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An Ordinary Man	By : firefly124 Category: M through R > Miles Vorkosigan Saga Views: 3052 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Miles Vorkosigan Saga, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Ivan wasn’t sure exactly what woke him, but he strongly suspected it was the throbbing hangover. He groaned softly, and reached for a pillow to cram over his head. This was about when he realized he was not in his own bed, nor was he alone. He squinted his eyes open and just made out a smear of brunette on the pillow next to him. Right, then.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He’d just have to drag himself home first, and then deal with the hangover. At least he was reasonably sure this must be an off-duty day.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> It had been years since he’d been stupid enough to get seriously drunk on a work night.
He eased himself out of the bed gently, with a well-practiced talent for not waking his slumbering partner. Morning after conversations tended to be so awkward. He considered trying to locate some of his clothing, then decided a trip to the lav was the higher priority.
As he emptied his bladder, he became gradually aware that he was rather a mess.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> What exactly had he done with whoever-she-was last night? A shower, too, then. A quick and hopefully quiet shower. He adjusted the water temperature and stepped in.
For a moment he just enjoyed the warm water hitting his face and sluicing down the front of his body. Remembering he wanted to make this fast, and could take a much more luxurious shower at his own flat, he located the soap and started to clean up. He thought the spicy scent of the soap seemed unusually familiar, though he couldn’t quite place it, nor could he imagine too many young ladies favoring it. He tried to remember something, anything, about last night. Clearly he’d enjoyed himself, though it was a tad unusual to find the evidence of that spread over half his abdomen. His head hurt too much to try very hard, though. Perhaps some of it would come back later.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Fully rinsed on this side, he turned to let the water hit his back.
“Ou- class=GramE>“ he half-yelped, before covering his mouth.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> What the hell?style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Hestyle='mso-spacerun:yes'> quickly shut off the water and stood in stunned silence. OK, this was a bit more mystery than he liked out of his mornings after.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Why did his ass sting when the water hit it? Getting home so he could kill this hangover and sort out the events of last night became more imperative than it had already been. He stepped out of the shower, found a towel, and quickly dried off.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>
His cousin, Miles, had once tried to explain to him what it had been like to finally regain his memories after his cryo-revival. A “cascade,” he’d called it, and had said that was a rather apt term.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Of course, Miles hadn’t been sodding drunk when he’d gotten himself blown nearly in half in the first place.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Ivan thought this flood of hazy images and sensations was more like getting swirled through eddies of a muddy stream than being stuck under a waterfall.
Lips pressed furiously against his … a warm mouth pleasuring him … pain that became pleasure … pain in his …
Ivan had to remind himself to start breathing again.
He got rid of the towel and stood by the door, steeling himself to go back into that room. It wasn’t like he had a choice. This lav didn’t even have a window, assuming he’d have been willing to go out it stark naked.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Not that it would have been the first time. He touched the pad to the side of the door, and it slid aside silently. Ivan peered into the room, and saw the figure in the bed still sleeping, still facing away from him. He found the urge to get closer and see who it was entirely resistible.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>
He stole silently out of the bedroom and looked with dismay at the trail of clothing he was going to have to sort through. It took him a few minutes, as a couple of items were remarkably similar.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> When he was reasonably sure he’d gotten only his own clothes on, he took one last look around, but nothing caught his eye to tell him where he was. He let himself out, and exited the building, barely acknowledging the door attendant’s “Good morning, Lord Vorpatril.” He’d gotten about two paces beyond the door before he realized he didn’t know how he’d gotten there, and didn’t want to have to come back for either his groundcar or his lightflyer. He re-entered the building, and asked the attendant to bring his vehicle around, hoping they kept a record of that sort of thing and wouldn’t ask him for more details.
After a few moments, his groundcar was brought to the front door.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He thanked the attendant, dug in his pocket for a suitable gratuity, then fled, hoping he did not look like he was fleeing. Well, it’s not like they’d know which tenant I spent the night with.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He gulped. Unless the night attendant noted that sort of thing along with what vehicle I … we arrived in. Thus distracted, Ivan did not take note of quite where he was, but simply started driving. Eventually, he registered the streets he was traveling, but by this point that information only served to help him find his way home, not to tell him where he’d been.
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An Ordinary Man