Some cuddly, funny fluff. Pure, utter crack. I warn you now, this is the result of insomnia, foul mood and bad day. Being this is complete crack- hell, after reading it, you'll probably think I'm on crack- it's most likely OOC, but I'm too tired and miserable to care at the moment.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Bleach and am making no money off of this.
SUMMARY: Matsumoto learns what happens when you snuggle Hitsugaya and ignore paperwork.
NOTE: According to several on-line dictionaries, "otearai" is the formal word for toilet in Japanese. So, yes, the title for this epic masterpiece (note; sarcasm) is toilet. And no, I don't think this fic can sink much lower. -.- Well, maybe if you pull the handle it might. God, now I'm making sick toilet jokes…not only do I write a fic named toilet, I joke about it.
Damn, if the notes haven't disturbed you yet, the fic will. My brain and humor are never a good combination. Scary things happen. Such as this. And I warn you now, this fic makes my Onsen series look normal. Hah! My stories, normal? O.o? That's like saying hollows do ballet! pictures Grand Fisher in a frilly pink tutu dancing Swan Lake with Aizen I told you my mind is a scary, scary place. -.-
OTEARAI
Matusmoto was caught between a rock and a hard place. Well, more like the plump couch cushions and her sleeping taichou. She brought this on herself. Damn her impulsiveness. You think after several centuries, she'd learn to look before she leaped.
But oh no. In battle yes, but in the office it was completely different. Fast acting, inspirational impulses were necessary in the battle of avoiding paperwork. And those mountainous stacks that threatened to crush her and her taicou's desks were scarier than an army from Hueco Muendo. Well, not really, but she'd much rather face a horde of hollows alone and naked than pick up a pen and fill out forms and reports. Hmm…fighting hollows naked...that sounded kinda kinky. And fun.
Hitsugaya shifted on top of her, still sound asleep. Her face contorted in extreme discomfort as pressure was applied to her full bladder. Not that he was heavy- far from it. The boy was lighter than Hinamori, who ate like a bird and had a brain to match. At least, in Matsumoto's opinion. Although, given her current situation, she didn't have any room to talk.
In her defense, Hitsugaya was just too damn cute for her own good. She couldn't resist cuddling him at every opportunity she got. Which wasn't very often- when he was awake. But asleep, he was all hers for the snuggling. His anti-cuddling attitude and her addiction to cuddling had led to her habit of picking him up and snuggling him whenever she found him sound asleep.
Hitsugaya was a renowned workaholic, who often stayed late into the night and was up early at the office the next day just to keep up with the incoming tidlewaves of paperwork. As dedicated as Hitsugaya was to getting it done, that's how dedicated Matsumoto was to avoiding it. As such, she often came slinking back to find him exhausted and passed out at his desk. Occasionally, he'd have kanji ink prints on his little cheek from falling asleep in the middle of filling out a file. Other times, he'd be curled up on the couch- just to rest his eyes for a moment, of course- before passing out.
This only happened when he was beyond exhausted, when only his stubborn will had kept him going until he literally collapsed, body giving out. She'd stare at him- at the stressed pallor of his skin, the tightness of his mouth, the bags under his eyes- and the image would pull on her heart strings. So she'd tackle the paperwork then take him into her arms and lay with him on the couch. She'd curl into her favorite position, which after all these centuries the cushions had formed indentations from, and he'd lay atop her, head on her nearly exposed, huge breasts. Once in a while, when he was either really stressed or really exhausted, his small hand would fist in the black cloth of her haori.
Of course, this pleasure she indulged in and was right up there with sake was bound to back fire someday. She should've known it was coming, was bound to happen sooner or later. See, when an exhausted person sleeps- even a captain- they're bound to sleep for a good several hours. However, people who are awake need to go to the bathroom every so often. Especially if they drank alot of caffeine and forgot to do so before cuddling a deeply sleeping, cute, adorably and cuddly taichou.
Hitsugaya shifted again, and Matsumoto twitched. She had to go to the bathroom. Bad. It took everything she had just to hold it. Problem was, she just couldn't get up and go. After so many centuries of her snuggling Hitsugaya when he slept, he'd unconsciously become accustomed to it. So if she put him down, he'd wake. And be even crankier and grumpy than he was before he'd passed out. She didn't really wanna be turned into an icicle.
