| [Sep. 7th, 2013|02:48 am] |
The really great thing about living in the ANBU rookie barracks wasn't the rent, which was negligible, or the access to hot ninja, who were mostly off-limits. It was, as Katsuko had explained with missionary fervor on the first day's tour, the unlimited hot water in the communal showers. The water was hell on blisters but bliss on bruises, and after just two hours of Raidou's harsh training regimen Ryouma had plenty of both.
He made it halfway into clothes, afterward, before the bed turned too inviting. Raidou and Genma were both in meetings, Katsuko and Kakashi were both off on their own, and he hadn't slept more than five hours in a stretch--or had more than thirty minutes of downtime--since the ANBU Trials. Two hours, he promised himself, and sprawled onto his stomach, with his bad hand curled up against his throat. He could finish the long-delayed unpacking later...
Missions sometimes came at midnight, with a rap on the door. Ryouma lurched off the bed, found the doorknob mostly by accident, and blinked dazedly into the strong light of an interior hallway and the half-masked face of his ANBU captain.
Raidou paused, then slipped the crescent moon mask off over his brows and clipped it on his belt. He'd been wearing grubby training clothes when Ryouma'd last seen him, but he was sleek and polished now in ANBU black and bone, reddish hair clean and just touched with gel. Sun-lines crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Did I wake you?"
"Uh," Ryouma said eloquently. He rubbed a hand over his face, raked his fingers through quite dry and appallingly rumpled hair. "Yeah, I guess." He must have been asleep at least an hour, for his hair to dry. It felt like five minutes, or fifty years. He knuckled his eye. "We got a mission already?"
"Not until that heals," Raidou said, glancing down at Ryouma's bandaged hand on the doorknob. "I just have some news. I can come back?"
"Hell no," Ryouma said. "I love news." He stood back, holding the door open, and caught sight of his bare shoulder, the silver gleam of the ring below.
Shit.
"Sorry," he said, dropping the door, dodging back. There was a black tee-shirt draped over a box on the floor, just short of the hamper; he caught it up and pulled it on. "I wasn't—"
Wasn't trying to seduce you, right. That sounded far worse.
"Fell asleep after the shower," he said, instead. He was wearing pants, right? Well, loose athletic shorts. That was just as good. "What's the news?"
Raidou was staring at his chest, looking fascinated. "Zombie dolphin. That's new."
Ryouma glanced quickly down. No, not a new tattoo, just a lurid graphic print on the tee-shirt. "Feral Porpoises," he translated after a moment. "It's a band."
"Right," Raidou said, and dragged his eyes back up to Ryouma's face. "Mind if I come in?"
"No," Ryouma said. He pressed the heel of his hand between his eyes and blinked very hard. "I mean, sure. I don't mind. Come in."
Adrenaline was usually a much better cure for exhaustion than this. It was Raidou alone in his room clogging his thoughts, and Raidou's shoulders in ANBU uniform, and the sharp counter-cut of No ANBU agent is permitted to fraternize with a senior officer.
He'd been relieved, when Raidou first listed that rule. It answered all the questions neither of them had to ask: no Where do we stand, no I don't really do second nights. Ryouma didn't typically approve of other peoples' rules, but they were infinitely preferable to explanations.
Except apparently his libido had woken up before his brain, and his brain was having a hard time in the resulting fog. |
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