#osaaka - drunk kiss Keiji, a workaholic who regularly forgets to eat proper meals no matter how much Osamu fusses at him, is, unsurprisingly, a lightweight. When he gets dragged out by his colleagues to the nearest pub, he lasts one and a half beers before Osamu

gets an incoherent text to "giddyup." Osamu shakes his head, makes up a quick snack of Keiji's favorites and puts on his jacket to go rescue him from the pub and the company of editors who are just as bad at work-life balance. Keiji's a lightweight and it's terrible. Normally

stoic and by all accounts a very private person, when he's tipsy he's far more expressive and even a little handsy. That /leer/ over his glasses when Osamu finds and approaches their table. The fingers that hook into his beltloop when Osamu helps Keiji up from his seat and

guides him out the door. The /leaning/, pressing bodily into Osamu's side and sliding his arm under Osamu's jacket to cling to his waist. Osamu struggles to keep focus the whole way to Keiji's apartment, but gets him safely to his door like a gentleman.

"Come in?" Keiji whispers, arms looping around Osamu's neck and wearing a flirty curl to his lips, an expression that Osamu's pretty sure Keiji's sober self isn't aware he can make. Osamu shakes his head. "Nah. Eat this, drink water and go right to bed, ya hear?" He holds out

the sack of food and bottled water. Keiji's eyes narrow, face shifting to a snarl. Ignoring the offering, he pushes his glasses up to rest in his hair, grips Osamu's jacket lapels in his fists, and pulls him right in for a kiss. He still tastes of beer, and for all his swaying

during the walk home the kiss is passionate, demanding, and altogether too erotic for Osamu to resist despite the public location right in front of Keiji's apartment door. Keiji pulls away, licking his lips. "Come in?" he repeats, confident that he's made his point.

After a kiss like /that/, Osamu's the one unsteady on his feet. He's glad for the shadows that partially hide his heated cheeks as he tries to catch his breath. Keiji smirks up at him, fingers teasing the back of Osamu's neck. Osamu swallows. "Guess I could be convinced."

Keiji traces his thumb over Osamu's lips. "Good boy." He smirks, handing over his keys. Osamu shivers with desire, hands a little clumsy as he opens the door and lets Keiji pull him inside.