[Come morning (more like noon), Dojima stirs when the sun hits just right through Adachi's blinds and into his eyes, turning over. His arm lands over his double's chest, leg flopping over his, face nestled right in the crook of his neck. To him, this is all familiar - waking up next to Adachi, sometimes being the one to cuddle up if he was hung over enough. To the other Dojima, this is probably... not so familiar. (Just keep building up the evidence, Dojima.) His voice is muffled, and still a bit slurred; though probably from grogginess this time.]
no subject
Y'need some curtains, Adachi.