Kis-My-Ft2, Five Times Senga Wasn’t A Bunny

Title: Five Times Senga Wasn’t a Bunny (And Once Nikaido Wasn’t Either) [Nikaido/Senga]
Authors: diamondsjack and mousapelli
Rating/Warnings: R for the two things that rabbits are good for.
Summary: Senga’s not much good with code, and Nikaido is a jerk.
AN: Written in the same universe as diamondsjack‘s NaNo, Hi Tech, Low Intel, in which, as she says, ft2 go pseudo-cyberpunk in a round-robin of virtual idiocy.

Five Times Senga Wasn’t a Bunny (And Once Nikaido Wasn’t Either)


Nikaido, Senga decided, was a bum and a jerk and a meanie.

Senga sat out in the real world by himself for a moment, staying logged off while he huffed with his arms crossed. Just because Senga had declared he was going to be a bunny too and failed to make it happen didn’t mean Nikaido’d had to laugh so hard. It’d been Senga’s first time trying and maybe he was stupid, but success didn’t usually come overnight.

Trying to get different avatars was annoying and lame, and he ignored the little Nikaido voice in his head that was laughing about how kids half your age can do it, loser! Like, kids half of half your age even. At least the real Nikaido wasn’t laughing at him anymore. Senga wondered if bunnies could swim. Because otherwise there would be a drowned bunny avatar in the meadow scenario right now, and Senga would have to wait around by himself for a while until Nikaido woke up from getting forcibly logged off.

Not that Senga would mind. He didn’t want Nikaido dead, per se. No, Senga liked Nikaido quite alive. But an eye for an eye, and an irritant for an irritant, right?

Strangely satisfied by the prospect, Senga activated his netgear again. If Nikaido wasn’t around, then Senga would just practice getting a bunny avatar until he could do it without batting an eyelid. Success didn’t come to those who gave up either.

Alright. Small and fluffy, Senga thought determinedly, eyes closed. I can do this. Small and fluffy — and animal, he mentally clarified, lest he enter the scenario as a ten-years-younger version of himself again. He’d thought ‘small and fluffy’ that first time too, and had been quite offended at his own subconscious for believing that his six-year-old person had fit that description as well. Nikaido had nearly wheezed his little bunny self out of a lung, until Senga had chased him around in chibi form and wrestled him down and threatened to sit on him.

“Try again, you moron!” Nikaido had shouted. “Stop– stop that! Just log off and try again!” And so Senga had tossed Nikaido into a stream, and logged off on the spluttering curses.

Small and fluffy, Senga thought. Animal. Okay, go.


Senga cautiously opened one eye, then the other, and blinked a few times before he understood that his eyes were so far on the side of his head that their fields of vision didn’t even overlap. He looked up at Nikaido for a clue as to whether it had worked or not, but Nikaido’s bunny face didn’t show enough emotion to clue him in, or really show anything besides a twitch of his nose.

He was furry at least, Senga’s fur a light coffee sort of color where he could see it, and small, given how close he was to the grass. The grass smelled pretty tasty, which seemed like a good sign. Senga’s cautious hope was squashed when he tilted his head to look at his paws and saw they weren’t big and furry like Nikaido’s, but delicate, with four little toes. He tried tilting his head a few other ways to see his ears, and when that didn’t work, sat back on his haunches and gave himself a test groom. His ears seemed little as well when his paws touched them, thin and floppy and circular, and not furry at all.

“Well…” Dropping back down to all fours, Senga shuffled around a little and then settled down and nibbled a piece of grass. “It’s close enough.”

“You’re a guinea pig!” Nikaido curled his lip, one ear pointed straight up in indignity. “That’s nothing like a rabbit!” He batted at Senga with a paw, and Senga gave an ear-piercing siren of a shriek that made Nikaido flatten himself in shock with his paws over his ears.

“It’s even better!” Senga declared, triumph written all over his chubby guinea pig face, and he had another piece of grass to celebrate.

“It is not,” Nikaido sniffed. “You can’t hop or anything!”

“I can so hop!” Senga retorted, and gave a couple little spastic jumps to demonstrate.

“That’s the dorkiest hopping I’ve ever seen,” declared Nika loftily, “and you can’t do this either!”

