Just a silly idea I had... thanks for betaing once again, Eike. You are sixteen shades of awesome.

by Avarice

Nowaki slowly opened his eyes, blinking blearily. His body automatically moved to get out of bed, before he remembered it was Sunday, a day off.

The knowledge made him instantly relax. Instead of getting up, he chose to stretch his legs right out. His toes poked through underneath the sheet at the foot of the bed and he felt a draft. Their next bed would definitely have to accommodate his height better.

Nowaki rolled over and came face to face with his sleeping bed mate. Hiroki was sound asleep on his side, one hand shoved underneath the pillow, the other resting on the mattress in front of him.

A shaft of sunlight from the window behind Nowaki caught the highlights in his hair, and emphasised the dark crescent moon eyelashes on his cheeks.

Ever so gently, Nowaki ran his fingers down the bare skin of Hiroki's shoulder. His brow furrowed for just a moment, before smoothing again. The sleeping man let out a little huff of air, blowing a few strands of hair up and away from his face.

"Hiro-san," Nowaki whispered, and Hiroki stirred. His fingers flexed and eyes moved under eyelids, but stayed closed.

He waited a few moments more, stroking Hiroki's shoulder, before being rewarded with another movement. This time Hiroki's eyelashes fluttered, a sliver of brown visible for a second before they shut again. Lips twitched as a murmur escaped them.

Perfect conditions to have a little bit of fun.

Nowaki had discovered a while ago that in the brief time between sleep and awake, Hiroki was somewhat lucid and refreshingly frank. The discovery had been quite by accident, but after a few conversations with his delightfully sleepy lover -- who never remembered the details upon properly waking -- Nowaki took every opportunity presented to have onea drowsy exchange.

"Hiro-san, are you awake?" Nowaki asked.

"No," Hiroki muttered in a sleep-addled voice.

"What's your favourite colour?" There was always a chance Hiroki was pretending, and not really in that true sleep-talking frame of mind.

There was a slight pause before Hiroki answered, "Purple."

Nowaki grinned. There was no way Hiroki would admit that if he was properly awake.

"Purple is your favourite? I would have thought maybe brown."

"Brown is boring," Hiroki answered. "I like brighter colours."

"Like what?" Nowaki prompted.

"Like purple, I already said." Even in his half-asleep state, Hiroki still retained his prickly personality, and Nowaki couldn't help but love it. "But also blue. And red," he added.

"I see," Nowaki nodded sagely. His fingers skimmed Hiroki's forehead, brushing a few strands away. At his touch Hiroki made a small huff, but didn't stir any further. "You're a very smart man, Hiro-san."

"Of course I am," Hiroki replied matter-of-factly, pulling the sheet a little further up his body, "I'm an assistant professor."

It took Nowaki a moment to bite his lip, lest he laugh and spoil everything by waking Hiroki. He took in a slow breath before answering. "You are." Nowaki gave a little sigh. "Maybe one day I will be as great a doctor as you are an assistant professor."

"You will be," Hiroki said, sounding very confident. "Just don't leave Japan again." Nowaki's eyes widened at the statement. "At least not without me," Hiroki added after a brief pause.

A lump formed in Nowaki's throat that suddenly made swallowing a very hard thing. To hear Hiroki's statement so plainly -- without the incessant verbal loops they sometimes found themselves stuck in -- was unexpected, and went straight to his heart. Nowaki moved to prop his head on his elbow.

"I won't, Hiro-san. I won't leave you ever again," he managed to get out; putting his hand over Hiroki's outstretched one, allowing their fingers to interlace. His skin was warm to touch, and it comforted him.

"Good," Hiroki said, absently moving his hand beneath the pillow. "Don't want to lose my favourite things."

"Really?" Nowaki queried, feeling a little better. "What are your favourite things?"

Hiroki scratched his nose, eyelids opening just enough for Nowaki to make out his heavily dilated pupils. "Books. Daifuku. You."

"I rate behind a rice cake dessert?"

"They are very sweet..." Hiroki trailed off as his mouth opened in a wide yawn.

"Just like you," Nowaki answered, leaning in close to brush their lips together. Hiroki's eyes fluttered at the contact, and he allowed it for a few moments before a hand came up to push gently Nowaki's shoulder away.

"Just like me what?" Hiroki yawned and rubbed his eyes. "What are you talking about?" He looked tired, but definitely more lucid.

"Nothing much," Nowaki answered mildly. He pressed his lips to Hiroki's more firmly. "Good morning, Hiro-san."

Hiroki grumbled a 'good morning,', squinting at the sunlight coming in from the window. With a fatigued sigh, he pulled the sheet up and over his head.

"I told you not to watch me when I sleep," Hiroki's muffled voice complained.

"But you look too cute," Nowaki teased, scrunching his nose.

A choking splutter made the sheet float up. "Shut up."

Nowaki ducked under the sheet himself to lie face-to-face with Hiroki. "Make me," he answered with the right mix of cheekiness and heat; enough to make Hiroki's cheeks colour slightly.

"Fine," he muttered, like it was some kind of chore, and wrapped his arms around Nowaki's neck. "But after, you're going to make me breakfast."

"Of course." Nowaki's hand drifted down over Hiroki's hip, and he leant forward to kiss Hiroki's jawline. "What do you feel like?"

"Hmm. I have a strange urge for daifuku," Hiroki said. His face was the very picture of confusion as Nowaki pressed his face into Hiroki's neck, silent laughter shaking his body.


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