Sleep-induced ramblings
It's good to be back. I've missed the girls (and I'm still missing the_demon_chrno because she's gone home for the weekend!) and their crazy ways ^__^
Tonight I watched them dye their hair while 'Finding Neverland' and then 'Chicago' were playing. I've eaten unhealthily, watched 'Desperate Housewives' *hisses at George* and just stared at my f-list because... trying to catch up after a week away is scary and I'm not sure where to start. May just stick to the translations and... hang on, are there any fics I should have read? Ok, you can tell I'm feeling lazy can't you?
And I'd said I'd been writing didn't I?
Title: Mornings
Characters: Ion and Kime (so one half of the four muses)
For: crazy_squirtle because she was the one who pointed out that Ion and Kime have a kind of big brother/younger sister relationship-thing going on.
Notes: I was bored in Social Life a couple of weeks back and started this off. It got finished while I was at home...
‘Ion.’
‘Ion?’
‘Hey Ion, are you awake?’
A pillow hit the wall beside her head. The accuracy of the missile was quite impressive considering the sleeper was sprawled half on his front and half on his side, legs stuck out at strange angles, wrapped in the sheets as though they were a cocoon and with both arms buried beneath his one remaining pillow.
‘Nice reflexes,’ grinned Kime, bouncing further into the room.
Ion’s fist tightened on his lower pillow, shoulders tensing as the blue-haired girl jumped onto his bed, crossing her legs beneath her and making a grab for Ion’s duvet. Groaning into his pillow, Ion seized the upper half of the duvet and pulled it over his head.
‘Hey!’ Kime jabbed Ion in the middle of his back. ‘You need to get up.’
‘Don’t,’ came the muffled retort.
‘Yes you do. Dria’s got a ten o’clock lecture.’
Ion threw off his duvet, twisting round to frown at the girl who was clearly determined to not let him go back to sleep. His hair was sticking up worse than usual and one hand reached instinctively for the pack of cigarettes that sat on his bedside table before Kime stopped him with a smack to the back of his hand.
‘Don’t do that,’ she told him. ‘It’s time to get up.’
‘How does Dria’s lecture timetable affect me?’ asked Ion gruffly.
‘She’s got Social Life,’ pointed out Kime, grinning again. ‘She’s going to get bored.’
‘And?’ Ion half-slid back down into his cocoon of blankets. ‘Do I look bothered?’
‘She’s going to get bored,’ Kime repeated, syllables dragged out to ridiculous proportions as though this made the matter more important.
‘So what? Her problem, not mine.’
‘But when she’s bored then she’s more easily distracted. You know, with ideas?’ Kime’s voice was wheedling, cajoling and the girl was, for once, right.
Ion sat up. ‘I’ll be ready in ten minutes. Now scram.’
‘Why?’ Kime bounced on the bed twice, her grin widening at her victory.
It was Ion’s turn to smirk this time. ‘Because I sleep in the nude and I don’t want to be responsible for traumatising a mere kid,’ he explained as Kime leapt off the bed, a horrified expression replacing her smile. ‘Now get out.’
‘That’s gross!’ squealed Kime, half-skipping out of the door, calling to the other two muses as she went, ‘Hey Regina, Yatr guess what!’ and getting a blow from a thrown pillow to the back of the head for her trouble.
End
Still paying attention? Have the re-drafted version of part 10 of NB then
Title: Nile Blue Part 10/?? (version 2)
Summary: As before - naked Nagayan in shower - but now with added introspect and... err... nakedness ^_~
For: kooriyoukai who pointed out where I was going wrong in the nicest possible way *hugs*
Notes: The first part is pretty much the same, the changes come in more clearly in the second half.
The space behind the door was cool and dark and blessedly empty when Nagayama was finally able to shut himself into his apartment and put some space between himself and the real world. Kime’s house slippers were sitting next to his, telling him very plainly that he had the place to himself, at least for a while. It was a relief, and for a moment Nagayama felt almost guilty for thinking so, but after the rollercoaster of a day he’d had the enforced isolation was welcome.
