the cocktail into their glasses. “I was worried though, you looked so engrossed. And I still don’t understand why you’re here if you hate parties and dancing.”

“I don’t hate it,” Shouta huffed, to which Mic answered with a pointed look. “I feel neutral is all, and it’s not my thing.”

“Why come in the first place then ?”

“Told you I was with a friend.”

Mic rolled his eyes. “A friend who ditched you,” he reminded, walking to Shouta, handing him his glass.

“He asked me to come and I did, it doesn’t mean he has to watch over me all night,” Shouta huffed.

“Still doesn’t make sense,” Mic countered. “Why come ?”

Shouta sighed. He was tired. “I didn’t want to stay at home on my own tonight.”

It didn’t take even a second for the words to sink in, and Mic hummed, leaning beside him. Close. Enough that their arms brushed.

“You didn’t answer. I’m not your type ?”

“I sure am not yours.”

He looked at the tattoos and the leather pants. The painted nails and was it piercings he could glimpse through Mic’s shirt as the fabric of his shirt clung to his skin ?

“Have I not just stated that I think you’re hot as fuck ?” Mic laughed, turning his head to him, green eyes darkened. “I’m into broody hotties, babe, and you hit all the right buttons.”

It was Shouta’s turn to snort, and Mic laughed, lightly. Yes, maybe that described him nicely, though he wasn’t sure about the “hotty” part. Mic was funny, though. Funny and straightforward and maybe a little hot too. Maybe Shouta was getting a bit drunk as well now, Mic had made that cocktail strong, alright. And it was the third he was drinking, and he had several beers beforehand.

“You just have to let go,” Mic said, after a moment, shrugging one shoulder and drinking his cocktail. “Just close your eyes, feel the music and move. It’s all it takes and you might even like it.”

“Easier said than done,” Shouta pointed out.

“Yeah, no, I know it’s exactly that,” Mic shook his head. “I used to be such a nerd, until I graduated. Then I decided to just .. relax and enjoy myself. Took a few tries but I ended up loving going to parties and dancing until my feet are too sore. It’s liberating, really and it feels good to just let go of everything, once in a while.”

“Again, easier said than done.”

“I’ll show you, once you’ve finished drinking that and the next.”

Shouta rolled his eyes. Mic bumped their shoulders. “Come on, hotty, it’ll be fun.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“It’s not like you gave me your name, babe,” Mic smirked.

Shouta sighed. “Don’t call me that either. I’m Shouta.”

Mic’s smile turned softer. “Alright, Shouta,” he said with a nod. “Drink up.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk ?”

“I’ll take full responsibility for you if you’re too shitfaced to function,” Mic stated seriously. The blond wasn’t looking as affected as Shouta was with the drinks, but he probably was way more used to it and could hold it better than Shouta. It’d make sense. Mic was actually able to mix cocktails afterall and Shouta had seen him add a little more alcohol, whatever it had been, to his own drink before he had been satisfied with it.

His glass was already almost empty, so Shouta drank the last of it and he sighed, at the burn of the alcohol down his throat, grimaced a little and put the glass down on the counter in a slight thumb. Mic followed suit.

“How do you feel ?”

“Might not stomach another just yet,” Shouta admitted. He had chained the three drinks quickly, to his standards and his stomach was protesting a little. Mic didn’t seem disappointed with the fact, he merely grabbed the nearest bag of chips, offered them to him.

“Eat, it helps.”

“If you’re planning on getting me drunk so we fuck, know that I turn completly useless when I’m too intoxicated,” Shouta mumbled, grabbing the bag and starting to munch on the chips. “And I might even throw up on you.”

“Noted,” Mic nodded. He was standing in front of him now. Close. “I wouldn’t dare touch you unless you sober up a little beforehand. I’m not into that. Also, it wouldn’t be fun.”

Shouta shrugged. He stuffed himself with more chips.

He could feel it now, though. The effect the alcohol had on his system, how his muscles were untensing, how he was relaxing where he stood. The world seemed to be spinning around him a little, and the tingle he had felt at the tip of his fingers earlier was getting more intense, more like white noise through his nerves but he didn’t mind much. As for his brain, he was aware that it was getting slower, mushy and there wasn’t much he could focus on that wasn’t Mic, like he was wearing blinkers like he was some race horse. It wasn’t too bad, though it wasn’t what he had originally planned for the evening. Reading that article could wait.

“Now, what about that dance ?”

Shouta looked up at the blond, at his teasing smile, noticed how Mic was leaning a bit closer, his hand grabbing the counter near his hip. He smelled good, fruity.

“You’re not going to give up, are you ?”

“You’re the hottest guy around tonight, you’re single and you’re hard to get,” Mic listed, holding up his fingers. Then he smiled. “It’s not like I can resist.”

“Who said I was single ?”

Mic blinked, looking around as if searching for an angry boyfriend who’d be glaring at them.

“Well if you aren’t, I’ll just find the second hottest guy around and hit on him instead,” he said with a slight shrug. “I’m into a lot of things but cheating and helping someone cheat aren’t ones.”

Mic was looking so serious now. Too serious. Shouta shook his head.

“I’m not .. I’m single,” he said, rubbing his cheek. “But I don’t like when people assume.”

“Noted, babe,” Mic breathed out, and he held up his free hand. “Come on, let’s go have some fun.”

Shouta held back a sigh but he grabbed Mic’s hand anyways and let himself be led back into the crowd, his now lazy brain assaulted with the music. Mic’s hand around his was soft, just like before, allowing him to pull back whenever he liked. Shouta, at this point, wasn’t sure why he kept following Mic around, but the man seemed so adamant for him to enjoy himself. It was weird. But Mic kept saying he was hot, and even if Shouta had made it clear that hooking up in his current state might result in a disaster, Mic didn’t seem to care. Like having a one night stand wasn’t his ultimate goal. He hadn’t rejected the idea all at once so, surely, Mic wouldn’t mind it happening, but getting into his pants wasn’t the only thing he had in mind.

The hand that settled on his hip startled Shouta out of his thoughts and, for an instant, Shouta thought that maybe he had been wrong about it, that Mic’s idea really was to fuck with him at some point of the party. But he felt the way Mic pulled on his shirt so he wouldn’t be touching skin, how he tilted his head to the side, silently asking him if he was comfortable with that, an uncertain air on the face, and his smile was soft when Shouta gave him a soft nod.

Mic made him dance.

It wasn’t much at first. Mic hadn’t placed his hand on his hip just to be touching him, but was actually using it to help him move along the music’s rhythm, following the hard beat, helping him grasp it. Shouta was feeling stiff, despite how relaxed he had been earlier, like his body was robotic and he didn’t have enough joints and articulations to be graceful enough, but Mic didn’t seem to mind, as he continued to make him move. He didn’t even look like he was making fun of him, looking at him in the eyes easily.

