On the Fifth Day of Fic-mas
On the fifth day of Fic-mas Dria wrote Gomoto into butterfly_eli’s bed. This is entirely blamed on Eli (and the fact that when at work, Dria invariably ends up needing something to occupy her mind) so you’ve been warned XD
Title: Stockings
Pairing: none (although a passing mention of Kime/Gomoto may have slipped in without me noticing)
Requested by: who would be crazy enough to request something like this? It’s for butterfly_eli though, and she’d better like it ♥
Summary: It’s the morning after the night before for one Gomoto Naoya. Only the night before was Christmas Eve and this morning he’s not in his own bed.
Stirring was a pleasantly delayed experience brought on by lazy sunlight and an easily ignored niggle of discomfort. For several long minutes even stretching seemed like an unwelcome distraction from the warm weight of the blanket on his chest and the soft pillow beneath his head. But all good things must come to an end and on that morning, for one Gomoto Naoya, they ended at precisely the moment he tried to stretch his arms above his head and sit up.
He couldn’t.
His first thought was that he’d slept in a peculiar position, somehow cutting off the blood circulation to both his arms at once and that therefore they weren’t responding as they should. But a few experimental shifts of limbs proved that was wrong. His arms were in a strange position but he couldn’t move them because something was keeping his wrists in close proximity to each other and both were tucked neatly behind his back.
The discovery was enough of a surprise to snap the rest of his drowsy brain into a state of full alertness, or as close as he could manage to alert when he was feeling woolly headed and a little queasy. At least the cause of that was easily explained by the friendly drinking session of the previous night that had involved a number of chest-thumping dares from Souta and Kime getting very friendly in the way only a drunken pop star could manage.
Remembering suddenly what he’d woken up to the last time he’d been drinking to that extent, it was with a degree of reluctance and caution that Gomoto cracked an eye open. The view of pillow and bedside lamp was thankfully free of snoring Tutis’ so he opened the other eye and tried not to stare.
That was not his bedside lamp. In fact, nothing he could see looked familiar at all. The furnishings were too western, the colours too feminine and the pictures on the walls so utterly alien that for a moment he thought he’d ended up in bed with Kime again.
Shuffling cautiously into something resembling an upright position, ignoring the cool rush of air that swept over his bare chest as the blanket slipped aside, Gomoto looked round with more care and found himself forced to admit that no one he knew had a room like this. The only comparable place he’d ever seen was the hotel room he’d taken in New York a couple of years ago but not even that had looked this… homely. Shifting again, arms still refusing to aid him, Gomoto took in the untidy state of the double bed and breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that the other half was blissfully empty. He was beginning to remember a few details about the previous night that were making worrying amounts of sense when combined with the western-style bedroom he’d woken up in and even if Souta had nothing to do with, Gomoto was determined to find a way to blame his friend anyway.
The night before, Christmas Eve as it happened, had seen the three of them in a bar. It had been nothing special, one of those places with unobtrusive music, not enough lighting and enough variety on the drinks menu to keep even Souta happy. They’d all had a lot to drink by about midnight so it had reached the point where Gomoto couldn’t remember what they’d been celebrating or why he was feeling so happy and so when Kime had started introducing him to someone he’d smiled, laughed and offered to buy them a drink.
No, not “them”… “her”.
Gomoto swallowed nervously at the memory, he liked to think that he was always a gentleman especially where women were concerned, but there were worrying gaps in his memory and the last thing he was certain of involved the woman Kime had introduced him to steering him out of the club with a friendly hand on his arm and an inviting smile. He really hoped that he hadn’t done what he was beginning to suspect he’d done, because that just wasn’t… well, fair. She’d been nice and kind of pretty in a foreign sort of way and… and said something about there being a friend of her’s that he had to meet; Gomoto’s memory suddenly supplied the words in strangely accented Japanese and another smile to go with it.
… just what had happened last night?
Now that he strained his memory further he thought he remembered something about the foreign woman offering him a drink from a flask once they’d exited the club into a side alley between it and a take away place. He should have refused, he always did when the flask belonged to Souta after all, but she’d smiled again and said something… something about it reducing the side effects of… of some kind of travel… or maybe he was just imagining that bit?
