Thought this up when I went to bed last night, laying there and making my best effort to drift off to sleep. Gotta love the inspiration that Germany and Staring at the Ceiling give. Parts of the harem tales were written in this manner. Man, that was a great year ... why doesn't that sort of thing come to be anymore?
"Your bed is the most comfortable," Sengoku offered in answer to his invasion of Ohtori's bed the first night, slipping beneath the covers to lay on the edge of the bed, leaving Ohtori all the space he could possibly desire.
Somewhat nonplussed by the older boy's behavior, Ohtori found himself asking, "How would you know?"
"I just do."
Ohtori spent an hour staring helplessly at his invader, unsure how to proceed, as Sengoku sank into silent slumber across from him.
Snow fell quietly outside the tower the night Sengoku slipped into his bed again, tucking himself under the covers.
"Can't sleep?" Ohtori asked as Sengoku curled up next to him instead of remaining at the edge, the chill dropping away from pale skin as their combined heat warmed the recess of their little nest.
"Your bed is the warmest," Sengoku replied, tucking his nose into Ohtori's neck, breathing softly against the revealed skin. Ohtori shivered, finding himself wrapping an arm around the smaller boy as he stared at the bunk above him, telling himself that it was perfectly rational ... Sengoku's bed was next to the window.
The next time Sengoku snaked his way into Ohtori's bed at lights out, wrapping his arms around him and cuddling close, Ohtori was ready, "You don't climb in with anyone else ... why do you keep coming here?"
Orange hair rubbed itself against his cheek as Sengoku shifted, murmuring against his collar bone, "Your bed has you."
"Oh," Ohtori blinked, unable to summon more words as he looped his arms around Sengoku is return and hugged him close, "I didn't realize ... "
"Now you do," came the soft, sleepy response, breaking his train of thought.
Ohtori closed his mouth and tightened his grip, "Come back tomorrow then," he finally whispered, almost tentative.
Lips smiled happily against his neck, making him shiver, though not with cold, "If you want me to."
"I want you to."
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