With that, Nika hopped forward to the edge of the hill, and sent himself tumbling end over end down it, whooping with glee as he rolled.

“AT LEAST I DON’T EAT MY OWN POOP!” Senga hollered after him.


The next time Nikaido was out practicing skating with Kitayama, Senga went and found Yokoo for help.

“A bunny?” Yokoo raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you just ask…”

“Because he’s a jerk,” Senga interrupted, crossing his arms and glaring at nothing in particular. “Just because it’s so easy for him.”

“Ah,” Yokoo said. “Well, I suppose we could log on and you can show me what you’ve tried.”

“Thanks, Wataru~!” Senga chirped, and Yokoo grunted as he had to squint a little from the sparkle of Senga’s cute. No wonder he’d even won over Kitayama’s prickly little charge already. “Meadow scenario, okay? Yellow flowers!”

“Yellow…” Yokoo started, then stopped himself with a sigh as Senga busied himself with his netgear. There was really no point in asking him how he was managing to get such specific scenarios but wasn’t able to control the shape of his avatar. That was just Senga.

Yokoo logged on, thinking of a pleasant meadow dotted with flowers (Yellow flowers, he reminded himself with a mental roll of his eyes), and when he opened his eyes and glanced around, that’s exactly what he saw.

That plus a chubby, tan guinea pig next to his foot, nibbling one of the flowers. The guinea pig had a little whorl of hair on the top of his head that made Yokoo snort.

“What?” Senga asked, mouth full. “The yellow ones taste the best.”

“How much time have you been spending in that avatar?” Yokoo inquired. He felt a little out of place in his normal avatar talking to a guinea pig, so he concentrated for a second to toggle his avatar to something more suitable.

Yokoo wriggled his long whiskers in the breeze and flexed his little toes against the dirt, before sitting up on his haunches to talk to Senga on the same level. His long, pink tail curled around his feet naturally.

“No fair!” Senga protested, the guinea pig’s voice making it even whinier. “Nika’s a bunny, Tama-chan’s a hawk, and you’re a rat! Why can I only do a stupid guinea pig!”

“You’re a cute guinea pig,” Yokoo offered, reaching over with a paw to pat Senga’s hair whorl. “Besides, Kitayama’s a hamster if it makes you feel any better.” Yokoo shuffled a little closer, and then started rooting around in Senga’s fur with his delicate fingers. Senga wriggled a little.

“What are you doing?” he asked, giving a surprised hop when Yokoo’s fingers worked down in deep enough to touch his skin. “Are you grooming me?”

“Tcht, I’m looking at your code, idiot,” Yokoo answered. “A rat avatar only has so many social behaviors, you know.”

“It’s a lot like grooming,” Senga sniffed, but the feel of it wasn’t unpleasant once he got used to the brush of Yokoo’s tiny rat fingers, and he went back to munching his flower while Yokoo worked.

“This is actually pretty complex code,” Yokoo admitted after a minute, sounding almost grudging. “If I thought for a second you knew what you were doing, I’d be impressed. This bit right here…” Yokoo’s fingers dug in deeper, and Senga gave a loud, deep purr.

There was a moment of silence, both of them frozen in place.

“Did you just…” Yokoo started.

“Guinea pigs only have so many social behaviors, you know!” Senga snapped, flustered, and he scampered out from underneath Yokoo’s paws.

“Anyway,” Yokoo smoothed out the fur of his belly and flank before dropping back to all fours, “if you want we can go back to my white room and I can show you your code. Maybe if you can actually see the code itself…”

“I won’t understand hardly any of it,” Senga said glumly, somehow even managing to make the vapid expression of the guinea pig seem depressed. “The net just does what I want it to! Mostly.”

“If you aren’t interested in learning,” Yokoo’s voice said plainly what he thought about that, “you could always just have someone code you a skin.”

“Oh!” Senga grinned, ears and hair whorl perking up. “I could do that! Thanks, Wataru!”

“I didn’t really…” Yokoo started, but Senga was already gone, leaving Yokoo alone in the meadow with the yellow flowers. They smelled good at least, to the rat’s nose, and Yokoo tugged one free and tucked it behind his ear before sauntering off to see if anybody else interesting was sharing the scenario.


