Too Much

Title: Too Much
Pairing: Genma/Raidou
Rating: Hard R/NC-17
Wordcount: 1750ish
Warnings: alcohol use, male/male, men kissing, handjob, frot. 1st-person POV (Raidou). Sixth in series - see my profile for the order these go in, though you can definitely read any of them on their own ^__^
Summary: It's getting harder and harder to keep up the act in public, and Raidou almost slips up.

for julis :)

*****

Too much to drink, I knew I had had too much to drink. I hadn't drank this much in... at least a month. I don't even think I was this trashed at the last family dinner.

It was late, late... I don't know why we stayed at the bar for so long tonight. People kept showing up... I remember Kotetsu, excited over his new job as exam proctor, and the pay raise it entailed, buying everyone a round... and then Izumo doing the same... Aoba bought us drinks, too. It seemed like everyone was in a good mood tonight, and the supply of alcohol was endless.

I knew it was going to be a tough night when I caught myself leaning in toward Genma, intending to kiss him on the neck. I passed it off as a drunken lurch and steadied myself on the wall beside him. I had sex on the brain, had been thinking about it for hours, ever since the first beer. I could hardly drink beer any more without remembering those first few weeks, Genma kneeling in front of me, sucking me off, touching himself with pornos playing in the background. That seemed like such a long time ago, like it happened in another lifetime, almost. But it had only been about six months, and still, no one knew. I switched to mixed drinks right away; I didn't want to have to try to hide a boner all night.

As it turned out, I was hiding one off and on for most of the night, anyway. Genma was wearing this shirt... it was just a normal short-sleeved, vee-neck t-shirt. But I was so used to him either in his ninja blacks, with his arms and throat covered, or completely naked in the privacy of our apartment, and something about seeing that amount of skin exposed in public had a very strange effect on me. His arms, his throat, that dip between his collarbones... I kept staring and making myself stop, kept wanting to reach out and touch him.

Luckily, we got separated for awhile. Our eyes still sought each other out across the room, and when we weren't in visual contact, I still knew almost exactly where he was without even having to think about it. Drinking, drinking, talking, laughing with friends, and the night got older and older, and I got more and more impatient to leave... but we were known for our ability to close down a bar, to last out an entire party. I just couldn't find a good excuse to grab Genma and get out of there. And he seemed to be having fun. I wasn't sure if he would be ready to go.

Finally, nearing two in the morning - not really all that late, for this kind of thing - I bumped into him in the hallway leading to the men's room. Literally bumped into him - the floor took a dip underneath my feet, and I swerved into him.

He smelled like sweat and beer, and I'm sure I did, too, but it was so familiar that I was immediately aroused. I let my lack of equilibrium sway me into him again. I brought a hand up to balance myself on the wall, and as I did, I let it brush over his neck, that skin I'd been wanting to touch all night.

"Need to get you home?" he suggested, his voice sounding just as slurred as I knew mine did.

"Yeah. Think I've had too much," I agreed, and I closed my eyes and focused on not kissing him here, in front of all these people.

"Good. Just keep doing that," Genma said, and it took me until he looped my arm over his shoulders that I realized I was swaying back and forth on my feet. He half-carried me through the bar, waving and nodding at our friends on the way out, explaining laughingly that I had become a lightweight lately.

The night air was near freezing, and it shocked me into a slightly more sober state. Still, I was weaving as we walked down the street. And now that we were out of the bar, I realized Genma might have actually been worse... he was stumbling beside me, unusually quiet, like it was taking all of his concentration just to not fall flat on his face. No rooftops for us, tonight - the ground wasn't even flat enough to keep us from tripping.

Again, I felt the tiniest bit more clear-headed when we crossed through the threshold of our apartment. I steadied Gen while he locked the door behind him, and once he hung the key up on the hook, I jerked him close.

