Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A cold evening, the bridge, every small gist of wind slowly distorted the cigarette smoke. With a silent agreement you both pressed your shoulders over each other. Forearms and elbows perched over the rails and feet sometimes shuffling over the brick ground. 

Eventually bored of the still water view, you turned your eyes to Morita's. Unlike you, he could keep still a lot longer, stare into nothing for a lot more time, slower. His eyes were dim - just as dim was the tinted glass between you too. 

You noticed some of the ash slowly falling down from his cigarette. Your own must be already half-way through without much need to inhale. Just slowly melting down into ashes. 

Morita looked dreamy - he was a dream in a sense. He always looks so collected and busy, yet here he stands next to you and you share the smallest warmth against the evening in the autumn chill. His head is preoccupied and his expression is blank. He must be busy planning the week or a day ahead - when you slowly reach out. 

Taking a cigarette from his mouth you feel as if your own is already falling from your half-opened mouth. After all, you didn't care for it much... ash that fell into the river water now dispersed along with smoking paper, filter and all. 

You hold Morita's cigarette very carefully though. Almost gently, as if it could substitute his hand in yours. Tenderly, so it would not crumble. 

His eyes are down and Morita didn't even question your gesture, instead putting his chin over his hands next. Exhaling what seems to be vapor of his breath. It must be chilly now, after the sun has set. 

With the smallest squeak of varnished shoes you stand on the tips of your toes. With the tiniest shuffle of the suit's fabric you put your hand at his shoulder. And with the smallest clink of displaced glasses frame you slowly plant a kiss over his temple. Right at the edge of the sideburns. 

Morita turns his head and there is a very small sparkle of appreciation in them. Just a small one, like a click of a lighter that doesn't start the fire. You smile and squint your eyes, though he would not see. And closing this small distance between you both, you slowly kiss. 

No excitement, no wind anymore, just a very small space of shared warmth. Just some ash falling down and no embrace. Just two tired men at the bridge with the murky water running under it. 

Behind your backs the park's street lamps light up with an electric buzz.

Chapter Text

Fidgeting with his lighter, Morita stands under the arc leading to the street outside. It rained just now and the drops are still falling from the roofs’ edges and all the yet to glow neon signs of closed bars. The arch shelters him and separates from the pavement road where the crowd walks past. A door to stands closed behind his back in a meter or two.

Morita nervously bites into the filter and curses under his breath. Taking the cigarette out he crumbles it in his fingers. 

Throwing it to the ground doesn't help much, because as soon as he thinks about stomping it, he instead lowers to lift it up with a sigh. Soggy from a puddle mess of paper and tobacco that he holds makes his hand dirty and he looks around to find the nearest trash bin. 

Getting rid of the mess, he sighs and leans at the arch. The drops are still falling sometimes and his cheek presses to the cold wall. Maybe the rain will come again soon. 

Lifting up his eyes to the night sky, he tries and fails to see stars. After all, they never show up in the city full of night lights. He pouts to no one. He forgot the umbrella this time around.

Sighing again, Morita leans off and stands upright. Pushing his hands over his hair, he tries to believe not a single strand is off as he runs them over his head. Swaying his head from side to side he feels the brush of the ponytail tapping over his shoulders once or twice. He then straightens his lapels and finally puts hands into the pockets of his pants. 

He can do it.

Just a few steps and he's already standing next to the door inside. Morita puts hand on the handle and takes another breath.

He can. He not only can, but he also will.

Turning the handle down the door opens with a creak. 

— Ah! Don't scare me like that-

It seems you both have opened the door at the same time. 

Unlike him, you have an umbrella in your hand though. It's still closed and Morita doesn't even move to the side to open the way. 

— We need to talk.

— At the door? Let's talk while we walk to the bar, - you tap his shoulder and flash him a smile.

Morita averts his eyes unsurely and you watch his expression. 

Surely he can do it, it's just... preferably not on the street or in public like at the bar—

Your smile slowly fades but not completely - Morita looks troubled. You slowly reach out with your hand but he catches it in the middle with his own. Then wraps it with his second one on top of it.