She wanted to pee. She needed to pee! This was worse than craving sake! And the bathroom was just across the hall. She could hear the toilet calling to her, beckoning her bladder. But she was trapped on the couch, under her taichou. She was afraid to wake the slumbering little blizzard.
Hitsugaya looked so innocent, so angelic and delicate asleep. So adorable. Except for the horns poking out of his frosty little head. Okay, so he didn't exactly have horns, but it was very easy to imagine he did. Somehow, in his sleep, he'd shifted and was positioned right on her bladder. Her very full bladder. Normally, he weighed nothing to her, but when she had to pee and his limp, dead weight directly on her bladder made him feel like a ten ton hollow. Or like Jirobu.
Matsumoto hissed and squirmed as the knee dug into her abdomen. She bit back a whimper, clenching her legs closer together. She'd almost sprung a leak! Her hands curled and uncurled in Hitsugaya's uniform as she struggled to hold the yellow flood back. The damn was going to break soon. She had no choice.
Biting her lip, she gingerly, carefully, slowly shifted their bodies until they were lying side by side. Her muscles were trembling- she was really close to loosing it now. She clenched her teeth. Be strong, Matsumoto, she chanted in her head. Willpower. You can do it, girl. Hold it, hold it. Almost free. There ya go-
Oh, shit. She'd been easing herself away, tucking a blanket around her sleeping, exhausted taichou when the hand holding her haori latched onto a strawberry-blonde lock of her hair soon as she'd pried his fingers loose. He shifted, lashes fluttering, and her insides froze, fearing he was waking up. With a soft sigh, he settled back down. She slumped in relief, then twitched and clenched her muscles tight when she almost lost control again. Yeah, explaining that would NOT be fun.
At least she was almost free. Sort of. Matsumoto tried to gingerly pry his fingers loose from her hair, but soon as she freed his thumb and index finger, he rolled onto his other side, yanking her hair in the process. She raised a hand to her scalp, face contorted in pain- that hurt! Her head was jerked and stuck at an awkward angle. Her squirming intensified. She REALLY had to go, and that jolt almost jarred her loose!
She looked down at her hair in his fist. She tried pulling it free, but he only tightened his hold. She was stuck; there was only one way out. She hated to do it- it was almost painful. It would leave her whimpering and whining for days. But she had no choice. Her full bladder claimed first priority. Relief- wonderful, sweet, empty-feeling relief came at a heavy price. Not only was she trapped here, squirming and doing the potty dance, but now she had to cut her beautiful, long hair to boot!
Haineko lay in its usual spot at the foot of the couch. Stretching carefully with one long arm, she was just able to reach it. She stared down at her hair, taking aim. It was a dagger in her heart- there went her gorgeous, flowing hair! Oh, what a cruel, cruel world! She pouted, sniffed in mourning, raised Haineko, then paused. She couldn't do it- she'd ruin her haircut.
Her strained muscles spasmed, and her blue eyes bulged. Oh, she HAD to do it. She HAD to get to the bathroom! ASAP! Closing her eyes, biting her lower lip, she cut through her hair. Her muscles twitched again- she was loosing control. She had no time to mourn her loss; Matsumoto sprang up and shunpo-ed her way to the toilet.
Hitsugaya turned his head and cracked open one teal eye, smirking as he watched her race off. He twirled the short lock of his fukutaichou's hair. Just how cute, cuddly, and adorable was he now? As a young genius, he'd come up with many great ideas, but this one took the cake. And to think, he'd come up with it when he and Hinamori were children and she'd cuddle and snuggle with him like Matsumoto insisted on doing now. Except Hinamori wasn't as crafty or clever as Matsumoto- it was how she'd ended up with the nickname Bed-Wetter Momo.
Hitsugaya stretched then settled himself into the indentations in the cushions left by Matsumoto as he closed his eyes. For once, the taichou took a nap instead of the fukutaichou, little smirk still in place. Maybe now Matsumoto would feel more inclined to do paperwork than to snuggle with him.
OWARI