Rating/Warnings: PG for hotel bathtime
Summary: There's some benefits to having a third roommate during debut tour.
AN: 30 kisses, day 25. Sorry about the title, Leader, I couldn't resist :X
As soon as they get back to the room, Tamamori is out cold, face down on the bed, all of his clothes still on.
"Guess he won't have to worry about falling asleep last," Miyata chuckles, but Kitayama can read the loneliness underneath his grin. He feels for both of them, Tamamori too exhausted already before they even start the run of concerts this weekend, Miyata missing his best friend for weeks on end, even now that he's half a meter away.
"Help me get him undressed at least," Kitayama says, because he knows from experience how much it sucks to wake up after crashing with all your clothes on. The two of them roll Tamamori over easily enough and strip him of jeans and shirt, Tamamori barely stirring the entire time. He blinks at them blearily when they drag the blanket out from underneath him.
"Sorry," he mumbles, eyes already closing again. Miyata just drops the blanket on top of him and smoothes his hair back.
"Just sleep, idiot," he says, voice gentle, and the words aren't even out of his mouth before Tamamori is following his advice, breathing even. Miyata stays like that another moment, hand still on his hair, before he heaves a quiet sigh.
"Come on," Kitayama, reaching over to squeeze Miyata's shoulder. "Let's take a bath, huh?"
"Mm," Miyata nods, then pulls his eyes away from Tamamori, "yeah, okay."
They turn the water up as hot as they can stand it and let it ease their concert-achy muscles, talking easily about stupid things, what either of them have been watching and which staff member mixed up their skates again, whether Miyata brought enough underwear this time (probably not) and how long Yokoo will make Nikaido suffer before sharing his facial cleanser (no telling, really, not that it ever seems to teach Nikaido a lesson).
The tub seems too big with just the two of them, but they still sit with shoulders pressed tightly together, leaving the space on either side. By the time the water is cooling, Miyata's eyes are drooping heavily, and Kitayama urges him out of the water so they can wrap themselves up in the slightly-scratchy hotel towels. Kitayama has to suppress a smile at the cuteness of Miyata rubbing his towel over his wet hair and leaving it poofing in all directions.
"Let him sleep," Kitayama says when Miyata's eyes stray to Tamamori's bed as soon as they come out of the bathroom. He doesn't bother with clothes, but crawls directly into bed; he holds up a corner of the blankets in invitation. "Keep me warm?"
Miyata's mouth twitches. "Cute, Leader."
"Hey, I've warned you about that," Kitayama says, Miyata already sliding into bed beside him, sliding in close enough to wrap arms around Kitayama's chest and to rest his cheek against Kitayama's shoulder. Kitayama lets him cling, running a hand through Miyata's still-damp hair in steady, soothing strokes. "We'll have him back soon enough. Filming isn't forever."
"I know." Miyata sighs, breath warm against Kitayama's skin. "Thanks." For a minute or two the only sounds are Tamamori's snuffling breathing and the soft brush of skin sliding against bare skin. "Hey, Mitsu?"
Kitayama leans up on one elbow to look at Miyata, but instead of saying anything else, Miyata kisses him. The kiss is sweet and unhurried, Miyata's tongue curling around Kitayama's like his arms are twined around Kitayama's chest, their noses brushing gently together. When it breaks naturally, Kitayama feels heavy with sleep, warm all through.
"And that was about…" Kitayama prompts.
"Mm." Miyata shrugs, dropping his head to rest against Kitayama's shoulder again. "Keep rooming with us, okay? All tour. Next tour, too."
"Idiot." Kitayama draws fingers down Miyata's spine, lets his chin rest on Miyata's head. "Who else am I gonna room with?"
Miyata hums happily, already falling asleep, and Kitayama isn't far behind. He has to make the best use of his heated body pillow while he can, before Tamamori rests up enough to return to his usual possessive self.