“Close your eyes !” Mic leaned forward, near his ear, to tell him so. “Close your eyes and relax.”

Shouta did. Trusting. He looked at Mic for a second longer, then he closed his eyes, taking a big breath in as if he was going underwater and for an instant, nothing changed. Hell, for an instant, the same wave of self-consciousness as before threatened to rush over him again and, in the anxiety, he grabbed the first thing he could touch, which maybe was Mic’s shoulder. He did feel Mic step closer, almost into his personal space, almost too close, but just at the edge of what Shouta was able to handle at the moment. But, as nothing more happened and Mic continued to help him follow the beat, Shouta managed to relax once more.

The grip he had on the man’s shirt lessened, until he could stretch his fingers and rest them on Mic’s shoulder, and he didn’t resist when Mic grabbed his second hand so he’d place it on the opposite shoulder. Mic’s hand then settled on the other side of his hips and just like that, they were dancing.

“See,” Mic was saying, yelling over the music. “You’re doing so good, babe. We could do that all night long.”

Shouta wasn’t sure he could, he was already feeling so tired and he wasn’t planning on staying here for too long. He had thought of going home an hour or so after midnight. Then, if Oboro asked, he’d be able to say that he had stayed long enough. Oboro would be worried, if he knew Shouta had gone home early. He hadn’t hesitated to invite him because he knew exactly what Shouta’s night would have been, had he stayed at home.

But, Shouta hadn’t planned on ever dancing either, and yet, here he was. Dancing, if him shifting his hips right and left could be considered to be dancing, with Mic. Not drunk but not sober either and he was enjoying himself, even if a little. It was too hot, though. Way too hot.

The music changed, morphing from one song to the other and he felt Mic tense under his fingers. The beat was slower, the music was softer, even if just as loud and Shouta, not knowing why, opened his eyes again.

Mic was close. He was and he was watching him so attentively, like he was scared Shouta might freak out or something. He smiled, when he realized Shouta was looking back at him and Shouta glanced at that big smile, just in time to see the tip of Mic’s tongue trapped between his teeth. He looked up again.

“You don’t like that song ?”

Mic looked confused for a split second. Then he laughed.

“I absolutely adore it,” he stated with a nod. “Actually I made this playlist, so I love every song on it.”

Shouta nodded. Mic seemed comfortable around the place, helping himself in the cabinets, he probably knew the owner. Oboro’s friend, Hizashi.

“It’s the kind of song that usually allows people to get more .. intimate, though,” Mic added after a pause and yes, Shouta could feel that. It was lascive and slow. “Not sure you’d be comfortable enough for some grinding. And you’re too drunk for that too.”

It was honest, at least and Shouta was thankful Mic wouldn’t take advantage of his current state.

“I’m too hot,” Shouta complained after a pause, hoping Mic would understand he needed a pause.

“You sure are, love,” Mic answered with a wink, but he looped his arm around his, leading him back to the kitchen at a slow pace. “Good thing I convinced you to drop the sweater.”

Soon enough, Mic was pushing a glass of cold water between his hands and Shouta was sipping at it slowly. His face was so hot, his hair clinging to it because of the sweat and it was ridiculous, because he hadn’t really danced much, he had merely moved his hips and it hadn’t lasted long, but the atmosphere, when one stood in the middle of the crowd, was so hot and moist. Mic didn’t look the slightest bothered with it.

“I need ..” Shouta started after he downed half the water, pushing his hair back again and again and he spotted what he needed exactly around Mic’s wrist. So, he didn’t finish his sentence, instead putting the glass down and grabbing Mic’s wrist so he could pull one of the colorful hair ties free. He used it to tie his hair up, off his face and the nap of his neck, and he glanced up at Mic.

“Fuck you’re so hot.”

“You keep saying that,” Shouta mumbled, looking away again, thankful to retrieve his glass and apply the cool surface against his face. “Does it ever work ?”

“No idea,” Mic admitted, laughing. “It’s not my usual line.”

For a second, Shouta couldn’t believe these words. But he didn’t argue, drinking more water, hoping it’ll help him cool off a little. He wasn’t sure he was feeling hot for the same reasons now, though. There was a blush creeping up his cheeks.

The offered hand, when Shouta pushed his now empty glass down on the counter, didn’t need words for him to know the meaning of it. Mic was offering him to go back to the makeshift dance floor, so they could dance more now the lazy, suave song had passed and given way to another, and he hesitated a second only before he accepted the offer. Not that he was feeling more comfortable about the whole affair, Mic was going to have to help him more, but he hadn't felt too anxious earlier so it probably was a good thing.

It wasn’t as hot anymore, now his hair was out of the way. Still warm, still moist, but not as unbearably so and Shouta let himself be carried by the music, but mostly by Mic’s hands once more on his body, placed between his waist and his hips, this time.

“I wanna dance with you all night long, babe,” Mic said, his eyes a bit wild. “You think you’d like that ?”

Shouta shrugged, he didn’t know. Mic’s smile didn’t falter.

It was only then, that Shouta focused on something else than his own dancing, if whatever he was doing could be called like that. He focused on Mic instead, on the way he was moving, the way he was tilting his head, just slightly, his eyes attached to him. The way the different colored lights looked on his skin, and it made him wonder how they looked on his own. The subdued shine of the leather pants, the soft sparkling of the jewelry he was wearing, a necklace, several rings. All these little details he hadn’t noticed earlier, with a more sober brain.

Mic was attractive, Shouta was realizing just now, and it had nothing to do with his intoxicated brain.

It was a wonder as to why Mic would want him, out of anyone else here. He was nothing like Mic, nothing like what he had seen for now. If anything, it felt like they were polar opposites.

It took a moment for Shouta to relax a little more again. Not that it helped with his dancing, he was aware just how hopeless he was, but Mic didn’t seem to care the slightest, happy enough they were dancing together, or so it seemed, and Shouta was slowly realizing that, just like Mic had said earlier, no one cared for what he was doing, no one would be watching him to make fun of him. Dancing wasn’t something he could call fun, as per se, Shouta couldn’t imagine himself doing so on his own, but dancing with Mic was enjoyable.

Shouta didn’t know how long they danced together. He had placed his hands back on Mic’s shoulder again, after a while, to which Mic had answered with a smile. He had also closed his eyes, during a moment as well, just to rest them. He had been tired before, he was even more so now, but he didn’t want to go home. It’d be hell to go home, seeing that midnight was approaching slowly and people would be leaving their homes so they could watch the fireworks the city had planned. The parade should be over with now, leaving room to the concert that had been announced months ago, the stage down the streets where this place was. There had been so many people outside when he and Oboro had arrived, now the streets would be jammed and no taxi would be able to bring him home. Walking wasn’t an option, it’d be too long. He’d have to wait for people to go home now.