Looking round again at the still empty room, Gomoto had to admit it was a nice looking place. Okay maybe the tinsel and fairy lights were a bit much but it was the festive season and some people liked to celebrate. He tried to move a bit more, contemplating shuffling to the edge of the bed even though he was unsure as to whether he wanted to explore or not. His arms were still no use and growing stiffer by the minute but now that he was beginning to get used to that there was a new sensation distracting him, something tickling his thighs and...
Gomoto succeeded in kicking off the blanket covering his lower half at precisely the same moment as a young woman chose to open the bedroom door and walk inside. They both swore; he in Japanese upon seeing what he was wearing and she in English, although he had to guess as to what the word actually meant and why she looked so cross.
Gomoto looked from his sheer black-covered legs to the woman and back again, brain noting that she seemed just as surprised by what he was wearing as he was.
‘I’m going to kill Dria the next time I see her,’ the young woman announced, shutting the door behind her very suddenly and edging closer to the bed. ‘I know I said I wanted Naoya in my Christmas stocking but I didn’t mean like this!’
Gomoto blinked. He had a feeling he was going to have to learn a lot of English very quickly.
End
Tomorrow will be Eli’s second fic (I haven’t actually written number three yet, but I will) so expect Gomoto and a couple of the other original cast boys in uniform because she requested a Tenimyu/Tremanthia crossover start running now which was way, way too much fun to write ^_~
So. Two days in North Wales… it would have been fine if a) we hadn’t been forced off the road by a van driver with a death wish on Anglesey and b) my grandfather was capable of understanding any or all of what I want to do with my life.
Problem A occurred while we were driving to my uncle’s smallholding, a small white van pulled out onto the main road without checking to see if anything was coming. Unfortunately something was, it was us. Thankfully my father’s reflexes are fast enough so that he swerved out of the way, off the road and onto the verge. He didn’t even have time to hit the brake it all happened so fast and personally I’m just relieved that there had been a bank for us to drive onto because the alternative was a ditch and somehow I don’t think we’d have made it for lunch if we’d ended up in that. Our car didn’t even get scratched (luckily), but the bastard involved didn’t have the courtesy to so much as stop and make sure we were all okay!
Problem B was... well it’s a recurring thing but I’ve never had to deal with my grandfather when he’s being that stubborn before, and it’s never made me walk out of the room before either.
*sighs* Oh well, I’m too tired to rant about that now. The rest of the trip was good and now I’ve got thirty-six hours off until the next one - visiting my grandmother on Friday ^__^
Title: Stockings
Pairing: none (although a passing mention of Kime/Gomoto may have slipped in without me noticing)
Requested by: who would be crazy enough to request something like this? It’s for butterfly_eli though, and she’d better like it ♥
Summary: It’s the morning after the night before for one Gomoto Naoya. Only the night before was Christmas Eve and this morning he’s not in his own bed.
Stirring was a pleasantly delayed experience brought on by lazy sunlight and an easily ignored niggle of discomfort. For several long minutes even stretching seemed like an unwelcome distraction from the warm weight of the blanket on his chest and the soft pillow beneath his head. But all good things must come to an end and on that morning, for one Gomoto Naoya, they ended at precisely the moment he tried to stretch his arms above his head and sit up.
He couldn’t.
His first thought was that he’d slept in a peculiar position, somehow cutting off the blood circulation to both his arms at once and that therefore they weren’t responding as they should. But a few experimental shifts of limbs proved that was wrong. His arms were in a strange position but he couldn’t move them because something was keeping his wrists in close proximity to each other and both were tucked neatly behind his back.
The discovery was enough of a surprise to snap the rest of his drowsy brain into a state of full alertness, or as close as he could manage to alert when he was feeling woolly headed and a little queasy. At least the cause of that was easily explained by the friendly drinking session of the previous night that had involved a number of chest-thumping dares from Souta and Kime getting very friendly in the way only a drunken pop star could manage.
Remembering suddenly what he’d woken up to the last time he’d been drinking to that extent, it was with a degree of reluctance and caution that Gomoto cracked an eye open. The view of pillow and bedside lamp was thankfully free of snoring Tutis’ so he opened the other eye and tried not to stare.
That was not his bedside lamp. In fact, nothing he could see looked familiar at all. The furnishings were too western, the colours too feminine and the pictures on the walls so utterly alien that for a moment he thought he’d ended up in bed with Kime again.