“What.” Tamamori had blinked when Senga’d paged him asking to visit his blueroom. Senga usually preferred to meet out in proper scenarios — which made sense, Tamamori supposed. Senga was a power user in the virtual world, who didn’t know the 1’s and 0’s behind things any more than a meat cleaver understood the molecular makeup of beef. “If it’s a bunny skin, why don’t you just ask…”

Senga glared at the blue wall-that-wasn’t. “Because he’s a jerk.”

“Oh,” Tamamori said absently, “right.” Of course.

“So will you…”

“Mm… no.”

“Aww, why not?” Senga asked, tone plaintive. “Please, Tama-chan?”

“Why should I?” Tamamori said, as if wondering about the weather as he strung code to code. He wasn’t being mean about it, but it was more like a ‘well, what’s in it for me? Not much I guess’ kind of feeling. “You’ve got nothing I want.”

Well, that was a lie. What Tamamori really meant was he didn’t want anything Senga could give him, but either way.

Because I’m cute and need help? Senga didn’t say, though his voice acquired a deeper pout as he fidgeted a bit. “Well, Tama-chan’s really good with stuff. You can be anything you want all the time… I just want to be a bunny, but I can’t.”

“But why do you want to be a bunny?” The glance Tamamori spared was blandly uncomprehending before he returned to his flatscreen. “Just because Nikaido likes to be one?”

“Well, yeah,” Senga said, frustration surfacing. “I mean that’s all, really. Why’s it so hard?”

“Because you’re not a bunny.” Tamamori didn’t look up. “Nikaido’s a bunny. You’re not. You’re just Senga…” A small frown knit the hacker’s brows as his latest lines of code bungled into a knot. “You guys can still hang out either way. For real, even. What’s the issue?”

“Oh,” Senga said.


“…thanks, Tama-chan,” Senga grinned. “You’re the best.”

When Tamamori sighed, his blueroom was already empty.


The door opened and Senga crept inside, then closed it quietly. Oblivious, Nikaido slept on, tangled in the blankets so that you could only tell he was in the midst of them by the steady rise and fall of the warm lump.

Senga just watched for a moment, grinning, before breaking the silence.

“I got it!” Senga announced. “Nika, wake up!”

“Gnfuh?” Nikaido demanded grumpily, turning his head from where it was buried in the pillow to see what all the noise was about. He glared at Senga’s brilliant grin, still mostly asleep. “You aren’t a bunny.”

“No, but Nika,” Senga leaned in closer, until Nikaido could feel Senga breathing close to his skin, “neither are you, ne.”

“I am so,” Nikaido managed before Senga pressed his lips against Nikaido’s, cutting off his argument and making him snort in surprise. He was startled enough that he did try to bunny for a second, before his sleep-addled brain reminded him that he was not, in fact, online and thus unlikely to turn into a bunny at any time.

Senga shoved at Nikaido until there was enough room, barely, for him to climb into the bed too, still kissing Nikaido. He tugged at the blankets, trying to get under them. Nikaido balked at first, because he was warm dammit, but then Senga bit down on Nikaido’s lower lip and yanked the blankets out of Nikaido hand while his grip was slack.

“Cold!” Nikaido yelped when Senga’s feet brushed his. He scrunched back against the wall. “Go sleep in your bed!”

“Why’d you want me to be a bunny in the first place?” Senga asked, voice all innocence. He slid closer again, making Nikaido whine, but Senga was already warming up and it was half-hearted at best.

You wanted to be a bunny,” Nikaido reminded. “I never said anything about it.”

“I only tried because you wanted me to,” Senga continued, not even bothering to make it a question. “Cause you know, Taipi says that bunnies are only good for two things…”

“I’ve heard, I’ve heard.” Nikaido gave Senga another shove, but it just made Senga laugh and work his way closer into Nikaido’s arms. Nikaido shivered when Senga was close enough to brush their lips together again, his hands closing on the back of Senga’s soft, worn shirt without him consciously deciding to do so. “So which thing did you want?” Nikaido asked, just to be a dick.

Senga pressed his nose into the hollow of Nikaido’s throat, and Nikaido whined at the cold touch. “Boss Tackey says one bunny is more than enough for me, so that just leaves the other option.”

