Kis-My-Ft2, Miyata vs Pillow-san

Title: Miyata vs Pillow-san [Tamamori/Miyata]
Rating/Warnings: R
Summary: All Tamamori wants is to sleep, why is that so hard?
AN: Written for Shiritori.

Miyata vs Pillow-san

“Love is you, all right,” Tamamori grumbles as he sends back a snappy reply to Miyata’s obnoxiously sappy mail. Then he turns to punch Miyata in the shoulder. “And quit mailing me when I’m sitting right here!”

Miyata just laughs, especially when Fujigaya says with exasperation that Tamamori just did exactly the same thing so he can hardly complain.

“Ah, but if I just tell you,” Miyata says, looking way too proud of himself, “then you can’t reread it later to yourself when you miss me.”

“Who even misses you, seriously?” Tamamori demands, Fujigaya gagging showily and telling them to just get the fuck out already, or at least go find a prop closet like Nikaido and Senga.

Even when they finally do leave, they don’t walk with a whole lot of purpose, since they’re going their separate ways at the station, actually spending the night in their own homes for once. Tamamori’s mother has mailed him twice already to ask if he’s changed his mind yet with a lot of winking emoticons, and people wonder where Tamamori gets his jerk side from.

They can’t even hug goodbye properly at the station, which Tamamori hates, but there’s enough shit on the internet about them already. All he can do is look Miyata in the eye for a long moment, dark brown still surrounded by smudged eyeliner, and then shuffle off towards the first of his trains home.

The trip takes forever and all Tamamori wants is to sleep, but he knows better than to try it on his own and besides there’s nobody warm and comfortable to lean his head against. He ends up occupying himself with his saved mails on his phone, just since they were talking about them, and he nearly misses his exchange anyway.

“Wait, who are you again?” Tamamori’s mother teases when Tamamori slouches into the kitchen, making a big show of squinting at his face. “Are you sure you’re one of mine?”

“Knock it off,” Tamamori grumbles, but he gets a lot more cooperative when she reheats some curry for him and then digs up a bag of individually wrapped kiwi kit-kats that she’s had stashed in the back of a cabinet since they were in season last.

“Don’t tell your brother,” she warns, pulling one more little package out of the bag before returning it to its hiding spot. She snaps the pair of sticks in half and hands one of them to Tamamori. “Or your father, I’m supposed to be dieting.”

“You don’t need to diet, mom,” Tamamori rolls his eyes, and she looks him over and says he sure doesn’t either, not that it stops that moron Johnny-san.

“Anyway, I gave you the bigger piece, so my calories don’t count,” she announces, popping the last bite in her mouth and dusting off her hands. “I stuck them all to your piece.”

It’s been ages since he hung around with his mother a little, just the two of them. He lingers in the kitchen while she washes up and lets her pester him with questions about what the rest of his group is up to lately.

“You should have them over for nabe now that it’s getting cold,” she suggests, a shameless ploy to surround herself with cute young men to spoil. “Ever since Kitayama-kun got his own apartment, you hardly bring the other boys over.”

“We don’t need playdates, geez,” Tamamori scoffs. But really nabe sounds like a pretty good idea, and nobody ever wins against his mother’s pout anyway.

[Where do you think yours came from?] Miyata’s mail asks when Tamamori mails him the story after he’s dragged himself up to his bed. Even though he’d planned to get a good night’s sleep for once, it’s not that appealing when his bed doesn’t have somebody in it warming everything up. [But a nabe party sounds fun. Let’s ask everyone tomorrow, okay?]

Tamamori turns the lights off and tries to get comfortable, but the room is too quiet and one of his pillows is a poor stand-in for Miyata’s warm skin and steady breathing, plus it never strokes his hair.

“You suck, pillow-san,” Tamamori informs it, then gives up to his old teenage standby of just getting himself off in the hopes he’ll relax into sleep right after. He wraps a hand around himself and thinks about Miyata’s hands and mouth, and how his eyes are on Tamamori even more than the other two. He thinks about how it took them two weeks to find a safe place to fool around in the Dream Boys theater and two minutes once they’d found it.

He thinks about how Miyata murmurs a constant stream of praise in Tamamori’s ear, lips brushing his piercings, and how sometimes that seems like the most intimate part, and how when it’s cold they don’t do it face to face as often, so that Miyata presses against Tamamori’s back, keeping Tamamori warm all over and nibbling at his neck and shoulders.

It seems to take ages (Tamamori guesses he’s gotten spoiled), but eventually he shudders himself out with a sigh. He fumbles for a tissue and curls up in his now-warm sheets, eyes finally heavy.

Pillow-san is still not nearly good enough, though.

The next day he keeps yawning until Miyata finally asks with a sly smile if Tamamori can’t sleep properly without him anymore.

“That’s ridiculous,” Tamamori scoffs. “I can just hug pillow-san, and he doesn’t say weird shit or try to keep me up talking about anime half the night!”

Miyata laughs, eyes knowing, and when Tamamori lets his guard down a moment, Miyata wraps arms around him from behind, warm all down Tamamori’s back, pressing lips to the back of Tamamori’s neck.

“Leggo,” Tamamori scolds, but he’s melting into the touch. Waaaaarm.

“Stay over tonight,” Miyata murmurs, lips brushing Tamamori’s piercings, and if Tamamori shoves him against the wall and crushes their mouths together rather than agreeing verbally, he figures it can’t be helped.

There is the eyeliner clause, after all.

13 people like this post.

Like

Unlike