Removing coat, scarf, hat, shoes and gloves was a slow process and Nagayama ended up just dumping them on the table when he failed to get the coat onto the waiting peg on the first try. Shuffling slightly in his slippers he headed into the front room without even bothering to hit the light switch, habit telling him where the furniture was so that he didn’t stumble into anything. The bathroom door was exactly where he needed it to be and he half-staggered inside, yanking on the light cord automatically, flipping up the toilet seat and giving a sigh that seemed to announce to the quiet, empty apartment just how tired he really was.
A few minutes later, clothes now screwed up in a corner of the bathroom, Nagayama ducked his head under the welcoming jet of hot water and allowed it to pound the stress of the day out of him. Later he was sure he’d look back on today and think that it had been wonderful. Finding out that Tuti not only didn’t have a girlfriend but, from the way he’d kissed, that he was definitely not straight had come as an earth-shattering shock and as for what happened in the alley… the water pouring down on top of him trickled over what was unmistakably a smile. Yes, thought Nagayama, that was quite possibly the highlight of the day but neither facts stopped him from feeling exhausted as well as happy.
Perhaps Kime had, after all, been right about one thing. It was too long since anyone worth noticing had shown any kind of interest in him. He’d been aware of people he’d met having crushes before, hell he wasn’t totally unaware that he was above average in terms of looks, but those had been fleeting and superficial and they’d never been the sort of people to provoke any kind of reaction from him. That was what made Tuti so different, he sparked something off inside Nagayama that he couldn’t name or identify, there was something about him that was just... attractive.
Eyes closing, Nagayama braced himself against the tiles with both hands as the water pressure increased, hitting too-tense muscles hard until they were forced to relax. Ducking his head down further so that the jet of water was aimed squarely at the back of his neck, Nagayama blinked a couple of times and dumbly watched the water swirling down the plug hole even as more coursed down his back, the temperature turned up until it was almost blisteringly hot on his bare skin that was more sensitive than normal after the chill of being outside.
Thoughts of outside made him think of the alley again, of Tuti’s fingers threading their way through as much of his hair as the man could reach between scarf and hat, of that peculiarly reassuring feeling of being trapped between the wall and Tuti’s body and more than anything else, the fierceness of those kisses. Groaning a little at the memory, the sound so soft that it was almost covered by the splattering of water against skin, Nagayama decided that Kime had definitely been right, it was too long since he’d last had sex.
And yet, when Tuti had made that offer, that ambiguous, partially-uttered offer, he’d turned it down. Why on earth had he done that when just remembering the way Tuti had kissed him was making him flush more than the heat from the shower ever could? He wanted it, wanted Tuti, he’d be stupid to deny it when he was quite literally being faced with the proof his treacherous body was giving him. Was it just that he was tired, worn out from a long day of rehearsals and mixed up emotions, having being thrown from nervous to angry to aroused and then back to nervous again? Was it that some small rational part of his brain was telling him that he’d barely known Tuti a week and that there was plenty of time for that sort of thing later? Or was it just plain, cold fear?
As much as he hated to admit, that was another thing Kime had been right about, Nagayama’s less than stunning success rate with relationships. So he knew he was sick of one-sided relationships and flings that were all lust and no real affection, but if Tuti hadn’t offered... would he? Would he have reached his front door and asked Tuti to come inside? Would he have taken advantage of Kime’s absence and initiated something himself?
Thoughts of pushing Tuti down onto the couch, straddling the other man’s hips and pinning him where he lay so that he could kiss and be kissed while all the time staying perfectly in control, filled Nagayama’s head in a rush that came harder and faster than the water hitting his back. He’d definitely have made Tuti lose that god-awful shirt and fast, if he’d had any say in the matter and the t-shirt could go too while they were at it. He’d seen Tuti shirtless enough times to know what lay underneath but picturing that sprawled beneath him on the couch, as hands tugged on the pockets of his trousers to pull him closer and a smirk spread over Tuti’s mouth before Nagayama covered it with his own... the groan was louder this time, one hand slipping from the tiles to trace an imaginary line down his chest, skin tingling at the feather-light touch even though the fingers belonged to himself and not Tuti.
