someone is sleeping in my bed!!

[infield]

It's morning in EST. But maybe not for you -- A little too late to be sleeping but y'know what? That's okay. People nap. Sometimes the bed is oh so cozy and you want to snuggle under a blanket and sleep forever. And you don't care if it's your bed or not. You're going to sleep. Like a boss.

Too bad someone doesn't agree.


what to do?

i. oh, i know you.

a. Wake them up - You don't care how friendly you are to the person in your bed; they need to get up.
b. Happy Awakening - Such a shame they're so deep asleep when you're in the mood. How about a nice wake up call? (if you don't like smut, keep this to cuddles, kisses, hugs, or reroll)
c. Prank! - Oh, this has just go to stop. They need to be punished. But how?
d. Can't beat 'em, Join them - Push 'em over and snuggle up. You're too tired to deal with this craziness right now. Or sleep on your couch.
e. Let them Sleep - Whatever, it's noon. They're asleep and you got things to do. Regard them or disregard them.


II. who the hell are you???

a. Scream 'OMGWTF GET UP' - While this is probably the default reaction, it's a pretty honest one.
b. Prank! - What a better way for you to remember this moment of meeting than by painting a mustachio on your new 'friend's' face? (Remember, it's your bed. Be wise on what you do.)
c. Gently wake them up - Oh, the poor dears! They must be exhausted but they can't stay here. Be nice, even if it isn't IC for your character. This is what you get for rolling. Shake them up quietly. Or reroll.
d. Get to Know them NON-Biblically - Well, they're asleep. But they left their wallet, important work, or identification out (no matter how OOC it may be)! Let's see who's REALLY sleeping in your bed. (Use your own judgment on what you find. As a suggestion, have the most they find is the sleeper's name and maybe place of work.)
e. Tie 'em up - FUNCTIONAL tying up. Not kinky, no matter what the other party might think. Let them continue their blissful moment of rest. They'll answer questions later and you'll be safe and sound.


III. Decide - fuck the police. You hear me right. Fuck 'em.
You move forward and make your own fate!

Comments

[snowline]

[ The brush of arms makes his fingers twitch reflexively, but his eyes stay stubbornly shut. It's a little bit of a surprise, but it's not a bad surprise. Furuya rolling does draw his eyelids open, and he manages to stare down the length of his nose while lying down. His mouth draws up at one corner while he tries to decide what to say.

In the end he doesn't say anything, shifting to redistribute his weight and make staring (back) at Furuya a little easier.

Dryly: ] Comfortable yet?

[staminaroll]

[Oh, there he goes. It really wasn't Satoru's intention to wake Masamune up if he was down, but his eyes open too easily for him to have been asleep just yet. He looks so determined to not look over that it's almost funny, but Satoru's not stupid. Any hint of amusement is liable to end with Masamune rolling completely away, if not outright getting back up, so he keeps that to himself.

He stills when Masamune shifts, his expression neutral (if still a bit sleepy) when he looks at him. A little flex of his hand has their fingers brushing together, but if absence makes the heart grow fonder, it also makes it wary and he loses his nerve, settling for just that brush.]

Better, yeah.

[snowline]

[ There's a certain softness to Furuya sometimes when he's sleepy - he's often sleepy, obviously, but sometimes he's the awake and wishing he were asleep kind, and sometimes he's the just woke up but still fine kind, and this is the latter. He tries to focus on it, but it's kind of a lost cause. He can't pay attention to Furuya's voice or face when the brush of their fingers has the nerves up his arm on end. When it doesn't come again, his gaze gets a little flinty. All this, and he can't manage that?

Masamune's fingers uncurl enough to bump up against Furuya's, purposeful. His eyes don't move from Furuya's face, though. ]

That mean you're gonna stop wiggling around?

[ Wiggling around like that, anyway.

(Masamune is giving up on sleep.) ]

[staminaroll]

[All this and he can't manage that. Having Masamune out of the apartment for more than a week meant Satoru had a lot of time alone to think, and the things he's thought about have been complicated. How it felt to come home and not have Masamune there... not great. Not what he wanted.

It feels strange to consider that this might be what he wanted, but not bad-strange. Satoru rolls a little more until he's on his side, facing Masamune but considerably closer, and he follows through on the message from Masamune's last touch. He lifts his hand, slides it palm to palm with Masamune's, then wiggles his fingers in between.

All this without ever looking away from Masamune.

The question just gets a non-committal hum, but once their hands are linked, Satoru does let his weight settle into the mattress again.]

[snowline]

[ That's - better, and it's weird to admit that, but then this whole thing is weird. His fingers curl between Furuya's, his grip firm, and he seems to relax with a soft breath.

