Nothing in Particular | 4 - To Say What You Mean and Mean What You Say
Pairing: Omota Uramichi x F!Reader
Summary: A series of unexpected encounters and misunderstandings causes you to fill a large and gaping hole in Uramichi’s life.
Minors and blank blogs DNI! You will be blocked!
Warnings: Usahara puking, things getting heated between Reader and Uramichi
The studio lobby sounded busier than usual, and the cast couldn’t help their curiosity. There shouldn’t have been any kids visiting since today was a designated rehearsal day. There weren’t any studio tours either. It was a rare treat for a Friday, so the sudden noise was something to be investigated. This could have been a telltale sign that their peaceful transition into the weekend might be disrupted (because of Derekida).
Utano was the first to hear Mei’s chirpy voice directing whoever it was towards their direction.
“Thank–oh. Surprise!” You greeted Utano, raising the box you held in your arms.
It was clear that you weren’t visiting as a friend, based on your workwear. An office-appropriate top and tailored wide leg pants were paired with sensible heels. The only bits of your personal style were apparent in the jewelry you wore and how you styled your hair. Your company I.D. swung on the lanyard it hung on as you met her.
“What’re you doing here, Ms. Corporate?” Utano teased.
“I wanted to apologize for my team intruding on your company dinner last Friday,” you explained before leaning in so that only she could hear. “But really, I’m using that as an excuse to spend company money on those fruit sandos that we’ve been dying to try.”
She gave you a thumbs up. How many weeks had you been tagging each other in pictures and videos on social media? It was easy for you two to be influenced by viral cafes. Yeah, you’ve both had fruit sandos before but not from this particular place.
“What’s this?” Iketeru asked, trying to figure out why the logo on the box you held looked familiar.
Meanwhile, Usahara tried to figure out why you looked familiar. You gave him an awkward smile before returning your attention to Utano.
He nudged Kumatani and whispered, “Hey! Isn’t that the chick that Uramichi was bullying?”
The dark-haired mascot glanced at their senpai before answering. “Why would you think that Uramichi is a bully?”
“What do you mean why?” Usahara asked, voice returning to its normal volume of loud as fuck. “Dude, Uramichi bullies the hell out of us. I guess you aren’t open-minded enough to think that he could bully girls too.”
There was too much to unpack in Usahara’s statement, but most importantly, Kumatani didn’t really care. What was more interesting was the fact that the older man paid them no attention, instead focusing on the strangers in the lobby.
Standing awkwardly to the side of you was a kid that looked straight out of college. He was fresh-faced and bright-eyed despite being uncertain of where he belonged in this situation. His tie was slightly crooked and a few hairs were misplaced as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.
In stark contrast to him was the man to your right. He was the epitome of a handsome salaryman from a drama. His hair was perfectly coiffed and his suit wrinkle free. He towered over everyone in the room and even threatened to outshine Iketeru.
Uramichi was hit with a feeling he hadn’t felt since his days as a professional athlete. A rival had suddenly appeared.
Without breaking your attention away from Utano, you introduced her to your colleagues.
“This is my friend, Utano,” you told them, “the one that’s a famous singer.”
The younger man wanted to nod enthusiastically and say that he remembered her from the other night, but he was under strict orders to be professional. He held his tongue and gave her a slight bow.
“And this is…” You weren’t sure of how to explain your relationship to Uramichi. He hadn’t even acknowledged you, standing slightly behind Utano, almost as if he didn’t want to be near you. “This is Uramichi oniisan. The face of the show.”
Pleased that you had called him by his name, Uramichi nodded towards them as a hello. Utano wondered what was up with his expression. Shouldn’t he be happy? His expression seemed annoyed.
“This is Daiki, one of the newest employees at my company.” Finally, the kid perked up at the mention of his name, bowing deeply before saying hello.
“And this is Ken, my colleague and fellow regional manager. The territory he covers actually falls within this district.”
“Which is why they’re so close!” Daiki said brightly.
Would it be too obvious if you turned to glare at him? Damn, you really shouldn’t glare at your subordinate, you reminded yourself. But still! You bit the inside of your cheek. You didn’t want Uramichi to misunderstand your relationship.
