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writetomyheart2014-08-01 10:28 pm
xingphonic.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2014-08-01 10:28 pm
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[Team Three] Stay
Inoo is right up there as one of the biggest Do-Ms to ever Do-M. ;_;
Had he been younger, Inoo would have hollered down the hallway at them to stop leaving their shit in other people’s rooms, and then proceed to hide it before they came back to get it, but when Inoo spots Daiki’s mp3 player lying on his bed, he lets it go. And then hides it, because it’s Daiki, after all.
He hasn’t done this in a while, but since the next concert isn’t until tomorrow afternoon and there’s nothing going on right now, Inoo thinks he can get away with indulging his mischievous side for a while. When he was younger, he really just liked watching the other members in various states of panic as they tear around the room, only to have them sigh with relief and an exasperated “Inoo-chan,” when he later produces it with a big smile.
He skips over to the couch, where Hikaru gives him a weird look. “Didn’t you just turn twenty four?” he deadpans when Inoo tells him what he’s done.
“Did I?” Inoo pretends to look clueless, then flashes him a grin.
Daiki doesn’t come back in the next hour to get it, which most definitely means that he’s taking a nap. Inoo spends the next half hour trying and failing to concentrate on his book, then sighing, gets up to retrieve the hidden item and head to Daiki’s room.
Sure enough, Daiki’s sleeping. There’s no-one else in the room, Chinen having probably gone to play games with Keito, so Inoo reluctantly hovers near the middle of the room. If Daiki’s sleeping, there’s no real point in staying. He’s just turned to leave when a groggy voice calls out. “Inoo-chan?”
He turns back. Daiki’s blinking up at him from the couch.
“You could have taken a nap in my room.” Inoo exaggerates his pout somewhat, then pulls out the mp3 player from his pocket. “Here. You left this.”
Daiki yawns. “Thanks,” he mumbles sleepily, gesturing to the table. “Just put it there, please.”
When he places it on the table, Daiki tugs on his arm with surprising force for someone who’s barely awake. “Stay?” Daiki asks, shifting over to leave some space.
Snuggling up as close as he can, limbs tangling together on the couch, he stays.
Your turn,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rikikomori!
Had he been younger, Inoo would have hollered down the hallway at them to stop leaving their shit in other people’s rooms, and then proceed to hide it before they came back to get it, but when Inoo spots Daiki’s mp3 player lying on his bed, he lets it go. And then hides it, because it’s Daiki, after all.
He hasn’t done this in a while, but since the next concert isn’t until tomorrow afternoon and there’s nothing going on right now, Inoo thinks he can get away with indulging his mischievous side for a while. When he was younger, he really just liked watching the other members in various states of panic as they tear around the room, only to have them sigh with relief and an exasperated “Inoo-chan,” when he later produces it with a big smile.
He skips over to the couch, where Hikaru gives him a weird look. “Didn’t you just turn twenty four?” he deadpans when Inoo tells him what he’s done.
“Did I?” Inoo pretends to look clueless, then flashes him a grin.
Daiki doesn’t come back in the next hour to get it, which most definitely means that he’s taking a nap. Inoo spends the next half hour trying and failing to concentrate on his book, then sighing, gets up to retrieve the hidden item and head to Daiki’s room.
Sure enough, Daiki’s sleeping. There’s no-one else in the room, Chinen having probably gone to play games with Keito, so Inoo reluctantly hovers near the middle of the room. If Daiki’s sleeping, there’s no real point in staying. He’s just turned to leave when a groggy voice calls out. “Inoo-chan?”
He turns back. Daiki’s blinking up at him from the couch.
“You could have taken a nap in my room.” Inoo exaggerates his pout somewhat, then pulls out the mp3 player from his pocket. “Here. You left this.”
Daiki yawns. “Thanks,” he mumbles sleepily, gesturing to the table. “Just put it there, please.”
When he places it on the table, Daiki tugs on his arm with surprising force for someone who’s barely awake. “Stay?” Daiki asks, shifting over to leave some space.
Snuggling up as close as he can, limbs tangling together on the couch, he stays.
Your turn,
rikikomori!