Title: Sleeping Over
Note: For svz_insanity, although if you want something better or something else in particular, just let me know, since this one turned out to be kind of random. Happy Birthday, Stacy!! ♥
“I hope your futon’s comfortable enough, buchou.” Ryoma pushed the door to his bedroom the rest of the way open and walked inside.
When Tezuka turned, Ryoma could see him visibly startle. Probably without even thinking about it, Tezuka’s eyes traveled all the way down to the hem of the shirt Ryoma was wearing. Tezuka cleared his throat and closed his eyes. “Echizen, is that what you normally wear to bed?”
“Yep,” Ryoma said, grinning smugly. It was a lie, of course. He wore perfectly ordinary pajamas most of the time. But this was too good an opportunity to waste. Ryoma had “borrowed” one of his father’s old shirts, one of the things he’d worn in America. It was a button-down, collared shirt, white with pale blue stripes running lengthwise.
It was too long for Ryoma to wear as a regular shirt, of course. It was just long enough, though, to make an almost-modest nightshirt. Almost meant that it really could have used a pair of pants to make it decent. Almost meant that Tezuka could almost protest his wearing of it...but not quite.
“I see.” Tezuka sat down on the extra futon that had been brought in for him. Ryoma flopped down on his bed on his stomach and looked over at Tezuka. Tezuka stubbornly refused to look back.
So Ryoma turned over with an exaggerated sigh and pretended to be looking at the ceiling. He posed seductively with one leg up for a minute, but Tezuka didn’t notice, or at least didn’t react, so Ryoma put his leg down. He didn’t want to look like one of those girls in his father’s magazines, anyway. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tezuka take off his glasses and set them on the desk.
“Careful, buchou,” Ryoma advised. “If Karupin comes in, he’ll probably take your glasses. You might want to put them under something, or somewhere he can’t reach.” He rolled nimbly onto the floor between them and crouched on the ground next to Tezuka. “I can take them, if you want.”
“All right. Thank you, Echizen,” Tezuka said. Ryoma held out his hand, and made sure their fingers brushed together when he took the glasses. Tezuka sighed quietly, but didn’t pull his hand away until Ryoma moved.
Ryoma put the glasses on the high shelf of his closet, then walked over and turned off the light. He got back into bed, not bothering to turn down the covers. “Buchou?”
“We almost never sleep together like this.”
Ryoma heard Tezuka let out a breath. “That’s true.”
“Your parents are almost never out of town,” Ryoma pointed out. “And neither are mine. We never get a chance to do this...”
“We should at least sleep in the same bed,” Ryoma said, his voice getting quieter even though he hadn’t meant it to. “Buchou, please?”
“Echizen, we talked about this.” Tezuka’s tone was firm without being angry or annoyed.
“I know. But still.”
Tezuka did answer right away. Ryoma turned his head to look down at Tezuka, waiting. “As long as that’s all,” Tezuka said finally, not saying much, but not leaving room for doubt as to what he meant.
Ryoma didn’t wait for Tezuka to change his mind. He slipped out of bed, feeling his way to make sure he didn’t step on Tezuka. “Here,” said Tezuka, handing him part of the blanket. Ryoma took it and slid in under it.
Without asking permission, Ryoma curled against Tezuka’s side, resting his head on the juncture between Tezuka’s arm and shoulder. Tezuka tensed, and then relaxed, his arm shifting to encircle Ryoma’s waist and pull Ryoma closer. Ryoma grinned to himself. He craned his neck up so that he could see Tezuka’s face. “See? Isn’t this better?”
“Yes.” This time Tezuka didn’t hesitate to answer.
“Will you kiss me good night, buchou?”
Tezuka brushed a kiss against Ryoma’s forehead, so lightly that Ryoma could barely feel it. “Good night, Echizen.” Then he closed his eyes.
Ryoma had intended to ask for a longer kiss, or to say that a kiss on the forehead wasn’t what he’d meant. But he was warm and comfortable, and Tezuka’s breathing was even and rhythmic against him, and his own eyes were flickering shut as he mumbled, “‘Night, buchou.”
Title: Compare and Contrast
Pairing(s): MomoKai, InuKai
Note: This was originally a character study (not only of Inui and Momo's reactions, but Kaidoh's as well), but I thought, why waste it? Hence, it is now a fic.
“What the hell is this?” Momo demanded. Kaidoh tried to pull away, but Momo had him by the shoulder. “I never gave this one to you!”
“Only an idiot like you would remember something like that,” Kaidoh growled, grabbing hold of Momo’s wrist and trying to pry him off.
Momo tightened his fingers and then shoved hard. Kaidoh lost his balance and stumbled, almost falling, then falling all the way to the floor as Momo tackled him. Momo pinned Kaidoh’s arms above his head. Kaidoh struggled, but Momo was stronger when he was angry.
“I never gave you that hickey,” Momo muttered. “I know I didn’t. So who did, huh?” Kaidoh looked away, staying silent, glaring at the far wall.
“Fuck!” Still using his weight to keep Kaidoh down, Momo started nipping and biting viciously at every exposed patch of skin he could reach. Along Kaidoh’s jaw, his earlobes, his neck, and then the little bit of collarbone that was sticking up above Kaidoh’s shirt.
“What the hell are you doing?” Kaidoh snapped, squirming and trying to get away and to get closer at the same time.
Momo didn’t answer. Was it Inui? Probably. Momo didn’t know, and he didn’t care. He kept sucking and licking and kissing everywhere, leaving marks all over Kaidoh, because Kaidoh was his, dammit, and whoever didn’t know that was going to find out.
“Aren’t you warm, Kaidoh?” Kaidoh was still wearing his jacket, even though the temperature inside of the house was set to seventy-two degrees, warmer than the average household.
“No, senpai.” Kaidoh stared determinedly at anything that wasn’t Inui. “I’m fine.”
“I would prefer that you were comfortable.” Inui tugged at the collar of Kaidoh’s jacket, making it slip partially off of Kaidoh’s shoulders.
Kaidoh jerked away, his face turning red. “It’s fine!” He took a step backwards.
“Mm.” Inui followed Kaidoh. He took hold of the jacket collar again. He traced the pattern of bite marks on Kaidoh’s neck with one finger of his other hand. Kaidoh shivered. Inui leaned down and kissed the underside of Kaidoh’s jaw. “I am ninety-seven percent certain that I was not the one who caused these marks.”
Kaidoh’s cheeks were a bright shade of crimson. He pulled away, muttering excuses and apologies about having to use the bathroom.
Inui chuckled and picked up his notebook and pen from his desk. He knew exactly who had caused those marks, and most likely why. And from the pattern of markings on Kaidoh he could determine the positions they’d been in, as well...
He opened the notebook to page ten. On that page, a line read Follow Kaidoh and Momoshiro over the weekend? He crossed out the question mark, and beneath it he wrote, Definitely worthwhile.