…which was exactly what he did. Uramichi had seen enough shitty dramas to know that forced proximity was an easy way to fall in love. It made sense when he thought about it too. It was Japanese culture to spend most of your waking hours at work. It was an obvious setting for love. Perhaps things fizzled out between you because things were heating up between you and him.
Uramichi looked at Ken again. The guy was easily over six feet tall.
“Kentaro Maeda,” he said, offering his surname and business card.
The elation Uramichi felt turned into a downward spiral as he held the card in his hand. Ah, so you were already on a first name basis with him. The rest of the introductions were a buzz in his ears as he realized what that meant.
But! Uramichi faced more fearsome opponents in the past, hadn’t he? He’d been the underdog and unfavored in previous competitions and still managed to achieve first place. He couldn’t let this salaryman beat him when it came to competing for your affection. He looked for possible ways to beat him.
“Isn’t that heavy?” Uramichi suddenly asked, abruptly halting the group’s conversation. “I can carry that for you.”
There was no way you could have him carry the box. What was inside was specifically for him. You shook your head. “I’m fine.”
“But it looks heavy,” he insisted.
You didn’t back down. “I’m stronger than I look.”
“Okay,” he said, “but I’m stronger than you.”
It was then that you noticed what he was wearing. Rather than his tasio no oniisan uniform, he wore casual athleisure instead. A snug shirt and gym shorts highlighted his toned frame, bringing you back to his apartment. Why was he so handsome and confident in his abilities? How could you have humiliated yourself in front of him?
A challenger has appeared, Usahara thought, and now Uramichi wants to crush her. It was clear to him that you were flustered by his assertiveness, just like how you were when he insisted that you call him by his first name.
“Hey, how ‘bout we set up in the lounge?” Usahara suggested. “Wouldn’t wanna waste our last break out here, am I right? ‘Sides, food is a great way to distract the big boss from piling on more work.” He looked at his senpai. “Yo Uramichi, wanna come with me to tell the director and the rest of the crew that we got a delicious gift?”
Using his chipper made-for-TV voice, Uramichi answered. “Great idea!”
Usahara was pleased that the suggestion got Uramichi off your back. He knew what it felt like to be at the end of his senpai’s wrath and was glad that he could at least spare you from that fate.
Chills ran up his spine as Uramichi quietly told him to eat shit.
–
By the time the duo returned with the rest of the crew, the food had been set up, effectively distracting Derekida and the assistant directors. You were happy to see that the Together with Maman staff were enjoying the gift. You delegated Daiki and Ken with the task of charming the crew members while you set up the sandwiches in a presentable manner. It was simple enough that they couldn’t fuck it up.
Seeing that everyone had food in their hands, you decided it was best not to linger anymore. You made your rounds to say goodbye, dragging Daiki with you as you approached Uramichi.
“We’ll be heading out first,” you told Uramichi. You had successfully avoided him for the most part, but knowing you had an escape route made you comfortable with meeting him one last time. “But first, Daiki has something that he’d like to tell you regarding that comment he made the other night.”
Uramichi couldn’t even remember what the kid had said.
“It was inappropriate and unprofessional of me to tell you that I get laid thanks to you, your colleagues, and the show.”
You nodded along, satisfied that he went with the script you had practiced in the company car. However, you stopped when he continued on.
“I, in fact, rarely get laid. I’m actually dropping off my lil sister at school during the time that Together with Maman airs, but I wanted to sound funny and cool in front of my co-workers.”
Daiki looked pitiful, especially with the aura of disappointment you sent in his direction. His eyes were staring at Uramichi’s shoes in what you assumed was repentance. In reality, Daiki fought every urge to ask Uramichi how he got that exclusive Onitsuka Tiger colorway.
“Apology accepted?” Uramichi said hesitantly.
Daiki’s eyes shot up from the floor when Uramichi accepted his apology. Great! Since he accepted his apology, maybe that meant he could ask him about his shoes.
The inside of your cheek might be bitten raw by the end of the day. That was not the professional, succinct yet sincere apology you had practiced. Daiki, what the fuck.
“Aren’t we lucky that Uramichi is so gracious?” You said to Daiki. He nodded furiously. “Now scram,” you mouthed.
