"Not a fucking chance," Kira answers easily, pushing aside a fear that is distant, still. He could very likely take the ride, and return to this point: he isn't going to die tonight. He just--doesn't feel like it. Didn't feel like swimming, has only managed to lose his shoes and jacket and unbutton his shirt. His sleeves are pushed up, showing the outlines of tattoos started on his birthday, left until he pulls together time and funds.
No reason to save it; no reason not to do whatever he wants with this body while it's whole.
Why he eschew drunk swimming, he doesn't know. It isn't like he's not drinking, propped on a poolside chair with his own bottle of champagne and someone's pack of cigarettes. Ty clearly wants to do something with the night, and Kira rolls his head against the texture of the cushion behind it.
"Let's find out what the girls are doing. Come on." He has to roll himself over, careful of a lit cigarette, to find his footing on the tile.
"I just don't want to hear that I didn't offer the full prom experience." Ty said, not going to press the issue. He was fine with just hanging out, most of his friends preoccupied with making their own memories to bother the two of them too much. Other than in the quiet shell of his house or when they were out alone in the city together did he get to just hang out with Kira without much interruptions. He supposed part of it was because he was so hopelessly pathetic around Kira his friends couldn't not comment, the smartasses they were.
So when Kira got up to go look for the girls, Ty groaned in protest, turning to watch Kira try to walk.
"They're probably playing weird games or doing make overs. Do we have to?" Still, he was floating back towards the edge of the pool.
"Do you really think," he says, picking himself up and keeping the cigarette lit with a long drag, "that I will be stopped from complaining by anything you say or do?" There's something of a smirk pulling his lips, one side punctuated by a circle of orange light.
Careful of the slick tile, Kira walks backwards to the doors, keeping Ty in his sights. The orange light bobs and shrinks as he moves away. "Besides, makeovers could be fun. I need that fancy water with the lemon to counteract all the vodka."
"You're right. One of these days I'll have to remember to find someone who actually appreciates all the hard work I put int our friendship." Ty said with a dramatic sigh, but all the same, he slung a companionable arm over Kira's shoulders. Half to make sure he didn't slip and fall on the tile and half because he just liked having him close.
He crinkled his nose at the thought of make overs, shaking his head. "If that's the case, I'm leaving you to it then. There's only so many times I'll let Vivian try to talk me into those weird mud masks."
But when he pushed open the door to the room most of the girls and some of the guys had congregated in, he almost wished that they had been doing makeovers.
"Really?" He groused. "Spin the bottle? What are we, twelve?" It was one thing to know that Kira went out with other people. He tried not to feel to disappointed and stung, but it was another to get a front row seat to it. Especially with the depressing thought that it never seemed to bother Kira if Ty was dating someone else or not.
"I just know that our friendship is the only thing you've ever had to work for," Kira retaliates, though Ty hadn't had to do much at all: Kira and his mother had visited the house, they'd been the only teenagers in a fancy condo with mothers, nurses, and maids. Giving each other shit was just the basis of communication, affection.
"We mashed it up with seven minutes of heaven," answers a guy Kira didn't recognize, probably someone the girls snagged for his jawline and willingness to fool around in closets for set periods of time.
"Oh, so we're actually fifteen," Kira says, ineffectual protest that gets him a smack on the arm as he sits down with Vivian. "What happens when one of the straight boys pretends he doesn't want me to fingerbang him in a closet?"
Vivian snorts, Delilah rolls her eyes--at least two of the guys seem to perk up in interest for the answer. "You can both do a shot for courage and talk about your college prospects for the duration," Delilah answers to appease them, leading Kira to interject with "or I'll just take a volunteer."
"Whatever, you came around quickly enough due to my good looks and deep pockets, I'm sure." Ty said flippantly, most of his good humor evaporating when it looked like they were actually going to stay and play the game. He could have left, he supposed, and left them to their own devices. Felix had been worringly quiet for far too long, and Holden tended to brood deeply if left to his own devices.
He had half a foot out of the door before he caught Delilah's pointed look, and with a small sigh, sat down across from her, eyebrows raised in an 'are you happy' gesture. So this was a trap, then.
He made a face at the mention of Kira fingerbanging, though it was difficult to know what was worse, that or having to talk to someone about his college choices for seven minutes. Gratefully, he accepted a shot from one of the girls sitting next to him, deciding that if he was stuck here he might as well get completely shit faced.
"I'll volunteer to start then." He said, spinning the bottle deftly.
Kira sits back behind his cigarette, behind the still-full bottle rounding the circle. There's no real interest for where the neck points, at the end, until it leads back to Delilah.
