Work Text:
Their bed is way too cold for Cheongsan’s liking. Empty except for him, too, and therein lies the problem – no matter how tightly he wraps himself in their thick comforter, it’s no use. The stupid thing is too fluffy and soft. Cotton sleek around Cheongsan. Plump pillows he can burrow his face in, breathing deep to catch Gwinam’s scent…
So what, if Cheongsan drags the pillow on Gwinam’s half of the bed closer to the middle, just so he can nuzzle his face deep into it. Hide there. Breathe there, for a spell, before it gets too suffocating and he has to come up for oxygen.
He’s been rolling around restless for who knows how long, now, and this is barely helping. Washes him comfortingly warm for a heartbeat – but there’s no body heat. No shape of another person anywhere nearby that Cheongsan can sink into. Just this comforter. He rolls again, willing it to be enough even though the constriction is all wrong and he has to undo it. Huffing a frustrated sigh.
It really isn’t any fucking fair, how impossible it is to fall asleep when Gwinam isn’t home.
Truly, genuinely, this is the last problem Cheongsan ever expected to encounter, when their relationship started. When they moved in together and started sharing a bed on the regular for more than just sex. Though, the root of this can be traced back to even before that, if Cheongsan’s being honest –
Because even as fuck buddies, after that very first night Gwinam fell asleep sprawled atop Cheongsan, he was screwed. It’s been hard to sleep without him ever since. Not impossible. Manageable, most of the time, and Cheongsan will drift off eventually, because he’s mastered the art of wearing himself out as thoroughly as possible when Gwinam’s got overnight jobs, or works the late shift, or worst of all: when he has to travel for extended periods of time for lengthy, far-away construction gigs.
Whatever the reason, Cheongsan can and will sleep alone.
…Some nights are worse than others.
Tonight sure seems to be one of the worst ones that Cheongsan’s had in a while. Probably because Gwinam hasn’t been away all year; for a good handful of months, now, he’s been home every night. In bed with Cheongsan. Even if some were later nights than others, he’d come slipping under the covers at some point. Never could resist wrapping thorough around Cheongsan. Possessive bastard.
Ugh – Cheongsan shifts positions again. Curls on his side while dragging Gwinam’s pillow into his chest. Too squishy to be of any proper comfort, but maybe if he clings tight enough while burying his head beneath his own pillow – throwing the covers overtop –
Fuck’s sake. It’s stuffy as all hell, under here. Cheongsan pokes his face out, glaring at the alarm clock on his side of the bed. Kept there exclusively so Gwinam can stretch across Cheongsan and turn it off. Because Cheongsan knows that asshole has no problem using his phone as an alarm. He just likes to be a pest. Make a nuisance of himself…
The thought of phones has Cheongsan reaching over to nudge his own off of the wireless charger. He really needs to stop leaving it there all night. The battery drains fast enough as it is, and he’s trying to hold off getting a new one for as long as possible. Gwinam broke his beyond repair (again) just last month and their bill is high enough already, but even though he’s paying an arm and a leg for the service, Cheongsan should absolutely not unlock his phone and mindlessly scroll all night – shouldn’t boot up Netflix, either – or anything else.
He needs to sleep. Flicks mindlessly between apps on his phone. Stares at Gwinam’s contact until his eyes cross, before putting his phone to sleep and tossing it aside. It should get some rest, at least.
Calling Gwinam won’t help anyway. Cheongsan tried, once, under the guise of complaining about Gwinam not doing the dishes before he left. Hearing his voice only made this situational insomnia worse. Never mind the argument over chores that ensued. Dumb stuff that only filled Cheongsan with longing and left him more restless, when they finally said goodnight and hung up.
Grabbing at Gwinam’s pillow, Cheongsan shoves it back toward the top of the bed. Settles on his stomach, head turned resolutely away from his phone and cheek smushed deep into Gwinam’s scent. He closes his eyes gently. Relaxes every muscle in his body. One at a time.
This is no big deal. All he has to do is shut his mind off. Stop thinking so loud.
…
…
A feat that’s easier said than done, but Cheongsan can manage it. He’s done it before. Slept just fine before he was subjected to Gwinam’s possessive bedtime habits.
Cheongsan is just…out of practice. He’s comfy right now. Really. Toasty, safe, exhausted.