Boss Tackey says…” Nikaido growled, rolling them over so that Senga was flat on his back. Nikaido leaned down to crush their mouths together so Senga wouldn’t continue that line of thought. Senga curled arms around Nikaido’s neck and let him do whatever he wanted, Nikaido was settling comfortably in between Senga’s knees.

A few minutes later, Nikaido had forgotten all about being cold and was tugging off his own shirt, and Senga’s while he was at it, before collapsing back to Senga’s chest and going back to nibbling on Senga’s collarbones to make him squirm. Senga’s erection was digging into Nikaido’s stomach, but Nikaido ignored it, feeling that some retribution was in order for Senga waking him up just to tell him that he wasn’t a bunny.

“Nikaaa,” Senga whined, pushing at his shoulders. Nikaido refused to budge and sank his teeth in a little harder, making Senga yelp. “Nika, stop teasing!”

“You first,” Nikaido mumbled against Senga’s skin, dragging his nails lightly down Senga’s side and making him arch up against Nikaido’s skin.

“But I’m…” Senga interrupted himself with a moan as Nikaido rolled their hips together, “…I’m not! Please, Nika? Touch me?”

“What do I get out of it?” Nikaido asked, glad it was too dark for Senga to see the blush that was heating his cheeks at Senga’s shameless begging.

“I’ll use my mouth on you,” Senga offered. He squeaked when Nikaido’s grip tightened suddenly, Nikaido torn between a rush of jealousy in his veins and the heat that washed through them right afterwards as he thought about Senga’s puffy, pink lips wrapped around his cock, brown eyes staring up at him.

His fingers twitched on Senga’s hip, stalling. “How do you know how to do that anyway?”

“There’s no girls here, remember?” Senga purred, grabbing Nikaido’s wrist and tugging it over, in between them, until Nikaido’s hand was resting over Senga’s cock, pushing at his palm through the fabric. “Please, Nika?”

Nikaido was hardly in a state to argue with that, and pushed Senga’s clothing the rest of the way out of his way to wrap his hand around Senga’s cock. Senga’s skin was hot, and when Nika slid his hand up, damp at the tip. Senga pushed up eagerly into Nikaido’s touch, arms back around Nikaido’s neck, needy noises spilling from his throat.

“Geez, slow down,” Nikaido said, even though he was tightening his grip and moving faster as well, at Senga’s pace. “There’s no hurry, is there?”

“Nika feels really good,” was Senga’s muffled reply, and then he gave another breathy moan and bit down on Nikaido’s shoulder just before Nikaido felt a hot rush over his fingers.

It made Nikaido startle, jump a little, although not nearly enough to shake Senga off as tightly as he was clinging as he shivered himself out. “Give a guy some warning, huh?”

“Mm, sorry,” Senga mumbled, and just as Nikaido was wondering what to do with his hand, Senga let go of his neck and reached down to wrap his fingers around Nikaido’s wrist again. He tugged Nikaido’s hand out from in between them and up, and Nikaido’s eyes went wide when Senga flicked his tongue over Nikaido’s palm.

“What are you doing?” Nikaido demanded, voice strangled. He groaned when Senga licked the length of one of his fingers clean.

“You’ve never tasted yours?” Senga asked casually, but even in the dark, Nikaido could hear the interest in it, and the tease.

“Don’t make it sound like I’m the freak here,” Nikaido growled back, yanking his hand away to wipe it on Senga’s sheets. “So are you gonna hold up your end of the deal?”

“Of course,” Senga answered, leaning up to kiss the side of Nikaido’s mouth, and Nikaido wrinkled his nose but mostly didn’t mind so much as Senga pushed him over to lie on his back. Senga wriggled his way down Nikaido’s body, under the blankets still, until he could rub his nose against the soft, warm skin of Nikaido’s stomach.

“Quit it,” Nikaido said, shivering at the cool touch, but his voice was low, and when he found Senga’s head with a hand, he stroked his fingers through Senga’s mussed hair. “Come on, already.”

“Yes, yes,” Senga answered, laughing as he pulled Nikaido’s cock free and gave it the same tentative lick he’d given Nikaido’s palm. “You taste different than me.”