Your kouhai hesitantly left your side, throwing a peace sign out to Uramichi when you weren’t looking.
Now that it was just the two of you, your embarrassment came back in full force. Still, you handed him that small box that you were protecting so fiercely. “I didn’t want the others to know that I got you a separate gift,” you admitted shyly.
“I heard that you don’t like sweets.” Because you scoured the internet for his food preferences all night like a coward. You hoped that interview from nine years ago still held true. “So I got you something a little different but still special.”
He opened the box to find a pork cutlet sando, and on its soft white bread, a message was branded.
Congrats on your award nomination. Uramazing ☺
Did he hate it? You wondered. Uramichi was just staring at the sandwich.
“It’s a little different,” you mentioned again, “but I hope it didn’t disappoint you too much.” Maybe you overhyped it.
“I can’t eat it,” he finally said.
Your smile fell. You knew you shouldn’t have trusted that old ass article. It was probably some PR shit his coach had made up. You wanted to melt into the floor.
“Is it because of the flavor?” You chose the one with the most amount of protein though. “Or is it not your preference?”
Maybe it would have been better to go with something more straight-forward like a box of high quality meat. It would have been difficult to justify that outlier expense though, and it would have been immediately flagged as suspicious if recorded. Maybe he could tell that you were spending company money and being a bit dishonest. Was he disgusted with your behavior?
“It’s… it’s too cute to eat,” he explained, breaking through your thoughts. “I don’t want to bite it and ruin it.”
Huh?
“You could take a picture of it, if it’s that precious?” You suggested, guessing that it should have been obvious from your interactions with him that he wasn’t a foodie.
“Right!” He said, pretending that it was the most obvious answer in the world.
You counted down before taking a picture of him and the sando on your phone. “I’ll send it to you soon,” you told him before leaving. “Hope it tastes as good as it looks.”
Utano pulled you aside before you left the studio completely. “I could feel the tension between you,” her eyes gleamed, “so let’s schedule something together ASAP.”
Uramichi couldn’t help but notice how close you and Ken walked together while leaving the studio.
–
It bothered him for the rest of the day and into the next too. He couldn’t remember jack shit half the time, so why was this gnawing at him? It was worse than when he forgot what the fuck a macaron was. He couldn’t think of how to describe what he was feeling.
Noticing Uramichi staring at his phone, Nekota suggested, “Whoever it is that you’re waiting for, why don’t you reach out first?”
“Does it look like I’m waiting for someone?” He asked.
Usahara piped up. “Nah, it looks like you’re pining, bro! Who’s the lucky lady that has you wrapped around her finger?”
That was when Kumatani connected the dots. The Mud Shack usually lightened up Uramichi’s mood, but he’d been a dark cloud all night, staring at his empty notification screen and sighing. You weren’t just Utano’s friend. You weren’t a victim of Uramichi’s harsh life lessons either. You were the woman who rushed past him and Usahara over the weekend. It could have been a coincidence since Uramichi’s apartment complex was huge, but what if…?
Giving the blond a dirty look, Uramichi snapped. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I can tell you whose hand will be wrapped around your throat if you don’t shut it.”
Grimacing, Usahara tried to pacify Uramichi with another drink, flagging down the server. Kumatani sighed while Nekota laughed.
–
Nekota’s suggestion lingered in Uramichi’s head as he headed home, shifting his shoulder to accommodate the near-dead weight beside him. He’d think of anything at this point to distract himself from Usahara’s excessive drooling and pouting. Once again, his kouhai was drunk out of his mind, and the others immediately bailed when it came to bringing the blond home.
Since when did he start taking advice from Nekota of all people? This was the same man that had been married and divorced twice! But perhaps that also meant that he knew more than the average person…? Wisdom was still wisdom regardless of the failures that led to such knowledge, right?
He shook his head, staring at your name in his phone as he waited for the pedestrian light to change signals.
“God, I wish I were–” Usahara started.
Luckily for Uramichi, the light changed, and he ribbed Usahara so he’d start walking.
–
Law & Sons was surprisingly busy for a late Saturday night, and you were unsure of why the best konbini of the neighborhood was packed. There were only deals on milk and chewing gum. Part of its charm was the fact that it was nearly empty at all hours of the day, often disregarded for the more popular chains. Still, you braved through the crowd and (im)patiently waited in line.