It was fine, though. It really was.

“It almost looks like you’re enjoying yourself.”

Mic’s word felt like they had been whispered into his ear, which would have been impossible, considering just how loud the music still was around them. Still, Shouta shivered and he opened his eyes again, focused on the blond’s face, his hands tensing a little when Mic looked like he was about to pull away. He didn’t, though. Instead, he shifted forward. He had been at the edge of his comfort zone earlier. Now he had stepped right into it, so close Shouta could feel the warmth of his body, and yet, Shouta wasn’t feeling uncomfortable. On the contrary, it allowed him to move his arms, almost crossing them behind Mic’s neck and Mic joined his hands at the small of his back.

“One word and I step back,” Mic said. Shouta shook his head.

“We can dance more.”

“Look at that !” Mic exclaimed, his smile widening. “You’re really enjoying dancing !”

“I enjoy dancing with you,” Shouta corrected, which had Mic’s eyes widden. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

Mic didn’t, though his smile was sweet and Shouta felt fingers caress the small of his back slowly. Over his shirt and careful not to push it up.

“We could take a break though, if you need to breathe a little.”

Shouta accepted with a curt nod, feeling like sitting down would do him good. It wasn’t that he had danced so much that his body was sore, unlike other people around them, and their dance wasn’t exactly energic, but his tiredness, combined with the alcohol, weren't mixing well and he’d need to sit a bit so he could last longer. He hadn’t planned on staying for so long, after all.

Mic grabbed his hand again and he led him through the crowd, toward the chair Shouta had occupied earlier, surely thinking they’d be able to sit the way they had earlier. He didn’t hide his disappointment, when they realized that one of the chairs was gone, leaving only Shouta’s. Shouta sat down, soon rubbing his face.

Mic plopped down in his lap.

It took a moment for Shouta to process what had just happened. He hadn’t planned anything like this but he couldn’t say he was uncomfortable either. Not after Mic had actually managed to make him dance, and Mic had also stepped into his comfort zone earlier, without Shouta feeling the need to put some more distance between them. Also, Mic had been quite straightforward, when he had said that Shouta was hot. He had been flirting with him, right ?

His thoughts must have been showing all over his face, as Mic’s smile grew bigger as he wrapped his arms around his neck and made himself comfortable. The leather pants protested a bit, especially when Mic stretched his legs.

“I hope I’m not too heavy.”

“You’re not,” Shouta answered with the shake of his head.

“Tell me if you want me to move.”

In answer, Shouta moved his hand so it rested at the small of Mic’s back, the other carefully touching his knee. Mic’s eyes shone.

Shouta wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, or the moment, or Mic’s eyes peering into him like he could read his soul, but he kissed him. Right there, where he sat with the blond in his lap, he shifted, just slightly, glanced once at the blond’s lips and the next second he was kissing him. The moan he was answered with, though he couldn’t hear it over the music, Shouta felt it against his lips, was deep and needy, triggering shivers down his spine and goosebump on his arms that he couldn’t help but tighten around Mic as he did.

Fuck, this guy was something else. Had to be, to be able to get him to dance for so long, to help him be comfortable in such a setting. Shouta wasn’t sure he would have accepted, had Oboro been the one to coerce him to go in the middle of the party and dance and he had known him for so long and Oboro knew him so well. But Mic had managed and he was attractive and had called him all these things and had said he was hot so many times by now.

Shouta wanted him.

The tongue, that soon was invading his mouth, was demanding. Demanding and a bit desperate, making the kiss turn messy. Shouta accepted his fate, leaning the back of his head against Mic’s arm that was around him, allowing Mic to take control if he wanted to and gosh, that was a kiss like he hadn’t received in a long time. Granted he hadn’t dated anyone for a while, too busy with work now. Shouta didn’t notice right away that he had moved his arm to wrap it around Mic’s waist and hold him tight against him but he did, eventually, when he clenched his fingers against skin, under the white shirt Mic was wearing and Mic hummed happily against his lips.

“Fuck,” Mic cursed, as he pulled back to catch his breath, though he didn’t move away, pushing shorter kisses against his face. “Wanna move to the bedroom ?”

“We’re going to miss the countdown,” Shouta pointed out, glancing at the digital clock on the opposite wall. “And the fireworks.”

“I’ll give you the fireworks,” Mic answered, hiding his face against his neck and sucking his skin, hard.

Shouta yelped at the sudden sensation, clenching his fingers on Mic’s ass. Mic licked his skin, as if asking for his forgiveness.

The hard part really was for Mic to get off his legs, as he didn’t seem to want them to not be touching anymore. As soon as they were standing again, Mic was pulling him into another make out session, both hands on his cheeks, his body somehow shifting at the rhythm of the music and Shouta had to pinch his waist for the blond to step back, laughing, grab his hands and lead him to what Shouta thought was the master bedroom.

The door had been locked earlier, when he had searched Oboro through the big flat, so he had thought this would be Hizashi’s place. Mic, though, pulled a key from one of his pockets, unlocked it and entered the place like he owned it. He locked it again the moment they both were inside.

Several details caught Shouta’s attention, as he looked around. His sweater and his scarf were right there, carefully folded on a chair near the wardrobe. The bed, facing the bay windows overlooking the street, was huge and a mess of blankets and sheets. There were a few valuable things that looked like they had been hidden there before the party so they wouldn’t be broken, like a huge television screen, a laptop and some equipment Shouta didn’t know about.

But, most importantly, the room seemed so quiet, compared with how loud it had been in the living room. Not soundproofed, but it felt like the speakers had been turned so they wouldn’t direct too much sound in the direction of that bedroom. It was hard to explain and Shouta didn’t have long to think about it anyways, as hands settled on his hips and lips were on his neck again.

“The moment I saw you,” Mic was whispering, hands moving to his belly, under his shirt. “I think I drooled.”

“Glamorous,” Shouta teased, leaning into the touch, into Mic’s embrace, closing his eyes as Mic was nuzzling his neck. “No one’s going to walk in on us, right ?”

“Not a chance.”

The bed was comfortable, as Mic led him to lie on top of it and settled by his side, so they could kiss more. Comfortable and it smelled so much like Mic and Shouta thought that maybe, Mic lived there. Maybe he and Hizashi were sharing the flat and this was Mic’s bedroom and Hizashi’s was one of the others he had seen earlier. Though it probably wasn’t the right time to think about it, Shouta told himself and he shivered hard when Mic decided to roll on top of him, settle between his parted thighs and roll his hips. The pleasure that assaulted him, the pressure against his cock had him choke a little and Mic smiled, visibly proud of himself.

