Notes: My favorite chapter so far. Enjoy! FoR does not belong to me!
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Going to Sleep
Fuuko closed her eyes in anticipation as Mikagami bent close to her, expression intense, and tried not to shake. She gulped. This was the moment. This was the moment that they would finally be
"done." Mikagami said hollowly. He pulled his quivering hand away and looked at the last piece of the model as it set into the bubble of glue. Fuuko stared down at their project cradled lovingly in her hands. Twenty-three hours of her life. Cradled in her hands.
"I think I've forgotten how it feels be alive, Mi-chan." She stared emptily at him.
Mikagami had rolled onto his bed and was staring at the ceiling. "I'm tired."
"I smell disgusting." Fuuko sniffed at herself. "This has probably been the most trying experience of my life."
"It's your fault."
Fuuko frowned angrily. "Why is it my fault?"
"If you hadn't waited till a day before the deadline to get started on the project we wouldn't have had to pull this panicked all-nighter, now, would we?"
This was true.
"Well! If you hadn't been so busy doing OTHER things, I wouldn't have had to put it off to the last day to do it now would I?"
This was also true.
"I'm tired."
Fuuko pouted. "So am I. I want to lie down."
"Lie on the floor."
"The floor is cold!" Fuuko placed the model at her feet and slouched down on the floor.
"Too bad. Go back to your room them."
"Don't wanna."
"Then stop whining."
"I'm not whining!"
"You are whining."
"Am not."
Silence. Then –
"I refuse to be dragged down to you maturity level."
Silence. Then –
"Fine. Then you'll just have to deal with it."
Silence again. Then –
"Deal with what?" But before Mikagami could get the entire question out, Fuuko had already crawled into his bed and was snuggling down between Mikagami's no-nonsense heather grey bedspread and duvet.
"What. The. Hell? Kirasawa – get out of my bed. Now."
But Fuuko was not going to relinquish the soft mattress for the cold floor. No way. Not in a million years. Even if it was a little crowded in Mi-chan's single bed. "Nuh-uh. The floor is cold and my room is too far away. And I'm tired. And you told me to deal with it so I'm dealing with it." Fuuko curled into a ball with her back to Mi-chan's side and mumbled into his pillow.
His pillow had a nice smell – spicy and male and very…Mi-chan. But that wasn't why she liked the smell – nah. She just, you know, liked it. 'Sure…,' a doubting voice from the back of her mind called out. Whatever. She silenced the taunting voice. Fuuko was tired – she could like whatever the hell she liked and there would be no implications about her feelings towards her old teammate– or lack thereof.
Yup. No feelings at all.
Fuuko yawned. Then mumbled sleepily, "Your pillow smells sexy."
'Oh shit.'
She stiffened in mortification. She was horrifically embarrassed.
'What the hell did I just say?'
Of all the idiotic, thoughtless, things to blurt out! She had to blurt that out She would never, ever, ever, be able to face Mi-chan again.
She braced herself. She didn't know what to expect – getting kicked out of his bed? Possibly. Getting the cold shoulder? Very likely. Getting a freakin' tongue lashing –
–ooh, tongue-lashing with Mi-chan's talented tongue—
Her eyes widened in absolute horror. She was going crazy. She knew it. She was officially insane. She had gone round the bend. And she was a pervert. Her life was over.
She waited for the blade to fall and for her head to roll. She held her breath – and waited.
--
Mikagami scowled sleepily. It was too crowded in his single bed.
(not that I'm complaining – my entire side is tingling from the warmth of her back—whatever that means)
The silver-haired man lazily debated between physically kicking her out of his bed or verbally abusing her till she just upped and left. But both options took too much energy, and he was tired. Too tired.
'Freakin' chemistry.'
Fuuko shifted around as she burrowed into his blanket and Mikagami tried to pretend that he did not like the feeling of her body moving against his. He pressed his lips together and turned his head to face the wall. It was just too damn crowded.
He could feel her every movement.