If he can just hold still long enough, he’ll drift off eventually…
-
Sleep must’ve happened sooner or later, because the next thing Cheongsan knows something is pulling him from it. Bleary awareness creeps in slowly. His eyelids flutter just enough to let him know that it’s still very much nighttime, and he’s all set to curse out whatever the hell just had to go and wake him from hard-won slumber –
But then the bed dips, cooler air rushing beneath the comforter as it’s lifted, and Cheongsan jolts awake. Squirms to peek over his shoulder, figure out who the hell is invading their bed – only to be stopped by the familiar weight of a warm palm. It presses down between his shoulder blades, and he almost groans. Sinks grateful into the mattress. Heat coursing through his veins and comfort lining his insides at that single purposeful touch.
Not even Gwinam’s rude snickering bothers Cheongsan in this state. He’s too damn pleased to feel that bastard shifting close under the covers.
“Easy, Sannie,” Gwinam says, voice low. “It’s just me.”
As if Cheongsan wouldn’t know him anywhere. Who else would be creeping in in the dead of night like this. Hands and knees bracketing Cheongsan for a moment while Gwinam gets the blankets situated overtop of himself, just so he’ll be covered when he – oh, hell – when he drops. Lies down heavy atop Cheongsan. Lets his body go lax, draping his entire being along Cheongsan’s back. Deadweight that presses Cheongsan deep into the mattress. Firm, hot, close – there’s no room for air between them, Gwinam’s hips at his thighs, chest at his back. Stomach rising-falling tangible. Cheek ground against the nape of Cheongsan’s neck.
Shit. Cheongsan can’t help the satisfied moan that crawls up his chest at combined sensations. Eyelids instantly heavy, as he once again nuzzles into that pillow that smells like Gwinam.
“Knew you had to be missing me,” Gwinam mumbles. Soft lips brush too-light against Cheongsan’s skin, and he shivers. A reaction that Gwinam tempers with a definitive kiss. Lips pressed rough and insistent to Cheongsan’s hairline.
It would be embarrassing if Cheongsan wasn’t so damn comfortable. So relieved at having that familiar weight back. Whatever sleep he was struggling through before was nothing compared to how relaxed he feels right now, with Gwinam using him as a body pillow. Stretching out at Cheongsan’s back. Rearranging his limbs until their legs are partially intertwined and one of Gwinam’s arms is curled beneath Cheongsan. Loose around his throat. The other stretched under the pillows.
So much perfect pressure is too tangible to be a dream. “What’re you doing here?” Cheongsan’s words are half-muffled by his pillow, but picking up his head is too much trouble. With Gwinam hunkering down atop him when that bastard wasn’t supposed to be home until the end of the week.
Gwinam gives a nondescript hum while nosing at Cheongsan’s hair. Firm, steady sweeps of motion. Purposeful contact of his nose crushed to Cheongsan’s skull – shit. All of him is so solid…
“Project got delayed. Some zoning shit someone forgot to get clearance for, or some fucking bullshit like that. Left us hanging around all goddamn day to do fuck-all in the end.”
Oh. That’s nice. Cheongsan stops trying to keep his eyes open. It’s useless, with the heat of Gwinam’s skin barely dampened by a worn cotton t-shirt. Loose sleep pants. Cheongsan is only in boxers. Didn’t realize how chilly he was until just now. When he’s nowhere near cold anymore. Missing body heat finally returned to him. Redoubled and trapped. He squirms just to feel the way Gwinam settles even heavier.
Almost like he’s purposefully bearing down – and, yep, he’s grinding his hips, now. A slow, lazy thing that rolls up his body. Offers extended pressure in turn, while Gwinam kisses behind Cheongsan’s ear. Nips at the shell of it.
“They didn’t even want to fucking pay us, so I fucked off soon as I could,” Gwinam is saying, continuing his story. Words that take a while to penetrate the gooey molasses of Cheongsan’s half-asleep brain. “Can find better shit closer to home, anyway.” With that, Gwinam squeezes. Tightens all four limbs around Cheongsan, and, shit, Cheongsan can’t help the way he moans in response.
Really, he should be a bit more concerned. Should make sure Gwinam got paid after all. Or ask whether he left on decent terms or if he’ll have to cut ties with another construction group permanently.
Shit for tomorrow. Cheongsan hates thinking. Thoughts are horrible, nasty, invasive.
