drug use, mentions of sexI'm sorry I just really wanted to write kyouhaba shotgunning
"I hate you," Yahaba murmurs against Kyoutani's mouth, just to make himself clear, smoke drifting out of his mouth with each breath.
Kyoutani hums in agreement, pressing his lips to Yahaba's briefly, brushing a light, warm kiss to them before he pulls back, lifting his joint to his mouth.
Yahaba doesn't know when his life became this—sitting naked in Kyoutani's bed after sex, languid and content, smoking together. He licks his lips, watching Kyoutani take another drag. Kyoutani's gaze doesn't leave him, his eyes hooded but just as piercing as ever. Yahaba licks his lips again, sitting up a little straighter, leaning in towards Kyoutani this time instead of waiting for him.
Their lips touch as they open their mouths against each other. Kyoutani exhales gently, and the hand that isn't holding the joint buries itself in Yahaba's soft hair, fingers stroking gently through it. Yahaba pulls away, feeling lightheaded, and he knows it's not entirely to do with the smoking.
"I really, really hate you," he breathes out, then presses himself closer again, presses his lips to Kyoutani's without even having the guise of inhaling smoke. Kyoutani's hand is still in his hair, pulling him even closer, holding him there. Their tongues are clumsy against each other and this is, by no stretch of the imagination, anywhere near one of the best kisses they've shared, but it's still good in its own way, imperfect and a little messy, still a little breathtaking.
Just like Kyoutani, Yahaba thinks to himself. Their arms wind around each other and they kiss harder, until they pull apart panting.
Yahaba takes the joint from Kyoutani, their fingers brushing together more than truly necessary. He brings it to his lips and this time, it's him exhaling, Kyoutani inhaling, and the world is spinning around them, until Yahaba is on his back and Kyoutani is on top of him, holding himself on all fours.
It's too much distance, Yahaba thinks, pulling him down. He needs Kyoutani against him, needs the feeling of their skin pressed together. There's so much of it, too, from chest to groin, their legs wrapping around each other and Yahaba doesn't think he's ever hated someone more in his entire life, he's never had his heart filled to the brim with it, like it's threatening to burst.
They put the joint out when it's done, but return to each other's mouths like it's a preoccupation. They kiss each other slowly, the way Yahaba thinks about when he and Kyoutani aren't with each other. He thinks about Kyoutani's surly expression, his gentle hands, his clever tongue. He thinks about Kyoutani all the fucking time and he hates it, he absolutely can't stand it. He tells Kyoutani as much, and gets nothing but agreement and a quiet, me too.
"I hate you so much I can't fucking breathe with it," Yahaba mutters against Kyoutani's mouth, pulling him even closer, like he's never going to let go, like he doesn't want to.
It occurs to Yahaba that maybe the word he's looking for isn't hate after all.
FILL: SWAG 2016
drug use, mentions of sex
I'm sorry I just really wanted to write kyouhaba shotgunning"I hate you," Yahaba murmurs against Kyoutani's mouth, just to make himself clear, smoke drifting out of his mouth with each breath.
Kyoutani hums in agreement, pressing his lips to Yahaba's briefly, brushing a light, warm kiss to them before he pulls back, lifting his joint to his mouth.
Yahaba doesn't know when his life became this—sitting naked in Kyoutani's bed after sex, languid and content, smoking together. He licks his lips, watching Kyoutani take another drag. Kyoutani's gaze doesn't leave him, his eyes hooded but just as piercing as ever. Yahaba licks his lips again, sitting up a little straighter, leaning in towards Kyoutani this time instead of waiting for him.
Their lips touch as they open their mouths against each other. Kyoutani exhales gently, and the hand that isn't holding the joint buries itself in Yahaba's soft hair, fingers stroking gently through it. Yahaba pulls away, feeling lightheaded, and he knows it's not entirely to do with the smoking.
"I really, really hate you," he breathes out, then presses himself closer again, presses his lips to Kyoutani's without even having the guise of inhaling smoke. Kyoutani's hand is still in his hair, pulling him even closer, holding him there. Their tongues are clumsy against each other and this is, by no stretch of the imagination, anywhere near one of the best kisses they've shared, but it's still good in its own way, imperfect and a little messy, still a little breathtaking.
Just like Kyoutani, Yahaba thinks to himself. Their arms wind around each other and they kiss harder, until they pull apart panting.
Yahaba takes the joint from Kyoutani, their fingers brushing together more than truly necessary. He brings it to his lips and this time, it's him exhaling, Kyoutani inhaling, and the world is spinning around them, until Yahaba is on his back and Kyoutani is on top of him, holding himself on all fours.
It's too much distance, Yahaba thinks, pulling him down. He needs Kyoutani against him, needs the feeling of their skin pressed together. There's so much of it, too, from chest to groin, their legs wrapping around each other and Yahaba doesn't think he's ever hated someone more in his entire life, he's never had his heart filled to the brim with it, like it's threatening to burst.
They put the joint out when it's done, but return to each other's mouths like it's a preoccupation. They kiss each other slowly, the way Yahaba thinks about when he and Kyoutani aren't with each other. He thinks about Kyoutani's surly expression, his gentle hands, his clever tongue. He thinks about Kyoutani all the fucking time and he hates it, he absolutely can't stand it. He tells Kyoutani as much, and gets nothing but agreement and a quiet, me too.
"I hate you so much I can't fucking breathe with it," Yahaba mutters against Kyoutani's mouth, pulling him even closer, like he's never going to let go, like he doesn't want to.
It occurs to Yahaba that maybe the word he's looking for isn't hate after all.