Work Text:
October 19, 2015
The dining table had turned into a messy showcase of textbooks, school supplies and loose sheets of notes that Sting was desperately trying to organize in search of that one paper he knew had to be in there somewhere. He shuffled some of the items around, only to swipe a binder off the edge of the table by accident, and as it dropped to the floor, most of its loose contents fell out.
"Shit…" he cursed beneath his breath, quickly rising from his seat to pick up all the papers that had scattered across the floor, and lo and behold, the one he'd been searching for was among them. His face lit up in relief as he picked it up last, putting it on top of the stack in his hands and rising up again to continue his studies.
"There you a-Ouch!"
In his rush he'd forgotten that the trail of papers had led him underneath the table, and bumped his head as he got up. With a wince he rubbed at the sore spot, messing up his hair in the process. He sat back down at the table and bent over his lost and found paper, a diagram of the human skeleton that had all the bones named. He studied it carefully, reading through the notes he had made on the back of the paper over and over, trying to burn the parts that were highlighted in neon pink into his memory.
So many medical terms were swarming through Sting's head that he was having trouble telling them apart, he was mixing them up when he tested himself. He let out a deep sigh and looked at the clock. It was starting to get late, Rogue had gone to take a shower and go to bed half an hour ago, and Sting would've loved to follow him, but he still had a lot of studying to do. He decided to take a quick break, grabbed a snack and a can of coke. Hopefully, the caffeine would enable him to carry on just a little bit longer.
But after two more sessions of cramming and quizzing himself, he still hadn't gotten the information to stick. He was making the same mistakes repeatedly, his frustrations growing as his focus began wandering to different places.
How many hours of sleep he’d have left if he studied for another hour or two, the prospect of having to fight Rogue for the blankets and snuggle up in bed with him, what the weather was going to be like tomorrow and how he should dress for it, the leftovers from dinner that were sitting in the fridge for lunch the next day...
Sting rested his elbows on the table and leaned his forehead on his hands, as if he'd be able to absorb the words he was reading better when he blocked out a part of his surroundings. Of course it didn't work as well as he'd hoped to, everything he read just seemed to evaporate from his mind within a few seconds, leaving him groaning in frustration.
Suddenly, a hand was placed gently on his shoulder, sliding up to the back of his neck when he wasn’t startled by the unexpected touch.
“Come to bed,” Rogue murmured, tangling his fingers in Sting’s hair as he let them draw random patterns on his scalp.
“I can’t,” Sting whined. He lifted his head a little and let his hands fall flat onto the wooden surface of the table. “I have an anatomy test coming up in three days, I really need to study…”
“Three days? That means you have time left to study.”
“Yeah, but-”
“No buts.” Rogue bent down, wrapping his arms around Sting and putting his chin on his shoulder, “You’ve been studying hard all semester, and you’ve barely taken a break since you got home this afternoon. I know you got this.”
“But what if I don’t? This stuff is hard, Rogue, I don’t think I’m smart enough for thi- Ouch! Hey!”
Rogue flicked Sting’s ear, scoffing at the remark he hadn’t let him finish, “I’m not having it. Sure, you can be careless, ridiculously silly, and sometimes you tend to act before you think, but you’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for.”
Sting didn’t really know what to say to that. He knew that Rogue wasn’t one to dish out compliments simply to make him feel better, so whenever he did, he meant and fully believed in them. Trying to argue with him about it wouldn’t get him anywhere, but as much as Sting wanted to accept Rogue’s words of reassurance, his insecurities were still looming in the back of his mind.
“Alright, give me 15 minutes, I’m just going to read through these notes one last time and then I’ll go to bed,” he promised.
“Do you seriously think that’s going to stick? After you’ve been cramming all evening?”
And looking at the sheet that was filled from top to bottom with his chicken scratch handwriting, he knew Rogue had a point. It was hard enough just to make sense of it, let alone to store the information in his head, that was already feeling over full and ready to explode at any given moment.
“Come to bed with me,” Rogue insisted, knowing exactly what he was doing as he purred the words against the delicate patch of skin below Sting’s ear. A display of affection, a seduction, cold hard tactics, whatever the thought behind it was, it was definitely effective. "You can continue tomorrow, I'll quiz you if you want."
Sting smiled, leaning his head on top of Rogue's and inhaling the scent of his freshly washed hair. He sighed and got up, "Okay, I'm coming. Just let me put all this crap away."