His free hand reaches out to pat Furuya's hair down - the top's doing something ridiculous, and it's distracting - and trails slowly back, his shoulder still tilted toward Furuya.

He swallows, and rumbles as much as anything: ]

'm home.

[ He almost takes it back, feeling the sentimentality of it right away, but it was right to say, he thinks. That this sometimes volatile rivalry is home, of a sort. ]

[staminaroll]

[Satoru's long ago learned to embrace his weirdness but this isn't weird. If he's honest, it feels more normal than anything has since Masamune left.

He finally looks away from Masamune just long enough to track his hand up, looking back at him as he fusses over his hair. The gesture makes his chest tight with its casual intimacy, none of the careful testing or checking Satoru's found himself relying on lately.

Is it really that easy?

And then Masamune speaks and something in him just gives way, for better or for worse. Even if he took it back, Satoru'd never be able to unhear those words in that tone, so close like this. His own voice is just as soft when he answers.]

Yeah. You are.

[Sentiment for sentiment, but Masamune's made of sturdier stuff than Satoru. He wouldn't take it back for the world, but it's too hard to keep staring at Masamune now, so instead he scoots forward, eliminating the distance between them and tucking his head against Masamune's shoulder. It's not really hiding if you get closer, is it?]

[snowline]

[ He shouldn't have touched Furuya's hair - he wants to do it again as soon as he's pulled back, a tight fondness pulling at his chest. Furuya's verbal response doesn't make it any better, the quiet of it heavy in his ears, and he's struck silent and surprised as Furuya moves.

It leaves him perfectly vulnerable to their new point of contact, and he's still for a moment as he wavers on whether or not to break the calm. His sentimentality wins again - and he gives into the urge to touch Furuya's hair again, petting it gently.

He doesn't say anything, breathing slow. ]

[staminaroll]

[The soft touch doesn't break the calm from where Satoru's nestled himself. It just becomes a part of it, like his own breathing and Masamune's breathing and the warmth of the blankets around them. He could easily fall asleep like this, but for all that it seems like a default setting, he can resist.

Especially when there's a good reason to stay awake. He's still under the attention for a few moments, eyes closed, but in the end his greed gets the better of him.

It takes a little bit of wiggling but he does his best to keep it from being a disruption--he likes that hand on his hand, thank you. Once he's got it free, he rests his free hand on Masamune's chest and curls his fingers into his shirt just a little. It's a gentle grip, easily broken but unmistakable.

There's no point in clinging. This isn't going to last and he knows it, even if it just meant that eventually one of them would have another road trip (though the reality is, he's sure, going to be much more immediate). Anybody else might think it was excessive, the way Satoru let Masamune dominate his thoughts in his absence, but Satoru can't imagine having focused on anything else.

He lifts his head, too, just enough to bump against Masamune's chin.]

Missed you.

[snowline]

[ While things are quiet, frozen in whatever limbo this is, Masamune does something he's not often interested in doing: he lets his focus drift. Trying to take in one thing at a time would mean missing everything else, and that's not what he wants when he feels like this moment - this exact moment, with everything it carries - won't ever come again. His hand stills while Furuya starts moving again, and lingers before it moves. He finds Furuya's elbow with his fingertips, touch feather-light, and lets it settle. It'd be easy to pull Furuya's hand free from here, but he doesn't.

Furuya's not the only person who had to fill in a hole in his day with thoughts of someone who wasn't there.

(He's carefully not thinking about how many times he went back to his room early, waving off teammates, and left some animal documentary playing just high enough to distract him sometimes while he read. How many times he'd left his hand spread across a page and learned something new about finches the night before he came back.)

He draws in breath at Furuya's admission, not quick enough to be totally obvious, but then Furuya is tucked against his shoulder, and knows him, too.

He focuses up on the ceiling when he answers, soft but deliberate, a moment later: ]

Yeah. Me too.

[ His hand on Furuya's tightens for a moment. ]

[staminaroll]

[He's worried for a moment that Masamune's hand moving means he is going to try to shake Satoru's hand loose, but the touch is more gentle than that, almost encouraging him to hold longer. It's not something he's used to, not like this, but it's not the kind of weird that shakes him. It's just a different part of the same sort of feeling.

The change in Masamune's breathing doesn't go unnoticed. It feels like an opening, like a chance. Masamune doesn't demonstrate anything like vulnerability easily and while Satoru doesn't want to give even the impression of taking advantage of that, he's not sure if another moment like this will ever happen. This delicate balance between what Masamune's offering and what Satoru finds himself needing feels precarious but now, right now, there's a chance it could get stronger.