“Before we start, top or bottom ?”

Shouta shrugged, he didn't care much, he enjoyed both. Mic smiled.

"I wanna bottom with you."

"Okay," Shouta answered.

Mic was kissing his chin, slowly, like he was tasting him. It was good and it was soft and Shouta found himself closing his eyes, relaxing into the touch, the attention. It had been a while, he couldn't lie and he had almost forgotten what it was like to be touched like this, to have another person want him. And did Mic want him indeed.

Arms wrapped around his neck, the only signal that Mic was about to kiss him and Shouta hummed when it happened. Hips shifted again, though not as hard as before. Mic untied his hair, ran his fingers through dark strands, Shouta shivered again.

"You're sensitive."

"It's been some time," Shouta admitted with a shrug. "Don't worry about it."

"I don't," Mic said in a soft tone. "On the contrary. I wanna make you feel good.”

Shouta smiled softly. Because Mic had said so in such an attentive tone, so seriously that Shouta couldn’t doubt it. That guy had good intentions, he cared for his pleasure and wasn’t just seeking to please himself only. Mic wanted them to both enjoy what was going to happen and it hadn’t needed many words for him to express it. Though the look in his eyes was saying even more, seeing how focused he looked, how tender too. Shouta wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with tender, but he didn’t care much, he decided, when Mic ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back, away from his forehead.

“I’m still not over how gorgeous you are,” Mic whispered, and Shouta wasn’t sure what he was supposed to understand with it. Mic had said he was hot several times before, but “gorgeous” meant something else, to him. It didn’t hold the same feel to it.

“You’re not bad either,” he answered, hoping to distract himself from his thoughts and, while he had kept his hands on Mic’s waist before, he slid them slowly until they settled on the blond’s ass, squeezed a little. Alright, he’d admit it, maybe, just maybe, he had looked at Mic’s butt earlier and maybe, it was amazing. Shouta wasn’t one to like big butts, he’d rather be able to grab a nice, smaller butt that’d fit his hands and Mic’s was just perfect for that. Also, the leather did wonders on it.

“Not too flat to your likings ?”

Shouta shook his head, left, right. Mic laughed, his cheeks reddened, he leaned up to kiss his forehead.

“This goes right to my heart, love.”

Shouta wasn’t sure what Mic meant, so he didn’t answer.

The subject soon dropped anyways. For, right as Mic finished his sentence, he kissed him again, his hold around his neck tightening, a hand buried in his hair and Shouta closed his eyes, relaxing under the touch, under the attention. He had parted his legs, though lazily so, one of them resting against the mattress and Mic still settled between them, hips against hips. It was obvious how turned on the two of them were, both sharing the same taste of arousal and pants being too tight. And Shouta already was feeling quite uncomfortable in his jeans and they weren’t exactly tight to begin with, he liked to wear jeans that allowed him to move comfortably but Mic’s leather pants ? Shouta had no idea how the blond even moved in them. And now, with how hard he was in them...

Mic moaned against his lips, as hips shifted and hard-ons rubbed against one another. In answer, Shouta’s hands clenched on his ass, the leather protesting under the touch. It made Mic’s moan turn into a groan so low Shouta felt it against his chest.

“Fuck, I could just .. come like that ..”

Shouta couldn’t help his slight nod, because he could too, assuredly. It wouldn’t be comfortable, and it’d become gross as well but he already was so turned on .. He wasn’t sure he’d last long, once they’d start with the main dish.

“I need these off ..”

It took less than a second for Shouta to understand what Mic meant with that and he laughed softly, as Mic sat up, obviously annoyed yet amused with the situation as well. Mic undid his fly, bit his lips and it was a whole fight for him to manage to get the pants off. They were too tight. Way too tight.

“I swear, I look amazing in them but they’re always a nightmare to get off .. I need to stop wearing them.”

Shouta couldn’t help his laughter, which had the blond snicker as well but Mic did it, eventually, throwing the pants away from the bed as if they had personally insulted him and he rubbed his thighs carefully where the leather had left his skin reddened.

“Ah fuck,” Mic cursed softly, through he merely push his hair back then, and focused on Shouta again.

Shouta, feeling like it was only fair if he did so, sat up only so he could take his shirt off, throwing it away to join Mic’s pants on the bedroom floor. He saw the way Mic’s eyes roamed over his chest, as he took his body in, from his throat down to his lower belly, the way he licked his lips, surely unconsciously, the way he swallowed and he tilted his head to the side, holding back a smile.

“You go to the gym ?”

“Once in a while,” Shouta admitted with a slight shrug. “But my current job is physical.”

“I can see that,” Mic breathed out, licking his lips for good. “I wouldn’t have imagined that ...”

Before Shouta could prepare himself for it, Mic was kissing him again, enthusiastically, propping himself in Shouta’s lap, his amazing legs wrapped around his waist. Shouta’s hands automatically went for Mic’s ass again, and he hummed happily at the feel of it without the thick barrier that his pants had been, he couldn’t help rubbing his hands all over it, Mic’s underwear riding up a little. Then, Shouta went for the thighs, all the way down to the knees against his sides. Mic’s legs were so smooth, like he was shaving them and a glance down confirmed that maybe yes, Mic did shave his legs and Shouta wasn’t sure why but it was kind of sexy. Though one thing was certain, with how blond Mic was, his hairs would have probably blent in the tone of his skin.

Mic wasn’t exactly passive either, as soft fingers kept caressing his chest, and, Shouta smiled at the feeling, squeezing his pectorals a little.

It was true that his current job was quite physical, he worked in a warehouse and did a lot of moving heavy charges but it was temporary. He had enrolled in College and was trying to become a teacher. He had never thought he’d want to work with kids, especially not when he had been asked, back in high school, what he wanted to do in life. But after a few jobs around kids and being told that he was good with them, Shouta had decided he’d give it a try.

Mic tilted his hips. It wasn’t an innocent move, not with how precisely it had their respective hard-ons rub against one another, not with the smile on his lips and Shouta moaned at the feeling. He was starting to feel really uncomfortable in his pants now, and way too hot as well despite being already half naked, but taking his pants off would mean forcing Mic out of his lap or struggling a lot if they didn’t move from their current position. So, instead, he grabbed the hem of Mic’s shirt, pulled it over his head.

What Shouta had noticed earlier revealed itself to be true : Mic’s nipples were pierced. The little metal bars shone under the dim lights of the bedroom, catching Shouta’s eye immediately and he couldn’t help but rub a thumb against one of them, just to see how it felt. Mic moaned, his back arching. Shouta smiled.

“Sensitive ?”

“Fuck,” Mic cursed, nuzzling his neck and nodding. “Just suck on them.”