While stuck in the queue–the poor college student was overwhelmed–you used that time to send Uramichi the picture of him and his personalized sando. You’d been meaning to send it to him but had been chickening out last minute, unable to get past your embarrassment. Still, he looked so adorable with that shocked expression that bloomed into a wide grin, as if he wasn’t used to human kindness.
You selected the picture, and once more, you were stuck on hitting send. It’d be odd to send the picture without saying anything, but what could you possibly write?
Hi, here’s the pic I took of you the other day. You look really nice. I really like your smile here~ Ugh, no.
You look very handsome here, especially when you smile. Doesn’t that sound as if he doesn’t normally look handsome?
Nice smile. You kept reading it in a sarcastic tone.
Ah! You thought of something good.
–
After dumping Usahara at the tables in front of Law & Sons, Uramichi fished his phone out of his pocket as he made his way to the anti-hangover drink section. He clicked on your message thread. The last message you sent each other was dated from last Friday. He sighed, putting his phone away while grabbing two Ukon no Chikaras, then headed towards the drink aisle in the back. He’d get a Pocari Sweat for him and Usahara.
Uramichi always threatened to leave the blond out on the streets one day, but next time, he really would do it. He already anticipated Usahara sleeping in until the late afternoon, bumming around his apartment until night, effectively wasting Uramichi’s Sunday.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. Was he losing his hearing along with his will to live? Or was it because the konbini was oddly crowded right now? He checked the notification after queuing up.
He stared at your message. What did you mean?
The pic turned out better than expected.
Adjusting the small basket he placed all the drinks in, he zoomed in on his face, trying to figure out what was wrong with it.
Was he naturally unphotogenic? Did you think the whole concept of him taking a pic with a sando was weird? Were you perhaps doubting your photography skills? There were a myriad of reasons as to why you said that, and it could also explain why you didn’t send the picture until now.
–
You stepped forward, placing your items on the counter. It was stupid, but finally hitting send on your message made you feel free. And now that you felt lighter, you felt luckier too.
“A scratcher, please,” you told the clerk, sliding the correct amount of change.
When you turned to leave, a familiar face caught your eye.
“Michi?”
The brunette jolted at the sound of someone calling his name a second time. At first he thought it was a mistake.
Your greeting turned into regret as you realized how sloppy you looked. Your hair was unstyled, your face bare, and you went out in your ratty old lounge clothes and Crocs. You only went out like this because you thought the konbini run would be quick.
He perked up when he realized who was calling out to him, and he waved to you from two people behind, his phone still in his hand.
“I was just about to text you back,” he said.
“Right,” you said, nervousness creeping back up, “the picture. It really came out well. I don’t know why, but my photos always turn out a little blurry or out of focus. I’m glad I took a good one of you smiling though.”
Was that what you meant? Uramichi wondered as you stood beside him in line. How vain he was to think that you were commenting on his looks.
You were right to buy a scratcher. Maybe you’d buy a lottery ticket too depending on Uramichi’s next answer.
You walked side-by-side while leaving the konbini, waiting for its little jingle to stop before you asked him, “Wanna come over to my place since I’m close?” You tried to downplay your eagerness to be with him by highlighting your proximity to the konbini.
Perhaps now was Uramichi’s time to live up to his threats, and yet guilt panged at him and kicked at his heart. As much of an irresponsible manchild he was, Usahara shouldn’t be left piss drunk on the streets.
“I can’t,” he said immediately.
“Yeah, it’s late,” you tried to play it off. What were you thinking? He probably wanted to go back to his place and sleep.
“No, it’s not that. I’m bringing someone back to my place.”
Uramichi might as well have shat on your scratcher, along with your heart.
He was taking home another woman? You really didn’t think he was the type. Should you tell him off? But it wasn’t as if you two were a thing to begin with.
Unsure of what that expression on your face meant, Uramichi further explained himself, pointing at the dumbass whose face practically melted into the table.
That’s who he was taking home. The weird guy that winked at you at the dinner party? The one that tried to get between you and Uramichi at the studio? Here Usahara was, cockblocking again.
