Man I've rewritten this like five times and I'm still completely annoyed with the middle part. But because of the deadline being tomorrow, I'm leaving it as is for now. It might get turned into a longer fic at some point if I can figure out what the heck my muse is trying to make me write out here. Anyway, I hope it is somewhat satisfactory for your prompt! ^_^
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In retrospect, the vodka was possibly a bad idea.
"That's a ridiculous move, Shindou!" declared Akira, who decided the stuff in his glass might very well be gasoline judging from the taste, but wasn't going to let Hikaru get away with his declaration that Akira couldn't accomplish anything a normal teenage boy could do.
"YER ridiculous!" snarled Hikaru, who was proud of himself for his perfectly normal young male ability of sneaking alcohol into the house of a friend who really needed to relax once in a while (even though he knew Akira would never have agreed if they didn't have a week left to practice before the tournament).
Akira drained the rest of his small glass just so it would be empty and done with, setting it down with a hard clink beside Hikaru's on the table beside the goban. "I'mma not going to have this discussion with you if you're not serious," he sniffed.
"I'mma?"
Akira turned bright red and gave the goban a frosty glare, as if it were at fault.
Hikaru grinned in triumph as he cleared the board with a sweep of his hand. The move really had been ridiculous; he could tell he wasn't working at full capacity at the moment. But neither was Akira, and Hikaru had a feeling that he could keep it together longer than his straight-laced rival if they kept drinking.
"Ah, Shindou--" Akira started to object, as the dual-toned hair leaned across his vision, Hikaru filling up the bottom of his glass again.
"S'fine!" Hikaru insisted, splashing more into his own glass too. "Night's young!"
Akira was giving the table with its two glasses a dubious look, so Hikaru placed his first black stone on the clean board and announced, "Upper right kosumi."
Pale blue eyes snapped to the goban, brows furrowed. A white stone hit the board with a sharp pachii. Hikaru chuckled and placed his next stone.
~ ~ ~
"FINE then! I'mma GOING to BED!"
"Okaaaay, Touya! You DO that!" Hikaru began to meticulously pick up the black and white stones from their scattered positions on the carpet, placing them in their respective goke one by one with fierce concentration. By the time he finished and stood up, lurching slightly, he wasn't sure exactly where Akira had gone.
Maybe we did drink too much, he thought as he made his way down the hall of Akira's home with that same fierce concentration, watching carefully where he placed his feet. But it wasn't like they had to be up early tomorrow. He didn't see the harm in being a little fuzzy-headed.
Hikaru found Akira's room and pushed open the door, just to make sure his rival hadn't fallen over and collapsed somewhere in the house. For a moment he had an alarming mental image of Akira face-down in the pond in his front yard, but thankfully that was immediately replaced with the actual image beyond Akira's bedroom door as it swung open.
The dark-haired pro raised his head and gave Hikaru a fuzzy glare. "Your futon's not in here," he informed him primly, hiding any confusion on his face with a scornful flat look.
"I know that!" Hikaru snapped. "I wuz making sure you weren't inna pond!"
Akira blinked several times. "The pond?"
"Pfft. Never mind." Hikaru looked around Akira's room. Like the rest of the home, the room was set up in the traditional Japanese style. Unlike Hikaru's own room with its western bed, Akira had pulled his futon out of its storage place and had it half-rolled out on the floor.
Hikaru had been to Akira's house many times before for games of go, and he felt at ease here. Now, with his thoughts wrapped in a warm fluffy blanket thanks to the vodka, he decided Akira's room was as inviting and comfortable as the rest of the place. He decided Akira was comfortable too. The guest room at the other end of the hall suddenly seemed cold and lonely.
"Um, can I... set up my futon in here?" He hadn't planned to say it, but as soon as the words left his mouth he felt like it was a stupendous idea.
Akira looked at his guest with suspicion. "Why?"
"Uh... Cuz yer pretty drunk! I'll make sure you don' sleepwalk and fall inna pond tonight."
Akira snorted. "Ridiculous." Hikaru expected to be subsequently kicked out, but then his rival studied the floor, as if perhaps trying to calculate the space of a futon beside his own. After a moment he muttered a quiet affirmative.
Ha! Thank you, alcohol! Hikaru grinned and hurried out to retrieve his bedding from the guest room, managing to get it back to Akira's room with a minimal of tripping and dragging most of it behind him. Teeth were brushed, lights were turned off, both young males arranged themselves in their respective beds.
Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea, Hikaru thought, sliding closer to Akira's futon.
