Archive of Our Own ^beta

Deep purple eyes with a dark red barrier bleeding into them, somehow sharp and soft at the same time, and looking too long into them would leave you entranced. Light bags hung under his eyes; they weren't very noticeable at first glance, but OJ has spent lots of time studying Paper's features. Paper hated his eyes. He didn't think about them much, but when he saw them in the mirror, or caught someone staring for too long, he'd look away and try to hide them.

Right now though, Paper's face was tucked deep into OJ's neck. His arms were tight around OJ as they embraced each other on the soft mattress of the latter's bed. OJ rubbed circles on his back and rocked him a little, rubbing his hand up and down his back or quietly shushing him, whispering gentle words of kindness into his ear everytime Paper let out a sob. They sat in the dark, as it was almost 12 at night, and Paper eventually passed out in OJ's arms.

That happened sometimes when Paper was feeling bad and knew OJ was still awake. They'd sit in OJ's room and talk about what was wrong, both of them (cause Paper wouldn't speak until OJ made it fair by expressing his own hidden problems), while cuddling or sitting in the room. It was usually late at night, and most times Paper would thank him and leave to go sleep in his own room, or OJ would take him to his bed if he fell asleep. This night though, Paper wasn't the only one who couldn't stay awake.

Paper woke up many hours later, around sunrise. He instantly realized that this wasn't his bed —or maybe his bed just decided to smell like citrus?— and opened his eyes, only to be met by a sleeping OJ. OJ's arms were tightly wrapped around Paper as Paper's were tightly wrapped around OJ, and their legs were half tangled with each others. Paper felt his face heat up and his stomach sparked, twisting and turning.

"Oh wow,..." he mumbled out, studying OJ's features. This is the closest he's ever been to his face, after all. He had golden brown skin that completely contrasted to Paper's pale, white skin. He had a light scar under his left eye, and dark eye bags. He really does overwork himself, doesnt he? Paper was glad he was still in bed. Usually OJ would be up and about working on hotel stuff, but he seriously needed this rest. Paper hesitantly shoveled his face into OJ's chest, and shuffled slightly closer to him, lightly squeezing his arms around his body.

OJ woke up a while later, around late 11AM, to a warmth on his chest and fluff in his face. He didn't feel like opening his eyes, and felt around for what it was with his hands. He felt the warmth of skin being shielded by cloth as he moved his hands up and down the back of Paper. Prying his eyes open, he slowly realized who was there, gasping slightly.

Paper's head was buried in OJ's shirt and his fluffy, short white hair was suffocating his nostrils. It smelt strongly of gardenias and was super soft. OJ let a smile crack on his lips and started pulling away from Paper, knowing he had work to do. Paper must've felt it, cause his eyes hesitantly blinked open and then met OJ's. He sucked in a breath, there are those eyes again...jeez. they really are beautiful.

OJ adored his eyes for a second, watching as his pupils grew as he focused on OJ, the red on the outside shrinking and a brighter purple sprouting out the pupil. OJ's eyes sparked in their natural amber ways, bright orange shining in the sunlight. Paper's mouth hung slightly open in awe. OJ nervously laughed, rubbing his hand up and down Paper's back, gently. "Morning."

Paper's eyes became heavy as he stared at OJ, trying to keep them open. Internally, he was freaking out. He nervously tried to think of a response, not wanting to leave OJ hanging. "Morning,.." Paper stopped and yawned, tearing up a bit and closing his eyes, "..Sunshine.." he laid his head back down onto OJ, who's face instantly started heating up. He stayed quiet for a moment, before coming back to his senses. "Hey—hey, wait, Paper no, I've gotta get up and start working on hotel stuff." He giggled a bit, taking his arms from Paper and attempting to push him off.

Paper held tighter onto him, keeping him in bed. "Noo...you can't. You need a break day." He pulled OJ's face towards his, putting their foreheads together. OJ stared at Paper, laughing at the weird view their faces were in. "C'mon, Paper, you know we have jobs to do. We can't lay in bed all day. People might start to wonder where we are.." OJ thought about it, face heating up at the thought of another object catching him being this intimate with Paper. He intertwined his legs with OJ's, trying to keep himself as close as he could be. "No they wont, they dont need you bossing them around, we can get up later..." he snaked his arm up and wrapped it on OJ's shoulder and around his neck.

"God, Paper. Don't do this to me while I'm trying to wake up.." He mumbled, looking away as a stray smile slithered onto his face. Paper's heart jumped a bit, feeling OJ melt in his arms. "...do what?" OJ hesitated, before giggling a bit more. "You just...god, you just make me so soft, Paper." He whispered, embarrassed.

He tried to hide his face in Paper's neck, feeling it heat up again. It felt like his stomach was boiling and all the steam was collecting in his chest. Paper snorted and then laughed lightly, holding OJ close to him.

OJ knew he and Paper needed to get up. The hotel needed work done, and the residents needed to be contained. OJ ruffled a hand through Paper's hair, playing with it subconsciously. Soap could take care of Hotel duty's for, and maybe the same with Pickle if he was feeling up to it, but sooner or later they'd need to get up and keep everything under control. OJ sighed, meeting Paper's eyes, which blinked for a little too long.

"Alright, we can stay in bed for a little longer," Paper brightened, smiling a bit as he relaxed fully in OJ's arms. Without a thought of regret, using the hand previously in his hair, OJ pulled Paper's head closer and rubbed their noses together. He planted a gentle kiss on his lips and pulled away, smiling playfully at him. "But only for a little! We better both be up and moving by the next hour." He giggled. Paper stared wide eyed at him for a second, before blinking as all his blood rushed to his face.

Paper smiled brightly, hugging him a little too tight for comfort. OJ's smile dropped as he back tracked and realized what he did, face heating up. "Oh god—did-did you like that? Should—" he stammered, before Paper kissed him this time, pulling his left hand up to hold the side of his face.

Without either of them noticing, there was knock on the door. "Hey, OJ, are you awake?" Pickle's voice rang, the sound of the door opening followed. His eyes trailed around the room, "Paper wasn't in his room and I was wondering—..." He stopped, eyes on the two. He went beet red as he realized the situation, looking back and forth from the two as they were caught red handed. "....holy SHIT. I need to find Knife. God damnit." He muttered, pulling out his wallet before firmly closing the door of the room.