— I have something to tell you.

Morita instead takes a step ahead and you hesitantly take one back. And so you both once again stand inside the doorframe. 

— It's just that-

Morita puts a hand over the door's handle once again, this time from the inside.

— Sorry, can I start over?

You let out a small chuckle. You already got a gist of it.

— Yeah. Go ahead.

— Sorry um- I was thinking-

Morita closes the door with a creak and the rest of the words die down to the noise of the street outside. 

The rain didn't fall again that night.

Chapter Text

My favourite—

Your eyes glisten, but you don't say anything. You oh so try to not eye the showcase of the store and take a sharp turn of your head. 

Seems like Morita saw that though. Getting curious, he eyes the store, but also stops in his tracks. And with that you just take a step to the side then run to the showcase. No need denying it now when he saw.

— That is my favourite...!

You push both of your hands over the glass and plainly drool over the chocolate fountain displayed behind it. It has the melted sweet, falling down in waves, and the foundation of it is adored in fruits and pieces of other treats that were dipped into the chocolate beforehand. 

As soon as an employee sees you from inside, he waves a hand with a polite smile and you wave over-excitedly in turn. Then return to being plastered over the glass wall. just watching the melting chocolate fall down and trying not to drool over the glass that’s already spoiled by your handprints now.

— It's called fondue, right? 

You nod, nod, nod. Morita who's standing behind you, slowly leans closer, just to see the treats that are sold there for presents. Thinks which of the fruits are good or bad choice to dip into the chocolate like that—

— Come and buy yourself a few, if you like it so much, - Morita shrugs, not sensing what's all the excitement about.

— No, you don't get it, - you point your finger to the foggy glass you've left with your breath, right at the level of the fountain top itself.

— I want to eat it hot, while the chocolate is still melting and dripping from it, - you draw a heart with a tip of a finger clad in leather, right at the window’s foggy surface, - I want it straight from the chocolate fountain itself.

Morita sighs and probably shakes his head just as well - but you don't take his criticism. 

Leaning off from the glass and even if still touching it with your hands, you just watch it blankly with a bitter smile.

— Maybe one day.

You lean away and take a step to the side, continuing the walk then. Morita stands there eyeing the chocolate fountain one more time, before starting to catch up as well. He doesn't like chocolate and the sweets are indifferent to him. 

He will make you cacao at home though. And he will remember that you like the chocolate fondue just as well. 

He just wouldn't show it, up until the time comes.

Chapter Text

— No, you can't have my ice cream.

Playful smirk, a crooked tooth of a fang showing up from under the lopsided upper lip, right where it gnaws into the ice on a stick. 

Morita's pouty - he doesn't avert his eyes though.

— Though... You can lick off the drops that fell, - you tell and lift your other hand with a bracelet with a seashell jingling. It's the same palm that you held under your chin so the drops won't get your shorts sticky. It was a funny tease until Morita grabbed your wrist. 

And until his tongue pressed over the hot pulse, and until you almost bit into the ice cream all too hard, because his tongue traced it up to your palm. 

Morita did that poker faced side-eye glance as his whole face was pressing into your palm - with his tongue out, visible, lower.

— Don't eat me out on the beach! - you spring into action and try to get your hand back, but instead, it seems, you played into his hand. 

Because by the next second his other hand is tugging the already low hanging collar of your Hawaiian shirt down. 

— Too late, - he says and his hand holds your chin way too high as Morita holds your face in place, hand grabbing your jaw.

— I'm taking it, - he says and instead of the melting ice cream that he could have already gotten ahold of - he puts the same hot tongue over one of your collarbones. 

His whole head hiding your view down, as he bites into the tender skin, untouched by the edge of the tattoo ink. Next your vision swims- because you think that Morita did that on purpose, just because you said the lamest line you could - as if you had huge boobs and the ice cream actually could've dropped some melting beads over your chest. He just used your own game as an excuse.

— Morita-kun, it'll fall off the stick...

