Charity for Two
by telegraph50free

He is only being nice.

Shishido-san has always told him he's too nice, too often, like it's a chronic disease he can't help but suffer from. And he really can't, that's the problem.

So he hasn't told Shishido-san. Maybe he's too nice, but he isn't stupid. And he can dance.

Oshitari is close to him in a way that seems to say that he wishes Mukahi had been able to come instead- Ohtori knows this is their kind of music, and this is the way they like to dance. Palpitating sound. Skin to leather hips and hardly any room to breath, pure body heat and fishnet, sweat and saliva, friction- each song throbs from a stage he can barely see across the room, hidden by bodies and smoke and motion—

Ohtori looks across and sees Oshitari dancing with his eyes half-lidded in concentration, glasses abandoned, hair tied back to keep the sticky strands out of his face. He stares at him- Ohtori doesn't know what he's doing anymore, how he's moving. React, react, react- that's all he can do, and they call it dancing- he's not a fool, he can dance—

"Can you dance Ohtori-kun?" Oshitari had stopped him outside English with a tap on his shoulder, nothing more. Not like now, touching anywhere he can, as if satisfying a craving he usually slakes with Mukahi these Friday nights.

"Gakuto's ill, but I still have tickets to a concert. Though it's probably not your thing, is it, Ohtori-kun?"

Of course it isn't it, but now he makes it natural, wearing what Oshitari lends him and trying to help him sate this- as if anything could. Something this primal can't be sated.

Oshitari catches his stare and holds it. He's a good dancer, Ohtori supposes- he ought to be. Oshitari puts his hands on Ohtori's waist and slides his thumbs beneath the top of Ohtori's jeans. He runs each thumb along the ridge of each hipbone, and Ohtori watches, mouth parted, his breathing shallow in time with the beat. Watching Oshitari's eyes, he sees a question there that slips up his throat and darts too quickly off the tip of his tongue, finding its way into Oshitari's ready mouth.

Should I kiss you now?

Monday, Oshitari thanks him and leaves to kiss Gakuto good morning. Glasses on, sweat-less and settled and cool, he has his hands in his pockets.

"You're too nice for your own good," he says, the corner of his mouth turned to suggest a smile. Ohtori is silent for awhile after he disappears, but not long- when it's quiet, he can still hear the pounding in his ears.

Next time he'll listen to Shishido-san more carefully. First though- he smiles, bites his lip- first, he'll have to bring him to a concert.

The End

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