Work Text:
Hiroaki leaned forward, squinting at the bright laptop screen in front of him, sitting on the coffee table. The digital clock on the corner of his screen shone 2:43 AM, yet the deadline Seiko sent him shone brighter, and even worse? For once in his life, he was actually tired. Exhausted even.
Of course, he could just ignore it until absolutely last minute like he normally did, but Seiko had been really laying down that she needed this done. She'd been asking all week. She honestly might kill him if she found out now that he blew it off. Oh, also because it was important or whatever.
So he's stuck here, nearly three in the morning. Stuck doing some dumb online work about shit he said probably pays Seiko to do herself, stuck resisting the urge to shut his eyes and pass out right here on Takeshi's couch.
Oh right, he was at Takeshi's. He almost forgot.
Every once in a while, him and the illustrator found a day or two when their busy schedules overlapped perfectly, and they both had freetime to just hang out and do whatever all day. In all honesty, it was mainly just Nakamigawa who was busy a lot of the time. He'd love nothing more than to ditch his responsibilities and hang out at Takeshi's whenever he pleased, but he fears Seiko might have his head.
He tool a sip from the long chilled coffee that sat on the table in front of him, cringing at the taste. In a way, it was almost refreshing. It kept him from face planting off the edge of the couch cushions and onto his keyboard. A bitter reminder of what would happen if he didn't finish this in time. Yet despite all this, the words still occasionally blurred, he let out a yawn. God, he hated this.
Nakamigawa heard rhe floor boards creak from behind him, he twisted and turned to find none other than Takeshi's sluggish form standing behind the couch, staring down at him in confusion and one of his thick blankets tugged over his shoulders.
"..Takeshi? What're you doing up?"
He croaked, throat dry from lack of use. He could've been louder for the sake of Takeshi hearing him better but that would've been rather cruel to everyone else in the house.
"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that, Nakamigawa? What're you still doing up?" The illustrator questioned him with an unamused expression, coming around the side of the couch and sitting on the arm, blanket draping behind him. Nakamigawa remained quiet, the silence speaking thousands. He and Takeshi both knew why he was up, the open laptop made it rather obvious. The designer turned back to the bright screen, hand finding itself back on the mousepad.
A brief silence took ahold of the atmosphere, soon replaced by the sound of Takeshi shuffling closer, barely even on the couches arm anymore, leaning closer to get a glimpse of whatever Nakamigawa was up to via his computer screen.
"What're you working on?" He asked, hushed, head knocking against Nakamigawa's as he leaned into his side.
Eventually, the brunette moved over, finally allowing the other to slot himself in the space between Nakamigawa and the couch, snuggling into his side like it was the most casual think in the world. for them it was, at least.
"..Something Seilo sent me. She uhhmm.."
Nakamigawa paused momentarily, attempting to recollect his thoughts.
"She said it's like- Something I needed to do myself, or whatever. I think she's just bullshitting, though." Nakamigawa practically mocked the woman, squinting at the glaring screen as the keys on his keyboard clacked under the weight of his fingers, Takeshi could almost feel the exhaustion radiating off of the other as his brain wracked around his skull.
Takeshi himself yawned, the hour weighing on him more and more. Maybe his yawn would infect Nakamigawa and convince him to finally come to bed, only a pipedream though.
"I think you should have a little more faith in her. She's probably doing this for a reason, y'know." The illustrator nudged him, trying to get the other to see reason.
"Maybe she just thinks it's funny to be a pain in my ass." The designer scowled.
"Maybe it's payback for you're own behavior." Ouch, Takeshi.
Nakamigawa fell deeper into his grief, leaving Takeshi clueless. This was too out of his element and too tired to give his lack of advice to Nakamigawa and his self-created problems. By that, he meant that he could almost guarantee that Seiko had informed him of this impossible assignment at least a week ago, but he fears the other would probably attack him if he brung it up. Right now, though? He was just tired.
He snapped from his daze as he felt Nakamigawa shift against him, watching the other lean forward to grab his laptop frpn the coffee table in front of them, Takeshi nudged his shoulder with his own.
"Gimme the remote." His voice barely raised above a whisper, pointing at the remote on the table, barely out of reach.
He barely caught it when Nakamigawa tossed it his way, Nakamigawa who was already leaning back into the couch with the laptop on his lap, sinking into the cushions.
Takeshi lowered the volume as he turned the TV on, cautious of his brothers who were still sleeping, like normal people. Takeshi could easily guess neither of them were going anywhere any time soon, so might as well get comfortable.
Leaning back into the couch, much mirroring the boy deside him, he turned to whatever was buzzing on the TV. Some cop show Toshiharu had left on from earlier in the day. Takeshi never really cared for stuff like that, but it's not like there's anything better on this late—Or early? He didn't know, and yet again, he was too tired to care.
Sure, he could just go to bed, but it felt weird not having Nakamigawa beside him at night. So he'd just have to suck it up.
It was about thirty minutes of Takeshi zoning in and out, occasionally looking over at Nakamigawa (Who made himself rather at home on Takeshi's shoulder) and his screen, before he'd noticed the clicking and tapping of his keys had gradually came to a stop.
He glanced down to find Nakamigawa's body slumped against his side, hands limp on the keyboard, obviously mid keyboard-stroke when he inevitably nodded off. It's not like Takeshi didn't expect the designer to crash at some point, he'd pulled what seemed like two all-nighters consecutively already this week. He knows Nakamigawa couldn't necessarily help it, but that doesn't make it any less worrying.