Shouta snorted and he took advantage of the position to wrap an arm around Mic’s lower back and lay him down on his back.

He paused, when he saw how gorgeous Mic was, then. Sprawled over the dark sheets, his hair like a halo around his head, his lids heavy over glazed eyes, his breathing hitching in throat. He looked like a painting, old but timeless and Shouta found himself unable to move, for a second or two, before he shook himself out of his thoughts and lowered himself until he could indeed suck on one of the pierced nipples.

The feel of the metal against his lips and his tongue was strange, unusual, but not that bad. Mic, though, looked and sounded absolutely into it as hands grabbed his hair and led him to continue. Not that Shouta was planning on stopping just now, seeing the blond’s reaction, it was too intense for him to stop, he didn’t want to cut Mic’s pleasure short. He did switch from one nipple to the other, sometimes pushing a kiss on the way between them, until Mic couldn’t handle it anymore and was pushing him away.

Mic was out of breath then, already, his tattooed arms over his head, his lips parted. Shouta used that moment to give him time to catch his breath and get rid of his own pants, under Mic’s green eyes. Mic’s eyes were roaming all over him, taking in his erection several times and his smile was crooked and a bit wild. Shouta took it as a compliment.

Shouta was the first one to move next. He shuffled between Mic’s parted legs again, leaning on his hands around the blond’s head, careful of his hair, to kiss him again. Mic answered the kiss eagerly, though he didn’t grab, didn’t pull him this or that way, leaving it to him to decide what to do next. Shouta did, moving his lips to Mic’s jaw, his neck, his throat. Mic smelled so good, so tempting and Shouta nuzzled his skin, even if for a second only. Then, he continued his way down, hands against the man’s sides, lips against the soft, delicate skin of his belly. Mic’s hips bucked a little, Shouta pinned them to the bed with both hands, continued to go lower, until his head was between these soft thighs and he looked up.

Mic had shifted, leaning on his elbows, looking down at him. He looked like a mess, hair sticking to his skin, cheeks reddened, he kept licking his lips and yet, he was just as beautiful as before.

“You don’t have to,” he breathed out, his voice rough from the moaning. “Fuck, you look good between my legs, but you don’t have to.”

Shouta tilted his head to the side, until his temple was against Mic’s thigh, his thumbs playing with the hem of his underwear, pushing it higher on his thighs. “Do you want me to ?”

“Gods yes,” Mic moaned. He looked like he was shaking in anticipation and his blush was spreading. “Please,” he then all but begged, biting his lower lip.

Shouta smiled. It wasn’t often someone wanted him that much. Not only that, but Mic was obviously able to help him out of his usual shell, even if unconsciously. Shouta usually was more reserved, when it came to sex, especially with a stranger, it was more like a way to relieve some tensions. Not tonight, though. Tonight, he wanted to have fun and Mic looked like the perfect candidate to help him with that.

Hell, Shouta had taken the first step, kissing Mic earlier. Sure, Mic had sat in his lap for a reason, but he had taken them both a bit further along the “let’s have fun together” line.

The way Mic’s chest fluttered with strangled breaths, when Shouta nuzzled against his cock, was delicious. Said cock still was clothed, it still was hidden under tight dark boxers but not for much longer. Mic couldn’t have helped faster, when Shouta grabbed the elastic so he could get the man naked and it was way more practical than the leather pants had been.

“Okay with hands in your hair ?”

Shouta hummed approvingly, settling down again, his hands on Mic's thighs to keep them apart and he pushed his lips against the blond's shaft. Mic's hips bucked again, Shouta held him still. The next second, though, he was wrapping his lips around the cock's head, suckling gently, bobbing his head just a little as he did.

It didn't take long for Mic's hands to fly to his hair and grab. A bit painfully, a bit desperately but Shouta couldn't care less as he focused on the matter at hand, making sure to wet Mic's cock the best he could with saliva to help with the motions of his head.

"Oh fuck this is good," Mic was moaning, his breathing heavy. "Fuck, from the moment I saw you, I just couldn't look away anymore …"

Shouta tried not to snort at how maybe weird it was for him to say something like that in the middle of a blowjob. It wasn't exactly sexy talk, it wasn't exactly exciting either but he couldn't help thinking that maybe it was just Mic's thing to talk. And maybe he was enjoying hearing him say such things too.

And so, Shouta continued to bob his head. Sometimes taking all of Mic's cock, down to the hilt, sometimes focused on the head, pushing his tongue against the underside of it, swirling it around it, suckling on it. Mic's hands weren't easy on his hair, pulling, fingers wrapped around strands but Shouta couldn't care less at the moment, he couldn't care for a single thing but how loud Mic was being. No one had ever been so loud before and Shouta had the feeling that it wasn't even Mic's full volume and that he was holding back. But wow, did it turn him on.

Shouta almost regretted looking up when he did so. Because he hadn't been ready to see just how beautiful Mic was, like that, his lips parted, head thrown back, hair all over the place. Skin sweaty and reddened. He hadn't been ready at all, seeing the surge of arousal coursing through his veins and he hummed, low and almost needy, quick to look away.

He wasn't regretting letting the blond take him to dance. Not at all.

It was Mic who stopped him. The blond didn't want to, it showed with how shaky he was but he pulled on his hair still and Shouta followed the movement and ended crashing his lips against Mic's, holding him between his arms, with legs tightly wrapped around his hips.

"I want you so badly," Mic was whispering against his lips, his eyes unfocused. "Oh baby you've got no idea just how much I do."

"I think I know," Shouta stated, shifting his hips, frotting against the blond. Mic's eyes rolled back but he kissed him hard again the next second.

"Lube," was Mic's next word. He pulled back, though he didn't move away, stretching as best he could to try and reach the bedside table and it looked a bit ridiculous but Shouta merely nuzzled his neck again, nipping at his skin. "Shouta, I'm gonna come if you don't stop."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

Mic snorted, rolling on his belly and stretching even more so he could open the drawer and rummage through it. Shouta almost moaned when it had Mic's amazing butt rub against his cock and he couldn't help but think it had been deliberate. It sure had been, he realized, when Mic arched his back and tilted his hips just the right angle. He couldn't hold his hum this time.

"Take the underwear off, love," Mic purred, glancing at him from over his shoulder. "You'll be more comfortable."

Shouta did, sitting up because it was easier this way. He did catch Mic glancing down and licking his lips. It made him shiver.

"Wanna do it yourself ?"

Shouta glanced at the offered bottle of lube, nodded once. Mic's smile grew.

"How do you want me, babe ? I can suck your cock while you're busy."

"Come here."

“Wait.”

Shouta wasn’t sure what Mic intended to do, as the blond got off the bed, walked around the bedroom in his naked glory, obviously not body shy at all. That was until the man reached the desk and put some music on the laptop. It wasn’t too loud, and the muffled beats coming from the party in the rest of the flat wasn’t helping but it was nice music still and Shouta didn’t mind it.

