[Nobuta wo Produce] Warmer Together, Shuuji/Akira/Nobuta
Title: Warmer Together
Pairing: Nobuta/Shuuji/Akira
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It’s the night after.
Notes: For asinful who asked for a ficlet about the night after Guilt Free At Three AM takes place.
I write slowly, but I swear I'll get to the other ones soon. Speed betaed by seito_no_senshi
The first thing Akira does when they’re getting ready for bed is to rifle through Shuuji’s wardrobe to find some pyjamas to wear.
(“Where’s yours?” Shuuji asks in exasperation.
“Forgot them,” Akira says absently, pulling out one of Shuuji’s old flannel shirts. He rubs it between his fingers and after a moments thought, rubs it against his face as well. “It’s soft!” he exclaims. “I want this!”
“Those aren't pyjamas -” Shuuji starts to say, but seeing the way Nobuta curiously fingers a corner of the shirt, he sighs. “Whatever. Keep it.”)
When Akira’s done with picking out all their pyjamas (“Nobuta is not wearing boy clothes to bed!”), he commandeers Shuuji’s bathroom. Akira has a strange ritual where he does things in a certain order (Shuuji often wonders what he does in there, but he suspects that it’s better for his sanity if he doesn’t ask). It takes forever so by the time Akira’s done in the bathroom, Shuuji’s already crawled into bed and turned off the lights.
Pouting when he realizes Shuuji’s gone to bed without him, Akira scrambles into bed and slings an arm around Shuuji’s waist comfortably.
Shuuji bats away his arm half-heartedly and only sighs when Akira insistently slips an arm around his waist anyway. Turning around to properly convey what he thinks about Akira’s space invading ways, Shuuji notices that Nobuta’s still standing besides the bed hesitantly.
“Nobuta?”
“Bed, Nobuta! Shuuji’s bed is comfy!” Akira says, craning his neck to peer at Nobuta.
Nobuta regards the ground silently for a long moment.
“Is - is it okay?” she finally asks, looking up at them through her fringe.
Shuuji smiles warmly. “Akira doesn’t bite,” he says and Akira squawks indignantly. (“Of course Akira doesn’t bite! Shuuji’s mean.”)
Smiling a little, Nobuta quietly slips into bed.
***
They’re a tumble of limbs and warm flannel on Shuuji’s small bed. Shuuji curls up against the wall, facing away from Akira who’s hogging all the pillows. Akira buries his nose in Shuuji’s neck and occasionally snuffles quietly in his sleep, mumbling strange things which make him reflexively tighten his grip on Shuuji’s waist.
Nobuta’s slightly further away on the very edge of Shuuji’s bed. Her hands are tightly fisted in the flannel shirt Akira’s wearing and she’s wide awake, staring up at Shuuji’s ceiling. It’s not a very interesting ceiling, as ceilings go, but Akira’s hung a cardboard pig up on a string and the pig sways a little when Nobuta gently taps at it.
Akira makes a noise next to her and rolls over in his sleep. Nobuta lets go of his shirt in surprise when one hand finds hers and interlaces their fingers.
“It’s cold,” he murmurs and pulls her to him, his eyes still closed. “We’re warmer together.”
“Come in Nobuta,” Shuuji says sleepily from the other side of Akira, sliding a hand under Akira’s arm, beckoning to her.
Nobuta stares wordlessly at Shuuji’s hand and his pineapple hair style (which is all she can make out from the dim lights of the street lamps outside Shuuji’s window) and Akira’s face, smooth and child like and still.
She reaches out, and they’re all connected again.
Haha, I commit the fandom sin of cross posting to two places. Do you hate me yet?
Pairing: Nobuta/Shuuji/Akira
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It’s the night after.
Notes: For asinful who asked for a ficlet about the night after Guilt Free At Three AM takes place.
I write slowly, but I swear I'll get to the other ones soon. Speed betaed by seito_no_senshi
The first thing Akira does when they’re getting ready for bed is to rifle through Shuuji’s wardrobe to find some pyjamas to wear.
(“Where’s yours?” Shuuji asks in exasperation.
“Forgot them,” Akira says absently, pulling out one of Shuuji’s old flannel shirts. He rubs it between his fingers and after a moments thought, rubs it against his face as well. “It’s soft!” he exclaims. “I want this!”
“Those aren't pyjamas -” Shuuji starts to say, but seeing the way Nobuta curiously fingers a corner of the shirt, he sighs. “Whatever. Keep it.”)
When Akira’s done with picking out all their pyjamas (“Nobuta is not wearing boy clothes to bed!”), he commandeers Shuuji’s bathroom. Akira has a strange ritual where he does things in a certain order (Shuuji often wonders what he does in there, but he suspects that it’s better for his sanity if he doesn’t ask). It takes forever so by the time Akira’s done in the bathroom, Shuuji’s already crawled into bed and turned off the lights.
Pouting when he realizes Shuuji’s gone to bed without him, Akira scrambles into bed and slings an arm around Shuuji’s waist comfortably.
Shuuji bats away his arm half-heartedly and only sighs when Akira insistently slips an arm around his waist anyway. Turning around to properly convey what he thinks about Akira’s space invading ways, Shuuji notices that Nobuta’s still standing besides the bed hesitantly.
“Nobuta?”
“Bed, Nobuta! Shuuji’s bed is comfy!” Akira says, craning his neck to peer at Nobuta.
Nobuta regards the ground silently for a long moment.
“Is - is it okay?” she finally asks, looking up at them through her fringe.
Shuuji smiles warmly. “Akira doesn’t bite,” he says and Akira squawks indignantly. (“Of course Akira doesn’t bite! Shuuji’s mean.”)
Smiling a little, Nobuta quietly slips into bed.
***
They’re a tumble of limbs and warm flannel on Shuuji’s small bed. Shuuji curls up against the wall, facing away from Akira who’s hogging all the pillows. Akira buries his nose in Shuuji’s neck and occasionally snuffles quietly in his sleep, mumbling strange things which make him reflexively tighten his grip on Shuuji’s waist.
Nobuta’s slightly further away on the very edge of Shuuji’s bed. Her hands are tightly fisted in the flannel shirt Akira’s wearing and she’s wide awake, staring up at Shuuji’s ceiling. It’s not a very interesting ceiling, as ceilings go, but Akira’s hung a cardboard pig up on a string and the pig sways a little when Nobuta gently taps at it.
Akira makes a noise next to her and rolls over in his sleep. Nobuta lets go of his shirt in surprise when one hand finds hers and interlaces their fingers.
“It’s cold,” he murmurs and pulls her to him, his eyes still closed. “We’re warmer together.”
“Come in Nobuta,” Shuuji says sleepily from the other side of Akira, sliding a hand under Akira’s arm, beckoning to her.
Nobuta stares wordlessly at Shuuji’s hand and his pineapple hair style (which is all she can make out from the dim lights of the street lamps outside Shuuji’s window) and Akira’s face, smooth and child like and still.
She reaches out, and they’re all connected again.
Haha, I commit the fandom sin of cross posting to two places. Do you hate me yet?