Takeshi nudged his shoulder against the other, startling him awake. Rather cruel of him, yes, he knows. But if Nakamigawa was going to pass out for the next twelve hours, he'd prefer he did it in the comfort of the bed rather than on the couch he swore he saw Tetsuya spill ranch on this morning. Takeshi also knew any attempt to carry Nakamigawa wouldn't work out very well either. It's not that he couldn't easily lift the brunette, rather that Nakamigawa would wake before he even made it to the hallway.
Nakamigawa groaned, pulling himself off of Takeshi's shoulder before rubbing his eyes, like it'd free himself from the exhaustion that plagued him.
"Shit-.. Sorry, 'Keshi.." Nakamigawa said through a yawn, hands finding their way back on the keyboard yet making no effort to continue working, instead tipping his head on the back of the couch, staring at the shadowed ceiling.
"...I'm sure Seiko wouldn't mind if you sent it in tomorrow."
Takeshi placed a hand on Nakamigawa's arm, rubbing his thumb over the space repetitively.
"Honestly, if she doesn't she might just hand to deal." Nakamigawa shut the laptop and leaned back into Takeshi's shoulder, the touch on his arm now replaced but the sensation of Nakamigawa's hand interlocking with Takeshi's. Yet in the middle of all their shuffling, the way Nakamigawa's laptop began to slip off his lap caught the illustrator's attention, quickly shooting forward to catch it and place it back on the coffee table with a sigh.
"I get you're tired and all, but you really need to be more aware of your surroundings." He leaned back into the couch for what felt like the millionth time, Nakamigawa finding his way back onto his shoulder in record time.
"You're one to talk, y'know."
Nakamigawa corrected him, Takeshi being able to guess the look on the other's face without even needing to glance down at him.
"Shut up and go to sleep already, i'm tired of you." He spoke through a laugh, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Moving to tuck the blanket around both him and Nakamigawa, he decided that it wouldn't kill them to sleep on the couch one. So much for getting Nakamigawa to move, I guess.
"Well, lay down first! Are you seriously expecting me to sleep sitting up? That's inhumane, Takeshi." Nakamigawa whined, pushing the illustrator to lay down sideways, draping himself over Takeshi's chest upon laying down.
He wrapped his arms around the others torso, hooking a leg over Takeshi's as he snuggled deeper into the crook of his neck.
With a sigh, Takeshi accepted his fate and shifted around. Moving to at least get more comfortable, even though it wasn't really half bad with Nakamigawa with him. A hand moved to rest on the designers back, the other entangling itself in his brunette hair.
Takeshi made a mental note of how soft his hair actually was; Not like that was unusual at all though. Nakamigawa always prided himself on his hygiene, hair being absolutely no exception. Just another thing he loved about the other, there were already too many reasons to count truly.
Takeshi leaned his head back on the couch cushion and glared up at the ceiling, he was obviously tired but for some reason he couldn't find it in himself to shut his eyes just yet. But a soft voice broke him from his reverie, he glanced down to find the source to be none other than Nakamigawa, feeling his voice vibrate off his chest.
"..How've you been? We haven't seen eachother much lately 'cuz of work, and all."
"..I've like.. missed you, 'nd stuff."
Takeshi's heart warmed a little bit hearing that, hand moving to rub whatever patterns into the small of Nakamigawa's back. It was really just something to keep himself busy, yet the way Nakamigawa melted into the touch only motivated him further.
It was always nice to know Nakamigawa cared like that. Well- Of course Nakamigawa cared. Takeshi knew good and well Nakamigawa cared. He cares too much about literally everything and anything, especially when it came to Takeshi. It was just nice.
Nice to just sit and talk. Nice to sit around and catch up when they couldn't be together, update eachother on what they'd both missed and what was going on. It brung a different sense of mundaneness that Takeshi didn't know he was missing.
"Y'know, same old..- Actually, I went to the mall with Toshiharu yesterday. Like, to get out the house more like you've been telling me. So I picked out some new art stuff while I was there, I think you'd like some of what I got. I'll have to show you later."
Takeshi's hand never stopped the way it traced miscellaneous shapes into the others back as he rambled. Usually it was Nakamigawa who droned on about what seemed like nothing half of the time, but he seemed very intent on listening to both Takeshi's voice and heartbeat as of right now, breath soft against the illustrators neck.
"But uhm.. What about you? I'm sure you've got a lot going on, too, being you and all."
Takeshi waited for a reply, yet one never came, hands pausing at the occurrence.
"Nakamigawa?" His voice rung out softly, the hand stuck in the others hair now gently twirling a lock around his fingers.
Takeshi craned his neck to look down at the other, now finding himself in a similar predicament as earlier. Nakamigawa with his eyes finding themselves shut, breath soft against the others neck, evening itself out over time.
The illustrator sighed fondly, head falling back, eyes shutting with the designers. Takeshi wasn't really surprised, what he was surprised about is that it took Nakamigawa this long to crash. He'd toughed it out this long, he deserved to get some sleep more than anything, and Takeshi had no problem with that.
"Goodnight, Nakamigawa." He muttered, knowing the other in question was long gone into unconsciousness yet it still felt comforting to say aloud.
It didn't take long for Takeshi to begin nodding off either, the lack of sleep and brain fog catching up to him as well, sleep eating away at his consciousness. The TV blaring in the background long forgotten, along with the remote discarded on the floor after being dropped god knows when.
Usually, one of them would be all-too-self-conscious over being seen all affectionate and all over eachother, given they were both rather new to dating and stuff, (or genuine dating, in Nakamigawa's case.) but that didn't necessarily matter right now.
The state anyone found them in come morning wasn't their problem right now, it honestly felt kind of nice to be all lovey-dovery anyways.