The dimly-lit room is cluttered with books and papers and dirty cups and some clothes that need washing. The window is not-quite closed, the curtains fully open. The weather is cloudy but hot and muggy just the same, and the time is 3.07am.

And in the bed, wrapped in too-tight sheets that seem to only constrain with each exhaled breath, Yuki Eiri cannot sleep.

A shift in the bed, a slight tip in the balance of the mattress. The mop of pink hair moves around. Yuki doesn't see the peek of blue eyes as they open, but he knows of them all the same; the image in his mind is as clear as if he were looking straight at him. As it is, Yuki's back is to his lover, so he sees only in his mind his lover sitting half-up, knees drawn into chest.

"Yuki?"

The novelist does not deign an answer, but Shuichi knows he's awake anyway. Shuichi's just annoying like that.

"What's wrong?"

"Go back to sleep."

Even faced with such an unwelcome response, Shuichi presses on. He's stubborn, and used to Yuki anyway. He takes the answer as an encouragement, because at least its an answer, even such a rude one.

"What's the matter?" he asks again.

"Its just hot. Go to sleep."

Apparently even monosyllabic answers do not phase the vocalist. Yuki wonders where his lover gets his perseverance from. Or, he reflects after a brief moment, it is possibly only blind stupidity.

"Why can't you sleep?"

Before meeting Shuichi, Yuki didn't even know you could get such stupidity coupled with a strange perceptiveness in the same person, let alone in the same person in the same night.

"I told you. Its hot."

"The fan's on."

"That thing doesn't do anything."

Does he ever get tired of it? Yuki ponders this for a little. He surely must get tired of it sometime, with Yuki's surely manner and insensitivities. Actions speak louder than words - the problem is, both Yuki's words and his actions more often than not give off the exact same, very precise message: fuck off.

"C'mon, Yuki, just tell me!"

He's whining now, with that whiny voice in that whiny tone that he just knows sets Yuki's teeth on edge.

"I just can't sleep, okay! Christ, its not the end of the world, Shuichi!"

But he's all happy now, because Yuki called him by actual name. Out of all the names he could have used, Yuki chose to call him that, and now his smile, even if Yuki still doesn't see it, could light up a Christmas tree.

"Love you Yuki!" he says, voice somehow giddy-sounding. Like he's been on the merry-go-round or something, thinks Yuki almost-but-not-quite affectionately.

Yuki doesn't say, 'I love you too'. Such words are hard to say at the best of times for him, let alone at this hour of the morning. But that's okay, since Shuichi knows it anyway, or else he wouldn't be kissing the back of his neck like that, and Yuki wouldn't be letting him. But he does, and Shuichi is content.

Yuki would have thought that being kissed on the back of the neck would be a wake-up call rather than something relaxing, but then he reminds himself that its Shuichi he's thinking about, so of course its relaxing... this flash of insight doesn't really make sense at all to the part of Yuki's mind still working logically, but to the rest it does, and so early in the day that even the birds are not yet up, that's what counts.

So, without conscious effort, Yuki's body un-tenses muscle by muscle until even his toes seem heavier. He's glad that Shuichi can't see his eyes go to half-mast, either.

"'Night, Yuki."

The blonde manages a kind of grunt in response – not out of any particular rudeness this time, but because his mouth just doesn't seem to want to work properly, which is okay at that point. Its all okay, for now.

The room is still dimly-lit, and still just as cluttered with books and papers and dirty cups and some clothes that need washing. The window is still not-quite closed and the curtains still fully open. Even the weather is still cloudy yet hot and muggy.

But nonetheless, the time is 3.08am.

Shuichi's breathing fills his ears, soft and even, and Yuki's eyes close fully just before the clock ticks away another minute. Sprawled on his side, sheets loosely tangled and neck strangely warm, Yuki sleeps.