Which left little to the imagination. What little that was left was running absolutely havoc. And was definitely not PG-13.
Mikagami swallowed hard.
He was…tired, tired of fighting his own brain. He closed his eyes. Appearing from the darkness was Fuuko in his bed – but not sleeping, oh no, anything but that in fact; her half-closed eyes and parted pink lips; her perfectly bare shoulders; her hand clenching his tangled bedspread; she arches her back, the blanket slips further down, revealing soft, soft skin, her eyelids close, she says –
"Your pillow smells sexy."
Mikagami's brain stopped functioning. All the blood in his head rushed elsewhere.
What the hell did she just say?
What the hell?
What?
His eyes popped open and he tried to sneak a peek at the pink-haired woman sleeping next him without having to move a single muscle. All he could see, however, was her unbelievably pink hair splayed out on his pillow.
(this image was stored in his brain – for later ruminations)
Her breathing was deep and steady – all signs indicated that she was asleep. Which either meant that he had imagined it all or that she was sleeping-talking. In either case, he could just ignore it. Which was definitely easy, right? Because it didn't mean anything – it couldn't have. Nope. Meaningless. And definitely not causing him to be aroused. It was just a silly offhand remark which meant absolutely nothing to him. Just… put it out of your head, he told himself. As easy as that. Just dismiss it from your memory. Forever.
your pillow smells sexy
mi-chan
your pillow smells sexy, mi-chan
your pillow smells sexy
your pillow smells sexy, she arches her back and her eyes are slits and she moves slowly in his bed and
Mikagami bit hard on his inner cheek and tasted the faintly metallic taste of blood. Enough is enough, he thought to himself. He closed his eyes and with much effort thought of nothing at all. Nothing. Nothing at all.
Right.
--
The fresh light of the morning sun woke her up from a sweet, but forgotten dream. Fuuko smiled sleepily into the pillow and inhaled deeply – there was nothing like waking up refreshed after a good night's sleep; the spicy smell of her pillow tickled her nose and a feeling of contentment sank into her chest. She was so very comfortable in bed – in fact, she thought to herself, she could probably stay in bed all day – if only whatever was tickling the back of her neck would stop it – then she could maybe go back to sleep.
Wait.
Hold on one second, Kirisawa.
'Where the hell am I?'
And then the feeling of satisfaction evaporated from her pores.
She was still lying on her side, but now she was suddenly aware of something heavy draped across her waist. Carefully cracking her eyelids open (and being very particular about keeping her breathing rhythm as per normal) she slid her gaze down to where she felt the weight was.
It was an arm. A forearm. A very nice-looking, sculpted forearm. This very nice forearm was attached to Mi-chan.
Mi-chan's arm was draped across the waist.
Fuuko flushed a deep shade of red, remembering what she had blurted out the night before.
'Your pillow smells sexy.'
After she had said that, she had waited. And waited. And waited for him to respond, but he hadn't and then she had fallen asleep.
And now. She was in his bed. With his arm around her waist.
Which didn't mean anything, of course. People moved around a lot in their sleep, you know, flinging their arms about. Fuuko did not have a doubt that Mi-chan had not put his arm there on purpose. She just… was… you know… well.
It was just an interesting sensation, that's all. It wasn't bad, no, just… well actually it was kinda nice.
But it was also kinda… odd. So with a sigh, she picked up his hand carefully and placed it behind her. So that it was not touching her.
She lay there for a while and let out a breath in relief – though, she was feeling a strange sense of loss now that his arm was gone; in fact, her waist was quite cold and sad to say, she missed the strength of his arm on her body.
She twisted her lips in disgust. She was such a pathetic specimen of a female! Craving a man's touch just for the sake of it! Pathetic!
Closing her eyes determinedly, she carefully tried to slide out of the bed without waking Mi-chan. She was almost out of the bed when, unfortunately for Fuuko, this plan was foiled by the appearance of a strong arm that snaked around her waist and pulled her back into the warm bed.
