Title: Drunk!Saruhiko Does Not Do Passionate Booty Shake Nor Sing Maji Love 1000%. Or 2000%.

Fandom: [K], Project K

Characters/Pairings: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki

Disclaimer: [K] does not belong to me, nor do I make any profit out of this work.

Warnings: unbeta-ed, grammar errors ahoy, possible OOC-ness.

A/N: Anon-chan on tumblr randomly asked: "I wonder, what would Saruhiko be like if he were drunk?"

I answered: "he'll sing Maji Love 1000% and all the UtaPri songs, anon-chan. and does a passionate booty shake."

And then I accidentally ficced.

A [K] Project Fanfiction

Drunk!Saruhiko Does Not Do Passionate Booty Shake Nor Sing Maji Love 1000%. Or 2000%.

The couch is brand new. Misaki considers it for three seconds and wonders if Kusanagi-san will kill him if Saru throws up on the couch, because the toilet is twelve fucking steps away from the couch and that is a very long journey for the drunk monkey.

He dumps Saruhiko on the couch anyway, and grunts in annoyance when Saruhiko's fingers refuse to let go of his shirt.

"Let go, dumbass," he scowls, but there's no heat in his voice, because Saruhiko actually looks adorable, like this: eyes half-lidded with hazy awareness, lips parted as his breath slipping out from them, the soft shade of red that colors his cheeks down to his neck. He pushes at Saruhiko's head, when the taller boy buries his face on Misaki's stomach. "I said let go, are you fucking listening, Saru?"

"No," the reply comes in a mumble as fingers tighten, bunching Misaki's shirt until it reveals the skin hidden underneath. "No."

Misaki sighs. "I'm just gonna get you some water, idiot." He runs his fingers through Saruhiko's hair, pulls at them until Saruhiko's head tilts up before flicking him on the forehead. Saruhiko blinks up owlishly, obviously only half-aware of what Misaki is saying, and Misaki is irritated at himself because he finds it cute. He pushes Saruhiko's bangs away and trails a finger on the younger boy's cheek.

"Fuck, Kusanagi-san is going to kill you if he found out that you're drunk. We're fucking underage, you know."

Saruhiko clicks his tongue (and what the fuck, Misaki thinks), leans forward and winds his arms around Misaki. "No," he mumbles, chin digging into Misaki's hipbone as he keeps his eyes on Misaki, and suddenly Misaki has to swallow.

"Let go."

"No." It's a simple word, and yet it sends a shiver through the older boy. "Come, Mi-sa-kiii—"

The drawl echoes in the room as Misaki feels himself pulled forward; he stumbles onto the couch with flailing arms and a yelp, then grunts in pain when his head crashed onto the couch's armrest hard. "Ugh, dumbass, stop clinging like that, fuck—" then he's flipped onto his back, and Saruhiko's weight settles on top of him.

"Not going," a kiss, on his collarbone. "Anywhere. You can't." Another one, on Misaki's jaw. "Mi-sa-kiii…" the drawl ends with a soft chuckle ghosting on Misaki's ear, and the arms around his waist tighten with the last word: "mine."

Misaki sighs and rolls his eyes, both exasperated and so taken in, he can't really say anything.

"If you puke on me I'm going to kill you."

"You won't," there's sleep on the edge of Saruhiko's voice now, one that makes Misaki's fingers itch to run themselves through the blue locks. He does so, listening to the contented sigh that escapes Saruhiko's lips, and isn't it fascinating, how open Saruhiko seems when alcohol clouds his mind.

"I fucking will, dumbass. I'll stab you with my skateboard, see if I won't."

There's that noise again, the one Saruhiko makes when he clicks his tongue. "You won't." The words sound more insistent now, even as the hazy and sleepy tone thickens. "You love me."

Misaki's fingers pause, breath catching on his throat.

Saruhiko's breath evens out, small puffs against Misaki's neck, his whole weight pinning Misaki down. Even asleep, his arms around Misaki's weight doesn't slacken, and Misaki really doesn't know what to do with that. With everything. With this unexpected clinginess and possessiveness and the flood of warmth that makes his every nerve tingle.

He sighs, runs his fingers carefully through a knot in Saruhiko's hair.

"Yeah, I fucking love you. Dumbass."

—-o0ofinitoo0o—-

tl;dr, a drunk Saru is a clingy and adorable Saru whose blush goes all the way down. DD