Nikaido had no idea what to say to that, but it didn’t matter, because the slide of Senga’s mouth over his cock stole all of Nikaido’s breath anyway. Senga held Nikaido’s hips down and explored his skin thoroughly, ignoring Nikaido’s hissed pleas to go faster, harder, anything. It wasn’t until Senga was totally satisfied that he lifted his mouth enough to wrap one of his hands around Nikaido. It only took a few of Senga’s tight, rough strokes to make Nikaido come with a choked gasp, twisting Senga’s hair tight between his fingers.

Falling limp against the mattress, Nikaido let his eyes fall shut, and only grunted as Senga crawled up to flop down against Nikaido’s side, half sprawled again his chest. Senga pulled the blankets back up with him, and Nikaido sighed in contentment as the heat of both Senga and blankets tucked tight around them relaxed his entire body.

“Are you ever something besides a bunny?” Senga eventually asked, voice half-muffled against Nikaido’s shoulder.

“Not usually,” Nikaido grunted. “Why?”

“Yokoo was a rat,” Senga yawned, nose scrunching up, and then tucked himself even tighter against Nikaido, already falling asleep. “With cute whiskers and a long tail and these tiny little paws. He groomed me and it was really nice…” Senga trailed off.

“Groomed you?” Nikaido demanded after a second, but only got a snore in response.

And One Time Nika Wasn’t Either

“Okay, seriously?” Yokoo asked, crossing his arms. “First Senga wants to be a bunny, and now you want to see the code for my rat? What’s going on with you two anyway?”

“Nothing!” Nikaido snapped, cheeks turning pink. “Forget it! I’ll figure it out myself!”

As Nikaido stomped out of the room, Yokoo decided that he was going to have a long talk with Kitayama and Fujigaya about the obvious instability of their charges.


“What’s up?” Miyata asked, squinting a little sidelong at Tamamori the next day. They sat side by side in a quiet cove under the sun, watching the rippling wavelets. Tamamori wasn’t really the type to get pissed off, but they spent enough time together that Miyata could tell when something was the matter.

“Nothing?” Tamamori said, and drew a question mark in the sand.

“Oh,” Miyata said. Well, sometimes he was wrong. But still. “Okay.” He smiled.

Apparently apropos of nothing, Tamamori snerked softly, “Senga asked me for help yesterday.” It only had to be soft since they were the only ones around, but Tamamori’s voice carried kind of nice with the sound of the water.

“For coding?” Miyata asked, quite sure his voice would never sound pretty like that.

“Not really,” Tamamori said. “He couldn’t get himself a bunny avatar, is all. Wanted me to skin him one.”

“Ah.” Miyata didn’t miss the little frown that showed up between Tamamori’s brows. “Did you, then?”

“But why?” It was a cute frown. “He’s not a bunny type and they can hang out no matter what avatar Senga’s in. Like for real, even. I told him that and he was happy enough.”

“Mm,” Miyata said and, aside, began stringing a few simple lines of code together. “Maybe Senga just wants them to be birds of a feather.”

Tamamori raised an eyebrow.

Miyata grinned. “That flock together?”

“Tsk,” Tamamori said softly. “Opposites attract more.”

“Do they?” Miyata laughed, smiling so his eyes crinkled up and disappeared. “Really?”

Tamamori was unsure what (of a great many things) he should say to that. Did Miyata think they were at all alike? Or did…

“Ne,” Miyata said instead. “Cup your hands.”

“Okay?” Tamamori put his hands together. ‘But no funny stuff,‘ his expression added.

Miyata closed his eyes, concentrating to materialise a small money tin, which he placed in Tamamori’s hands.

[ PSYCHIATRIC HELP 5c ], Tamamori read. “…this is?”

Miyata grinned. “For your blueroom.” And didn’t bother stifling his laughter when Tamamori threw the tin at his head.

“It’d be cool if we could hang out too,” Miyata said later. “Don’t you think?”
Tamamori glanced at him sidelong. “…we are now?”
“But for real, like Senga and Nikaido,” Miyata amended.
Tamamori frowned. “…what’s the difference. The point is time spent together, right? An online memory is still a memory.”
“Ah, it is~” Miyata grinned. “That’s true. I feel better now.”
“You’re as stupid as Senga is.”
“Where’s your tin gone? I think I need to make a contribution~”

Be the first to like.

WordPress Themes