Work Text:
"Kurosawa?" Adachi's eyes widen at the sleek, black motorcycle parked at the side of the curb.
Kurosawa smiles with pride, but Adachi can see a hint of nervousness hiding behind the blinding teeth and eye crinkles. Kurosawa walks over and swings his leg over it in a way that it much sexier than any human has a right to be, especially considering that they're both still suited up from work.
Adachi practically gawks, and Kurosawa chuckles. "Like what you see?" He gets the feelings he's not just talking about the motorcycle anymore. Kurosawa points to the back of the bike, "Grab the two helmets and hop on. We're going for a ride."
Adachi stands - surprised - and sputters. "Come on," Kurosawa gestures. "I really want you to experience this."
Adachi swallows down his nerves and retrieves two helmets from the back, slinging his leg - in a comparably less suave and attractive way - over the seat. "Hold on tight."
Adachi stalls, unsure where to put his hands. He wonders if it would be too much to wrap them around Kurosawa's waist, but even as inexperienced as he is, knows that around his neck is a dumb idea. He settles on tightly gripping Kurosawa's shoulders (which are strong and solid and broad - Adachi feels a surge of heat course through him).
Kurosawa suddenly looks behind him, his nose nearly touching Adachi's. Before Adachi can pull back, Kurosawa grabs his hands and guides them to wrap securely around his waist. "Hold on tight," he says, quiet but with a caring intimacy that wasn't there the first time.
Adachi's heart leaps in his chest and he feels the strength of Kurosawa's core enveloped by his arms. It gives him the confidence to scooch forward slightly as Kurosawa kicks up the stand of the bike, turns the key, and revs the engine.
With no other warning than the sight of a sly smile out of the corner of his eye, Kurosawa takes off at full speed as Adachi squeals in delight and exhilaration. He does as Kurosawa instructed him and squeezes Kurosawa's middle as they zip and speed through the night streets. Adachi puts his head to rest on Kurosawa's shoulder and sees a red blush form on Kurosawa's cheeks through the rearview mirrors. Street lights and intersection stoplights pass them by in a glowing blur.
Ever since meeting Kurosawa, Adachi began to understand the difference between being alive and feeling alive, and never has he felt more alive than in this moment. A solid and centralizing weight that grounds him as he sees the familiar architecture and landmarks from a completely new perspective; a blossoming, new affection - which Adachi didn't even know was possible - for the man who operates the bike with such assured and sexy confidence; the rush of the cool night air that whoosh past his cheeks; the bubbling excitement that takes the place of anxiety towards something that's completely unfamiliar for the very first time in his life. In the back of Adachi's mind, he knows this high won't last forever, but it doesn't have to because it's opened something in him he doesn't want to close.
Adachi feels like letting out a whoop and laughs of excitement... so he does. Carefree and unfiltered in ways he's never been. He can't see Kurosawa's reaction, but doesn't need to. He can feel his warm affections and smile similar to the way you can feel that someone loves you without them needing to say it.
Adachi knows he could mourn this beautiful, foreign feeling before it's even over, but this time he decides to bask in it. He gives Kurosawa's middle another small squeeze and watches as everything passes him by, content with the uncertainty that this night has brought him.
Thank you, Yuichi.