Work Text:
Whenever Guanheng gets asked typical interview questions like, “What’s your favourite time of the day, and why?” People usually expect the answer to come as something like, “Night-time, because that’s when I finally get to relax, do what I enjoy doing, and rest.” So, it comes as obvious surprise to the host when Guanheng replies without much hesitation,
“Mornings.”
Oh? That’s interesting! Why?
“Um... just because .”
Then Guanheng laughs, as an indication for the host to move on, because neither does he wish to elaborate, nor is the world prepared for the answer he has to give. Not just yet. Thankfully, the host does pick up on the hint to move on to the next member, and Guanheng appreciates her for that. His mind lingers on the question for a tad bit longer, though, and he fiddles with the blunt nails of his thumbs as a distraction technique. But the urge to turn to his side only grows stronger, so Guanheng eventually gives in to sneak a hasty glance at Dejun who’s seated to the opposite end, and fights to resist the wide smile threatening to lift the corners of his lips when he notices the faintest blush on the tips of Dejun’s ears, his nose.
Because mornings with Dejun , to be more specific, are Guanheng’s favourite times.
And it’s hard to give a reason why. Because it’s pretty much self-explanatory, Guanheng thinks.
Sometimes, mornings with Dejun are rushed . These are when they’ve got a packed day of schedules ahead. Dejun had been the fixed dorm-alarm-clock since back then, and nothing changed even when they separated dorms. Only, it meant that Guanheng now had a personal alarm clock to himself. It meant that Dejun could spend extra time waking Guanheng up, because he now only had one member to account for.
Ironically, it also meant that Dejun now spent a much longer time getting said one member to wake up.
Now, for some odd reason whatsoever, the previously-a-hundred-percent-foolproof “time to wake up!” and violent shoulder-shrugging no longer seemed to work. Finally, Dejun figured out after too many darned times of trial-and-error, that the only way to get Guanheng to wake up was to crawl into his lap, take his puffy cheeks into his hands and squeeze them as he pressed light kisses all over Guanheng’s sleeping face, his ears, his neck…
Like an unsaid rule, Guanheng would only stir on the ninth kiss, always.
With a sleepy smile on his face, and love in his eyes.
(Even then, Guanheng wouldn’t get up immediately. He’d wrap his arms about Dejun’s torso – just… needy koala bear things – and bury his still sleep-warmed face to Dejun’s neck, lamenting: “Can’t we just stay like this forever?”)
Sometimes, mornings with Dejun are filled with time . All the time in the world.
Guanheng would wake up to stray noise from the kitchen and a sweet aroma which made his tummy tingle. And Dejun, gone from the bed.
Tip-toeing oh-so-softly, Guanheng would make his way to the kitchen, where he’d be greeted with Dejun’s back to the entrance, and their dorm-auntie’s favourite floral-pink apron laced around his waist. He’d wrap his arms around Dejun’s waist then, relish in the quick tensing of muscles and the little surprised “ oh! ’, every single time, before Dejun would relax in Guanheng’s hold, pretty hands covered in milky soap suds where he’d wash them off gently, smiling , saying,
“You’re up just in time. I made us breakfast.”
But Guanheng’s favorite mornings by far, are ones like these .
Rare ones where Guanheng wakes up to warm sun on his face, filtered light in his eyes. He blinks a few times and rolls over to his side. Here, he sees that Dejun’s still fast asleep, curled up into a tiny ball with his fists to his chest. On any normal day, Guanheng would never be the first to stir. Simply impossible. But today, it’s because Dejun was probably so thoroughly spent by… whatever the both of them had been up to yesterday, deep into the quiet of night. Before memories come flooding back all over again and his cheeks get even hotter than they already are, Guanheng smiles and shakes his head, gently slapping at his own face, before opting to rest his palm gently on Dejun’s face, sighing.
Here, Guanheng watches , with breath caught in his chest and his heart in his mouth, beating, faster. Dejun is a picture of serene beauty, is all. It takes a lot to admit, but he takes Guanheng’s breath away every damn time, and Guanheng sees him every single day. The way Guanheng shakily sighs in awe is not cool. But it’s understandable , right?
Of course it is. Guanheng’s (and all of them, frankly, whether they’d admit it or not) already obsessed with Dejun’s lashes, but seeing them fanned out across his cheeks, fluttering just so with every cautioned breath Guanheng takes, makes Guanheng’s tummy twist, his skin tickle with an unexplainable sense of… happiness . It’s simple like that. Dejun’s cheeks are still rosy, color not yet drained fully from last night , and his lips, parted so his two front teeth peek out adorably. Guanheng would love for time to stretch on forever like this, but soon Dejun stirs, with the warm thumb rubbing unknowing circles to his cheek. Blinks, one, two times, squints as he tries to adjust to the haze in his eyes and
before Dejun even parts his lips to say a word, Guanheng presses his mouth close, all smiles against his skin.