Was it just that it had been Tuti to offer and not him? Was he afraid that Tuti’s attraction to him was skin deep, a passing fancy that would vanish when they were forced to hang up their starched white kilts a few months down the line?
It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been taken in, thought that there was something more to heated looks and furious kisses than what appeared on the surface. And didn’t they say that appearances were everything in this business?
Not that that had stopped Tuti pushing him into an alley and kissing him until he was sure Tuti had left bruises. Nor had it stopped the man eyeing him up at every opportunity or vice versa. Looking back, Nagayama couldn’t help admitting that neither of them had exactly been subtle and what if that led to problems? They had reputations to worry about, working on a gay musical was fine, the odd hint sent the fangirls more insane than usual after all, but this? This... whatever it was?
Hand skimming lower over damp skin and still tense muscles, Nagayama blinked through the water and wondered whether he could justify calling Tuti his... boyfriend? He hadn’t used the word in... he couldn’t remember how long and while it was sort of a relief it was also unsettling. Even with rehearsals and the performances combined, this job was only going to last three months and then what?
It had hurt, when he’d thought Tuti had a girlfriend it had physically hurt. He knew he was inclined to be cynical sometimes and that while love at first sight and dying of a broken heart sounded nice enough in stories, it never actually happened. Not to normal people anyway. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t hurt, that people couldn’t hurt others if you gave them a chance and even though he hadn’t thought he had given Tuti a chance, when he’d thought... well, it had hurt. Hurt so much he hadn’t wanted to say anything to Kime, much less anyone else. Hurt him even as he’d tried to be noble and make life easier for Tuti before he’d found out he’d misinterpreted the man.
He wasn’t a martyr by any means and was quite capable of being selfish when he wanted to be, but he’d felt almost obliged to stop that kiss in rehearsals earlier. He’d been so convinced that Tuti hadn’t wanted it that it hadn’t crossed his mind that Tuti might have been feeling the exact opposite.
But Tuti had wanted it. Tuti wanted him. As confused and scared as he still was, he couldn’t disagree with that. It was oddly comforting even though it made no sense and held no certainty. Tuti could, after all, go off him.
The thought stung and made Nagayama recoil, jerking his head out from under the jet of water. Where had that come from? Both the thought and the reaction? Hell, didn’t he think he was capable of maintaining the guy’s interest? Tuti was interested. Tuti had made the first step. Tuti had made the offer and had looked like he’d understood when Nagayama had said ‘no’. He’d still been keen to meet up for breakfast before rehearsals, he’d still given Nagayama a goodbye kiss that had left him gasping for breath and he’d still been grinning like a loon when he’d walked off.
No, Nagayama’s refusal hadn’t done any damage to whatever kind of relationship was emerging between them. Not that that told him exactly why he had refused in the first place but... the thought of stripping Tuti in the front room, the bathroom, the bedroom, pretty much anywhere was getting him more aroused by the second and so making conscious thought ever more of an effort. Ideas of how it would feel if Tuti were to strip him of his shirt, those long fingers sliding up his back, pushing the material up and up until it could be thrown to the floor to join Tuti’s own clothing filled Nagayama’s head as he pushed aside whatever circling thoughts were still lingering. He was too tired to think about this any more, too fed up of trying to analyse Tuti’s eccentric behaviour when he knew Kime would tell him to just accept what was in front of him and let tomorrow take care of itself.