His mouth smashed into mine as I ran my hands over his ribs, over his stomach, feeling solid, tensing muscle under that thin fabric. I ran my mouth down his chin and attacked his neck, pressing his back against the door as I tasted the lightly tanned column of his throat, sucked at his exposed collarbones. He pressed his thigh up between my legs, and I groaned when he rolled his hips forward and his muscular thigh rubbed and flexed against my swelling cock.

Then his hands were at my hips, at my waist, and the taste of sweat and the smell of beer were heady as he quickly unfastened my pants. Already most of the way there, I was hard as a rock by the time he had my pants and briefs down past my hips.

He was impatient, tonight. Usually, he allowed me to do whatever I wanted, at least at the beginning, but I wasn't complaining when he pushed me back a few inches and went down on his knees.

I reached a hand out to brace myself on the door, and I groaned when he wrapped his hand around my dick and took my head into his mouth. So hot and wet... I couldn't keep my hips from thrusting forward. He moaned around me, and I heard the metallic rasp of his zipper. He started shaking, and I didn't have to look down to know he was jerking off.

"Genma," I whispered, and his mouth was sloppy and hungry and amazing on my cock. I moaned again and pushed his hitai-ate back and off of his head, tangled my fingers into his hair. He groaned, almost a growl around my dick, and started tugging my pants down farther. His mouth popped off of my cock with a wet sound that was loud in the quiet apartment, and I worked to stay standing while he fussed with my shoes and my wrappings.

I don't remember falling over, but I must have, because the next thing I knew I was on my back on the floor with my pants tangled around my right leg. Genma was crawling over me, pushing my shirt up to lick at my stomach on the way up to my face.

His cock met mine and he hissed, then cupped the back of my head and pulled my face close for a kiss. We only held it for a few seconds - after that, he was thrusting against me aggressively, rubbing his dick against mine so hard it would have been painful without the spit to smooth the slide. His hand inched up my left thigh, dug into my ass, so I hooked my leg over his hip. I caught a glimpse of his face in the dim illumination filtering in from the streetlight; he looked fierce and wild in that moment, his face a mask of straining pleasure.

Then he propped himself up on his hand, dug his fingers into my ass harder, and moaned loudly.

"Nnnng, Raidou... " he breathed harshly. He rubbed his erection against my hipbone, and mine slid over his tight, slightly sweaty lower stomach, and I groaned at the heat that flickered through me.

He sucked in a hissing breath. One more thrust against me, and he pulled the hand gripping my ass away, wrapped it around his dick. He panted my name out again, and I gasped at the sensation of his hot come splashing onto my cock. He shuddered as he emptied himself onto me, every jet of seed aimed perfectly onto my aching erection, every spasm pulling a soft, short moan from his throat, making me so hot I thought for a second I was going to come with him.

What was almost a shocked silence followed, where we made eye contact and froze. Genma looked nervous, nearly, and fully sober for the seconds before he wet his lips to speak.

"Raidou," he said again, the third time in a minute, but this time it was heavy with more than lust. Just those two syllables sounded contrite and apprehensive, like the next words coming out of his mouth were going to be an apology... or something else.

Well, if he was going to apologize for changing the normal run of things by pinning me onto the floor and dry-humping me, it was unnecessary. And if it was something else... I was too drunk and hard and horny, too turned on by his aggressive display to want to hear anything else.

"Genma," I said back, and I tried to let my voice carry all of my overpowering need. He blinked heavily, and that intoxicated haze filled his eyes again. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes when he wrapped his fist around my erection, and moaned, long and deep, and the knowledge that his rapid strokes were lubricated by his come made it even better.

I came quickly, and my seed joined the rest of the mess. I don't remember if we said or did anything else that night. What I do remember is that we woke up in a sticky tangle on the floor, both of us with hangovers bad enough it was too much effort to even try to make it to a bedroom.

So instead, we curled up on the couch and threw a blanket over our heads to block out the sunlight. I don't know if he remembered that awkward moment in the middle of everything, but he never mentioned it. I didn't either, and over the weeks that came I started to wonder if I had imagined it. I remembered everything else, and that was enough.

END
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