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writetomyheart2013-02-16 12:31 am
miquilis.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2013-02-16 12:31 am
Entry tags:
[team 1] wood
It's not completely clear but I intended for this to be set sometime during one of the pre-debut tours.
-
“So...” Kitayama starts, “I guess two of us will have to share.”
“I don’t mind.” Miyata speaks up immediately, paired with a wide broad smile, happy to be constantly accommodating.
Tamamori in contrast wants to throw a fit.
Already tired and drawn from late soundchecks followed by extra choreography rehearsals for an altered stage layout he wants someone to unleash the frustration at — maybe manager for forgetting to request an extra cot from the hotel or Kitayama for constantly shuffling around sleeping arrangements — but all that comes out instead from Tamamori is a sharp tsk and as Miyata moves to put his bag down on the bed closest to the window Tamamori finds himself naturally following in his direction.
“It’s easier to talk this way.” Miyata reasons optimistically once they’re in bed, the lights off “We don’t have to worry about waking Kitayama and I promise still that I won’t fall asleep first.” but Tamamori wishes internally for once Miyata would instead of watching him so closely barely a breath away. They talk only briefly about the day, worry together over the newly introduced skate tricks and if they can pick them up by tomorrow, but conversation halts more than it flows, both bumbling.
Sleep comes difficulty, even facing away towards the window Tamamori is too aware of Miyata’s presence — their feet bump, and their hands brush and Tamamori feels each dip and bounce in the mattress as Miyata tosses and turns, can smell Miyata, can feel his body heat transferring and warming the sheets and seeping under his skin.
Further unforeseen consequences arise in the early morning. Literally.
In it’s sleep addled state Tamamori’s mind only registers the factors in stages; the arm draped around his waist, the large nose brushing along his hairline, Miyata’s unconscious body flush against his back, their legs entangled and then finally the poke of Miyata’s morning erection into his side. His friend more endowed than Tamamori knew.
Tamamori tries to shift away but the arm around his waist holds strong and pulls him in tighter, presses Miyata’s erection hard into the cleft of his ass and Tamamori struggles to bite down an unconscious moan. It’s a surprise when Miyata, still asleep, echoes back with a low soft groan of his own smothered into the curve of Tamamori’s shoulder. “Are you dreaming idiot?” Tamamori whispers and Miyata just murmurs nonsense noises in reply, lips brushing along Tamamori’s nape, his fingers tightening and relaxing curling against Tamamori’s skin as his hips move in slow circle grinding against Tamamori’s ass daringly.
"Is it about me?" Tamamori adds on to his previous question. Miyata's unconscious actions are bold and brass but there's something gentle in his touch, a feeling, and maybe it's just his imagination but some of his murmurs sound a little like Tamamori's name.
It’s easy to detect the exact moment Miyata stirs away. His whole body turns stiff with alarm and after a slow beat of recognition he untangles his limbs from Tamamori’s and scurries and rolls away to the far side of the bed.
Hours later during a needed water break manager seeks the three of them out to inquire how the night went with only two beds. There’s still no spare cot and Kitayama shrugs that he’s obviously fine with the situation for another night and turns his attention back to his phone. Miyata mumbles something unclear and bends down to tie and untie and retie a shoelace but Tamamori can see through his fallen bangs the blush streaking across the bridge of his nose. He's yet to make eye contact with Tamamori even once today and Tamamori's finding it hard to fight back the urge to tease, to pretend he was asleep throughout and unaware of what took place.
Manager looks pointedly at Tamamori for a clear answer the decision somehow falling to him.
“I’m fine with the arrangement.”
-
(～・ω・)～ LTGMars
-
“So...” Kitayama starts, “I guess two of us will have to share.”
“I don’t mind.” Miyata speaks up immediately, paired with a wide broad smile, happy to be constantly accommodating.
Tamamori in contrast wants to throw a fit.
Already tired and drawn from late soundchecks followed by extra choreography rehearsals for an altered stage layout he wants someone to unleash the frustration at — maybe manager for forgetting to request an extra cot from the hotel or Kitayama for constantly shuffling around sleeping arrangements — but all that comes out instead from Tamamori is a sharp tsk and as Miyata moves to put his bag down on the bed closest to the window Tamamori finds himself naturally following in his direction.
“It’s easier to talk this way.” Miyata reasons optimistically once they’re in bed, the lights off “We don’t have to worry about waking Kitayama and I promise still that I won’t fall asleep first.” but Tamamori wishes internally for once Miyata would instead of watching him so closely barely a breath away. They talk only briefly about the day, worry together over the newly introduced skate tricks and if they can pick them up by tomorrow, but conversation halts more than it flows, both bumbling.
Sleep comes difficulty, even facing away towards the window Tamamori is too aware of Miyata’s presence — their feet bump, and their hands brush and Tamamori feels each dip and bounce in the mattress as Miyata tosses and turns, can smell Miyata, can feel his body heat transferring and warming the sheets and seeping under his skin.
Further unforeseen consequences arise in the early morning. Literally.
In it’s sleep addled state Tamamori’s mind only registers the factors in stages; the arm draped around his waist, the large nose brushing along his hairline, Miyata’s unconscious body flush against his back, their legs entangled and then finally the poke of Miyata’s morning erection into his side. His friend more endowed than Tamamori knew.
Tamamori tries to shift away but the arm around his waist holds strong and pulls him in tighter, presses Miyata’s erection hard into the cleft of his ass and Tamamori struggles to bite down an unconscious moan. It’s a surprise when Miyata, still asleep, echoes back with a low soft groan of his own smothered into the curve of Tamamori’s shoulder. “Are you dreaming idiot?” Tamamori whispers and Miyata just murmurs nonsense noises in reply, lips brushing along Tamamori’s nape, his fingers tightening and relaxing curling against Tamamori’s skin as his hips move in slow circle grinding against Tamamori’s ass daringly.
"Is it about me?" Tamamori adds on to his previous question. Miyata's unconscious actions are bold and brass but there's something gentle in his touch, a feeling, and maybe it's just his imagination but some of his murmurs sound a little like Tamamori's name.
It’s easy to detect the exact moment Miyata stirs away. His whole body turns stiff with alarm and after a slow beat of recognition he untangles his limbs from Tamamori’s and scurries and rolls away to the far side of the bed.
Hours later during a needed water break manager seeks the three of them out to inquire how the night went with only two beds. There’s still no spare cot and Kitayama shrugs that he’s obviously fine with the situation for another night and turns his attention back to his phone. Miyata mumbles something unclear and bends down to tie and untie and retie a shoelace but Tamamori can see through his fallen bangs the blush streaking across the bridge of his nose. He's yet to make eye contact with Tamamori even once today and Tamamori's finding it hard to fight back the urge to tease, to pretend he was asleep throughout and unaware of what took place.
Manager looks pointedly at Tamamori for a clear answer the decision somehow falling to him.
“I’m fine with the arrangement.”
-
(～・ω・)～ LTGMars