Work Text:
With storm clouds hanging heavy in the sky there was no way to tell the time. It was the storm that woke him anyway, Madara finding himself alone under the blankets, blinking blearily around himself while he tried to process why that was wrong.
It was passed dark. No light filtering in through the thankfully shut window, only the barest hint of candlelight coming from somewhere other than the bedroom. Right. Passed bedtime.
He heaved himself out of the futon with much grumbling, which only doubled when his feet found the cold wood of the hall. It was muscle memory more than anything else that brought him to Ryouji’s home office, Madara leaning in the open doorway, squinting to make out the shape of his husband still busy scratching away at his work.
So much for ‘I’ll come to bed in a minute’.
With a rather put-upon sigh Madara went over to fetch the man himself, plopping down behind him to nuzzle into his back. “It’s bedtime, not work time.”
“I’m almost finished.”
Madara peeked around the man’s side to glare at the stacked shapes of paperwork, huffing at that bold faced lie. “You can finish tomorrow. Sleep.”
When that got him nowhere, Madara harrumphed, getting up just enough to plant himself in the man’s lap instead. It was possibly playing dirty to kiss the sense into him but Madara never said he played fair, making sure to cover every inch he could before pressing their lips softly together - then pulling just a breath away to whisper to him, a hand caressing his cheek, his eyes far softer than anyone else would ever see them, “Come to bed, love.”
It was a promise of soft moments, something he’d learned over the years that Ryouji rarely could resist. And he couldn’t then, his work finally put away for the night, their fingers laced together as they both finally went to tangle themselves together for the night, listening to the storm rage on outside as they whispered to each other in the calm dark of their bedroom.