"Leave it, I can take care of it tomorrow." Rogue tried to steer him towards the bedroom, his hands on Sting's hips as he pulled him along while walking backwards.
“But breakfast…” Sting tried to argue.
“I swear to God, Sting, one more but and I will smack yours and carry you to bed!”
“Sounds amazing!” Sting grinned, mischief spreading all over his face. He raised his index finger in front of Rogue’s face and opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, waiting just long enough to throw Rogue off track before he rattled, “
But
you gotta catch me first!”
He missed the swat of Rogue’s hand by a hair when he dashed away, making Rogue chase after him through the living room. With not much available space to run, they ended up circling around the couch, laughing and making diversions to lure the other in the opposite direction. But Sting was getting tired, and knowing it would only be a matter of time before Rogue would catch him, he gave one last attempt at a great escape. He jumped on the couch, trying to launch himself over the backrest, but his foot got stuck in the gap between the seats.
He wasn’t quick enough. Rogue tackled him and they ended up on the floor, still laughing. Sting tried to wrestle himself out of Rogue’s hold but gave up before he really started. He was pulled onto his feet and immediately received the promised smack on his butt, along with a victorious grin.
"I
totally
let you win," Sting said, rolling his eyes. It earned him another smack, and then he was lifted off the ground and hauled towards the bedroom.
“I’m...sure...you did,” Rogue grunted, voice strained from carrying Sting’s weight.
When they reached the bedroom he backed up against the door to push it open, speeding up his pace for the last few steps as the strength in his arms was giving out. Unceremoniously, he dropped Sting on the bed, let himself fall down next to him, and tried to catch his breath.
Sting immediately snuggled up against his side, thinking he should have done this sooner instead of stretching out his studying session to the point where all his efforts were in vain, and at that moment he realized that Rogue had spent their entire afternoon and evening, aside from dinner, all by himself. Unfortunately, it wasn't even the first time this had happened.
"Hey-" he brushed a thumb across Rogue's cheek, his gaze moving back and forth between his eyes and his lips, because he was dying to kiss them, 'I'm sorry I've been so busy lately, I'll promise to make it up to you this weekend. Maybe we can go out or something?"
"That sounds really nice, but I'm fine with watching movies in bed with you all day as well, you know." Rogue smiled and pulled him closer, "I was getting slightly worried that you found your textbooks more interesting than me…"
"I don't," Sting assured him, catching his lips in a slow kiss, "I promise."
"I'm just messing with you," he chuckled, "I know how important your studies are, but I was getting worried you were pushing yourself too hard. And I guess I do miss us spending time together as much as we used to before you started med school."
Although he had phrased it subtly, Sting didn't take it lightly. Rogue had been lonely for a long time already, he didn't want him to feel that way even when they were together. He would still have to study a lot for a few years, but Rogue was right, he should plan more short breaks in between. Go on walks together to get some fresh air, watch tv or play a game for a while, get a snack. And since Rogue had proposed to quiz him, he was definitely going to hold him to that offer and incorporate him into his studying sessions until he'd bore him to tears.
He could hit two birds with one stone: spend some time with his boyfriend and refresh his mind for a bit. Surely the subject matter would stick a lot better if he didn't try to fry his brain, why didn't he think of that before?
"You're a genius," Sting smiled widely. He ignored the look of total confusion on Rogue's face and continued trailing kisses on his skin.
"Huh? What did I do?" Rogue puzzled, unsure if he should focus on the conversation or the sudden onslaught of affection he was subjected to.
"You keep me from going mental, that's what."
"I'm pretty sure it goes the other way around," he mumbled, slowly losing the capability to divide his attention.
"Actually, I think it goes both ways," Sting shrugged happily. "So, you think you can help me do some more studying? It's anatomy after all." He quirked an eyebrow and smirked suggestively.
"You're awful," Rogue sighed, his confusion finally gone and replaced by a responsive smile.
"Oh come on! I know what you were up to!" Sting copied his behavior and words from earlier in the most exaggerated manner, adding a few he never even said, "Come to bed with me, I want you so badly..."
"That's not what I said!" Rogue protested, laughing through his embarrassment and launching a poking attack on Sting's ribs.
It wasn't before long until their giggles dissolved into kisses, tickling abandoned for more passionate touches. It was past a reasonable bedtime already, so Sting might regret it when he'd have to wake up early again in the morning, but then again, he probably wouldn't. And he didn't see why he should wait until the weekend to make up for his neglect if he could show Rogue that he still meant the world to him right now.