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Valdo hunches over his desk, fine, frizzy tendrils of hair falling out of his loose braid. He underlines the line once, muttering it under his breath to memorize before circling it and saying it out loud.
It’s a murmur is accompaniment to Jaskier’s snores. Valdo hums in thought before crossing out a note; it’s not on the test, he doesn’t think. He makes sure to vaguely remember it anyway. Jaskier shifts, and Valdo adjusts them.
His lover’s straddled on his lap, lax with heavy sleep. Valdo grips him closer to his chest, one arm wrapped across Jaskier’s back to keep him to him. Another erases the note he just crossed out.
“Mm, -ald, v—” Fuck, shoulders are killing him. No shame in taking a break, right? He buries his nose into Jaskier’s hair, scenting the coconut he slathers it in the night before he washes it.
“I’m right here, darling,” Valdo whispers. Jaskier seems to calm down, face smoothing out as he sleeps back into deep sleep. He trusts him so much, trusts Valdo not to drop him, trusts him not to let him fall or let him go. Valdo leans back, and Jaskier falls forward onto his chest. He drools away at the shoulder of Valdo’s chemise. His poor love must be so exhausted, his own finals having ended yesterday. Valdo’d known as soon as he’d see the manic flush on Jaskier’s face; the crash would be all-encompassing. He’d had to carry his darling back to their room after the competition.
Now, Valdo presses a kiss to his temple and sets his eyes back on the notes. One arm’s still slung across Jaskier’s back to keep his crumpled and loose form from falling off him, and the other, smeared with charcoal, rubs down his lover’s side. Jaskier makes a sound somewhere between a snort and a snuffle. Valdo’s learnt over the years that it’s an approving, appreciative sound. It’s adorable, doubly so when Jaskier denies making it once he’s awake.
“I’ve gotta get back to it,” he murmurs, and Jaskier makes a wounded little wheeze-snort when he moves to grab the stick of charcoal again. “I’ll be here when you wake, darling, I’ll have this done by then and I’ll be yours.” Valdo pats his lover’s shoulder with the arm that supports him and Jaskier wiggles slightly before his jaw falls open and the loudest snore Valdo’s ever heard escapes him. Laughter is difficult to contain but he manages it.
He trains his eyes on his page of notes again, memorizing the concepts in front of him. Jaskier sleeps deeply against Valdo’s chest, secure.