“He had too much to drink,” he said before mumbling to Usahara, “Get your ass up.” Weakly, Usahara stood while Uramichi shoulders most of his weight, picking up the taller man with ease.
“I’ll walk you home though.”
You looked at him skeptically. You knew that Uramichi was strong, but carrying Usahara for a few more blocks sounded exhausting. “Are you sure you won’t be tired? I can call you a cab from my place.”
Did it make him, Usahara, or both of them look bad if Uramichi said that he was used to it? Besides, if he miraculously got tired, accidentally dropped Usahara into a bush, and needed to recuperate at your house alone, then that would be karma giving the blond what he deserved.
“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry about us.”
Taking Uramichi’s bag from him, you commented, “You’re always walking me home, but when can I actually bring you back to my place?” Making a joke of your blunders was the only way you could face him. You swung both bags as you walked.
He shut your suggestion down quickly. “I have a high alcohol tolerance, so I doubt that'll ever happen,”
Was he really brushing you off that blatantly? “You know what I’m saying, right? I just want to be sure.”
Uramichi was puzzled. “You’re talking about bringing me back to your place because I’m too drunk to get back to my own.”
You shook your head. “No, bringing someone back to your place usually means you’re bringing them home with you to fuck.”
Perhaps you should have used a less crude word in your explanation. Uramichi went into a full stop right before your apartment building.
“Fuck…?” Was this what you wanted all this time? Were you actually flirting with him instead of being friendly? “You…?”
Fuck you? Why was Uramichi saying fuck you? That wasn’t directed at him, right? Usahara wondered. His senpai wasn’t one to swear–especially compared to Kumatani’s potty mouth–but maybe he said or did someone to push Uramichi over the edge. Everything was a blur after that third round of shochu though.
Usahara opened his eyes to see concrete instead of the izakaya they were hanging out at. He followed a strange pair of shoes beside Uramichi’s, looking up until he saw you. Gasping, he straightened up, twisting Uramichi’s arm with the movement.
“I guess someone sobered up?” Uramichi glowered, rubbing at his arm.
“Why did you say fuck you? To her? Dude, Mich, what do you have against her?” Usahara asked frantically.
Both you and Uramichi stared, trying to decipher Usahra’s drunken blabbering. He was mumbling nonsense and working himself up, but the last word he clearly said was nauseous. You directed Uramichi towards a trash can in front of your building, but it was too late. Usahara puked on Uramichi’s shirt and pants.
You tried not to gag while Uramichi tried to control his anger. Usahara, meanwhile, was fighting for his life, swallowing down the remnants of his sickness.
“You definitely need to come inside,” you told them. “I’ll clean your shirt.”
–
Uramichi dumped Usahara on your couch with as little grace as possible, rolling his shoulders before evaluating the mess the blond had made. You pushed a trash can by his face and set the anti-hangover drink and Pocari beside him.
“Ya think he’ll be okay if we leave him alone for a bit?” You asked Uramichi. Usahara was knocked out again, but that unexpected puke session made you nervous.
“Despite his name, he’s built like a roach. If Usahara’s body truly was as weak as it looks, he would have been dead by now.”
Oof, that was harsh, but you’d probably feel the same if your friend threw up on you.
“Let’s get you cleaned up first,” you said, taking Uramichi to the bathroom.
(Un)luckily, it seemed like the mess was a mixture of stomach acid and alcohol, despite the putrid smell.
“It might be easier if you take off your clothes and I spray it down with the shower head,” you said, hoping that he didn’t think there were any perverse reasons behind your suggestion.
Cautiously, Uramichi removed his shirt and pants, throwing it in the tub. You busied yourself by detaching the showerhead and hosed them down, stopping the water when it looked clean enough. Leaning over the tub, you wrung out any excess water.
You were so caught up in what you were doing that you forgot what you asked Uramichi to do. His boxers teased at what you missed out on last weekend. The water dripped onto the bathmat as you stood in a trance. You had to leave before your fantasies become intrusive.
“I’m gonna throw these in the wash real quick,” you said, slipping past him and that solid core.
“Do you wanna wash up?” You asked him, returning with a clearer mind. You didn’t give Uramichi time to answer, shoving a towel into his arms, and you quickly showed him the settings.
