Work Text:
Something pulls at your headphones – like a finger hooking around the very top and pulling them up, off and away from your ears. Your head follows the movement, tilting back to find Nulla behind you, putting your headphones off to the side before looking at you. He smiles as you continue to gaze at him from this angle rather than turning around properly. Though the smile itself isn’t entirely…friendly, there’s a softness around the edges of his eyes that tells you he’s genuinely happy at the sight of you. He curls over the seat, always trying to get closer to you, and you feel the firm press of lips on your forehead.
“There you are, mi vida,” he says gently, his breath on your skin. It’s in his voice too – that bone deep joy.
It must be the unexpected sight of him, or the kiss to the forehead, or just him in general – but you feel off guard. Loosened and soft with a trembling heart, and a slight pressure building in your head.
“Where else would I be?” You joke, neither moving closer or further away. The words come out slow, syrupy and viscous. You blink at the sound of them, irked, but Nulla just huffs, amused as he rubs warm hands on your temples. You’re content to stay put as you are. A simple world, small and happy. Just the two of you.
And then, for no good reason at all, Nulla seems inclined to ruin this brief delusion of yours by answering your rhetorical question with two damning words: “In bed.”
Ah. That would explain the impending headache you feel at the base of your skull. You walked into that one. That one was completely on you. Screw him, honestly. The nerve of him to use his pretty face to catch you off guard like that. How evil, how cruel.
You make an unimpressed noise, already knowing where this is going. You face forward again, into the bright light of your monitor, and try to find where you left off on the document. You’re not staying up late for no reason. It’s not nice to feel this tired.
“Cariño,” he sings, right into your ear. You feel a shiver run down your spine and your lips pull into a thin, straight line. You continue trying to work, but this is made much, much harder as he rests his head on your shoulder and speaks some more. You feel the vibration of his voice running deep into your skin. “Do you know what time it is?”
You’re not stupid – one does not stay up until half past 1 without knowing they’ve managed to stay up until half past 1. But you are also not an amateur at these games, so you don’t say that.
“It’s still pretty early,” you reply, voice flat.
Nulla hums, amused. “It’s the next day, mi vida.”
“Pretty early into the next day.”
“I really don’t know what to do with you sometimes,” he says, sighing, fond and tender and melting into your shoulder, hair tickling your neck. “You would force me to sleep all alone? All cold and lonely? Is that what you’re saying to me?”
“I’m surprised you’re not already asleep.”
“I couldn’t sleep without you. I missed you very dearly in your absence from my side.”
“That sounds more like a you problem.”
You can feel him pouting into your neck. “You’re too harsh.”
Some part of you – tired, dumb and useless – decides to cave, tilting your head onto his and into the warmth. It’s not enough pressure to actually keep him there, but just enough to rest your head comfortably without holding it up much. There’s a muffled noise of surprise that comes from him, followed by a rumbling laughter.
“Come to bed with me, won’t you?” He asks, right into your throat, placing light kisses to…sweeten the deal, you presume.
You’re, admittedly, not paying much attention as your type a few more sentences onto the document. The angle makes it a little hard, but you’re reluctant to move. You squint your eyes – damn the writing software for not having a dark-mode.
After a moment, a displeased noise comes from beside you, and your head returns to an upright position as Nulla dislodges himself from your shoulder. A part of your brain – smarter, sharper, though slow due to your lack of sleep – gnaws at you anxiously as nothing happens for the next few seconds. Nulla is still behind you, you’re certain. And the screen is too damn bright to see his reflection in it.
Well, okay, there is also the rational decision of turning around to look at him, but you feel like you’re too deep into it to do that.
“You’re really something, you know,” he rumbles.
And that’s all the warning you get before he starts pulling at your chair.
“Nulla, Nulla– wait– wait– I need to finish this–” you quickly grip at your desk, the adrenaline spike waking you up fully. The wheels of your chair rattle between being pushed and pulled – the tips of your fingers go white with the pressure of your hold. “Nulla– love– please.”
“You can finish it tomorrow, cariño,” he says, mild and neutral, but you can hear the grin in his voice. Then he pulls harder, and your grip slips.
The chair is ripped from it’s original position, then swiftly spun around as Nulla bends down and takes you over his shoulder. You’re light-headed for a second as blood rushes down to your head. Your face nearly smashes into his back, but you manage to plant your hands down to stop that. “Nulla,” you scold uselessly.
“Ah, mi vida, you’ll never really know the joy I feel whenever you say my name,” he sighs, all dreamy and triumphant, like a prince who’s saved his princess. Except he’s holding his princess like a sack of potatoes so you’re not really sure where he’s getting the idea.
You swing your leg once, lightly, and kick him– oh, you don’t really know. Somewhere on the front of him – you can’t actually see. “Nulla, I’m serious. I need to finish that.”
“And you’ll finish it tomorrow,” he replies, sure of himself, like this is a fact. A future that will happen. “There’s nothing that has to be completed at 1:37am. Aside from sleep, that is.”
And he gently plops you down on the large bed, maneuvering you so he can tuck you into position. With some reluctance, you follow his movements, shuffling into your spot and letting him wrap the blanket around you.
“I didn’t even shut off my computer,” you mumble, sleep already starting to take you.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” he says, soft as he presses another kiss to your forehead. “Goodnight, cariño”
“Mn. G’night, Nulla.”
And you drift off into sleep.