Mic didn’t waste any more time, as he joined him on the bed again, allowing himself to be handled when Shouta grabbed his waist and led him to sit in his lap. He wrapped both legs around him again, arms lazily propped on his shoulders, smirking as he was waiting for Shouta to do whatever he wanted and Shouta rolled his eyes.

“More music ?”

“You’ll learn, love, that I can’t function without music.”

Shouta didn’t answer. He knew some people were like that indeed.

The lube was cold on his fingers, when Shouta smeared some on them. Mic seemed to share the feeling, as he jumped a little, when Shouta moved his hand between the blond’s legs, reaching for his hole. But he soon was relaxing again, pulling him into a kiss when Shouta used his middle finger to teased him.

Mic’s hums against his lips were indecent. It was all Shouta could think about, as he was doing his best to prepare the other, pushing his finger in and out, only two knuckles deep at first. The hums were soft but needy, like Mic was trying to tell him to go for more already but, at the same time, the kiss had remained soft, even if deep. Mic’s arms had tightened around him, one hand buried in his hair, the other lightly scratching his back. It was an amazing kiss, if Shouta had to admit, or judge. Amazing and comfortable and all the good things.

With how relaxed Mic was in his lap, it didn’t take long for the blond to accept three fingers easily, to the point he was rocking his hips to take them even better. Shouta wasn’t bothered with it, now with how good Mic seemed to be feeling, how happily he was doing so, whole face flushed red, the blush going down his chest and cock leaking hard against his belly. The man was obviously enjoying himself and Shouta was as well. His last hook-ups had been disappointing, in that matter, as his partners hadn’t been even half as responsive or demonstrative as Mic was.

Gods, it was turning him on so badly, to watch and hear Mic fuck himself on his fingers, but it was just as painful, seeing how hard his cock was and how little attention it had received. Though he wasn’t sure it was needed, considering. He did want it to last.

“Get a condom,” Shouta whispered, eventually, the same time he crooked his fingers and pushed them against Mic’s sweet spot. “I think we both need more.”

Mic whined, as he pulled back from his fingers, nodding several times still, mumbling his approval under his breath and he rummaged through the same drawer to find said condom. He didn’t hand it over, unrolling it on Shouta’s cock indeed and Shouta shivered at the touch of his fingers and how warm his hands were. The coolness of the lube did help him calm down a little, when Mic poured it on the tip of his cock.

“Do you want me to ride you ?”

Shouta thought about it, tried to imagine it but he was quick to shake his head when a surge of arousal shot through him. He wouldn’t last long at all, if Mic did that. He was well aware of it.

Instead, he pushed Mic’s shoulders, so the blond would lie down on his back. Mic looked weirded out for a split second, frowning and pinching his lips but he relaxed again, eventually, taking in a breath though he tried to hide it, before he looked up, expectantly.

“It won’t last even a minute if you ride me,” Shouta admitted quietly, though he wasn’t exactly ashamed of it. It had been a long time after all, his stamina was in shambles and Mic was a gorgeous man. It wasn’t like he could help it. And, as he looked up, again Mic was looking so amazing, lying there in his whole naked glory.

“Let’s not do that then,” was the blond’s answer. He then motioned at Shouta to come closer, leaned up for a kiss when Shouta was close enough.

Legs were around his hips again soon, along with arms around his neck and his chest pressed to Mic’s, the blond’s piercings a bit cold against his heated skin, though he knew they were going to warm up soon enough. Shouta braced himself on his knees, parting them for leverage, he slipped a hand between them, grabbed himself, and led his cock to Mic’s entrance.

The moment the tip slipped in, he knew that even in this position, he wasn’t going to last as much as he’d like. The pause probably hinted so, as Mic caressed his hair slowly, peppering his face with butterfly kisses.

“Just breath, love,” he was advising, nuzzling against his cheek. “Don’t hold back if it becomes too much though, I wouldn’t want you to ruin your own climax. The important part is both our pleasure, yes ?”

Shouta opened his eyes again, that he had closed so he wouldn’t see Mic anymore, his breathing hitched in his throat at the intense gaze he was met with, how close Mic was, how intimate this all felt. Too intimate. But then again, he couldn’t help thinking that Mic wasn’t just like any other guys he ever slept with. He had managed to get him to dance, after all.

Crossed ankles pushed on his lower back and Shouta tilted his hips until he was fully in, his eyes never leaving Mic’s, his breathing ragged and hard. Mic hummed softly, his eyes rolling back once he was fully seated, fingers tightening on his hair.

“Gods, how thick you are, babe,” he moaned, leaning up more so he could lick his earlobe. “You’re going to ruin me for anyone else.”

“Talking will only make it shorter,” Shouta huffed, turning his head away, feeling his cheeks heat up. Did he have a kink he didn’t know about ? Looked like it, seeing how good hearing Mic talk to him felt. His previous partners never really were talkative, were they ? They went right to the deed, didn’t care for anything else and Shouta had been content with it.

“Good thing we’re not here for a performance then,” Mic answered, kissing his lips again. “Only pleasure, no matter the time it takes, be it short or long.”

Shouta nodded slowly, shifting his hips, making himself more comfortable. He was answered with fingers combing through his hair, Mic kissing his face slowly again. It was strange how easily Mic could find the right words to help him relax, to help him settle a little. Not that he was ashamed of his current state, seeing how good it made him feel and Mic seemed quite satisfied with it as well, but he did want them to enjoy themselves and for a certain amount of time at that, not just make it quick and mostly disappointing. Though what Mic had said, about not holding back his climax was also important, Shouta couldn’t help but think. He wasn’t good with that, after all and it always made him feel upset, in the end.

Mic’s needy cry, when Shouta pulled back just so he could thrust forward again, was delightful. Shouta watched, as his eyebrows shot up and his lips fell open, as he arched his back and tilted his head back, exposing his neck that Shouta quickly nuzzled and suckled on. Arms tightened around him, as if telling him to stay right there so Shouta did just that, starting a slow pace, one that would help him keep his cool for now, though Mic’s moans seemed to counterbalance that.

“That’s it, gorgeous,” Mic was encouraging, breathing into his ear and nails digging into his shoulder. “You make me feel so good.”

“Talk always that much ?”

“You’re into it,” Mic pointed out the obvious and he turned Shouta’s head so he could kiss him. Shouta shivered at the look he received next. “Plus it’s the truth. I’m feeling amazing in your arms.”

How could Mic say things like that, Shouta didn’t know. He didn’t know and yet, it went right .. somewhere. He couldn’t say his heart because that’d be too much, but it was close and Shouta did his best to ignore it.

