Work Text:
"What are you doing?"
Satoru fell on the bed with his chin touching the mattress, that long body of his sprawled out, like a discarded puppet thrown aimlessly into the air without a thought. A crease between his eyebrows and a frown painted on his lips, he was clearly bored out his mind.
Long thick lashes blinked heavily, rich vessels of icy blue stared at nothing in particular as Satoru Gojou impatiently waited for a reply.
When he didn't get any the young man pinched his eyes shut and buried his face into the soft, cool surface of the bed, and groaned (in all likelihood one that was longer than necessary).
"Suguruuu . . ." was the exact name that came out of his mouth, voice muffled by the mattress. But Suguru Getou remained unfazed as his finger flicked another page from the book he was obviously reading.
"Yes, Satoru?" His eyes never moved.
"What are you doing?"
"For somebody with the Six Eyes is it that hard to notice that I'm reading?"
Upon hearing the jab Satoru snatched the nearest pillow (more or less looking like a cat jumping out of its skin from the inhuman speed).
"You—" he swung, "—dickhead!" He aimed it to directly hit Suguru in the face.
But Suguru dodged the incoming attack, one might say quite effortlessly.
This was nothing, having your peaceful reading session shattered by your partner was nothing, he'd handled worse.
The look on Satoru's face reminded Suguru of a child acting up for not giving them what they want.
Attention.
Suguru unintentionally smiled, nothing revealing of the sort just the tiniest quirk at the corner of his lips. Safe to say, he was amused, undeniably so.
But it never mattered whether his lips stretched into a grin or it was meant to be hidden—Satoru would see everything.
He pulled back with a sneer, (the entirety of his movements almost catlike), "What are 𝘺𝘰𝘶 laughing at?"
"Your childish antics what else."
A second attempt was made to hit Suguru with the same pillow but it was to no avail.
Sighing dramatically, Satoru made himself comfortable right beside his dark haired friend, this time lying on his back with his arms spread open—and Suguru stayed unbothered.
This was normal.
Their endless banters, sharp edgy comebacks, all of these had become a part of their lives throughout the years knowing each other.
Suguru moved on to another page, "Have you ever thought of begging for someone else's attention?"
"𝘉𝘦𝘨?" Satoru scoffed, the word tasted bitter (and somewhat foreign) on his tongue, "jokes on you but I don't 𝘣𝘦𝘨," he continued to flaunt weird gestures with his hands in the air.
"Go mess with Shoko."
"See, I literally just did that on my way here."
"Fine, go bother Nanami."
"No can do he's out with Haibara."
"Okay then go to the Princi—"
𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘢𝘪𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘢.
That snagged his once unwavering attention: "Nanami's out with Haibara?"
Satoru merely hummed in response, busying himself with his nails as if without care in the world.
"What, like a," Suguru's book closed with a soft 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘥, "like a 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦?"
He clicked his tongue, still focused on whatever it was going on with his goddamned nails, "I have no idea 𝘢𝘯𝘥 I cannot find myself to care."
Suguru had no answer to that, he found himself deep in thought as he recalled his past conversation with You Haibara which took place just yesterday.
Something about how to ask somebody to go on a date.
Within seconds the thoughts were robbed off of him as exhaustion began to wash over, fatigue pulling on his muscles making them taut, his face stretched into a yawn and Suguru leaned over to the right sight of the bed where he pulled open a drawer and slipped the book inside.
Oblivious to the fact that he was being watched the whole time.
His back was about to sink in the comforts of the bed again when a familiar cold touch bloomed on his left cheek. Those long nimble fingers caressed his face carefully (as if there meaning to them), before slowly weaving through his hair and tug some of the dark locks behind his ear.
Satoru had his eyes on Suguru, taking in the touch beneath his fingertips (cold met with warm), the silkiness of his ebony black hair—and Suguru couldn't take his eyes off Satoru. Drowning in the sight of him, drunk on the icicle blues of his eyes, the tufts of his pale white hair would never fail to remind him of snow.
Cocking his head to the side, the words trailed after his lips held more emotion than Suguru thought he was capable of.
"You should sleep now."
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶?
𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘵𝘰𝘰?
Suguru hated for not knowing.
They snuggled close to each other, sleep overtaking him on every passing second.
But in all honesty, Suguru would never consider the moments spent around his partner a waste of time.
The feelings would never wither to regret.
Satoru pressed a kiss on his cheek and Suguru gave in to the heavy drought of sleep hovering above his consciousness.
But when it came to sleeping, it was never the same for Satoru.