“Let go.” Miyadate growled, but it came out more like an exhausted whimper than a snarl.
Watanabe’s hand remained tight on Miyadate’s arm.
“What's wrong with you? Are you angry with what I've said? But I was right! Hikaru-san won't have gotten hurt if you haven't gotten yourself so wasted! And why were you drinking? I've never heard of you getting drunk before.”
“It's none of your business.” Miyadate gritted out, turning his head away.
“Of course it's my business! I'm a member now! I'm not going to sit around-”
“If you're so concerned about Hikaru-san, you could have stayed with him in the hospital instead of venting your frustrations at me all the way here. Why did you come back with me anyway?” Miyadate’s voice sounded hoarse as he cut into Watanabe’s words.
Watanabe loosened his grip on Miyadate in surprise.
“I'm not- I-” For once, the eloquent Watanabe was at a loss for words.
“Just go home. I need to rest.” Miyadate said, turning to walk into his bedroom, not even caring if Watanabe would let himself out.
“Wait.” Watanabe tried again, grabbing Miyadate’s shoulder, earning an audible gasp of pain from the sniper this time.
Watanabe removed his hand as if scalded.
“Are you hurt?”
“It's none of your business.” Miyadate repeated, but the earlier bite was gone, replaced with only a defeated sigh.
“Please, take off your shirt.” Watanabe chewed his bottom lip worriedly as he followed Miyadate into the latter’s bedroom.
Miyadate sat down on his bed wordlessly, but he unbuttoned his black shirt and let the cloth slipped down his shoulders.
Watanabe grimaced at the sight before him. Miyadate’s back was covered with ugly bruises, in various shades of blue-black, and some areas even had dried blood caked to the torn skin, evidence of the sniper being harshly beaten up by the rival gang members during the fight earlier.
Watanabe sighed inwardly; he had been blaming Miyadate for Iwamoto earning a gunshot during the chaos, but he now knew that Miyadate had tried to protect their leader as well as he could before help could arrive after Iwamoto had fallen.
“I'll get the first aid kit.” Watanabe said, going around Miyadate’s apartment to retrieve the medical supplies, freshly rinsed towels, before sitting down behind Miyadate on the mattress.
It took a while, for Watanabe to attend to all of Miyadate’s wounds; he had insisted Miyadate to strip out of his pants too leaving only his boxers on and the sniper complied, too tired to care about his state of undress.
No words were spoken between them until Watanabe packed the remaining gauze back into the kit, locking the box.
“Thank you.” Miyadate’s voice was soft this time round, sincere.
Miyadate met Watanabe’s eyes as the informant called his name.
“I've been bartending at your restaurant long enough to know your drinking habits. Are you unhappy about something? Has it got to do with Hikaru-san assigning me to be your partner during missions?” Watanabe asked the question in his mind since he found their leader lying unconscious in a hospital bed and one of the gang’s top fighters hunched over on the seat beside. “Because if you think I'm not good enough to work alongside with you, I can-”
“Why did you join our gang, Shota?” Miyadate cut into Watanabe’s words the second time tonight.
Watanabe blinked at Miyadate, he did not expect that question.
“Hikaru-san told me he’s been asking you to join us for years, but you've always rejected him, preferring to work solo to get varied sources of information more easily. You never liked working for someone else, with someone else. What has changed? I thought it was because of Hikaru-san saving your life that first time he carried you to my house, but he doesn’t think so. Did you join our gang because of Hikaru-san? Or was it because of something else? Someone else?” Miyadate looked at the informant, gaze as focused as he was aiming at a target.
“You.” Watanabe answered Miyadate’s question honestly, having hardly heard the quiet sniper rambled so much at one go.
It was Miyadate’s turn to blink as he wondered if he heard Watanabe correctly. “Me?”
“Yes, it was because of you. You intrigued me. I've heard a lot of stories about you before I met you. One of the top three fighters in Yamaishi Gang, the cold blooded dead shot who has never missed a target. You were supposed to be this merciless and unfeeling man who kills without batting an eyelid. But you cooked me porridge the first time I met you, fed me and kept my fever down with fresh towels through the night. You took notice of my picky eating habits, made sure I ate enough, and nursed me back to health. And then I got introduced to Abe-chan, Hagi-chan and Hashimo-chan, and it’s clear that you treat them like a family. You’re not whom I thought you would be, Date-san. And the more I know you, the more I want to learn about you, to get closer to you.” Watanabe returned Miyadate’s gaze steadily. “I think I’ve gotten addicted to you, Date-san.”