It's too much to imagine asking for anything right now, but he can speak. He squeezes back and tightens his fingers in Masamune's shirt, then scoots his head back a little, away from Masamune's neck but still on his shoulder. He wants to be able to see his face.]

I want to stay... with you.

[His tone is honest, but there a quiet nervousness there. He can't ask him to stay or that they be together, whatever that'd mean, but he can share the one thing that was clearer than anything else while Masamune was gone. Satoru just likes everything--grocery shopping, laundry... napping--better when Masamune's there.]

[snowline]

[ Masamune's quiet in the wake of his admission, content with resettling his breathing and refamiliarizing himself with the hard to describe feeling that is sharing space with Furuya again after days of being apart.

Not that Furuya seems content to let him do it, since he's shifting again, and Masamune tilts his head, eying him with a barely-gathering stormcloud that dissipates when he actually speaks. The split-second, bare expression of surprise on his face lingers a moment too long, and he looks away, mouth turned down. That softness, that vulnerability, is something that comes easier to Furuya than to him. That he feels even the barest temptation toward echoing his sentiment is all he thinks he can manage, so instead, he speaks again, eyes carefully averted. ]

Do what you want.

[ Nonetheless, his fingers between Furuya don't loosen, and his thumb moves in a slow stroke. ]

[staminaroll]

[Satoru's not exactly expecting a swell of violins and for rose petals to start falling around them. He's not even sure he expects a response. Maybe a grunt of acknowledgement and, more likely, a withdrawal on Masamune's part. It wouldn't be the first time he'd misread the atmosphere and inadvertently pushed for more than Masamune was willing to give, after all.

But it doesn't happen. He sees the threat of it, but also the instant it becomes obvious that that's not going to happen. He doesn't even let go of his hand, and what's more, he gives him an even bigger opening. Sure, he looked away, but he told Satoru to do what he wants.

There's really only one thing he's wanted to do since Masamune quietly announced he was home.

The fidgeting will probably annoy him but it's the only way for Satoru to get into a position to kiss him, which he does. It's a gentle, casual kind of kiss, the kind he could see himself giving Masamune in a year or ten, welcoming him home from another road trip. He doesn't linger at it, starting to lay back down almost immediately after, but if Masamune's unhappy about Satoru's reaction to being given freedom, well, he brought that on himself.]

[snowline]

[ He knows, of course, that he'd been asked for, and given, his permission for this - this - this whatever this is - to continue. He hadn't intended it as a carte blanche, but it's not as if Furuya needs his permission to do whatever he wants, given the chance.

He shifts to look back as Furuya starts squirming again, huffing through his nose. Why is that he's usually perfectly happy to laze around except for when he's sharing a bed with Masamune? He opens his mouth to ask if he's going to be able to go five minutes between moving all over when he's interrupted.

They've been skirting that - this - since Furuya refused to move when poked away. The urge had burned low and sweet in his joints, and he'd let it simmer, like he lets a lot of things simmer, but the cover's off now. Usually the moments he refuses to put a name to are moments of passion, spurred by the stickiness of their rivalry and the sexual tension that doesn't dissipate because they're sharing an apartment. This... this is none of the above, a soft buzz more than an electric shock.

His hand slides slow up the line of Furuya's arm from his elbow in the wake of it, fingers tracing the seam where his sleeve stops, and his grip tightens on Furuya's bicep, enough to yank him back from retreating. Like hell he's letting Furuya start something like that and leave it unfinished.

He's unhurried as he returns the favor, unsatisfied with the bare minimum in this as in everything else. ]

[staminaroll]

[He wasn't really trying to run away. Satoru just wanted to make sure Masamune felt like he had whatever space he wanted after that. He knows it wasn't meant to be an open door to do whatever he liked, after all. That doesn't mean he's unhappy about Masamune's response either, though. It really couldn't be more welcome.

The touch on his arm draws him in closer, not that there was a lot of room to begin with, but otherwise there's only a low, consistent sense of heat between them. Normally, this comes in spikes, suddenly there and just as suddenly gone, but this feels more like a wave. Part of him is almost more... unsettled by that. Satoru runs hot and cold and he's gotten used to the way Masamune can too, though he can acknowledge the role he plays in that, pushing him into acting. Masamune's the consistent one; it's how Satoru knows when his pushing is working.

Something like this, though, a quiet familiar intimacy with nothing to bother them but the pounding of the rain on the window, this didn't come from pushing. He doesn't want it to stop or even to escalate, not really, but that also means not thinking about any other possibility of what comes next. Instead, Satoru just kisses and kisses, straightening his legs until his ankles are tangled with Masamune's and riding the wave for as long as it's going to roll.]