Shaking the damp hair out of his eyes, Nagayama plunged his head back under the torrent of water and let himself think of nothing more complicated than being pulled down on top of Tuti. The rough friction of chests flush against one another so different to the smooth movements of his fingers over his own wet skin. Tuti’s arms wrapped round him in a warmer embrace than the one offered by the water. Fingers in his hair instead of water droplets and another mouth meeting his lazily, teasingly, breaking apart to nip sharp kisses on noses, jaws, ears and throats before coming back together for further rough exploration. Fantasy fingers dragged down his spine to the waistband on his nonexistent trousers, searching blindly for a zip that wasn’t there but having to keep stopping because conscious thought was so damn difficult at times like these, when you had the object of your affection half naked on top of you and Nagayama could just see a broad smirk on the face of his fantasy Tuti. The same fantasy Tuti that finally managed to get the zip undone, at last, a minor triumph before having to face up to the larger challenge of pushing the trousers down one-handed. And Nagayama could see himself grinning at Tuti even as the other man cursed him for being so awkward, the curses being converted to breathless pleadings as he kissed a trail down Tuti’s throat, his own hands heading for Tuti’s trousers. Then he’d be unable to stop himself from laughing when he found more novelty underwear underneath. Tuti would frown of course, blame a friend and use Nagayama’s moment of distraction to get him on his back, hands going straight for Nagayama’s trousers and they’d fight to get the upper hand, each trying to strip the other first, all the while still kissing, touching, wrenching groans from the other and laughing at the idle stupidity of it all.
Mentally undressing Tuti got no further for Nagayama then because suddenly the fantasy had done its job. His eyes were open again, the hand pressed against the tiles clenched tight into a fist and his forehead a mere inch from the wall, so close he wasn’t sure whether he’d whacked his skull against the tiles or not he was feeling so out of it. Tipping his head back as far as it would go, Nagayama let the water stream down his front, slowly bringing his breathing back under control and letting the water chase the mess he’d made down the plughole.
He was exhausted and Kime probably wouldn’t be back this side of midnight, if he came back at all. It was time for bed.
TBC
Comments folks?
And just to round things off - random original drabble.
Title: Shot
Character/explanation: Caener Latuus/bodyguard and best friend to King Seon - promises have a way of coming back to haunt you.
Ancient words uttered long ago, long before either had any idea that one day they may have to come true.
Innocent words of friendship and loyalty, comfort and pride.
Painful words that haunt and loom over two lives. Words that underlie a duty, a belief that makes muscles move quicker than they should do, makes reflexes sharper and brings a shield between target and poisoned arrow.
A shield of skin and bone. A shield of warm flesh and red blood. A shield that stumbles back into the waiting arms of the other, duty done, price paid.
I will protect you.
I want to re-do my mood theme... however what I need to do is prepare for tomorrow's Advanced Texts lecture ^_^;
Tonight I watched them dye their hair while 'Finding Neverland' and then 'Chicago' were playing. I've eaten unhealthily, watched 'Desperate Housewives' *hisses at George* and just stared at my f-list because... trying to catch up after a week away is scary and I'm not sure where to start. May just stick to the translations and... hang on, are there any fics I should have read? Ok, you can tell I'm feeling lazy can't you?
And I'd said I'd been writing didn't I?
Title: Mornings
Characters: Ion and Kime (so one half of the four muses)
For: crazy_squirtle because she was the one who pointed out that Ion and Kime have a kind of big brother/younger sister relationship-thing going on.
Notes: I was bored in Social Life a couple of weeks back and started this off. It got finished while I was at home...
‘Ion.’
‘Ion?’
‘Hey Ion, are you awake?’
A pillow hit the wall beside her head. The accuracy of the missile was quite impressive considering the sleeper was sprawled half on his front and half on his side, legs stuck out at strange angles, wrapped in the sheets as though they were a cocoon and with both arms buried beneath his one remaining pillow.
‘Nice reflexes,’ grinned Kime, bouncing further into the room.
Ion’s fist tightened on his lower pillow, shoulders tensing as the blue-haired girl jumped onto his bed, crossing her legs beneath her and making a grab for Ion’s duvet. Groaning into his pillow, Ion seized the upper half of the duvet and pulled it over his head.
‘Hey!’ Kime jabbed Ion in the middle of his back. ‘You need to get up.’
‘Don’t,’ came the muffled retort.
‘Yes you do. Dria’s got a ten o’clock lecture.’
Ion threw off his duvet, twisting round to frown at the girl who was clearly determined to not let him go back to sleep. His hair was sticking up worse than usual and one hand reached instinctively for the pack of cigarettes that sat on his bedside table before Kime stopped him with a smack to the back of his hand.
‘Don’t do that,’ she told him. ‘It’s time to get up.’
‘How does Dria’s lecture timetable affect me?’ asked Ion gruffly.
