A kinkmeme for Digimon Adventure

Daisuke woke with a headache cracking his skull in two, even worse than the one from his own birthday two months ago, which was frankly impressive given how much he’d managed to down even as Ken sat in the corner sipping at his glass of water, and wasn’t it funny that *Ken* was the youngest of their year and also refused to drink before it was proper?
And then the *thoughts* of Ken started, his pounding head supplying with a few too lifelike image of Ken with his arms spread out beside his head, rocking back and forth with his hair framing his moaning face, and Daisuke slapped his cheeks a few times. Focus. He rolled over in his bed, only to find himself staring at Ken’s *real, actual* face, his eyes closed but mouth just as alluring and open as he breathed and *why was Ken sleeping in his bed*.
He wracked his brain trying to find an answer, but everything after Mimi had started a drinking game from America he couldn’t quite remember any of the rules of was a blur of colors and shapes. But Ken was *definitely* in bed with him.
Maybe they’d literally just slept together? They did that all the time.
At Ken’s house, where they had the excuse of Ken’s loft bed not being conducive to talking late into the night. Not here, where there was a perfectly good guest futon.
Come to think of it, why *was* Ken at his house? He thought for sure he had said he would catch the last train home.
A flash of him begging Ken to stay, Ken giving him one of those exasperated smiles where he knew Ken was just pleased as punch inside but struggling to say it, clacking teeth and lips, the way Ken tasted like a pleasant mix of hard alcohol and strawberries as he delved into his mouth had him sitting bolt upright, and it was only then he realized that Ken was *naked* under the sheets.
Daisuke jumped out of the bed, forcing himself to confront the fact that he was *also naked*, trying not to spiral into a panic about how little he could remember and how it looked. He grabbed some random clothes and bolted to the shower room, needing to get himself together and hopefully try and piece some more memories into place.
He couldn’t have done it. He *didn’t*. That would make him - *awful*. It was Ken’s first time drinking, and if he’d taken advantage of that, he didn’t know what he would do.
Bile worked its way up his throat and he was lucky he was heading to the bathroom anyway because at that moment his body decided to expel the last of the poison inside it.
As he panted into the toilet, Daisuke tried to calm down. He didn’t *remember* doing much more than kissing Ken, maybe they’d just gotten - naked and then stopped. That could be salvaged. Especially if Ken didn’t remember being kissed.
His memories took on a darker tinge, Ken’s head lolling back and forth and barely coherent as Daisuke dove in and took more and more from him and *god* even that was *awful* what had he been thinking -
He hadn’t been thinking very much at all. That was kind of the point of getting drunk, wasn’t it.
He ducked into the shower room proper, clicking the glass door shut as he turned the water on maximum heat. He checked his body, finding incriminating bits of dry stickiness over his abdomen and groin, leaning against the wall of the shower as he soaped the evidence off.
Had he - *penetrated* Ken? Maybe he’d just come on both of them. That would be *bad*, Ken would have every right to want to distance from him, but maybe they could salvage something of their friendship from it. He could beg Ken’s forgiveness and Ken would give it to him because he was such a kind, generous person, and of course Daisuke didn’t *mean* to do - it.
That was really just a little white lie. Of course Daisuke hadn’t *meant* to do it like this. Ken wouldn’t have to know he’d *wanted* to do things with Ken for years. He could pretend it was all the alcohol, doing shit to both of them.
He washed away the salty tracks running down his cheeks and finished up, dressing to go back, assess the damage he’d done again.
Ken was just waking up as he entered his room, closing the door with a resounding click. Ken turned on his side and fluttered his eyes open, his chest glistening in the sunrise even as he hissed and shielded his sensitive eyes from the glaring light.
“Daisuke?” Ken’s voice cracked and Daisuke brought over the glass of water and eve-a he’d picked up from the kitchen.
“These’ll help with the headache.”
“Thank you.” Ken looked at him with that grateful smile he always gave him for the simplest, easiest kindnesses and Daisuke had to turn away, making a pretense of closing the curtain a bit tighter.
He wondered if Ken had *noticed* anything yet. If he was just as sticky and messy under the covers as Daisuke had been. If he was *worse*.
He sat down at his desk, nerves preventing him from breaching the topic. He should say something, *anything*, not being a coward like this.
But Ken was going to leave, probably forever if he were being honest, and he wanted to at least memorize the way he fit in his bed before that.
“Daisuke...do you remember what happened last night...” And Ken ended up far braver than him anyway.
“Not much.” Daisuke clenched his fists over his knees, trying to be as honest as possible. Ken deserved that. “I think...I did some...stuff....”
To his surprise, Ken’s hand covered his own, and he looked up to find him sitting on the very edge of his bed, *smiling* at him. “Thank you.”
Daisuke’s heart hammered in his chest, earning a flicker of concern on Ken’s face as he felt their patterns skip over the top of their connection. Then his face fell, red as his locks of blue-back shimmering hair hid it from Daisuke’s gaze.
“...Are you upset?”
Was *he* upset? Was **he** upset? “I’m so sorry, Ken. I shouldn’t have had so much to drink, then I wouldn’t have - “
“ - you didn’t - you - *wanted* to, right?”
“It was wrong. I shouldn’t have even *kissed* you, let alone - “
“ - *I* kissed *you*.” Ken cut him off, and Daisuke could hear the faintest bit of a sniffle at the end.
This was rapidly spiraling out of his control. But he couldn’t let Ken cry. “Please don’t be sad. I’ll make it up to you, make it better.”
He cupped Ken’s face and lifted it so he could see him again, see his watery eyes brimming with life, their brilliant blue wider than usual with the after-effects.
Ken chewed his lip, pausing for far longer than he thought he would. “So...you’ll kiss me again?”
His heart skipped a beat. Of all the ways he’d thought of this going in the shower, this wasn’t one of them.
Kissing Ken was the only thing he’d wanted to do for a long time.
“You - you *want* me to?”
“Will you - make love to me again? To be honest... I can’t remember it that well, either. I want to remember it.”
He couldn’t deny Ken anything after that.