"Oh that's fucking rich," he says, "I'd say make sure the condom's fresh, but your kids will probably fix the hole in the ozone."
Another swig as Vivian sneers agreement and shoves the side of his head, turns to a choke when Delilah foregoes the rude gesture to turn the bottle so it points at Kira. That's not fair meets At least you can't get pregnant over the noise of ten other people egging him on, and Kira pushes the bottle down on the floor to boost himself upright.
"Fine, but I'm taking this with me." He kicks away a grasping hand and holds the bottle over his head, walking across the gap to Ty. "Seven minutes, lover boy."
When the bottle pointed to Delilah, Ty felt his heart leap up into his throat, meeting her eyes levelly but still holding his hand out for another shot. He had no illusions that anything that would happen in that seven minutes would be close to heaven. Mostly it would be about his college prospects, what was he going to do with his life, and maybe if he was lucky, they could spend some time laughing at how ridiculous this whole night was. But he supposed Delilah wasn't his childhood best friend for nothing, and with the sort of neutral expression that would serve her well in politics, she pointed the bottle to Kira. He wasn't sure if he should kiss her for it anyway, but he supposed his laughter was repayment enough.
"Try to last seven minutes Ty!" Vivian catcalled after them, and after lovingly giving her the finger and getting one more shot, Ty followed after Kira. What else was new?
As the door was shut behind them, the closet spacious enough they could have both sprawled out on the floor on opposite ends and not touched, he took a seat, holding his hand out for the bottle.
"I never thought I'd say this, but I'd rather talk college prospects than be fingerbanged by you. It seems too cliche on prom night." Because Kira wasn't interested, and Ty could be a gentleman and give him an out.
Being shut in a closet with Ty is less a new experience than a literal translation of what it feels like to be alone with him, even in an open room. Four walls, dim light, hanging coats and hotel robes. With more than one room attached to the suite, the others will probably keep spinning until they're full, and maybe claim a bathroom as well--and plenty of couples are going to surpass the seven minute mark. At least they've gotten first pick of the night.
Kira makes no effort to set a timer on his phone; that's up to the rabble rousers outside. He's contained, with nothing but a bottle to distract him from the press of Ty, the fact of the walls.
With a final swig and a casual pass, he doesn't even have the bottle anymore. "I'm still not going, and I honestly don't care about your future education--so if you don't want to make out because of cliches you'll need to find another way to entertain me."
"What, don't tell me you actually want to make out." Ty joked, heart twisting in his throat even as if he tried to pass it off as casual. He knew he hadn't been subtle about his feelings all night, hell, probably since he had met Kira and started getting along with him. But he also respected the boundaries that Kira had erected around them, as well as himself too much to go chasing after someone who wasn't interested in him that way. And though Kira would probably roll his eyes at it, his friendship really did mean more to him. Moreso than the difficulties of dating outside of one's financial class was finding lasting friendships. One where Ty was more important than his money or connections.
He closed his eyes, feeling too buzzed to move, lazy and boneless.
Normally he wouldn't - or he would, because he'd always prefer to be making out with someone - normally he'd say no. But he has seven minutes in a closet, trapped not just with Ty but with Ty's wanting it. And he has all the minutes after that, where they're forgotten, where everyone in the damn suite has paired off or gone to bed, and if he says no, he might as well slip out now and just go home.
He'd take Ty with him, but - he's not staying in this hotel all night and guarding his fucking virtue.
"I mean, I did ask for the full prom experience," he says, leaning back on both hands like it costs him nothing at all to entertain the prospect. "And you're graduating soon, off to some Ivy League with Delilah. We should probably make out at least once."
The thing about him and Kira was this: Ty would be fine if they were just friends. In fact, he'd probably relish having something concrete about what their relationship is instead of all the little things it isn't. He falls in and out of love quick and easy, so long as there's a definite get together and a definite break up. But with Kira, there's none of that. There's the constantly touted 'it's not in the cards' but there's never a 'no'. There's never a confession, but there's a way that Kira looks at him sometimes.
Vivian would call it being kept on the hook and Felix would call it stupidity, but there's just enough to keep Ty cycling back. He should be offended that Kira was acting like kissing Ty was something on some checklist to be done, but it was difficult to be too mad when Ty had been wanting to kiss him all night and longer.
"Who says I'm going anywhere? Maybe I'll just take advantage of my family's wealth and bum around here forever." But even as he was saying it, he already knew it wasn't going to happen. He was restless even now, ready to do something, anything. He just needed to find his direction.