It was a while before Miyadate spoke again. “Oh.”
The single word reply cracked the serious mood in the room, and Watanabe threw back his head in laughter. “You’ve always been a man of few words.”
“Can I kiss you?” Miyadate’s next words turned Watanabe’s laughter into an amused smile instead.
“I prefer it when you go all decisive like you’re aiming for a target. Come and take it.” Watanabe’s eyes gleamed like all those times he had teased the sniper.
This time, Miyadate took the hint and wrapped one arm around Watanabe’s slim waist, pulling the informant closer as he used his other hand to cup Watanabe’s face, tilting the latter’s face before finally placing his lips over the informant’s.
The kiss started off gentle and soft, and it left Watanabe’s head spinning because it was finally happening. Watanabe’s hands found their way to Miyadate’s arms, careful of the latter’s shoulders and back which were still covered in bruises.
The kiss got deeper when Watanabe opened his mouth, licking into Miyadate’s mouth, curling his tongue around Miyadate’s, pushing the sniper to take charge. And Miyadate understood, sucking on Watanabe’s tongue and a soft moan escaped from the latter. Miyadate slipped his hands lower, until they reached the hem of Watanabe’s shirt, slipping his fingers underneath. Watanabe held onto Miyadate’s biceps tighter and moaned encouragingly.
Miyadate withdrew from the kiss and when Watanabe was just about to whine about the loss, the sniper trailed his lips slowly down the informant’s neck, before stopping at the spot where Watanabe’s neck met his shoulders.
“Date-san.” Watanabe groaned as Miyadate’s teeth grazed his skin, plush mouth nipping against the spot. Watanabe shifted one of his hands to comb through Miyadate’s strands of hair, fingers pressing against the sniper’s scalp. “More…”
Miyadate pulled back then, looking at Watanabe contemplatively. Watanabe’s lips were parted, still moist and swollen from Miyadate’s kisses, a pink flush across his cheeks, and there was a red bruise blossoming on the pale skin on his neck. Miyadate liked how Watanabe looked. A lot.
Miyadate brought his hands to the front of Watanabe’s shirt, flicking the buttons opened in a few quick strokes. He thought of leaving Watanabe’s clothes on for further foreplay, but the informant had run out of patience, getting rid of his own clothes before Miyadate could even blink.
“I'm not sure if I want to sleep with you if you continue to act like an old man.”
Miyadate chuckled at Watanabe’s words as he too pulled off his boxers.
Satisfied, Watanabe lowered himself onto Miyadate’s bed, pulling the sniper down on top of himself.
Watanabe fit their mouths together this time, sucking sweetly on Miyadate’s bottom lip, bucking his hips up to rub against the sniper’s crotch. Miyadate groaned into Watanabe’s willing mouth, grinding back eagerly.
Miyadate felt more than saw when one of Watanabe’s hand left his butt, banging against his nightstand.
Miyadate broke their kiss. “What?”
“Open the drawer.” Watanabe gasped out.
Miyadate frowned. “How did you know I keep my lube and condoms there?”
Watanabe smirked. “I’m not the best informant in town for nothing. I have all kinds information on hand.”
“Then do you know how I feel about you?” Miyadate asked seriously.
The smug look faded from Watanabe’s face. “I’d still like to hear it from you.”
“I want you to be mine.”
Watanabe smiled, a rare sweet and shy smile. “I think I can agree to that.”
Miyadate sealed Watanabe’s lips with a fierce kiss before finally reaching over, pulling open the drawer, taking out the necessary items.
He unscrewed the lid of the lube, squirting a good amount onto his palm, coating his fingers to prepare Watanabe. The informant spread his legs to give Miyadate better access. Miyadate’s fingers were cold when they pressed against Watanabe’s puckered rim. Watanabe twitched, the muscles of his entrance clenching. Miyadate slipped in one finger, slowly, carefully.
“Faster.” There was a whine in Watanabe’s voice as his hand came up to rub against the warm skin behind Miyadate’s neck.
Miyadate compiled, adding another finger, scissoring them. Watanabe opened his mouth to breathe, his hips pushing down on Miyadate’s fingers rhythmically. Miyadate crooked his fingers inside Watanabe, brushing over the latter’s prostate and the informant cried out, the moan vibrating through both their bodies. Watanabe’s eyes fluttered close as Miyadate continued to stimulate him, leaving him breathless.