Shuffling cautiously into something resembling an upright position, ignoring the cool rush of air that swept over his bare chest as the blanket slipped aside, Gomoto looked round with more care and found himself forced to admit that no one he knew had a room like this. The only comparable place he’d ever seen was the hotel room he’d taken in New York a couple of years ago but not even that had looked this… homely. Shifting again, arms still refusing to aid him, Gomoto took in the untidy state of the double bed and breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that the other half was blissfully empty. He was beginning to remember a few details about the previous night that were making worrying amounts of sense when combined with the western-style bedroom he’d woken up in and even if Souta had nothing to do with, Gomoto was determined to find a way to blame his friend anyway.
The night before, Christmas Eve as it happened, had seen the three of them in a bar. It had been nothing special, one of those places with unobtrusive music, not enough lighting and enough variety on the drinks menu to keep even Souta happy. They’d all had a lot to drink by about midnight so it had reached the point where Gomoto couldn’t remember what they’d been celebrating or why he was feeling so happy and so when Kime had started introducing him to someone he’d smiled, laughed and offered to buy them a drink.
No, not “them”… “her”.
Gomoto swallowed nervously at the memory, he liked to think that he was always a gentleman especially where women were concerned, but there were worrying gaps in his memory and the last thing he was certain of involved the woman Kime had introduced him to steering him out of the club with a friendly hand on his arm and an inviting smile. He really hoped that he hadn’t done what he was beginning to suspect he’d done, because that just wasn’t… well, fair. She’d been nice and kind of pretty in a foreign sort of way and… and said something about there being a friend of her’s that he had to meet; Gomoto’s memory suddenly supplied the words in strangely accented Japanese and another smile to go with it.
… just what had happened last night?
Now that he strained his memory further he thought he remembered something about the foreign woman offering him a drink from a flask once they’d exited the club into a side alley between it and a take away place. He should have refused, he always did when the flask belonged to Souta after all, but she’d smiled again and said something… something about it reducing the side effects of… of some kind of travel… or maybe he was just imagining that bit?
Looking round again at the still empty room, Gomoto had to admit it was a nice looking place. Okay maybe the tinsel and fairy lights were a bit much but it was the festive season and some people liked to celebrate. He tried to move a bit more, contemplating shuffling to the edge of the bed even though he was unsure as to whether he wanted to explore or not. His arms were still no use and growing stiffer by the minute but now that he was beginning to get used to that there was a new sensation distracting him, something tickling his thighs and...
Gomoto succeeded in kicking off the blanket covering his lower half at precisely the same moment as a young woman chose to open the bedroom door and walk inside. They both swore; he in Japanese upon seeing what he was wearing and she in English, although he had to guess as to what the word actually meant and why she looked so cross.
Gomoto looked from his sheer black-covered legs to the woman and back again, brain noting that she seemed just as surprised by what he was wearing as he was.
‘I’m going to kill Dria the next time I see her,’ the young woman announced, shutting the door behind her very suddenly and edging closer to the bed. ‘I know I said I wanted Naoya in my Christmas stocking but I didn’t mean like this!’
Gomoto blinked. He had a feeling he was going to have to learn a lot of English very quickly.
End
Tomorrow will be Eli’s second fic (I haven’t actually written number three yet, but I will) so expect Gomoto and a couple of the other original cast boys in uniform because she requested a Tenimyu/Tremanthia crossover start running now which was way, way too much fun to write ^_~
So. Two days in North Wales… it would have been fine if a) we hadn’t been forced off the road by a van driver with a death wish on Anglesey and b) my grandfather was capable of understanding any or all of what I want to do with my life.
Problem A occurred while we were driving to my uncle’s smallholding, a small white van pulled out onto the main road without checking to see if anything was coming. Unfortunately something was, it was us. Thankfully my father’s reflexes are fast enough so that he swerved out of the way, off the road and onto the verge. He didn’t even have time to hit the brake it all happened so fast and personally I’m just relieved that there had been a bank for us to drive onto because the alternative was a ditch and somehow I don’t think we’d have made it for lunch if we’d ended up in that. Our car didn’t even get scratched (luckily), but the bastard involved didn’t have the courtesy to so much as stop and make sure we were all okay!
Problem B was... well it’s a recurring thing but I’ve never had to deal with my grandfather when he’s being that stubborn before, and it’s never made me walk out of the room before either.
*sighs* Oh well, I’m too tired to rant about that now. The rest of the trip was good and now I’ve got thirty-six hours off until the next one - visiting my grandmother on Friday ^__^