As steam filled the room, Uramichi looked at the neatly folded pair of clothes you left behind. Were these your ex’s clothes? They were certainly not women’s clothes, he thought, as a flash of annoyance hit him.
Sighing, he let the warm water hit his back as he looked at various bottles for the body wash. Giving the correct bottle a few pumps, he lathered the liquid onto his body. He shouldn’t be picky or bratty when imposing on you.
–
With Uramichi in the shower, you checked on Usahara snoozing away on your couch. It was somewhat irritating watching the blond sleep, a slight smile on his face as drool dripped out of the corner of his mouth. You’d have to scrub the cushions later.
This fucker–whether he realized it or not–was always getting in your way. You couldn’t be too harsh on him though, at least not tonight. If it weren’t for him, Uramichi would have walked you home and left, leaving you two to go on your separate ways.
“Is he doing alright?” Uramichi asked, drying his hair with the smaller towel you provided.
You jumped at the sound of his voice, giving him a startled response that turned into bashfulness. “Yeah, he’s just–um,” You turned around to face the blond instead of him. “He’s doing fine. Drooling quite a bit though.”
From behind, you missed the face that Uramichi made, sighing as he admitted that Usahara did that often.
“You’re a good friend,” you told him before moving past him so you could bring him some tea.
Uramichi declined, saying that he got himself something at the konbini too.
“It’ll take another 30 - 45 minutes for your clothes to dry, so…” You trailed off, unsure if you should say your heart’s desires out loud. Uramichi had to want something too, coming out like that, right?
Sparing him a glance, you watched as he ran a hand through his damp hair, shaking some droplets onto his skin. They cascaded down the thick muscles of his torso until they were stopped by the towel loosely wrapped around his hips. You could see a peek of the black band of his boxers.
You swallowed. “Do you wanna lay in bed while we wait? Besides, I owe you from last time.”
How could Uramichi forget? His sheets smelled like you for a few days after, and he was pleased to smell like you right now. He silently followed you to your bed.
Well, this’ll be awkward, you thought, as you stared at your bed, now realizing the consequences of your suggestion. Uramichi would lay in bed with you in his underwear.
“Um, ifit’salrightwithyou,” you spoke quickly, “couldyoutakeoffthetowel? I don’t want my sheets to get wet.”
He nodded, “That’s fine,” and complied with your request.
“You can’t really see anything from the couch,” you over-explained, motioning to the large bookcase partition that divided the room into unequal parts. If someone really did want to look, they’d have to look through the gaps in each cubby space. “Though, we’d just have to keep our voices down.”
Uramichi sat at the edge of the bed and leaned back, making you curse yourself for dimming the overhead lights. The only light that shone was from the TV, and with it, you could only make out the shadows of his body.
Your words kept playing in his head since you said it, silenced only when you two were speaking or he was lost in anxious thinking. When can I actually bring you back to my place? Bringing someone back to your place usually means you’re bringing them home with you to fuck.
Uramichi truly was a fool when it came to love. Until now he hadn’t considered your intentions. He only knew that he enjoyed your time together. Things were starting to make sense: why you kissed him, the odd statements that you’d sometimes throw out, how sometimes you’d act self-conscious.
“Are you saying that because you want to fuck me?”
You were at a loss for words. Your only options were to deny it or admit it. You’d been wishing for weeks that Uramichi would understand what you were getting at, and now that he did, you didn’t know what to say.
Quietly, you confessed, “Yes.”
He hummed. So that’s what you wanted from him. His dreams of domestic bliss were simply that–dreams. Maybe it was wishful thinking, or maybe he was pathetic–it all depended on one’s perspective–but he thought he’d be satisfied with this if it was with you.
“Come here then,” he said, settling in your bed.
Your mind raced as you crawled into his lap, straddling him. He stopped you as your hand was pulling up your shirt.
“I didn’t mean now. I just… I wanted to know why,” he said at your confusion. “My friend’s asleep in the other room.”
It was almost as if he was chastising you for your eagerness, yet instead of embarrassment you were even more turned on. It was one of those things where the more forbidden it was, the hotter it seemed.
“We can kiss though,” he offered.