From somewhere behind her, Fuuko heard Mi-chan mumble sleepily.
'Don't go."
Fuuko froze.
What?
What what?
What what what just happened?
She slowly turned her head over her shoulder. And realized what was tickling the back of her neck.
Mi-chan was lying on his side, asleep. His forehead was so close to her (now-turned) face that if she were to move another inch, he would be waking up to her kiss. It was his messy hair that was caressing the back of her neck, and Fuuko allowed herself a small smile. 'I guess even Mi-chan has bed hair,' she thought. Her gaze followed the regal line of his forehead to his eyelashes that were nestled softly on his cheek. His nose was straight and strong. When he was asleep, Mi-chan was as heartbreakingly handsome as he was awake, but there was something different about him that Fuuko couldn't quite put her finger on.
It took her a long time to pinpoint exactly what was arresting her attention, but it finally struck her that his face was not wearing the customary blankness that she was so used to seeing. Quite the opposite, in fact.
His forehead was creased as if he was thinking and his lips moved, but there was no sound. Then his forehead smoothened out and his lips curled at the edges into what was definitely a small smile. (Fuuko memorized this rare occasion for later). He nodded his head and parted his lips, and then closed them. His eyebrows hoisted themselves up and he wrinkled his nose.
Fuuko watched, fascinated. His face was so… expressive. Who would have thought! But judging from his sleeping habits, Mi-chan was definitely a sleep-talker (probably a sleep-walker too). At any rate, Mi-chan definitely moved a lot when he was sleeping. Which explained his arm around her waist. And the fact that he was holding her close to him.
"Don't go…"
Mikagami mumbled again and tightened his grip around Fuuko's waist, drawing her body closer to his. Fuuko let out a small gasp; she was stuck. She wiggled around, trying to break free from his grasp, but all it did was make the sleeping Mi-chan hold her even tighter.
"Don't go." He mumbled soft and drew his eyebrows together.
Fuuko wondered who he was dreaming about. Probably some stupid girl model he had met during his modeling days. She felt a faint stab of jealousy. He was probably dreaming about holding her close to him. Her eyes widened. Maybe this girl was his girlfriend? Urgh! Idiot Mi-chan! Using her as a substitute (even unconsciously) was not cool. She considered kicking him awake. But then thought better of it. If she kicked him and he woke up, then they would both be awake at the same time, and that would just be awkward beyond belief.
Yes, best to just go back to bed and let Mi-chan deal with it when he woke up before her.
She closed her eyes and pretended that the tight hold Mi-chan had on her waist was not comforting. Not comforting at all.
Soon, sleep consumed her.
--
Mikagami dreamt of soft peaches; he grasped one in his palm, but there were too many and he began to drown in them. They rolled around and moved against his chest. He didn't mind though – they smelt so good and were so very soft.
He was awoken from this dream by a sort of purring sound. Was there a cat in his room? he thought sleepily.
Lazily opening his eyes, all he saw for a moment was the colour of pink silk reflecting the mid-morning sunlight.
Pretty.
His eyes drifted close.
I guess I must have accidentally used the pink bedsheets… Mikagami made a mental note to use them more often, regardless of what it might say about his masculinity.
Mikagami let himself drift back to sleep, until a startling thought crossed his mind.
'I don't have pink bedsheets.'
His eyelids burst apart. If there had been anyone watching, they might have described Mikagami's expression as somewhat… "bug-eyed"; luckily for him, there was no one around.
Well. Except for one other person.
Fuuko.
The events of the night before rushed back to him, and Mikagami felt his mouth dry. She had said something… No, no. She had said nothing.
But what was going on right, now? He needed to know.
Her pink hair was obstructing his vision so he resorted to his other senses to get his bearings.
He sniffed the air.
Fuuko smelled like… freshly picked fruit. It was a nice smell. 'It must be her shampoo,' he thought to himself.