He doesn't hesitate to both lift his head and open his mouth to your view, as well as plainly wrap his hands around your shoulders, draped over your frame from behind, chest pressed into your back. Half-naked, you have to add.

Alright, here, yeah, get your ice cream and leave me be - because you're just too hot to be wrapping me into your bear hug on top of the summer heat.

Finally, Morita just takes the ice cream into his mouth, a wooden stick placed between fingers, and lets the ice pole leave his mouth with the pop sound - he sighs in content with a nice cold treat. 

Your head fumes though - because even then his other hand is laying under your wide collar, continuing to grope your chest. Even without a single handful of what to grab there, that manly hand yearns for being present there. An instinct.

Chapter Text

Biting down his tongue and rapidly pushing the stick of the arcade to the side, Morita keeps pressing the button - up until the time runs out. The useless toy is slowly slipping from the metal claw but he concentrates his eyes on it so menacingly - no way it would fall. Else something bad will happen to it personally, it seems. 

You lean over the side of the machine and smoke, even as the sign of “no smoking area" is right in front of your eyes at the opposite wall. Well, the fire alarm didn't set off - that's enough evidence that it is a smoking area for you. 

Morita slowly loses patience by your side. The next time you turn your eyes, he already pushes another coin into the slit. And oh so confidently presses down the button with a fist and the claw gets animated again.

— Oh give it up, I don't know where to find change in this hour. 

— That's quitter talk, - Morita huffs. Guess his pocket contains a few more coins then. 

You cross hands over your chest and stand there surrounded by arcade jingles and hints where to press next in an annoying high-pitched voice.

— Ugh, fuck-!

You jolt as it seems Morita just kicked the machine as his new try lost once again. You smile to his defeat and lean forward then.

— Which one do you want?

— I don't want the toy, I just want to win!

— No, I mean- which one are you targeting for so long.

Morita points a finger to the round sparrow behind the glass wall. Well, one of many, but it seems there's one that lies on top of the other now. It looks more like a finch with a bowtie.

— Yeah, that one.

You reach into his pocket and take another coin out of it. Shoving him with an elbow, you perch the cigarette between your lips and take Morita's place. With annoying high-pitched instructions the machine animates as it swallows up another coin.

Besides all that annoying loud sound, Morita watches carefully with a silence between you too. Smirking bitterly, more so concentrating on the process itself, you push the stick, as well as press the button just in time too. And with a grab of a round plush body you lift the same sparrow-finch that Morita tried to get for so long- You lift it up in a claw that once again slowly loses its grip over the round plush. It seems Morita is super stressed about that though - nearly holds himself back from putting his hands to the glass, more so holds them over his knees as he leans forward to watch.

Slowly the sparrow falls- almost next to the hole for the prize. Morita growls and curses under his breath- Then, suddenly, he sees that instead a loop of a toy is still hanging from one of the claw's fingers. Then almost tackles you to the fucking machine as soon as he notices and confirms it. 

You yelp but shove an elbow into his ribs, for the rudeness, and stand upright again - the claw returns to the hole as a default place under his watch. And when it unlocks, so does the loop fall down and the door with a prize glows up with a happy jingle and “ Congratulations ! ” voiceover.

Morita doesn't even take the toy out, he just hugs your neck and laughs. 

— I was the one who set it closer to victory!

— Yeah- I know how arcades work-

— Right, you were just lucky it got stuck!

You chuckle and take a cigarette from your mouth and push it to his face. Taking it, Morita leans off and takes an inhale from it before lowering the stub in his hand. In the meantime, you take the toy out from the prize's small door.

— It's kinda cute, did you choose it because it was easiest to get?

— Not really, I think it's one of the hardest targets actually. Because it's round.

You smirk and take his wrist into your hand. Lifting it to your face you take an inhale of the same smoke from his fingers then.

— Let's leave it on the counter for the discount then, - you reply after a pause, - And throw away the stub first. Else we're banned from here yet again.

Chapter Text

Screech of tires over the asphalt, sharp glint of sunlight dancing across the edge of a slick car that stopped right at Morita's feet, taking up space in both parking lots. Same as the edge of polished black glasses which flashed as the light hit the corner of the metal thin frame - substitution of a wink.