He must have used your mouth wash. Uramichi’s breath tasted like spearmint as you kissed, lips pressing against each other hard as your tongues explored. Your hands wandered too, pressing into his chest before taking his to guide them where you wanted.
Uramichi’s hips rolled into yours as he squeezed your ass. You could feel the entirety of his length, but you took more interest in his girth. You’d seen a hint of it–felt it too–last week, but rubbing against it was something else entirely. You whined into the kiss, shifting in his lap to get the most friction.
“You said we had to keep our voices down,” he whispered hotly into your ear, “but here you are being noisy.”
He spoke in that matter-of-fact tone of his, not unusual from his typical manner of speech. This time, like earlier, had the same effect on you. There was this underlying current of power between you, and it was clear that Uramichi had the upper hand.
“Mhm,” you mumbled into his neck. “I did.” You pressed your body into his to ease this ache you felt. “It’s hard not to be when you’re teasing me like this though.”
Both your heads were swimming, and you clung onto each other for comfort. For a moment, Uramichi thought his resolve would break at your words. If you asked, then and there, for him to fuck you into the mattress, Uramichi would have given you everything you asked for, but you didn’t. He placed a kiss to the side of your mouth.
“I can’t help it,” he told you, grateful for the poor lighting. He was certain his face was flushed. “I missed you.”
You peppered his neck with little kisses before looking up at him. “If you miss me, you’re not supposed to be mean about it.”
“When I miss you again,”–Ugh, your heart skipped with the words that he chose–“I’ll be good to you the next time we meet.”
You kissed on his promise.
–
Uramichi woke up feeling refreshed, proud that he even woke up before his alarm. His room was nice and dark too. He decided then to sleep for a few more minutes. He snuggled into his pillow but it felt odd. Lifting up his head and waiting for his eyes to adjust, he realized that his head was resting on your tits while his legs wrapped around yours.
“Mornin’,” you yawned, stretching and flexing against his body. “Sleep okay?” You asked, blindly reaching for your phone to check the time.
He hadn’t heard that question in years. Work trips where he had to share his room didn’t count of course. Internally, he jumped with joy, feeling as if he could take on the day after speaking to you.
“Really good, actually,” he said. “I haven’t felt this well rested in months.”
You laughed, flipping your phone screen back to how you found it. It was still too early–6 am to be exact. “Is that so? You should sleep here more often then.”
He mumbled in agreement before asking for his phone. Uramichi checked his messages, relieved that he didn’t miss anything important. There were three messages from Nekota freaking out about having his kids early the next day (which was today actually), one from Kumatani saying that he got home, and another, oddly enough from Hachita, thanking Uramichi for always looking after his brother. What Uramichi was worried about the most was Usahara waking up in the middle of the night. He hadn’t even realized that he himself fell asleep in your bed.
“Thanks for everything,” he said, feeling himself grow hot once more as he recounted what you did last night. The heavy petting and make out session was enough to temporarily whet both your desires. He knew he shouldn’t stay longer lest they grew once more. “But I have to go.” His eyes glanced through the bookcase to where Usahara laid.
Giving a quiet whine in protest, you got out of bed first, venturing towards the dryer to get his clothes.
Once dressed, Uramichi took on the task of waking up Usahara.
“We gotta go,” he told him, pinching Usahara’s nose. The younger man snorted but continued to sleep. “Seriously,” he said, this time poking at his ribs.
“Huh? Wha–ouch! Whadda’hell man?”
Uramichi continued to poke him until Usahara actually sat up. Blearily, he rubbed at his eyes taking in his surroundings. The room was dark but clearly not Uramichi’s apartment. Had he… Had he finally scored with a girl?! No, he realized as Uramichi glared at him. If he did, Uramichi would definitely not be there.
“Where are we? I don’t–I uh–” before Usahara could finish his sentence, Uramichi shoved the anti-hangover drink down his throat.
“We’ll talk later. Let’s just say a konbini angel was looking after us, but I’d hate to intrude any longer. Get up.”
“Konbini angel? What?” Usahara laughed. “You still drunk, dude? You’re not making any sense.”
Ushering him to the door, Uramichi turned back to mouth ‘goodbye’ at you from your spot behind the partition. He insisted that it’d be easier–and quieter–for everyone if Usahara didn’t see you.
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