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Arakita's always had a thing for Kinjou's hands. They're large, strong, dark against Arakita's pale skin, a nice contrast that never fails to catch his attention. He especially likes when they run down his form, tracing lightly at his sides, squeezing briefly at his hips because he just can't help himself.
He's pressed back against Kinjou, his arms cross in front of him with Kinjou's on top of that. Their hands a linked, left to right, their hips aligned, legs moving as one. They've had over a year of practice and proper lessons (courtesy of his sister, the ungrateful cow) and he's confident they don't look like complete idiots dancing around their living room now.
The lights are dimmed, a sheet thrown over their little desk lamps in each corner of the room, the music soft as they step around and into each other, hands never leaving the other's for very long.
Arakita spins off Kinjou's chest, slow and sensual, his hips swaying with the strokes of the guira. Their hands lift above their heads, fumbling only slightly, though all it does is make the both of them smile. It's the newest move they've been taught and they're clumsy, though they enjoy the closeness it brings.
It's with the slightest chuckle from Kinjou and Arakita's own scoff that they pull themselves together again, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis, legs pressed between each other's. One of Kinjou's hands is placed just below Arakita's shoulderblades, the other holding Arakita's hand.
Arakita can't help but squeeze the shoulder he's got a hold of, grinning at Kinjou as they sway with each other. They're straddling each other's thighs with each slight bend of their legs, slowly turning, cheek to cheek. Arakita can feel Kinjou's breath burning across his ear, can feel the way his fingers curl into the white cotton of his dress shirt.
Their steps quicken, swift and smooth as they turn and straighten, both of their hips swaying as they separate and take each other's hands. They sway a few more beats, eyes meeting and Arakita feels that godforsaken flutter in his stomach as Kinjou smiles at him.
Arakita's always the first to be spun, one set of hands rising as the other separates. It used to bother him, that he seemed to take the girls role more often than not, until he'd admitted how much he enjoys the way Kinjou's hand stays at his waist as he turns, guiding him back into his arms. He allows himself the goopy feeling of warmth that blossoms and drips inside his chest: it's their anniversary after all, and there's no need for denial or bravado when they're dancing like this. They've both talked about how close they feel when they dance. It's somehow easier to smile and treat Kinjou well when they're laughing over tripped feet and clumsy turns. Besides, it's been three years. He can admit Kinjou makes him happy, even if he does snore.
It makes his own heart jump when he feels Kinjou's beneath his palm. It's brief, a slow, sensuous slide of hot skin down Kinjou's neck, shoulder, then chest as Kinjou steps in close after his own turn. Their hands find each other again, clasp loosely, pinkies hooking together as they swing, right then left, two smooth waves that flow from their hands to elbows to shoulders.
He's spun again, both of their hands remaining clasped during, only letting go as Kinjou himself turns. Arakita's hand smooths over the long line of Kinjou's shoulders, from left to right before they're linked again. It's a fluid flurry of whirls for a good few beats.They leave Arakita breathless and Kinjou in much the same state as their hands curl around each other's necks, squeezing fondly before they're trailed lightly down to prominent collarbones and reclaimed.
Kinjou pulls Arakita close, hands at his shoulder blade and shoulder, the same as Arakita's. Arakita loves feeling Kinjou flex beneath his palms and the slow swivel they give their hips allows them the movement so perfectly Arakita almost wishes he had the vocabulary to tell Kinjou just how much he appreciates it.
Instead he presses a kiss to the side of Kinjou's neck. Thankful that they'd forgone their ties after arriving home from their dinner earlier. The first two buttons are undone on Kinjou's dress shirt, daring Arakita to take advantage of the fact. Which he does.
Their movements only slow further still as the song ends and another begins. Arakita isn't particularly paying attention at this stage, his eyes drawn to the line of Kinjou's jaw and the way his Adam's Apple bobs when he swallows. Of the way his glasses do that annoying shine-and-hide-his-eyes thing. None too gently Arakita reaches up to yank them off, throwing them onto the lounge.
One of Kinjou's hands slides around Kinjou's ribs, bunching the fabric in his palm before he has Arakita's cheek cupped in his hand. Arakita can't help but smirk, biting at his lover's thumb as it smooths over his thin lips. Kinjou barely blinks, instead his smile curling up at the corners. They're both leaning in close, Arakita releasing Kinjou's thumb in the process as they come to a stop.
"Would you let me dip you, whilst we do this?"
"No, asshole."
He stifles both their grins with a kiss.