‘She’s got Social Life,’ pointed out Kime, grinning again. ‘She’s going to get bored.’
‘And?’ Ion half-slid back down into his cocoon of blankets. ‘Do I look bothered?’
‘She’s going to get bored,’ Kime repeated, syllables dragged out to ridiculous proportions as though this made the matter more important.
‘So what? Her problem, not mine.’
‘But when she’s bored then she’s more easily distracted. You know, with ideas?’ Kime’s voice was wheedling, cajoling and the girl was, for once, right.
Ion sat up. ‘I’ll be ready in ten minutes. Now scram.’
‘Why?’ Kime bounced on the bed twice, her grin widening at her victory.
It was Ion’s turn to smirk this time. ‘Because I sleep in the nude and I don’t want to be responsible for traumatising a mere kid,’ he explained as Kime leapt off the bed, a horrified expression replacing her smile. ‘Now get out.’
‘That’s gross!’ squealed Kime, half-skipping out of the door, calling to the other two muses as she went, ‘Hey Regina, Yatr guess what!’ and getting a blow from a thrown pillow to the back of the head for her trouble.
End
Still paying attention? Have the re-drafted version of part 10 of NB then
Title: Nile Blue Part 10/?? (version 2)
Summary: As before - naked Nagayan in shower - but now with added introspect and... err... nakedness ^_~
For: kooriyoukai who pointed out where I was going wrong in the nicest possible way *hugs*
Notes: The first part is pretty much the same, the changes come in more clearly in the second half.
The space behind the door was cool and dark and blessedly empty when Nagayama was finally able to shut himself into his apartment and put some space between himself and the real world. Kime’s house slippers were sitting next to his, telling him very plainly that he had the place to himself, at least for a while. It was a relief, and for a moment Nagayama felt almost guilty for thinking so, but after the rollercoaster of a day he’d had the enforced isolation was welcome.
Removing coat, scarf, hat, shoes and gloves was a slow process and Nagayama ended up just dumping them on the table when he failed to get the coat onto the waiting peg on the first try. Shuffling slightly in his slippers he headed into the front room without even bothering to hit the light switch, habit telling him where the furniture was so that he didn’t stumble into anything. The bathroom door was exactly where he needed it to be and he half-staggered inside, yanking on the light cord automatically, flipping up the toilet seat and giving a sigh that seemed to announce to the quiet, empty apartment just how tired he really was.
A few minutes later, clothes now screwed up in a corner of the bathroom, Nagayama ducked his head under the welcoming jet of hot water and allowed it to pound the stress of the day out of him. Later he was sure he’d look back on today and think that it had been wonderful. Finding out that Tuti not only didn’t have a girlfriend but, from the way he’d kissed, that he was definitely not straight had come as an earth-shattering shock and as for what happened in the alley… the water pouring down on top of him trickled over what was unmistakably a smile. Yes, thought Nagayama, that was quite possibly the highlight of the day but neither facts stopped him from feeling exhausted as well as happy.
Perhaps Kime had, after all, been right about one thing. It was too long since anyone worth noticing had shown any kind of interest in him. He’d been aware of people he’d met having crushes before, hell he wasn’t totally unaware that he was above average in terms of looks, but those had been fleeting and superficial and they’d never been the sort of people to provoke any kind of reaction from him. That was what made Tuti so different, he sparked something off inside Nagayama that he couldn’t name or identify, there was something about him that was just... attractive.
Eyes closing, Nagayama braced himself against the tiles with both hands as the water pressure increased, hitting too-tense muscles hard until they were forced to relax. Ducking his head down further so that the jet of water was aimed squarely at the back of his neck, Nagayama blinked a couple of times and dumbly watched the water swirling down the plug hole even as more coursed down his back, the temperature turned up until it was almost blisteringly hot on his bare skin that was more sensitive than normal after the chill of being outside.
Thoughts of outside made him think of the alley again, of Tuti’s fingers threading their way through as much of his hair as the man could reach between scarf and hat, of that peculiarly reassuring feeling of being trapped between the wall and Tuti’s body and more than anything else, the fierceness of those kisses. Groaning a little at the memory, the sound so soft that it was almost covered by the splattering of water against skin, Nagayama decided that Kime had definitely been right, it was too long since he’d last had sex.