What he couldn’t ignore, though, was how easily Mic managed to reverse their position, to have him roll on his back and sit down on his cock, riding him the way he had offered earlier. Shouta’s breathing hitched, he choked at the mere intensity of his pleasure, how beautiful the sight was and grabbed Mic’s hips to try and have him slow down but his hold had little effect on the blond, seeing that Mic could just stop with the riding, just sit and roll his hips while clenching around him and it was even more intense than before. Mic obviously knew what he was doing, if the annoying little smirk on his lips was any hint of it but, at the same time, Shouta couldn’t deny loving every second of it. Gods, did he love it, as hands settled on his, had him let go of Mic’s hips. Did he love the way Mic looked there, hair cascading on his shoulders, body shiny with sweat and looking as debauched as one ever could.

Surely, Mic was an incubus especially sent to seduce him.

“Fuck,” Mic was breathing out, biting his lip as he was placing his hands down on Shouta’s belly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck ..”

Stunned. Shouta was stunned, his pleasure and his orgasm building up too quickly. He knew it had been a bad idea to have Mic ride him but, at the same time, what a glorious sight it was indeed. Glorious and gorgeous and he didn’t move for a moment, lying there like it was his first time, too overwhelmed to even know what he was supposed to do, then he sat up. Mic was thrown off balance for a split second, as he probably hadn’t expected it but he kissed him hard the next, hands holding his face, going even harder and Shouta meeting his hips with shallow thrusts up.

“Yes baby, come on,” Mic was articulating against his lips, eyebrows knitting together, nodding encouragingly. “Come on, I’m close …”

It was all it took for Shouta to climax. So quickly, so abruptly. He couldn’t even hold back, though he wasn’t sure he would have managed, had he tried and hadn’t Mic told him not to do that anyways ? It had been short indeed, the way he had said it would if Mic was to ride him but it had been intense as well, so much that he moaned against Mic’s skin as he hid his face against his shoulder blade, hands on the man’s amazing ass. He shivered and he shook, as Mic bounced on his sensitive cock again, searching his own climax as he fisted his cock. Mic came against his chest a few seconds later.

Mic all but collapsed between his arms. Shouta's cock still deeply buried in his ass, his breathing heavy, his skin reddened but Shouta didn't mind much as he wasn't sure he'd be able to move just yet anyways. Also to be able to hold onto Mic, to nuzzle his neck even more and inhale his perfume, it all was a pleasure in itself.

"That was amazing."

The comment had Shouta snort against the man's skin, but he didn't move yet. Instead he rubbed a hand against Mic's back, enjoying the warmth, the comfort between them. Enjoying the effects of his orgasm and now intense it had been.

Mic was the first to move. He hummed, as he shifted his hips, as he freed Shouta's cock, moving away just enough so he could take care of the condom, put a knot on it and throw it away to the trash can. He looked up, then, a big dorky, satisfied smile on his lips and Shouta, frustrated it was so cute, leaned forward for a kiss.

"You stay the night, right ?"

"As long as you don't force me to dance again."

Mic laughed. "Deal. We'll clean up instead."

Mic had wet wipes in his bedside table that he used to clean up the mess he had made on Shouta's chest, as well as the mess of lube on himself. Shouta laid down on his belly a few seconds later, grabbing a pillow. A nap sounded great right now.

"Don't fall asleep," Mic said shaking his leg lightly. "It's going to be midnight soon!"

Shouta grumbled. But Mic didn’t seem to mind much, joining him as soon as the dirty wipes were thrown away, leaning against his side and kissing his face. There was an arm around his shoulders and a leg resting on his ass and it was so warm. Shouta shivered as fingers ran through his hair.

“Come on, baby,” Mic was purring, pecking his lips. “Wait until midnight before you pass out on me.”

“It’s just a normal day,” Shouta muttered, rubbing his face, hoping to push the sleepiness away still.

“Maybe, but it gives us a reason to have some fun. Isn’t the fun worth it ?” Mic asked slowly. “Didn’t we have fun ?”

Shouta groaned but he nodded, eventually.

“We finished the year with amazing sex,” Mic stated in a sigh. “Maybe we should start it with even more amazing sex.”

Shouta snorted tiredly, looking at the unfocused image of Mic, so close to his face, he rolled his eyes at the teasing smirk. “You’ll have to wait if you’re asking for round two.”

“I can wait,” Mic said in a nod. “But admit that it’d be great to start the new year with ..”

Shouta held back a sigh. “Maybe,” he conceded and he was answered with a deep, slow kiss.

Somehow, he ended up on his back, Mic lying between his parted thighs. Still kissing, with hands he had settled on the man’s ass that he kept caressing slowly. But Mic was leading it all and Shouta let it happen happily, though what he said still stood, he wasn’t ready for round two just yet. It’d need time, he didn’t have as much stamina, when it came to sex, as one could have.

Mic pulled back, eventually, resting his chin on his arms on top of Shouta’s chest, watching him attentively. “We could also meet again later. If you’d like.”

“For sex ?”

Mic’s lips pulled into a crooked smile. “If that’s what you seek, yes. But I was thinking of a date. If you’d want one. With me.”

Shouta blinked, surprised with the offer. He hadn’t come here to have a date, and hadn’t hoped for one with Mic either, thinking what had just happened would only happen once. Or twice, if round two was on the table later indeed. But a date ? With that gorgeous man ? He was surprised indeed. Surely, Mic wasn’t into him that much, right ? Then again, he did recall Mic’s words from earlier, how he had said he was into the broody type, how he liked guys like him ..

“10 !”

The yelling from the other side of the door, from the party he had almost forgotten by now, caught Shouta’s attention and he looked to the side.

“9 ! 8 !”

The music’s volume had been turned down, even a little, allowing him to hear more clearly the one that had been playing in the bedroom, and it was soft and nice too.

“7 ! 6 ! 5 !”

Mic was whispering the countdown as well. Not pushing for an answer from him and Shouta focused on the man again, he shivered hard under his gaze and when Mic reached up just so he could caress his hair. He couldn’t help closing his eyes, leaning into the touch.

“4 ! 3 ! 2 !”

“Are you sure ?”

Shouta could picture the man's smile. He could see him so clearly, despite his closed eyes, or maybe it was before he felt the way Mic’s breathing changed against his chest, or maybe it was because of how Mic cupped his cheek. He opened his eyes again, just in time.

“1 ! Happy new year !”

Mic kissed him. Unlike before, it was soft, surprisingly so, it was gentle and attentive and careful and Shouta felt his heart burst in his chest and he moved his hands from Mic’s butt to his back, as it’d be more appropriate like that, he thought. Mic didn’t seem to mind, as he wrapped both arms around his neck and hummed against his lips.