The sound of her calm breathing filled his ears. Occasionally she made a purring sound from the back of her throat. Mikagami's lips twitched in amusement – how fitting that she would sound like a cat in her sleep, he thought to himself.
But wait… something felt odd.
His hand… where was it?
He wriggled his fingers for a moment, trying to locate them. And then was horror-struck.
His hand was firmly placed on her warm and flat tummy. Mikagami's mouth dropped open.
What. Was. His. Hand. Doing. There !!!
More importantly, however, what would she do to him if she ever found out that his hand was anywhere on her body? He felt a tingle of fear run up his spine.
And then she moved, as if merely thinking about her called her back from the land of slumber.
'Oh god. This is the end of me.'
Mikagami clenched his eyes shut, hoping that she would mistake him for being asleep.
The seconds ticked by… but the deathblow he was waiting for never happened. Mikagami decided to take a risk and open his eyes.
Her breathing was still deep and regular.
Fuuko was still asleep, apparently; Mikagami relaxed a little.
She moved again. This time Mikagami recognized what Fuuko was doing – or rather, what Fuuko's body was doing (because Fuuko would never be doing it consciously).
She was snuggling against his chest.
It was a rare occasion for Mikagami to be openly embarrassed; it was an even rarer occasion for Mikagami Tokiya to blush.
But he was blushing.
He knew it.
He could feel heat racing up his neck. His face felt too warm. If he had any space left over in his brain to comprehend this he would have been thinking that being embarrassed was an entirely uncomfortable state of being. Unfortunately for Mikagami, his brain was completely devoted to processing each and every pleasurable sensation that Fuuko's moving body was eliciting from his skin.
Mikagami clenched his teeth and he felt a thin film of perspiration bead along his hairline.
If she kept moving like that… things might get a little awkward…
Mikagami closed his eyes tightly and thought about Recca and Domon again. Those blustering fools. He thanked the gods for them. Truly, this was the first time in years he actually felt a bonedeep sense of gratitude for his clumsy friends.
And then – Fuuko purred.
Mikagami bit his lip to stop from groaning. (a desperate sound, he was certain it would be, and most unbecoming)
Enough. This was more torture than any steel-willed man could handle. Mikagami had to get the hell away from his bed and the woman that was currently in it. The woman who was at this very moment pressing against his chest and filling his thoughts with how her eyes would open slowly, how she would part her lips slightly in surprise, how he would pin her down and kiss her –
'Oh. My. God.'
Mikagami jerked his hand away from her body and hastily, but silently, rolled out of his bed. His heart was racing. He had to go.
Anywhere.
As long as it was far away.
As he fled the room, Mikagami tried not to think about how he had just imagined kissing Fuuko. And how much he regretted not doing it.
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Author's Notes: Ahhhh this is my favorite chapter so far! I love how they feel about each other! It's crazy! Wake up, guys! You like each other!
Anyway: Mealoaf, here it is! Thanks for looking forward to this fic! That makes me really happy!;Funkysushi, ahhh thanks so much! They are so dirty minded! But it makes for a good story hee hee; Snowcharms, Mi-chan has taken so many cold showers lately, it can't possibly be healthy for him! Thanks for reading!; Nils, poor Mi-chan can't control his perverted thoughts, but Fuuko is definitely not so innocent either eh?; cabbage-pebbles, I certainly will continue this! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far!;DR4GIV, I most definitely will! Don't worry!; Giselle d'Angouleme, Mi-chan will be thoroughly picked on, have no worries! Also, do I mind? Hell no! yay!; Aki Reinhart, thanks for reading, dear!; Abubi-chan, haha chemistry indeed ne? I do love sexual tension, and I hope this chapter had enough of it for you!; Eirist, yup they totally are perverts! Both of them! Thanks for reading!; Blackrose2005, awww, thanks so much! I'm glad you enjoy it!; 9081, thank you, I'll try my best!; mikaro, they are so corrupt! hee hee, yeah recca and domon in a bikini is kinda scary!
Thanks everyone!