And yet, when Tuti had made that offer, that ambiguous, partially-uttered offer, he’d turned it down. Why on earth had he done that when just remembering the way Tuti had kissed him was making him flush more than the heat from the shower ever could? He wanted it, wanted Tuti, he’d be stupid to deny it when he was quite literally being faced with the proof his treacherous body was giving him. Was it just that he was tired, worn out from a long day of rehearsals and mixed up emotions, having being thrown from nervous to angry to aroused and then back to nervous again? Was it that some small rational part of his brain was telling him that he’d barely known Tuti a week and that there was plenty of time for that sort of thing later? Or was it just plain, cold fear?
As much as he hated to admit, that was another thing Kime had been right about, Nagayama’s less than stunning success rate with relationships. So he knew he was sick of one-sided relationships and flings that were all lust and no real affection, but if Tuti hadn’t offered... would he? Would he have reached his front door and asked Tuti to come inside? Would he have taken advantage of Kime’s absence and initiated something himself?
Thoughts of pushing Tuti down onto the couch, straddling the other man’s hips and pinning him where he lay so that he could kiss and be kissed while all the time staying perfectly in control, filled Nagayama’s head in a rush that came harder and faster than the water hitting his back. He’d definitely have made Tuti lose that god-awful shirt and fast, if he’d had any say in the matter and the t-shirt could go too while they were at it. He’d seen Tuti shirtless enough times to know what lay underneath but picturing that sprawled beneath him on the couch, as hands tugged on the pockets of his trousers to pull him closer and a smirk spread over Tuti’s mouth before Nagayama covered it with his own... the groan was louder this time, one hand slipping from the tiles to trace an imaginary line down his chest, skin tingling at the feather-light touch even though the fingers belonged to himself and not Tuti.
Was it just that it had been Tuti to offer and not him? Was he afraid that Tuti’s attraction to him was skin deep, a passing fancy that would vanish when they were forced to hang up their starched white kilts a few months down the line?
It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been taken in, thought that there was something more to heated looks and furious kisses than what appeared on the surface. And didn’t they say that appearances were everything in this business?
Not that that had stopped Tuti pushing him into an alley and kissing him until he was sure Tuti had left bruises. Nor had it stopped the man eyeing him up at every opportunity or vice versa. Looking back, Nagayama couldn’t help admitting that neither of them had exactly been subtle and what if that led to problems? They had reputations to worry about, working on a gay musical was fine, the odd hint sent the fangirls more insane than usual after all, but this? This... whatever it was?
Hand skimming lower over damp skin and still tense muscles, Nagayama blinked through the water and wondered whether he could justify calling Tuti his... boyfriend? He hadn’t used the word in... he couldn’t remember how long and while it was sort of a relief it was also unsettling. Even with rehearsals and the performances combined, this job was only going to last three months and then what?
It had hurt, when he’d thought Tuti had a girlfriend it had physically hurt. He knew he was inclined to be cynical sometimes and that while love at first sight and dying of a broken heart sounded nice enough in stories, it never actually happened. Not to normal people anyway. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t hurt, that people couldn’t hurt others if you gave them a chance and even though he hadn’t thought he had given Tuti a chance, when he’d thought... well, it had hurt. Hurt so much he hadn’t wanted to say anything to Kime, much less anyone else. Hurt him even as he’d tried to be noble and make life easier for Tuti before he’d found out he’d misinterpreted the man.
He wasn’t a martyr by any means and was quite capable of being selfish when he wanted to be, but he’d felt almost obliged to stop that kiss in rehearsals earlier. He’d been so convinced that Tuti hadn’t wanted it that it hadn’t crossed his mind that Tuti might have been feeling the exact opposite.
But Tuti had wanted it. Tuti wanted him. As confused and scared as he still was, he couldn’t disagree with that. It was oddly comforting even though it made no sense and held no certainty. Tuti could, after all, go off him.
