Work Text:
Win wakes up to Team glued against his chest, head of dark hair nestled to his neck and arms wrapped around to Win’s back. They hadn’t fallen asleep like this, so it must have happened overnight, but Win is slightly concerned that his boyfriend has lost all feeling in the arm that Win is currently imprinting into the mattress below. He lifts himself up just enough to remove Team’s arm and lays it straight along Team’s side to remedy the situation.
Team’s bangs have fallen messily into his eyes; he hasn’t gotten a cut in months and it’s starting to show. Win wouldn’t dare complain, not when one of his favorite activities is running his fingers through Team’s hair, no matter the time or place. Team used to act annoyed by it but has long since accepted Win’s obsession as a part of daily life. (And he’d be a liar if he said he doesn’t love the gentle, insistent tug of Win’s hands on his scalp.)
Win pushes it back from his boyfriend’s face right then, just because he can, and watches his breathing continue steadily as he does. It’s insane to think that almost four years ago, Team’s nightmares and insomnia rendered him sleepless sometimes for days in a row. They spend nights with each other now, and Win couldn’t imagine (and he wouldn’t want to) having anyone else with him in this bed, the one they’d bought together for their apartment. They’d devoted an entire day to roaming around a home furnishing store in the mall and testing mattresses, receiving strange looks from strangers and employees alike in their quest.
All totally worth it though, when Win would throw himself onto the bed to bounce Team nearly to the floor, making him lose breath from laughing. Like a cliché rom-com, Win had landed almost on top of Team one of those times, faces so close their noses could have bumped, and they’d both known right that second that this had to be their bed. This is where they’d sleep, watch movies on Team’s laptop, and do… other things not allowed in a public furniture store.
They’re under its blankets like so many times before, toasty from sleep and with no plans to move, but Win never fails to be surprised that Team is still here. Here in his life, wanting and willing to put up with him. He tightens his hold on Team when his nose scrunches adorably, a sign that he’s waking up. Win doesn’t want this moment to end just yet, but Team’s dark eyes open to look right into Win’s and Win can’t help smiling, small and secret.
“’Morning,” he says.
Team nods, pushing his head back against Win’s neck. “Lunch at Pharm and Dean’s,” he mumbles.
“Mm.”
“What time’s it?”
“Almost 11.”
Team pulls back. “11? Hia!”
“I’m not allowed to let you sleep?” Win asks innocently. He moves the short distance to nuzzle Team’s cheek with his own. “You looked too comfortable, don’t be mad.” Team huffs and presses again into Win, making Win laugh, and says something that Win doesn’t quite make out. “What’s that?”
“Love you,” Team says, slightly louder and sounding rather put-out at having to repeat himself.
Win’s smile melts, as it always does when Team says something like that. “Love you,” he says, and he thinks he might mean it more each time, which seems impossible but must be true, because that’s how it feels. “I love you,” he says again, for good measure, and Team flushes. Win doesn’t want to wake up to anyone else’s doe eyes or pink blush, he’s known for a long time now. He’d even say he’s known since the first time Team had needed to sleep in Win’s dorm and asked with this look on his face like he was trying to look tough or unbreakable if Win turned him down. What if he had? What if in some upside-down world, Win had turned Team away and left him to his nightmares?
“Wait a sec’,” he orders Team, who shrugs and stretches as Win jumps off the bed to make for the closet.
“Pharm said not to bring anything,” Team says, louder than usual so Win can hear him, “but I don’t trust him. What, he’s gonna make everything? Maybe we should stop for something. Do you think so?” Win steps back into their bedroom from the closet and Team looks at him expectantly. “What do you think?” he asks again.
“I think I…” Win throws himself onto the bed and Team is bounced up. He swats at Win, a laugh surprised out of him. Win tackles Team back against the blankets, and presses a kiss to his mouth, stealing his breath.
“Hia!” Team shouts, almost whining, as soon as Win breaks away, “what’re you trying to pull? We have to go!”
Win pulls a rectangular box out from his pajama pant’s pocket and holds it above Team’s face. “Open it.”
“Huh? Whose birthday is it? Our anniversary—”
He pulls Team until he’s sitting up on the bed and folds the black box into his palm. Team looks at the box, eyebrows drawn together, and then lifts the top to reveal a bracelet. It’s a dark brown strip, the only design a shallow cut into the leather to resemble ocean waves. He recognizes it as the one Win has worn on his wrist for at least a year, but he’s still wearing it, which means this is for some reason its match. He looks at Win, confused.
“Marry me, Team,” Win says, like he’s asking what he wants for breakfast, and Team stares at him.
“Huh?” he says for a second time.
“Marry me,” Win insists. “I didn’t know when I was gonna do this but I… I’ve had this bracelet for a year and a half waiting to give it to you.” He holds up his wrist, where the match to Team’s gift rests. “I didn’t get this just for the hell of it, Team.”
“Hia,” Team says, “you’ve had these this entire time?” Win nods, and Team whacks him. “You could’ve proposed a year after we started dating and I would’ve said yes, you idiot!” It’s Win’s turn to look confused and Team rolls his eyes. “I’ll marry you. What the fuck would I have said, no?”
Win grabs Team around the waist and hauls him into his lap, giving him a sound kiss. “No take-backs,” he tells Team, ruffling his mussed hair with another press of lips.
“I’ll manage,” Team replies. He buries himself into Win’s chest, his fiancé’s arms snaking around his back to hold him there. “I do love you, you know.”
“I love you,” Win answers, because there’s never been another answer to give.