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Bouts of insomnia weren't uncommon for Fukuchi. It was an unfortunate habit he'd picked up from the war. It had some use then, always alert anticipating the next assault. Now, in his mostly normal life, it was an annoying inconvenience.
He'd woken up maybe an hour ago. It was still dark out and the last time he'd check the clock it was about 4:57 am. He had tried to fall back asleep between then and now but his efforts proved useless. always teetering on the edge of sleep but not taking the plunge. It wasn't that he didn't want to, just a matter of sheer refusal from his body.
He had thought about filling the time with something to keep his sanity. Maybe go on a walk, fix a creaky chair, something. But, those ideas were squished when he took a glance at his side. Fukuzawa was a light sleeper and he knew that if he woke up, then Fukuzawa would follow. Plus, he looked so peaceful under the thick blanket they shared. He’d feel guilty if he disrupted it now. It wasn't his fault he was like this, he was just unfortunate to share a living space with him. So, against his better judgment, he stayed in bed for an hour.
He reluctantly glanced at the clock on his side, hoping that time would prove merciful. The digital clock showed 5:10 am, straining his eyes slightly. He’d have to get ready soon and he was glad for it. He didn't have to stay rotting in his own tiredness. He sat up, stealthily trying to slip out of bed in order to not wake the man next to him. It worked, a twitch of his face being the only sign that it affected him.
Fukuchi made his way to the bathroom to get ready for the day. He went through the motions, brushing his teeth, washing his face, anything to get him more awake. He eventually made his way out and into the kitchen. He figured that Fukuzawa would wake up soon, so he was set on making breakfast for the both of them. He found some simple enjoyment out of cooking. It was a simple privilege he didnt take for granted. He put on a kettle, then the coffee pot. Tea for Fukuzawa, coffee for him.
Once he got the pan out, Fukuzawa emerged from the bedroom. He stopped in the doorframe, leaning on it slightly and taking in the sight before him. He was still a little tired having just woken up.
Fukuchi glanced and sent him a smile, “morning, you.”
Fukuzawa let out a hum. He went into the kitchen, seeing what Fukuchi was making, then going to slot himself behind him. His arms went around Fukuchi's waist, interlocking at his stomach. He rested his head at the nape of his neck, closing his eyes. “You're up early.” he commented, voice still groggy, deep.
“It’s not that early,” he cracked an egg in the pan, “maybe you just slept in.”
Fukuzawa grumbled. He wouldn’t mind sleeping late with Fukuchi. He barely gets to anyways. He tightened his hold and shifted his head to his shoulder. “How’d you sleep?”
Fukuchi shrugged at that. “Better than other nights.”
Fukuzawa looked at him, debating on whether to push for a clearer answer. He decided against it. It was too early to dig in his brain. He just went back to rest his head on his shoulder, leaning on him a little more.
Fukuchi felt the push and chuckled as he adjusted to Fukuzawa’s weight, trying not to burn himself. It wasn't that difficult. It was rare that Fukuzawa was this touchy. He wasn't a huge fan of touch, except for fukuchi’s. Maybe he just got used to it.
He looked at the kettle, small steam rising from the tip. “Your tea is almost ready, you might want to get it.”
“Mhm,” Fukuzawa nuzzled into him, “i’ll get it in a minute.”
“It’s gonna overflow, Yuki.” Fukuchi warned him, plating their breakfast.
“It won’t.” He moved slightly, responding to Fukuchi's movements.
Fukuchi put the pan back on the stove and turned to face Fukuzawa, his arms loosely hanging around his waist. Fukuzawa leaned back to give him some wiggle room. He could see the tiredness in his eyes, eyebags already adding to his wrinkles.
He couldn't comment on it, Fukuchi had beaten him to the punch. “What's got you so cuddly this morning?” he tightened his hold on him, pulling him a little closer.
Fukuzawa shrugged. “It's cold, you’re just warm.”
Fukuchi hummed at that. “Am I?” He smirked.
Fukuzawa let out a small ‘mhm’ before he leaned forward. Their noses touched; they were sharing breaths. He could feel Fukuchi's eyes on him, anticipating the next action. His hands on his back clenched at his clothes, not letting him back out. He didn't have any intent to as he kissed him, softly. He could feel Fukuchi’s mustache tickle his upper lip and he flinched slightly at the feeling. He kissed him again, a little deeper. He shifted forward, pushing Fukuchi's body against the oven. Fukuchi let out a small grunt muffled by Fukuzawa's lips. He met Fukuzawa with resistance, pushing him slightly. His hands shifted to embrace him more, hands clenching at his clothes. He wanted to be close, impossibly close, and Fukuzawa met his enthusiasm. It was ridiculous how much they could rile each other up still.
Their moment was cut short when the kettle screeched. It startled both of them, Fukuzawa pulling back and turning off the heat, making sure it wouldn't overflow. There was a brief pause, both of them regaining their senses. Both of their faces were flushed.
Fukuchi laughed, and went to pull Fukuzawa closer. “You’re distracting me.”
Fukuzawa let out a small chuckle with him. “I should go get ready,” he gave Fukuchi a quick kiss, “I’ll be quick.”
He hummed. “Food’s not going anywhere.”
Fukuzawa left him, his hand dragging across his stomach as he left. And so the day started.