"But if it's just for prom, then fine." Ty said, hopefully equally blase. "But you have to come over here, the room is spinning a bit."
The Rhodes' wealth is its own hook, an old point of contention, a line to tug on that will unravel this moment into a petty fight. Or, at least, a fight all of the people in the joining room will find petty, and that Kira's own friends would understand too well.
Ty is his friend. Is and will be and--
And it doesn't change the fact that he might only be here, at this rich kid prom and in this closet bigger than certain rooms of the family apartment, because if Ty's going to fuck somebody on prom night, he wants Kira in the running. So Kira tugs the thread, but silently - unraveling something inside of himself instead of the moment closing them both in.
Whatever this is, it's fine so long as it hurts them both.
Rolling forward, he shrugs against the stretch of his white shirt over his back and crawls into Ty's corner. "You'd better not bum around here forever," is all he says, a little dry and worn, before guiding Ty in with a hand at his chin, knelt to kiss him from above.
For someone that Ty called one of his best friends, he could hardly tell what Kira was thinking. Delilah just had to give him a look and he felt like a whole conversation had taken place, Felix just had to drop by with a 'so I need-' and he already knew he was going to get in trouble, and Ronan just had to clap a hand on his shoulder and he knew things would get better. But Kira was different than anyone else he had ever known, in an uncountable number of ways.
Was he doing this because it was a whim? Because he felt like he had to repay him someway and this was the easiest way? Or were Ty's feelings not as one sided as he wanted to believe?
Either way, he watched him crawl over, feeling dizzy, before grasping onto Kira's shirt to pull him forward. Ty kept it chaste for a moment or two before pressing further, hungry for more.
"Or what?" He teased against Kira's lips, afraid to open his eyes to see something like regret or disgust on his face.
If he regrets this, it's in the doing - not the quality. Now he knows, in the haze of too much champagne and vodka, what it feels like to have Ty tug on his shirt. How carefully Ty can start a kiss, and how warm it is, how gently he can deepen it.
In the moment they're both dizzy, but Kira has his eyes open, for how little he can see in the dark. Pieces of Ty's face, shapes made by dim light. When he presses in for another kiss, when he opens his mouth and slides his tongue against the back of his teeth, shadow swallows as much as he does.
"Or you'll never be happy." It isn't a jab, isn't even a rejoinder. A little truth, a little Akiyama foresight as he gathers the back of Ty's head in his hands, shifts his knees to straddle part of his lap, and leans into a moment that feels so easy to have, for how impossible it will be to keep.
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No reason to save it; no reason not to do whatever he wants with this body while it's whole.
Why he eschew drunk swimming, he doesn't know. It isn't like he's not drinking, propped on a poolside chair with his own bottle of champagne and someone's pack of cigarettes. Ty clearly wants to do something with the night, and Kira rolls his head against the texture of the cushion behind it.
"Let's find out what the girls are doing. Come on." He has to roll himself over, careful of a lit cigarette, to find his footing on the tile.
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So when Kira got up to go look for the girls, Ty groaned in protest, turning to watch Kira try to walk.
"They're probably playing weird games or doing make overs. Do we have to?" Still, he was floating back towards the edge of the pool.
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Careful of the slick tile, Kira walks backwards to the doors, keeping Ty in his sights. The orange light bobs and shrinks as he moves away. "Besides, makeovers could be fun. I need that fancy water with the lemon to counteract all the vodka."
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He crinkled his nose at the thought of make overs, shaking his head. "If that's the case, I'm leaving you to it then. There's only so many times I'll let Vivian try to talk me into those weird mud masks."
But when he pushed open the door to the room most of the girls and some of the guys had congregated in, he almost wished that they had been doing makeovers.
"Really?" He groused. "Spin the bottle? What are we, twelve?" It was one thing to know that Kira went out with other people. He tried not to feel to disappointed and stung, but it was another to get a front row seat to it. Especially with the depressing thought that it never seemed to bother Kira if Ty was dating someone else or not.
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"We mashed it up with seven minutes of heaven," answers a guy Kira didn't recognize, probably someone the girls snagged for his jawline and willingness to fool around in closets for set periods of time.
"Oh, so we're actually fifteen," Kira says, ineffectual protest that gets him a smack on the arm as he sits down with Vivian. "What happens when one of the straight boys pretends he doesn't want me to fingerbang him in a closet?"
Vivian snorts, Delilah rolls her eyes--at least two of the guys seem to perk up in interest for the answer. "You can both do a shot for courage and talk about your college prospects for the duration," Delilah answers to appease them, leading Kira to interject with "or I'll just take a volunteer."