There was the sound of movement and Miyadate’s fingers slipped out of Watanabe’s body. Watanabe blinked opened his eyes dazedly, and Miyadate brushed Watanabe’s sweaty hair out of his face, fanning them against the pillow.
The intense way Miyadate was looking down at Watanabe made the informant’s heart thumped wildly against his chest. Before Watanabe could look even more embarrassed, he busied himself by reaching over for the packet of condom on the bed, tearing open the foil with his teeth. He handed it to Miyadate and the sniper pumped himself with a few quick strokes before rolling on the rubber, lathering his cock with the remaining lube.
Watanabe’s hands travelled down to Miyadate’s love handles as the tip of Miyadate’s cock pressed against his entrance. For a moment, Watanabe forgot to breathe, meeting Miyadate’s focused eyes as he rolled his hips forward, breaching into Watanabe in one smooth stroke.
Watanabe clenched his jaw and his fingers tightened around Miyadate flesh.
Miyadate pressed a feather light kiss against Watanabe’s cheek. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” The reply took a moment and Watanabe’s voice was tight. But his eyes were bright, lips curving into a beautiful arc.
Miyadate kissed the corner of Watanabe’s mouth and Watanabe tilted his head, catching Miyadate’s lips, mouth falling open as Miyadate started to move. The kiss was demanding as they claimed each other’s mouth again and again, their hips meeting each other thrust for thrust.
Watanabe’s cock was arching, dripping precome onto his stomach, his toes curling at the friction Miyadate was creating inside him. “Touch me.” Watanabe begged, droplets of sweat trailing down the side of his face.
Miyadate’s hand moved from cupping Watanabe’s face to wrap around the informant’s cock. The sniper smeared the precome down Watanabe’s shaft, pumping his fist at the same pace he was driving into Watanabe’s body.
Watanabe’s body was trembling underneath him, hips losing the rhythm. “Date-san…”
“Ryota.” Miyadate rasped out, his voice low. “Call me Ryota.”
“Ryota-” Whatever else Watanabe wanted to say was lost as he buried himself into Miyadate’s chest, white come spraying onto their stomachs as his muscles spasmed, pleasure coursing through his body.
Watanabe’s body was wonderfully tight around Miyadate; a familiar heat was coiling low in Miyadate’s stomach, and the sniper could feel his own balls tightening. Miyadate continued thrusting into Watanabe’s clenching heat as his hand pumped the informant through the latter’s orgasm, drawing it out.
“Ryota.” Watanabe murmured, a lisp in his voice. “Ryota.”
Miyadate made a choked sound that sounded a lot like “Shota” as he finally stilled inside Watanabe, breathing heavily against the informant’s neck, his cock pulsing hot with his release inside Watanabe’s body.
It was a moment before they caught their breaths again and Miyadate lifted himself up carefully, pulling out of Watanabe’s sensitive body. He rolled off the condom and threw it into the bin next to his bed.
“Will you stay?” Miyadate asked as he settled onto the bed on his stomach, lying beside Watanabe.
There might be more to the sniper’s question, but for now, it was simple and Watanabe knew the answer. “Yeah, I will.”
And this time, it was Watanabe who leaned forward to kiss Miyadate.
Hours later, Miyadate drifted into consciousness at the sound of rustling next to him. He cracked open his eye and rolled onto his side.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?” Watanabe asked, his hair was mussed from sleep as he climbed back onto the bed after coming back from the bathroom.
Miyadate shook his head, sitting up, leaning against the headboard.
“How's your back?” Watanabe asked as he grabbed the pack of cigarettes on Miyadate’s nightstand.
“I'll help you reapply the medicine again later.” Watanabe said, picking out a stick and lighting it up, taking a puff.
He offered the cigarette to Miyadate and the latter took it, inhaling the smoke before passing it back to Watanabe.
They were almost finishing the shared stick when Watanabe spoke again. “I nearly joined a gang before.”
Miyadate made a noise in his throat to show that he was listening.
“But the leader was murdered right before I joined and it became really messy after that.”
Miyadate handed the stick to the informant and Watanabe took a final drag before crushing the butt against the ashtray on the nightstand.
“So, I didn't want to join a gang after that. And now that I'm in one, I don't want to see the leader being finished off again.”
“Hikaru-san is stronger than that.” Miyadate defended loyally.
“And I won't ever let that happen again.” Miyadate promised.
There was something in Watanabe’s voice that made Miyadate tilted his head to look beside him and he was right, the other was smiling indeed.
airplanewishes, it's your turn.