Prompt: 031 ~ Pillow                                                                                                                                                        May 2011©
Fandom: The GazettE
Focus: Reita x Kitty
Word Count: 715

            Uruha was the one that went out drinking with the boys on a regular basis.

            Reita was the one that usually didn’t come.

            Uruha was the one that had the iron stomach and the insatiable desire for Sake.

            Reita was the one that usually passed on his best friend’s nightly excursions.

            It wasn’t because of Kitty. Neither possessiveness nor any complaint of alcohol ever stirred her to protest to Reita’s going out with Uruha, and no one ever accused her of being the reason behind Reita’s seeming unsociability. She’d taken enough girls’-night-out adventures to actually be the main reason Reita ever DID join his grade-school friend and their cohorts at a bar.

           Reita just didn’t really go out drinking. He could hold his liquor well enough; and his hangovers weren’t too bad, nothing like Ruki’s. He just wasn’t the sort of person to go out drinking.

            Not the drinking part, he liked that well enough for anyone. But the going out and drinking thing, it just wasn’t his thing. Sure he liked talking loosely with his boys, having less than cognate conversations that were always amusing as hell. He loved being able to let loose with the guys, guys he trusted completely and could and would tell anything to. Sometimes though, his crazy ideas were more easily remembered than he would like them to be, concept ideas and such that Ruki latched onto and gave Reita hell for later.

            But there was one thing about drinking that Reita did like, though he would never admit it to anyone. Honestly, he could barely even articulate it to admit it to himself. Long after his keys had been taken away, and Uruha, obnoxious and teasing as always, had insisted that Leslie’s car couldn’t hold him. After he’d slurringly called Kitty for a lift and had managed to stumble home with more than just a little help, and was finally curled up on the couch, Reita could appreciate his nights on the town.

            When he was able to lay with his head on Kitty’s lap, no doubt looking rather ridiculous, as Kitty’s cool fingers brushed against his face; when he was so smashed that he could accept her ministrations while blissfully unaware of the severe lack of masculinity in the situation; when he could take a moment to stop pretending that he didn’t enjoy all of Kitty’s little quirks; that was when he could truly say that he enjoyed his nights out drinking.

            It was only when he was completely drunk, absolutely sloshed, that he would allow himself to be held like this, like some sort of little kid or a puppy that Kitty had taken a fancy to. He wasn’t the kind of girly guy to be okay with Kitty taking care of him, he was strong enough to take his role as her boyfriend, as the man in her life, seriously. Only when he was drunk would his manly sensibilities be clouded enough for him to let Kitty be the one protecting him, instead of the other, proper, way around without feeling any of the bliss-tempering embarrassment he knew he should.

            In all honesty, there was no pillow on earth that was more perfectly comfortable that Kitty’s lap. There was nothing softer to a throbbing headache, there was nothing more stabilizing to a dizzied skull, nothing more supportive or more wonderful in the world. Reita loved having his head rest on her thighs as Kitty looked down softly with half lidded eyes that were sweet and protective, nurturing. It was such a sweet expression, so all encompassing of everything that Kitty was, that Reita couldn’t help but smile up at her when she looked at him with it.

            In any other circumstance, Reita would have been embarrassed. He didn’t need to be mothered, not by his girlfriend. And seeing Kitty looking so overwhelmingly soft, with none of that spark of volatile energy that leant her a vague sense of fierceness, even as adorably impotent as it was, would normally have made him hypersensitive about his role as her protector. In any other circumstance, Reita wouldn’t have been able to really enjoy Kitty’s presence as this most deliriously blissful of pillows.

            But when he was drunk, everything about his Kitty-pillow was perfect.

            And Reita was just fine with that.


                                                                        ♡♥Finite♥♡