Otori Kyoya, never a morning person, woke up on Sunday at seven without any prompting or alarms whatsoever.
He came to the conclusion, as he opened his eyes, that something was wrong, that something being the fact that Suou Tamaki, eyes closed and to all appearances, very asleep and very, very comfortable, was using him as a bolster.
Wait.
Rewind.
Tamaki was using him as a bolster.
Tamaki was using him as a bolster.
And was that drool?
"Tamaki," he said, staring at the ceiling. For some reason, it was a bit hard to move.
In reply, the blond buried his head in Kyoya's chest, muttering something that sounded vaguely like 'haarummmf'.
"Tamaki. Get off me."
"Eeh?" Raising his head, Tamaki blinked blearily, trying to focus. "Oh. Good morning, Kyoya," he murmured, before collapsing back down. "'m sleepy."
"Get off me."
"'s comfortable," Tamaki protested into Kyoya's shirt. "You smell nice."
Certainly comfortable for Tamaki, but in Kyoya's case- and that was drool, definitely- having his classmate basically drape himself on him in the morning was not the most pleasant of experiences. Besides, Tamaki was heavy.
Eyes narrowing, he shoved.
Two seconds later, there was a disheveled blond sitting on the floor, looking up with an extremely unhappy face at Kyoya. "It's only seven," he protested, tears starting to well up in his eyes. "You don't have to be so mean!"
"Why were you in my bed?"
"It looked comfortable!"
"What," Kyoya said.
Tamaki scowled, pulling the blanket that had come with him closer. "I came over to ask you if you wanted to go out with me to visit Haruhi without the twins disturbing us because if I called you then you'd call them as well like you did last time and I didn't want that but you were sleeping and the bed looked comfortable and I didn't want to disturb you because you're scary when you wake up and-" he took a deep breath. "That's it?"
Suppressing the urge to kick Tamaki, Kyoya pulled his end of the blanket back. "You were drooling on me."
Grabbing at the blanket, the blond held on. "I'm sorry?" He offered.
The blanket, if it could have protested, would have done so.
Half-sighing, Kyoya let go and watched as Tamaki fell over. "Get out of my room," he ordered, as the blond picked himself up. "Now."
There was a moment of silence as Tamaki considered the proposal. "So you'll come with me?" He smiled hopefully, still clutching the blanket.
Kyoya thought through the possibilities. He could say no, Tamaki would protest (or sulk) and then he'd have a problem on his hands. But if he said yes, he'd have to go out, and at this hour, he would rather sleep (but then Tamaki had his blanket, so he couldn't). Which left...
"On one condition."
"Hah?"
Pulling off his shirt, Kyoya held it out for Tamaki to take. "Wash this first," he said. "I'll go out once it's dry."
Eyes lighting up, Tamaki dropped the blanket in favor for the shirt he'd drooled on a few minutes ago. "Right!" He grinned, turning and running out of the room.
Leaning back over the bed, Kyoya fished around and grabbed hold of his blanket. For the shirt to get washed would take half an hour, for it to dry, longer still, which meant at least a good two or three hours more to sleep...
Eyes closing, Kyoya was just about to fall asleep when his door slammed open and the last person he wanted to hear from at that time, came in, looked around furtively before walking over to the bed, an apology written all over his face, and-
"Ah, um, Kyoya? How do I wash a shirt?"
