[fic] In such circumstances
Title: In Such Circumstances
Summary: Who would have thought that after all those years they’d reunite in such circumstances? [Ryoma/Sakuno]
Rating: M
Note/s: Written for iu_fanfiction's WC #43: Kink | prompt: One night stand
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He dreams of that girl again, running towards the giant tree on top of the hill. He can’t catch up, not even when she kept on tripping or when the tip of her long braids were just a hair’s-breadth away.
This time, he keeps on exerting effort. Just a little bit, he reaches out and grabs the elastic that holds her hair together. The knots unwind and her brown hair loosens into soft waves. He feels the ground disappearing whilst they float easily in midair. She shyly looks back at the culprit and unfastens the remaining braid. They just stare at each other while feeling velvety warmth surround them.
He won’t blink; he might lose sight of her again. Or forget her. Or be reminded that it is all just a dream.
-
Rising from a heap of blankets that covered his bare body, he rubs his eyes and tries to focus on a single object. The world is turning round and round and round… he closes it again and sighs.
Nausea, go away. Never ever come back again.
The right side shifts, he feels. Great. He’ll be required to do another classic morning-after confrontation. Unlike the other times, he can’t escape this particular scenario unless he’s willing to go against his principles and throw out the unclothed woman in the middle of the busy metro. Ugh. Why did he have to take her inside his own flat?
His eyes open and peek at the person beside him. A brunette who reminded him of someone. Scandalously long hair spills like chocolate milk on the white pillows. Curious, he takes hold of a small fraction and feels them. Soft, silky. He opens his palms and lets it slide off.
She shifts again, now her body nearer to his. She looks so innocent in her sleep, but judging from the evidence around him, what happened the night before was anything close to the word. Traces of makeup are still left. Lipstick smudged at the corners of her mouth. Unconsciously, he touches his own. Maybe he shares the same hue, granted that he did kiss her.
She stirs again. A groan. “Shit, my head,” she mumbles.
Her eyes still shut; she sits up and runs a hand through her scalp. He’s used to naked bodies but he feels a bit unnerved by the amount of skin exposed.
“Oh my, where am I?”
Blink, blink. She takes in her environment and the naked truth of the current situation.
Three, two, one…
Silence.
“Good morning,” she greets groggily.
Silence.
“Oh, it’s not a really good morning but what the hell it’s just a greeting.”
He just stares at her, unable to comprehend why she’s not freaking out. Or asking for a second round. Not that he's asking for one.
“Can you slap me, please? I need to know if I’m dreaming or not.”
No response from the other party. She catches him off guard with a painful smack.
“The fu-what the hell was that for?” he exclaims, holding the targeted part. She looks up and then at the wall behind him. She slowly covers herself more with the blanket. “Oh my god, this thing is real, isn’t it?” she says quietly.
He gives her a look. Obviously.
She bows her head and says, “I’m really sorry for…” Her cheeks heat up. “…everything.” He dismisses it with a casual wave, but she profusely bows some more.
“Do you mind if I use your bathroom for a while?” she asks shyly.
“First door to the right,” he replies as he cocks his head towards the said direction. She hops of the bed with the blanket as her cover and collects her portion of clothes pooled near the door.
As soon as she disappeared, he breathes a sigh. At least that part is already done. What comes after that, he doesn’t have an idea. Bit by bit, he recalls everything. After the wedding of one of his rivals, he walked in a nearby bar. Then, she met him. A couple of words exchanged. More than a couple of glasses guzzled.
Tears shed. Comfort given. Kisses shared. Eventually, everything led to this… thing.
It would have been better if she were a complete stranger. But she isn’t. He remembers somewhere along their conversation that during his younger years she has met him. She is the coach’s granddaughter, that clumsy girl who had extremely long braids and who was always with her best friend, the Horio’s female counterpart. How could he forget her? She made awesome bento, and somehow aside from the team, she was akin to a friend.
He stares at the direction of the door. Who would have thought that after all those years they’d reunite in such circumstances?
...
So, how does he deal with the situation again?
He goes back under his covers. He’ll think about that later.