Work Text:
Ainosuke forces his eyes open, his desire for a cigarette stronger than his desire for sleep even though his skin is damp with sweat and he’s still trying to catch his breath. He grabs his cigarette case off the nightstand and then pulls a drawer open as he blindly fumbles for a lighter.
Where is the damn thing?
"Tadashi."
Silence.
“Tadashi. ”
The man in bed next to him doesn't respond, and Ainosuke turns with a brief prickle of irritation that quickly melts away. Tadashi’s eyes are closed, his chest rising and falling in the slow rhythm of a man who is deeply asleep. He looks relaxed, sprawled on his back, one arm thrown up over his head. His pale skin illuminated by the warm glow of the bedside lamp. Lashes dark against his pale cheek.
The corner of Ainosuke’s mouth turns up in a smug grin. He better be tired after all that.
As Ainosuke finally finds what he’s looking for and lights his cigarette, It occurs to him that he's never actually seen Tadashi sleep before.
For as long as Tadashi’s been his assistant, he’s been awake before him, gliding into his room promptly at six with hot coffee and a firm but gentle tone.
“Ainosuke-sama, it’s time to get up.”
He’s the last to bed too. Staying with Ainosuke late into the night whether it’s work or S, not retiring until Ainosuke dismisses him. That has changed recently as their relationship has become more… intimate. Now he usually falls asleep to the sound of Tadashi running a bath or typing a few final notes on his laptop.
Ainosuke smiles, turning to blow smoke out the open window. Tadashi takes such good care of him. He'd always seen it as his due. What he’s owed as his employer. It's only recently he's seen it for what it is. Devotion. Care. Something even deeper that he’s still hesitant to put a name to.
Ainosuke takes another drag of his cigarette, taking it all in.
There's a small bruise blossoming where Tadashi’s neck and shoulder meet. A mark carefully placed where it will be covered by the collar of his shirt.
Ainosuke brushes Tadashi’s hair back off of his forehead. It’s a tangled mess, which is absolutely Ainosuke’s fault because he can’t resist running his hands through it, wrapping it around his fingers.
Tadashi unconsciously leans into the touch, lips parting in a soft sigh.
Ainosuke feels a twitch of lust that he's too tired to do anything about, though he is tempted to wake him. Instead, he presses his lips to Tadashi's temple, puts the cigarette out, and settles back into the pillows.