“Happy New year, babe,” Mic breathed out, when they pulled back.

“Happy New year,” Shouta answered, his hands following Mic’s spine. Mic then leaned into his hand, when Shouta pushed his hair away. “I’d like a date with you.”

“We’ll do that then.”

You can hang on to me if you don't know
I'll take you down the line
Don't you move too fast but don't go too slow
I want your love tonight

They never had that date.

If Shouta had to admit it, he chickened out. He did and he wasn’t proud of it but what was done was done, now, and he couldn’t change the past. Did he regret it ? Maybe.

Even now, as he was thinking about his New Year’s Eve with Mic, how they met, how they danced together, how they had sex and spent the night together, Shouta couldn’t stop thinking that he should have stayed. But, when he had woken up to Mic sleeping so deeply by his side, his hearing aids charging on the bedside table, his hair everywhere, naked as the day he was born and in the morning light, Shouta had felt like he was suffocating. Like this was too good to be true, that Mic would change his mind when he’d see him again, when he’d be completely sober again.

Mic was a great guy and Shouta felt like maybe they wouldn’t do any good together.

Two weeks later, he was regretting leaving the flat before Mic even woke up, not even leaving a note to explain that he couldn’t do that. It was making him feel terrible, to have been such a coward, to have pulled such a move on someone that had seemed as good as Mic was. Mic had come to keep him company, after all, he had noticed him and sure, he had approached because he thought he was hot, but no one during the party had even looked at him twice, after all, no one had even tried to talk with him. They had ignored him like he was a piece of furniture. Mic hadn’t and he had helped him relax enough to dance and they had good fun together.

Shouta couldn’t stop thinking like he was a jerk.

It was the knock at his door that forced him out of his thoughts with a start. Shouta had been half asleep, having worked all night at the warehouse, catching up on sleep as best he could but knowing that his schedule was fucked up anyways. The bedroom was dark and the light coming from the corridor when Oboro pushed the door ajar blinded him. Shouta groaned, hiding against a pillow.

“Hey, Sho,” Oboro whispered, as if unsure he was awake enough to talk. “I wanted to warn you. Remember New year’s eve party at Hizashi’s ? Well, Hizashi called and he was feeling bad we didn’t get to meet him, so he’ll be coming this afternoon. He’s a bit loud so don’t hesitate to text if I need to tell him to quiet down.”

“I’ll get up,” Shouta grumped, rubbing his face against the pillow. Gods he was so drained.

“You don’t have to!” Oboro was quick to say, though he kept his tone low.

“He’s your friend, you care for him so I want to meet him,” was Shouta’s answer as he was pushing himself up. “Plus, I can sleep again later.”

“Alright, as you wish. He’s on his way, he shouldn’t take long to show up. I’ll make you some coffee.”

The world was spinning a little, as Shouta sat up and rubbed his eyes. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table, sighed when he realized he had only slept a couple of hours and he stretched his sore muscles, doing his best to ignore the ache in his shoulders.

Shouta found the promised cup of coffee ready for him in the living room, when he finally left his bedroom, dressed appropriately, he hoped and settled down on the couch. He could hear Oboro was in the bathroom at the moment, surely getting ready to meet his friend and he wondered, for an instant, what Hizashi would think of him when he’d see him. Shouta knew what he looked like, after a night shift, especially with as little sleep as he had last night. He knew and it never was good.

The bell rang and it startled him so much he almost dropped his cup of coffee. Shouta cursed, though it was no one’s fault and he put it back down on the coffee table before he spilled it on himself.

“Sho, can you get it ? I’ll be right there !”

Shouta nodded for himself, pushing himself back on his feet, he dragged his feet to the front door, ran a hand through his hair in hopes to tame it a little and opened the door.

The sight he was met with, Shouta could have never prepared himself for. Gorgeous blond hair, vibrant green eyes, painfully tight jeans and a leather jacket. Exactly like his memories, but, at the same time, better and he stared, his lips parted, unable to form any coherent thought as he watched Mic standing there, a big dorky smile on his lips.

Mic looked good. Wait, no, he was looking amazing, like the most handsome guy he had ever met. But his smile faded, as his eyes settled on him, though it didn’t turn bitter the way it could have been. It faded to something soft and Mic stepped forward, even if a little.

“Hey.”

Shouta felt his guilt slap him so hard he could have stumbled back. Mic wasn’t bitter. He knew he wasn’t with Mic having pronounced only one word. He wasn’t angry at him.

“Hey,” Shouta forced out, because he couldn’t just stay there, saying nothing.

“You’re Oboro’s friend.”

A constatation, an understanding and Shouta looked up, then down again.

“You said your name was Mic.”

Mic, or Hizashi, laughed softly. “It’s my stage name, Present Mic. I’m a DJ. Not famous yet but getting there. People now call me Mic more often than Hizashi.”

Shouta nodded, once.

“You didn’t stay.”

Again, no bitterness, no remontrance. A statement. Maybe asking for an explanation, but not pushing for it.

“I .. thought you’d change your mind in the morning.”

“I didn’t,” Hizashi admitted, shaking his head and stepping forward again. The tip of his fingers brushed Shouta’s. “And I haven’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

Shouta glanced up, Hizashi’s smile widened slightly.

“I accept the apology,” the blond whispered, grabbing his hand fully now, pulling it to his lips, kissing his knuckles. “Date ?”

“Alright.”

Shouta wasn’t sure how it happened but the next moment, they were kissing. He had his arms around Hizashi’s neck, his back to the door frame and Hizashi’s hands were on his hips. They were interrupted, though, when Shouta yawned. It made Hizashi laugh.

“I need a nap.”

“I sure can see that.”

It was Hizashi that led him back inside, not caring that he was but a guest here. He kicked the door closed, his shoes off, left his jacket on a chair and took him to the couch, settling down there and grabbing a near plaid to unfold it and get it ready for him. Shouta snuggled against the blond’s side, humming as Hizashi placed the blanket on top of his body and kissed his head.

“I’ll try to be quiet.”

Shouta nodded, closing his eyes, shivering under the touch of Hizashi’s fingers against the nape of his neck.

“I’m here by the way, but don’t mind me !” Oboro exclaimed from the side of the living room, having silently watched the whole exchange but he had one huge smile on the lips.

Shouta groaned, nuzzling against Hizashi’s neck. Hizashi laughed.

“Hey, dude, remember the hot guy I mentioned ? The hot, broody, sexy, amazing, lovely …”

“Yeah yeah, shut up already, I don’t wanna know what you and Sho did. Want something to drink ?”

Hizashi laughed and Shouta fell asleep to the sound of it, blissful and feeling a lot better about himself.

And now, he had a date with a hot, bright, sexy, amazing, lovely blond.