They both knew he'd have to go back to work eventually. This wasn't surprising.

He knew what was coming. That it was time to sit in a stuffy office with one sinfully tiny window that produced what barely counted as "natural light" but somehow managed to make it past inspection because, really, working conditions were the last of the New City's concern.

He'd have to deal with Tori forgetting to bring him the correct, most recent results from the merger and somehow find the time and means to personally answer the scrawly letters of suggestion from the West Block residents without keeping any information from them, staying honest and straightforward about his goals at all times.

Of course they'd be out of coffee again and he'd have to bike all the way to Rikiga's to get some, a necessity at this point to avoid falling asleep at the conference table when talking about land restoration technology. By now it would be noon and he'd have to bike over to the office in inner West Block to get parts for the new train system since everyone else suddenly would become just too busy trying to fix the horrible computer malfunction of the week that cropped up out of nowhere.

It was going to be hell and a half and Shion would normally leap into it with intensity and enthusiasm only observed in certain particularly motivated worker bees but—

But Nezumi.

Nezumi- warm and sleeping and very naked and very close, currently out cold on Shion's arm, long hair down and spread out, sticking to his skin just slightly with the sweat from their previous night's activities.

How could he leave that?

Shion's wanting to kiss him was rapidly evolving into need the longer he stared at the sleeping boy and this was a problem. He had to go now. He had to climb out of bed, lift the covers, put on that suit, tie his tie and know that Nezumi would be around when he got back.

It took everything Shion had just to pull the covers back but then Nezumi was stirring and grey eyes were fluttering and there was this soft sweet -sounding exhale that was so quiet and gentle and kind of pissy and so very Nezumi that Shion knew the pathetic motivation he had just spent so much time scrounging up had shriveled up and blown away. A pink tongue barely peeked out to wet dry, but somehow still smooth, lips and Shion broke.

He had a fist full of the taller boy's hair and the taste of that damned tongue in his mouth before Nezumi had time to pant out a startled "good morning".

Today he'd just have to call in sick.