— Really? Ferrari?

A bonnet mascot - figure of a horse at the front center of the car's hood. 

— Yeah, wanna take a ride, baby?

A red clad of a polished metal - the Ferrari Mondial Cabriolet is a blend of elegance and performance, the exhilaration of open-air driving with unmistakable style. Mid-mounted V8 engine for boys and spacious 2+2 sitting layout for babes - Italian luxury. The crisp lines, retractable soft-top, and classic Ferrari handling. It's a timeless symbol of sophistication and performance of their brand ever since the start of the 80s. 

Also it can wink with its headlights. Which is cute. Totally not the reason you've set your eyes on this model.

— Hey, I didn't buy it, I'm not your sugar daddy, - you smirk patting the polished side of the door, - I borrowed it.

— Did you steal it? - Morita can't hide sparks of excitement in his eyes but tries to appear as unamused as he can.

— Yeah, from a leasing company, - you open the passenger seat door as he circles around the hood tracing the polished metal with his fingertips.

The answer or a retort doesn't follow. Does Morita hate leasing companies? Was it alright to steal from them—

The ride is smooth, maybe it's the uplifting feeling of driving a luxurious car, or maybe it's having wind blowing into your face and disheveling your hair. Your fringe is almost always out of place and you think you catch Morita's gaze more than usual, but you keep your eyes on the road.

The sunkissed skies and the glistering waves of the ocean below the cliff's road is the only sound it all has. The ride is as lengthy and the colour palette is the same as a strong drink of whiskey in any of the best Tokyo bars.

— Haven't been out of the city recently.

— Yeah, I tend to forget that not the whole world is made of glass windows. 

Sitting at the back of the car Morita lifted his legs and put them over the shoulder of one of the front seats. He looks nicely relaxed as a few thin strands of hair that the wind managed to untuck are swaying by the ocean breeze over his forehead. 

— I have an idea though. How to make this sunset more wonderful.

While Morita alertly sits down as you open the door to the back seats, you try to not attack him right away. He's scrambling to the opposite door with one leg already on a luxurious leather seat. It squeaks under his leather shoe and he's lowered to his elbows as you climb on top of him. Getting your hands under the lapels of his jacket is quite easy as well.

— You already know, huh? 

Seems like he was spoiled by expensive cars then. Maybe he was taken on the backseats of every possible overseas Bentley and Mercedes Benz. 

Your hands are warm to touch over his ribs. You untuck his shirt only to see his momentary shy face before—

— Get loved, you idiot, - you grin but the words don't reach his ears anymore, they're drained into the quick and loud laughter as you tickle his sides.

Morita's not only loud to laugh but also trashes around in an uncontrollable attempt to escape your hands. 

His laugh comes off in bursting gasps and he almost kicks you in your ribs but you quickly dive, then press your bodies together. Morita can only grab your shoulders and try to push you off, but you continue to tickle his unguarded ribs, sides and armpits. 

He's shaking his head and the ponytail rubs over the leather seat, gets messed up as Morita tries to fight you off and soon starts to curse, overcome with a shortage of breath.

— Stop that!! Kha-HHaha-

You smile but let him go slowly, giggle in response and eventually just embrace his back. Your hands are still under his jacket and it's so so warm that it's almost suffocating. 

Laying on Morita, whose chest is rising and falling under your cheek - your weight is insignificant to him it seems as he ignores it and tries to wipe off his face. You cross your hands under your chin and smile with content. His hand is soon to fall from the back of the seat he was desperately holding onto before settling at your shoulder - it's not to push you off anymore. He just rests with his eyes closed after laughing his ass off in the back of your temporary car.

Maybe Ginji has shown him all kinds of hotels and restaurants you can't afford. All kinds of places he took Morita to and drove him in all different kinds of cars as his chauffeur.

But, you hope, that Morita will at least remember that there was an instance in the back of the cabriolet - when someone had made him laugh instead.

