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There’s a fingertip right on Sho’s lips where he can still feel the taste of his drinks. The skin is calloused from playing guitar, he muses, but also warm and gentle as it slides on Sho’s bottom lip with no real purpose.
Sho chuckles for no reason, feeling the buzz of the alcohol enhance his senses and making them dull at the same time. There’s a giggle in reply then, and the finger falls from his mouth to his neck, resting there casually as its owner drags them both down on the fuzzy white carpet at their feet.
Sho goes willingly, turning to face his boyfriend as they end up a pile of laughing mess on the floor.
“You’re my favorite person,” Aiba whispers, warm breath lingering on Sho’s skin.
Sho smiles at those words, legs clashing into Aiba’s and tangling with them. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” the other man replies, pulling him by his shirt to get him even closer.
It’s a second, but the fingertip is back on Sho’s mouth, and then it’s not there anymore, replaced by Aiba’s tongue latching at his bottom lip. It’s sloppy, and it’s too much tongue, but Sho revels in the feeling as Aiba’s kiss slowly turns into a fit of giggles and he has to pull away a bit.
“I’m drunk,” Aiba says, accusingly. “You got me drunk, Sho-chan.”
Sho has to resist the chuckle that wants to escape his lips. “I would never,” he protests weakly.
Aiba closes his eyes and hums, as if he’s thinking about it. “Don’t lie, Sho-chan,” he eventually says. “Are you trying to get into my pants?”
“I don’t need to get you drunk for that,” Sho rebuts. “Or did you forget about this morning, when you practically jumped my bones as soon as I walked in the door?”
“Well that,” Aiba slurs, “is just part of the contract.”
“What contract?”
“The boyfriend contract,” Aiba says confidently.
Sho raises an eyebrow. “The boyfriend contract,” he repeats.
“Yes,” Aiba says, opening his eyes again. One of his hands is now resting on Sho’s hip, playing with the fabric of his shirt. In all of his alcohol-induced haze, Sho finds it very distracting for some reason. “It’s your birthday, so you get sex.”
Aiba’s hand slides on Sho’s chest now, making him slow on the uptake. “And when, I pray you, have I ever signed this contract?” Sho asks when his brain finally catches up.
“Sshh,” Aiba says, fingertip pressing on his lips once again, breath dancing on Sho’s neck as he moans softly against it.
One of Sho’s hands is around Aiba’s back, while the other is resting in his hair, caressing it. Aiba makes soft sounds, making Sho’s heart jump with every passing second. The bottle of champagne stands on the coffee table above him, completely empty. Aiba was right, he did want to get him drunk, but not for the reasons he thought.
“What else is on this contract, then?” Sho asks, breaking their silence.
“Hmm?”
“The boyfriend contract,” Sho reminds Aiba. “I think I should know what’s on it.”
“Yes, you do,” Aiba says lazily. “Well, for example… I get to kiss you whenever I want.”
“Do you?” Sho asks with a grin.
Aiba grabs his head to look him straight in the eyes. “Yes,” he punctuates that with a kiss. “And I get to call you, even in the middle of the night, and you can’t get mad at me.”
Sho rolls his eyes at that. “Thinking your house is haunted is not a good reason to wake me up at four in the morning, Masaki.”
“It is too,” Aiba says in a tone that admits no reply. “And then…”
“And then?” Sho encourages him.
Aiba frowns, unable to retrieve his previous thought. “You got me too drunk, now I can’t think straight.”
“Well, you weren’t too straight to begin with,” Sho said with a grin.
Aiba tries to punch his shoulder, but he misses spectacularly; which is funny, considering that there couldn’t be less space between them.
“Shut up,” Aiba says, trying to recover from his embarrassment.
Sho chuckles, sitting up and pulling Aiba with him. They rest their backs against Aiba’s old battered couch, Aiba resting his head on Sho’s shoulder and Sho resting his on his boyfriend’s head.
The silence stretches out so long that Sho thinks that Aiba dozed off. He doesn’t mind it, truthfully, but a drunk Aiba is a clingy, affectionate Aiba, and Sho, through no fault of his boyfriend, is so starved for attention that he considers waking Aiba up so he could enjoy it for another minute before midnight will come and take away his first day as a 41 years old.
“Sho-chan.”
Aiba wasn’t asleep after all, Sho thinks. “Yes, Masaki?”
Aiba pulls away and turns around to look at him. Sho’s gaze falls on his favorite mole on Aiba’s face, the one next to his right eye. It reminds him of his other favorite mole, the one on Aiba’s hip that he dubbed his ‘sexy mole’, much to Sho’s amusement each time he sees it.
Aiba’s hands are on his face again, his fingers are hot on Sho’s cheeks as he straightens his face to make him look at him. Aiba’s eyes are dark and focused, and Sho feels his heart skip a beat.
“You, Sakurai Sho,” Aiba says calmly, “are my favorite person.”
Sho rarely blushes, but he feels the heat fill his face at that. “You said that already, Masaki,” he says, grabbing Aiba’s wrists and gently pushing his hands down.
“I know,” his boyfriend says. “But I know you love to hear it. Me telling you that is also in the boyfriend contract.”
Sho coughs, feeling embarrassed. “You’re so cheesy,” he says, standing up and offering his hand to Aiba.
The other grins at him. “But you love that.”
“I won’t confirm nor deny.”
Once Aiba is on his feet, he wastes no time in throwing himself at Sho. “Now,” he says in a solemn voice, “carry me to my bed, bridal style.”
“I will never,” Sho retorts.
Quickly, he pushes him away and runs to the bedroom while Aiba follows after him, yelling: “you’re breaking the boyfriend contract!”