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]

[ 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.]