#anyways. special shoutout to the not yet mentioned headboard

[shih-coulda-had-it]

165 nanahiko 😁

165. "Look, I hate my neighbors. If they're going to bang against the wall, so are we." | nanahiko | wc: ~800

a/n: nominally a time before husbando Shimura entered the picture.

//

Nana yanks Sorahiko into her studio with that same frazzled expression that she stormed into their agency with hours ago. She doesn’t let go of his hand as she throws her front door shut and locks it.

“Listen!” she hisses, and gestures to the wall adjacent to her, quote on quote, overcompensating neighbors. He restrains himself from laughing at her and tilts his head, indulging--

A loud slap comes through the wall. A high-pitched, euphoric wail can be heard too, as well as a lower-pitched stream of absolute garbage porn lines. And then, with hardly any pause, a rhythmic thump kicks into hearing range.

“Uh,” says Sorahiko, feeling his ears burn. He steps out of his boots and watches Nana do the same. “So you weren’t kidding.”

“I wasn’t fucking kidding!” Nana seethes. She glares at the connecting wall as though she can shame the happy couple (?) into a subdued afterglow, then stalks through the small living space--advertised as just perfect for either a single individual or a minimalist-inclined couple--to her bed. Towed along after her, Sorahiko is bewildered to realize that Nana’s bed happens to be situated right where the neighbors are fucking.

Which means the noises get louder, and more coherent.

“I thought they were trying to bait me into having a threesome with them,” she says. “But when I bumped into the guy in the lobby, he didn’t even give me a second look. And then the woman actually warned me off her ‘sweet Maru-kun’!”

“Okay? Why don’t you just hit the wall back?”

“Because then they accused me of interrupting their intimate activities. With no proof that I needed some quiet.”

They reach her bed. Nana lets go of his hand only to start stripping, briskly unzipping her jeans and shimmying out of them, and then pulling her shirt over her head. A plain set of lingerie presents itself to Sorahiko, whose mouth has gone very, very dry.

It’s not like he didn’t know what Nana’s scheme was, when he accepted her proposal to ‘get back’ at her lustful neighbors.

“Well?”

Sorahiko fumbles for the right way to phrase his consent. “Yeah. Yeah--sure. Yep.” He shrugs off his jacket and slings it over to a reading chair. “I thought your idea was to host the loudest two-person game night,” he jokes, unbuckling his belt and untucking his collared shirt.

He stutters on an exhale when after Nana scoffs, she reaches forward and starts plucking the little plastic buttons. There’s a certain keen focus in her storm-gray eyes; Sorahiko shivers, and impulsively pulls the rubber band holding her half up-do together, lets it roll onto his wrist like a bracelet and combs the soft fall of her hair with his fingers.

“That was an option,” she confirms. She finishes with his shirt. “But, uh… Look, I hate my neighbors. If they’re going to bang against the wall, so are we.”

“And that’s justice,” he teases.

“It is if we do it right!”

Nana hops into bed as if they do this every night (they absolutely do not), using Float to more easily propel herself into the center. She drops. Her knees make indents in the duvet, and she beckons Sorahiko to hurry up, a sharp grin on her face.

He huffs out a laugh, obeys, toppling in after her; he leaves his boxers on, though, like she’s left her underwear on. Like the whole banging thing is still on the negotiating table, a white elephant sitting pretty on a bed.

Next door, a shriek of, “I’M COMING~” peals through the air.

“Not to disappoint you,” says Sorahiko, dry as dust, “but I feel like getting hard in these circumstances is unlikely.”

“I’ll get you there,” says Nana brazenly, as if her grin didn’t turn forced at the sound. The distance between them dwindles to a few spare centimeters, no man’s land that Nana crosses first. Between one breath and the next her lips are on his.

It’s warm. Slightly wet. Sorahiko strangles the reflex to gasp and closes his eyes, trying to feel out the way forward. A tilt of the head, a slight muscle tremor to signal that he’s open, he’s ready to take whatever Nana gives…

She presses him to lie down and backs off just as his head hits a pillow. “A little further up,” she whispers under the sound of her neighbor’s groans. Sorahiko obliges, blindly. It gets him another kiss. This one lasts longer, hotter.

Nana’s hand, fitted on his jaw, gently urging it to untense. Her leg, sliding between his and grinding against his dick, which is stirring to attention.

A break in the kiss, so she can whisper, “I’m gonna need you to be loud too, Sorahiko,” and she bends her head and nips at his throat.

“Okay,” says Sorahiko, ragged. “Get me there, then.”