It's a beautiful Saturday morning. The sun is a warm orange sphere, slowly rising in the sky. The birds are chirping. The cool morning breeze drifts through the window like a welcoming breath.
Kunimitsu lies in bed, awake but not getting up. It is rare for him to let himself be idle like this, not doing anything but basking in the tranquility of the moment.
His lover next to him radiates warm, half-sprawled over his body like a large, lazy feline. Sun-kissed, smooth skin over taut, lean muscle. Long limbs and thin bony fingers. Sharp angle of elbows and knees.
Kunimitsu often gets irritated at his lover, true, but he just as often find his eyes sliding over the distinct lines and curves of his lover, marveling their strength and beauty. He frowns at messy platinum hair and the careless way his lover throws them into a halfhearted rat-tail, but the next moment he can't help but run his fingers through them, messing them up even more, pulling until the loose magenta band unravels and falls to the floor.
Next to him, his lover turns, hair tickling Kunimitsu's bare nape the way it always does in the morning, silver strands wild and everywhere (tracing lines on Kunimitsu's bicep, tickling his face and making him sneeze).
But not everywhere.
There is only a soft rustle near his ear, a sensation barely felt. Nothing prickling Kunimitsu's bare chest, nothing sweeping the sensitive angles of his shoulder blades and collar bones.
Kunimitsu turns his head by an inch.
Brown.
His heart constricts with fear, mind furiously searching memories of last night. He doesn't find everything out of place, which is good because there shouldn't be anything out of place, which is bad because it doesn't explain the situation.
Dread soaking through his body like wet socks, Kunimitsu turns to look at his love (presumably) next to him.
Pale, almost white skin. Nondescript brown hair of medium length. Silver wires framing familiar brown eyes.
A familiar (yet very out-of-place) smirk curls the edge of very familiar (yet so wrong) lips.
"Morning, darling~"
Kunimitsu reacts like all sane people reacts in such a situation.
He falls out of their bed.
He lays there on the cold wooden floor, at an angle where he can see neither the bright orange sun or the clear blue sky outside. Kunimitsu refuses to move until his brain restarts his heart.
It is five minutes later when he finally gathers his wit to sit up.
He finds his lover (but not) on his side on their bed, chortling with familiar (but not) mirth.
Kunimitsu takes a deep, calming breath and tells himself that he's used to this, and it's okay, and it's not a big deal.
Except that he'll never get used to this, and it's not okay, and it really is a big deal (or perhaps it isn't but it's rather disturbing and he'd rather not repeat the experience for the rest of his natural life).
Watching the subtle changes on Kunimitsu's face, the man on the bed switches from amused chuckles to outright laughter.
Kunimitsu feels his eyebrows twitch. He wants to assign laps badly.
The man's brown wig has fallen off through his laughing fit, revealing messy silver hair sticking everywhere. He peers up at Kunimitsu, presumably sees something in his expression, and breaks down laughing again.
It isn't funny.
Kunimitsu takes a step forward, intending to put a stop to this nonsense. He doesn't expect a long arm to shoot out and grab him, dragging him on the bed in record speed.
Kunimitsu finds himself on his back again, except with a very familiar weight on him, with all the right and wrong features (the same upward curve of almond-shaped eyes, but brown, the same sharp angle of cheekbones, but sickly pale), crawling up his body like a cat, mischievous grin stretching strange, mismatched face.
Niou's eyes thin in a seductive, self-satisfied smile.
"I guess you've let your guard down~"