April 14, 1912

Kiss Me Like It's Our Last Night To Live

( the "sexy times" chapter) (I spent the week obsessing about whether I was going to post this or not, but @d0ir__ my beloved, brought down the hammer)

Komaeda's soft words send shivers down Hinata's spine, making his cheeks turn pink and causing him to avert his eyes slightly. The socialite gently touches his chin and turns his face back to look at him in response to this.

"What's wrong, Hajime? Are you not interested?" He asks gently.

Hinata looks back up into his eyes. "I am interested. Just. . .nervous."

"Nervous?" He responds softly, "Nothing needs to happen, Hajime."

"But what if I want something to happen?" He mumbles.

Komaeda sighs. "If you want something to happen, darling, you need to take charge. I'm worried about you now."

Hinata is silent for a moment, continuing to trace his fingers over Komaeda's robe. ". . .Okay, fine."

He wraps his arms around the socialite's neck and pulls him into a gentle kiss. Komaeda smiles against him, taking Hinata's waist and pulling him closer.

"Are you afraid you won't be good enough? Is that it? Or is it me?" He asks quietly, urging them in the smallest, most casual slow-dance.

"Of course not," Hinata breaths, "I couldn't find a single thing wrong with you."

"Even if I am a man?"

"Even if you are a man, and I am a man, and the world hates us for it." He assures him.

"Then you are nervous because you think you won't do well? There is no way you couldn't be perfect for me. Or are you just plain nervous? Because we don't have to do anything-"

"Stop," Hinata interrupts, "I want you. Tonight."

Komaeda smiles. "You're not just saying this for my benefit, correct? Hajime, I would hate for you to-"

"Seriously, stop. I want you. I need you. Tonight."

"Then I would love if you would take me and break me, Hajime. However. . ," His fingers graze up Hinata's back, "I still worry. If we go too far, say 'cotton.' Promise?"

Hinata smiles. "Of course. This I swear," He promises, taking Komaeda's hand and leading him over to the bed, "The same for you as well."

"Of course. Okay, Hajime," He shuts his eyes, "Have your way with me."

"Nagito-"

"Break me."

Hinata shivers and leans forward, cupping his partner's cheek and kissing him. Their mouths fit together like two puzzle pieces, finally connected. After all, the fluffy-haired boy is practically his other half.

Komaeda smells like champagne and strawberries. Their chests are so close that they can feel each others frantic, pounding heartbeats through the clothing separating them. Hinata's fingers graze up Komaeda's slightly-exposed thigh, feeling something akin to electricity with each little touch.

His skin is soft and smooth, not ever knowing harshness or difficulty. Komaeda had lived a pampered life and had not been exposed to roughness or too much work. He's innocent and can even be considered frail in a way; all the more satisfying to mark up and destroy.

Hinata kisses him again like it's the last night they have to live, squeezing his thigh. The socialite's fingers curl around the brunet's waist, and he pulls him closer and closer until he falls backwards, forcing the artist to be pinning his partner to the bed.