The thought stung and made Nagayama recoil, jerking his head out from under the jet of water. Where had that come from? Both the thought and the reaction? Hell, didn’t he think he was capable of maintaining the guy’s interest? Tuti was interested. Tuti had made the first step. Tuti had made the offer and had looked like he’d understood when Nagayama had said ‘no’. He’d still been keen to meet up for breakfast before rehearsals, he’d still given Nagayama a goodbye kiss that had left him gasping for breath and he’d still been grinning like a loon when he’d walked off.
No, Nagayama’s refusal hadn’t done any damage to whatever kind of relationship was emerging between them. Not that that told him exactly why he had refused in the first place but... the thought of stripping Tuti in the front room, the bathroom, the bedroom, pretty much anywhere was getting him more aroused by the second and so making conscious thought ever more of an effort. Ideas of how it would feel if Tuti were to strip him of his shirt, those long fingers sliding up his back, pushing the material up and up until it could be thrown to the floor to join Tuti’s own clothing filled Nagayama’s head as he pushed aside whatever circling thoughts were still lingering. He was too tired to think about this any more, too fed up of trying to analyse Tuti’s eccentric behaviour when he knew Kime would tell him to just accept what was in front of him and let tomorrow take care of itself.
Shaking the damp hair out of his eyes, Nagayama plunged his head back under the torrent of water and let himself think of nothing more complicated than being pulled down on top of Tuti. The rough friction of chests flush against one another so different to the smooth movements of his fingers over his own wet skin. Tuti’s arms wrapped round him in a warmer embrace than the one offered by the water. Fingers in his hair instead of water droplets and another mouth meeting his lazily, teasingly, breaking apart to nip sharp kisses on noses, jaws, ears and throats before coming back together for further rough exploration. Fantasy fingers dragged down his spine to the waistband on his nonexistent trousers, searching blindly for a zip that wasn’t there but having to keep stopping because conscious thought was so damn difficult at times like these, when you had the object of your affection half naked on top of you and Nagayama could just see a broad smirk on the face of his fantasy Tuti. The same fantasy Tuti that finally managed to get the zip undone, at last, a minor triumph before having to face up to the larger challenge of pushing the trousers down one-handed. And Nagayama could see himself grinning at Tuti even as the other man cursed him for being so awkward, the curses being converted to breathless pleadings as he kissed a trail down Tuti’s throat, his own hands heading for Tuti’s trousers. Then he’d be unable to stop himself from laughing when he found more novelty underwear underneath. Tuti would frown of course, blame a friend and use Nagayama’s moment of distraction to get him on his back, hands going straight for Nagayama’s trousers and they’d fight to get the upper hand, each trying to strip the other first, all the while still kissing, touching, wrenching groans from the other and laughing at the idle stupidity of it all.
Mentally undressing Tuti got no further for Nagayama then because suddenly the fantasy had done its job. His eyes were open again, the hand pressed against the tiles clenched tight into a fist and his forehead a mere inch from the wall, so close he wasn’t sure whether he’d whacked his skull against the tiles or not he was feeling so out of it. Tipping his head back as far as it would go, Nagayama let the water stream down his front, slowly bringing his breathing back under control and letting the water chase the mess he’d made down the plughole.
He was exhausted and Kime probably wouldn’t be back this side of midnight, if he came back at all. It was time for bed.
TBC
Comments folks?
And just to round things off - random original drabble.
Title: Shot
Character/explanation: Caener Latuus/bodyguard and best friend to King Seon - promises have a way of coming back to haunt you.
Ancient words uttered long ago, long before either had any idea that one day they may have to come true.
Innocent words of friendship and loyalty, comfort and pride.
Painful words that haunt and loom over two lives. Words that underlie a duty, a belief that makes muscles move quicker than they should do, makes reflexes sharper and brings a shield between target and poisoned arrow.
A shield of skin and bone. A shield of warm flesh and red blood. A shield that stumbles back into the waiting arms of the other, duty done, price paid.
I will protect you.
I want to re-do my mood theme... however what I need to do is prepare for tomorrow's Advanced Texts lecture ^_^;