Author’s Notes: o-o;; whim?? warnings are for shounen ai [seiji + touma, ryo + touma(?)] and...er....that’s it. disclaimer is that I am not the person who made or owns yst, nor am I Tegan OR Sara, nor am I T.S. Eliot; just a fangirl who loves to procrastinate her algebra two on the excuse of artistic development.

----backseat nostalgic

There was a terrible storm and you were wearing all our coats

Bundled against his companion’s side, a thin and tired figure slept; soft blue hair tumbled over his brow and curled on his cheek. He was apart from the people he was wrapped around, strangely and thinly alone in unplanned ways. Masterful fingers crooned their way through his hair and he, in his sleep, rolled in to the touch.

“He’s worn out.”

Soft and cool smiles from gentle lips in the front passenger seat.

“What, from all that reading?” Adoring, teasing. Shin looked over his shoulder at the sleeping boy as Shuu spared a glance in the review mirror, eyes crinkling up in an unshared smile.

Ryo leant across Seiji’s lap to drape his jacket over Touma, and the blonde took a sleeve and straightened it. The tired face twitched, and eyes fluttered open, nose wrinkling.

“’Smell easter eggs...”

“You’re imagining it.” Seiji’s voice was ecompassing and convincing. Touma nodded slowly and rested his head on the blonde’s thigh, falling into sleep again.

“Easter eggs?” Shuu raised his eyebrows in the mirror.

“Dreaming.”

“Mmhmm.” Shuu nodded and gripped the wheel, grinning a bit as he flicked on the windshield wipers and cleared the spattered windowpane. Like so many random tears the raindrops fell, like breaking down in their room’s when everyone else was laughing, crying at the sanctity of it all. They all had that, even Seiji, even Touma.

Sweet dreams of easter eggs would be a welcome relief for any of them. The sea pounded on either side of the bridge, fifty feet below crashing on metal pillars that fought God. Shin closed his eyes and breathed in the rain in the air, atmosphere seeping in through imperceivable cracks in windows and doors.

“It was a beautiful afternoon,” Ryo amended to the rain, “the beach was gorgeous. Even when it got stormy farther out it was still great. Now its awfully murky.”

“I think its splendid.” Shin glanced back again and frowned at permeating dampness on dark blue hair. “He’s going to catch a cold, I just know it.”

To add support Touma coughed, twice, in his sleep, and shifted so he was sprawled over his seat and Seiji’s lap. His knees were brought up and his spine was twisted until he settled back down, comfortably asleep once more. There was a few more minutes of silence while Seiji just traced the chill down Touma’s spine soothingly, tenderly and caring. His lips twitched to press feathery kisses to the pale temple that blue encroached on, until he gave in and warmth tickled cool skin. He readjusted the red-and-white jean jacket until it covered shivering arms (‘braceleted and white and bare,’ he remembered from Touma’s forced readings, ‘but in the lamplight downed with light brown hair.’1), naked but for shirtsleeves worn thin from frequent wear.

“I shouldn’t have let him go swimming in his clothes,” Shin finally lamented, after silence surmounted into reflection.

“You let all of us swim in our clothes.” Ryo pointed out, leaning forward in his seat to tousel Shin’s auburn hair.

“He catches cold easier.” Shin insisted, and Ryo ruffled his hair and sat back in his seat, not bothering to argue.

Shuu tapped his fingers against the wheel to the beat of a tune he heard in his head but didn’t quite remember, listening to the voices and muted snoring of the others and Touma, respectively. He was hungry and they’d pass a nice seafood restaurant on the way. But, he thought, looking into the backseat, Touma was already asleep and the rest were tired. So he could eat at home, he thought, after they’d put Touma to bed. Maybe Shin would make them all hot chocolat, and keep a mug warm in case Touma woke up, and then they’d all go to bed after Shuu drank Touma’s cup.

“The weather was too cold in any case; why did we go to the beach?” Shin mused. “Honestly, in November...”

“Early November, and it was sixty this afternoon. The swimming was impromptu, and we went for fun.” Seiji reminded Suiko. “It was worth it, in any case, even if he does catch cold.”

Shin hmfd a bit, pursing his lips in thought. “I’ll make some hot chocolat when we get home, since its so chilly...”

Shuu cheered internally. His thoughts went to half-melted marshmellows amid thick chocolat froth.

Touma decided his position wasn’t comfortable enough again, as the end of the bridge came into sight. It was a long one; there was a little island they liked to go to for the beach, a ways off of the shore. At this time of year the beach was emptier than normal and curiously pretty. Nuzzling Seiji’s waist, curling up closer into a fetal position, quiet sleep told them dreams were gone and he was seriously out.

Ryo slid an arm behind Seiji and vyed with him for possesion of silken strands of blue between their fingertips. Shin curled on his side in the front seat, leaning his brow against the headrest and watching the three with soft and sleepy eyes.

“Take a nap too, Shin,” Shuu suggested in a half-whisper, more respectful towards Touma’s sleep once it was deep. Shin “mm”d, his eyes slowly drifting shut, continuously folding and unfolding his legs under him, trying to find a position where they wouldn’t fall asleep and cause him untoward tingling. In the back, Ryo clumsily and tiredly rested his head on Seiji’s shoulder, his fingers still tangled in Touma’s hair. Seiji sighed, now a pillow for two, and watched as Shuu drove and Shin as well slid into dreamland. The roads were dark and empty, their world was solely the five in the car, two in shallow sleep, two awake and warm in silent comradeship, one long gone past the easter eggs and into dark and welcoming oblivion, unaware of the lap under his head or the hands in his hair, or the red and white coat wrapped around his shoulders.

There was a terrible storm and you were wearing all our coats

----backseat nostalgic

Author’s Notes: *_* *sings terrible storm again...and again....* ^^;; I wrote this rather whimsically, but that’s how I end up writing most things o_o;; The lyric at the beginning and end of the ficletishthing is my favorite line from Tegan & Sara’s “Terrible Storm”...they’re really pretty canadian music people and you should listen to them. Now. Er...yeah. >0 I hope you all like this because it cost me an hour of sleep when I hadn’t even gotten into my math homework yet u.U;; ^^; if you don’t that’s okay too, just tell me why o.o; review onegai ^^;;

1-T.S. Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” lines 63-64. I decided to stick with the qoutations of Eliot that seem to reoccur in Touma-fics so often, simply because I think people have the right idea, and Eliot suits him =_=;; To a tee, actually.