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He had half a foot out of the door before he caught Delilah's pointed look, and with a small sigh, sat down across from her, eyebrows raised in an 'are you happy' gesture. So this was a trap, then.
He made a face at the mention of Kira fingerbanging, though it was difficult to know what was worse, that or having to talk to someone about his college choices for seven minutes. Gratefully, he accepted a shot from one of the girls sitting next to him, deciding that if he was stuck here he might as well get completely shit faced.
"I'll volunteer to start then." He said, spinning the bottle deftly.
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"Oh that's fucking rich," he says, "I'd say make sure the condom's fresh, but your kids will probably fix the hole in the ozone."
Another swig as Vivian sneers agreement and shoves the side of his head, turns to a choke when Delilah foregoes the rude gesture to turn the bottle so it points at Kira. That's not fair meets At least you can't get pregnant over the noise of ten other people egging him on, and Kira pushes the bottle down on the floor to boost himself upright.
"Fine, but I'm taking this with me." He kicks away a grasping hand and holds the bottle over his head, walking across the gap to Ty. "Seven minutes, lover boy."
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"Try to last seven minutes Ty!" Vivian catcalled after them, and after lovingly giving her the finger and getting one more shot, Ty followed after Kira. What else was new?
As the door was shut behind them, the closet spacious enough they could have both sprawled out on the floor on opposite ends and not touched, he took a seat, holding his hand out for the bottle.
"I never thought I'd say this, but I'd rather talk college prospects than be fingerbanged by you. It seems too cliche on prom night." Because Kira wasn't interested, and Ty could be a gentleman and give him an out.
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Kira makes no effort to set a timer on his phone; that's up to the rabble rousers outside. He's contained, with nothing but a bottle to distract him from the press of Ty, the fact of the walls.
With a final swig and a casual pass, he doesn't even have the bottle anymore. "I'm still not going, and I honestly don't care about your future education--so if you don't want to make out because of cliches you'll need to find another way to entertain me."
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He closed his eyes, feeling too buzzed to move, lazy and boneless.
"Okay, then what about me getting a tattoo?"
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He'd take Ty with him, but - he's not staying in this hotel all night and guarding his fucking virtue.
"I mean, I did ask for the full prom experience," he says, leaning back on both hands like it costs him nothing at all to entertain the prospect. "And you're graduating soon, off to some Ivy League with Delilah. We should probably make out at least once."
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Vivian would call it being kept on the hook and Felix would call it stupidity, but there's just enough to keep Ty cycling back. He should be offended that Kira was acting like kissing Ty was something on some checklist to be done, but it was difficult to be too mad when Ty had been wanting to kiss him all night and longer.
"Who says I'm going anywhere? Maybe I'll just take advantage of my family's wealth and bum around here forever." But even as he was saying it, he already knew it wasn't going to happen. He was restless even now, ready to do something, anything. He just needed to find his direction.
"But if it's just for prom, then fine." Ty said, hopefully equally blase. "But you have to come over here, the room is spinning a bit."
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Ty is his friend. Is and will be and--
And it doesn't change the fact that he might only be here, at this rich kid prom and in this closet bigger than certain rooms of the family apartment, because if Ty's going to fuck somebody on prom night, he wants Kira in the running. So Kira tugs the thread, but silently - unraveling something inside of himself instead of the moment closing them both in.
Whatever this is, it's fine so long as it hurts them both.
Rolling forward, he shrugs against the stretch of his white shirt over his back and crawls into Ty's corner. "You'd better not bum around here forever," is all he says, a little dry and worn, before guiding Ty in with a hand at his chin, knelt to kiss him from above.
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Was he doing this because it was a whim? Because he felt like he had to repay him someway and this was the easiest way? Or were Ty's feelings not as one sided as he wanted to believe?
Either way, he watched him crawl over, feeling dizzy, before grasping onto Kira's shirt to pull him forward. Ty kept it chaste for a moment or two before pressing further, hungry for more.
"Or what?" He teased against Kira's lips, afraid to open his eyes to see something like regret or disgust on his face.
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In the moment they're both dizzy, but Kira has his eyes open, for how little he can see in the dark. Pieces of Ty's face, shapes made by dim light. When he presses in for another kiss, when he opens his mouth and slides his tongue against the back of his teeth, shadow swallows as much as he does.
"Or you'll never be happy." It isn't a jab, isn't even a rejoinder. A little truth, a little Akiyama foresight as he gathers the back of Ty's head in his hands, shifts his knees to straddle part of his lap, and leans into a moment that feels so easy to have, for how impossible it will be to keep.