~ ~ ~
In the morning, Hikaru's head and stomach were at war to see who could make him feel more sorry for himself. Listening to sounds of illness coming from Akira's bathroom, he thought the vodka was probably a bad idea after all.
Team Korea!
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In retrospect, the vodka was possibly a bad idea.
"That's a ridiculous move, Shindou!" declared Akira, who decided the stuff in his glass might very well be gasoline judging from the taste, but wasn't going to let Hikaru get away with his declaration that Akira couldn't accomplish anything a normal teenage boy could do.
"YER ridiculous!" snarled Hikaru, who was proud of himself for his perfectly normal young male ability of sneaking alcohol into the house of a friend who really needed to relax once in a while (even though he knew Akira would never have agreed if they didn't have a week left to practice before the tournament).
Akira drained the rest of his small glass just so it would be empty and done with, setting it down with a hard clink beside Hikaru's on the table beside the goban. "I'mma not going to have this discussion with you if you're not serious," he sniffed.
"I'mma?"
Akira turned bright red and gave the goban a frosty glare, as if it were at fault.
Hikaru grinned in triumph as he cleared the board with a sweep of his hand. The move really had been ridiculous; he could tell he wasn't working at full capacity at the moment. But neither was Akira, and Hikaru had a feeling that he could keep it together longer than his straight-laced rival if they kept drinking.
"Ah, Shindou--" Akira started to object, as the dual-toned hair leaned across his vision, Hikaru filling up the bottom of his glass again.
"S'fine!" Hikaru insisted, splashing more into his own glass too. "Night's young!"
Akira was giving the table with its two glasses a dubious look, so Hikaru placed his first black stone on the clean board and announced, "Upper right kosumi."
Pale blue eyes snapped to the goban, brows furrowed. A white stone hit the board with a sharp pachii. Hikaru chuckled and placed his next stone.
~ ~ ~
"FINE then! I'mma GOING to BED!"
"Okaaaay, Touya! You DO that!" Hikaru began to meticulously pick up the black and white stones from their scattered positions on the carpet, placing them in their respective goke one by one with fierce concentration. By the time he finished and stood up, lurching slightly, he wasn't sure exactly where Akira had gone.
Maybe we did drink too much, he thought as he made his way down the hall of Akira's home with that same fierce concentration, watching carefully where he placed his feet. But it wasn't like they had to be up early tomorrow. He didn't see the harm in being a little fuzzy-headed.
Hikaru found Akira's room and pushed open the door, just to make sure his rival hadn't fallen over and collapsed somewhere in the house. For a moment he had an alarming mental image of Akira face-down in the pond in his front yard, but thankfully that was immediately replaced with the actual image beyond Akira's bedroom door as it swung open.
The dark-haired pro raised his head and gave Hikaru a fuzzy glare. "Your futon's not in here," he informed him primly, hiding any confusion on his face with a scornful flat look.
"I know that!" Hikaru snapped. "I wuz making sure you weren't inna pond!"
Akira blinked several times. "The pond?"
"Pfft. Never mind." Hikaru looked around Akira's room. Like the rest of the home, the room was set up in the traditional Japanese style. Unlike Hikaru's own room with its western bed, Akira had pulled his futon out of its storage place and had it half-rolled out on the floor.
Hikaru had been to Akira's house many times before for games of go, and he felt at ease here. Now, with his thoughts wrapped in a warm fluffy blanket thanks to the vodka, he decided Akira's room was as inviting and comfortable as the rest of the place. He decided Akira was comfortable too. The guest room at the other end of the hall suddenly seemed cold and lonely.
"Um, can I... set up my futon in here?" He hadn't planned to say it, but as soon as the words left his mouth he felt like it was a stupendous idea.
Akira looked at his guest with suspicion. "Why?"
"Uh... Cuz yer pretty drunk! I'll make sure you don' sleepwalk and fall inna pond tonight."
Akira snorted. "Ridiculous." Hikaru expected to be subsequently kicked out, but then his rival studied the floor, as if perhaps trying to calculate the space of a futon beside his own. After a moment he muttered a quiet affirmative.
Ha! Thank you, alcohol! Hikaru grinned and hurried out to retrieve his bedding from the guest room, managing to get it back to Akira's room with a minimal of tripping and dragging most of it behind him. Teeth were brushed, lights were turned off, both young males arranged themselves in their respective beds.
Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea, Hikaru thought, sliding closer to Akira's futon.
~ ~ ~
In the morning, Hikaru's head and stomach were at war to see who could make him feel more sorry for himself. Listening to sounds of illness coming from Akira's bathroom, he thought the vodka was probably a bad idea after all.