Chapter Text

— One pack of cigarettes, please~

— Oh! 

The old woman selling in the kiosk doesn't seem to be annoyed about you not asking for a specific brand. She instead lets out a small laugh and moves closer to the small window, surrounded by layers of newspapers and carton packs of tobacco.

— Long time no see, youngster, - she reaches out and you put your face over your hands perched with elbows so she'd easily reach to pinch your cheek. While you laugh in turn, you also take off your glasses and swing them by the frame in one of your hands.

— 'tis fine, it's fine, - you just nod and she eventually stops.

As soon as she nods a few times in return, she also turns around to start digging for your brand. 

— Haven't seen you for a while, how's the business going? 

— Oh y'know- Busy as usual, but not all too dangerous or boring, - you chuckle and watch her work, until she puts two boxes with a blue label in front of you.

— Yeah? And is that a new boyfriend I see?

She points right behind your shoulder, where Morita is absentmindedly punching a can closer to the trash bin. He barely notices you casting a glance behind yourself and raises his head. Noticing two pairs of eyes and an older woman's smile, he raises a hand to make a small unconvincing wave.

— Nah, we're just fuck buddies, - you return to standing upright and finding your wallet. A crumbled cash is the next thing that you put down onto the counter.

— Oh, you and your awful sense of humour! - she disapprovingly shakes her head, nonetheless her smile doesn't vanish yet, - And where did the last one disappear?

— Ah, y'know what they say- even the greatest become food for the fishies in the end, - you cackle and laugh and so does the old woman alongside you as if following the lead. 

— Um, excuse me...

With a joke he didn't get, Morita is slowly laying his hand over your shoulder to ask for some space in front of the small window just as well.

— Do you also sell Kent by chance? - he hesitantly looks at the old woman's face and smiles politely - it comes off as a bit shy.

— Of course! Just one box for you? - she nods and bends to get one from under the counter just as well. Meanwhile, you already shove the second box into your breast pocket and unwrap the first.

— Thank you, - Morita does a small bow and takes out cash just as well, but the woman just pushes the box into his hands and shakes her head.

— No, it's on me, - she says and smiles at Morita in a friendly manner, - It's rare for him to bring such a polite young man along after all.

— Oh don't say that! The last one was just fine! - you nudge Morita's side just to take some of the space while he takes cigarettes and stands there fiddling with packaging. In the end he’s a lot taller than the level on which the kiosk's window is at.

— Thank you nonetheless, - he finally says and puts the box of cigarettes into his pocket just as well. 

Both you and the older woman slowly return gazes to one another, but not before she saw your glance, almost not wanting to leave Morita be for a second more than not. You perch your cheek just as smiling in turn- and raise your eyebrows questingly at her.

Leaning closer, she puts a hand over her mouth and you lend her an ear. She whispers a few words and you toss a glare at her.

— No, no not like that, - you blush slightly and put glasses back onto your face. The elderly woman just laughs cheerfully and takes the cash you left from the counter's plate.

— Thank you for your purchase, - she smiles and waves to both of you, while you make your way to Morita's side with hands in both of your pockets, - Take care of your nii-san!

You shove your shoulder into Morita's side and just add shortly: "let's go". You're more so pouty about her knowing exactly how you asked Morita to call you in a private setting.

“That “nii-san” nickname shouldn't be as obvious as it is! Damnit—” 

You kick the exact same can as Morita did before, but send it flying further from the trash bin instead.

— What was that about? - he blinks but waves goodbye to the kiosk lady that you two are now leaving behind.

— Nothing new, - you huff and take the cigarette out, frown sliding off as if it was never there, - Said you look like a dumbass. 

Turning your head to the side, where Morita clicks his lighter for you, you put the tip of the cigarette to the small fire as it's perched between your lips.

— I don't think she said exactly that, - he then turns the same light to himself and lights his own just as well.

— Yeah no- it doesn't matter, - you wave and make your way further so Morita would have to catch up now.

"Actually", you raise your head with a blow of smoke into the evening sky, "she said it's me, who's the dumbass here—”