Sensation is the only thing he needs…
And oh, hell, he sure is getting it. Vibrations pressed into his back when Gwinam chuckles at him. That nose back to rubbing along his scalp, behind his ear – before Gwinam drops a heavy kiss to this spot. The start of a trail he takes down to the corner of Cheongsan’s jaw. Along the side of his neck – wet and suckling – god, hopefully he –
Shit, yes – Gwinam bites down, when he reaches the junction of Cheongsan’s neck and shoulder. A slow, deliberate move with controlled force. Gwinam gnawing with suction. Teeth working the spot as he hums satisfied into Cheongsan’s skin. More vibrations. Dull pain.
It gets more lazy heat curling through Cheongsan’s gut. His own body is pleasantly heavy, weighed down by Gwinam on top of him. Chewing on tight muscle until it relaxes. Sucking almost hard enough to bruise. Working his way slowly across bare skin, teeth scraping whenever he shifts to savor the next spot. A habit that proves he’s equally as tired as Cheongsan, who can’t even begin to complain. Has never once minded this. Slow, savoring bites that lull him deeper toward sleep with every clamp of those jaws. Firm suckling kisses so thorough they’re more like a massage. Shit…
Cheongsan rumbles out another pleased noise, flexing-then-settling beneath Gwinam. This is comfort on a level he wasn’t expecting, tonight. Knows he’ll be sleeping straight through every alarm he’s got set, tomorrow. Doesn’t care. Wants to stay trapped in cozy limbo forever. Heavy with sleep. Borderline too-warm. Solid weight on top of him and suckling bites working their way up his neck.
Gwinam lingers around Cheongsan’s pulse point. Pulls off slow, with a slick noise. Cheongsan is wet with leftover spit, an entire path that goes from his jaw to the round of his shoulder. The mild chill of it would be annoying if Gwinam didn’t keep him so warm otherwise.
As it is, it’s just another comfort. Because Gwinam will keep at it. Nursing the area until Cheongsan is dead asleep –
Only, this time, he’s nudging higher. That’s different, sort of. How he shifts up Cheongsan’s back so that his mouth can aim for Cheongsan’s cheek. Gwinam sucks on the round of it, a generous mouthful that’s got Cheongsan groaning, again. Eyes rolling behind closed lids. Sparks popping lazy at the base of his spine.
Gwinam pokes his tongue into the spot where Cheongsan’s dimple would be, and then kisses it. Licks at the corner of Cheongsan’s mouth – and then he’s kissing here, too. Tilting his head around at an awkward angle once he’s finished, so that he can manage something closer to a proper kiss. Cheongsan returns it without opening his eyes. Wet, swollen lips tugging soft at his own, coaxing him into a slow exchange that melts him that much more.
That careful mouth takes Cheongsan’s apart with a series of slick overlapping presses. The crooked angle isn’t a problem, with Gwinam curling over Cheongsan’s shoulder to compensate. That arm he’s got beneath Cheongsan wraps to him, palm pressing to Cheongsan’s chest, fingernails biting at skin when those fingers flex eager – Gwinam’s tongue slipping between Cheongsan’s teeth –
It sweeps through his mouth before retracting. Brings the flavor of stale coffee. A result of Gwinam trying to stay awake on his way home, no doubt.
Cheongsan gets one more kiss. Can’t quite return it in time before those lips lift away from his, contact that lingers sticky with saliva. Gwinam pressing his mouth to Cheongsan’s dimple. Another savoring cluster of suckling bites as he slithers back down Cheongsan’s body.
…Overeager asshole. He’s partially hard. His semi nudging at the back of Cheongsan’s thigh.
There’s nothing insistent about it, though, and for some reason it only serves to make Cheongsan that much more comfortable. He flexes this leg, intentionally tightening the muscles only to relax them when Gwinam grinds down, humming all content directly into Cheongsan’s ear. He stretches, hips winding halfhearted even as he hunkers down with exhausted intent. Cheongsan can tell, because Gwinam goes back to chewing on the meat of his shoulder. Teeth working the spot…
Inhaling deep, Cheongsan exhales slow. Savors the pressure of Gwinam moving with him as he breathes. Can feel a steady heartbeat pounding at his back. It matches his own. Their bodies falling into sync.
“We should get you a weighted blanket, Sannie,” Gwinam murmurs, words half-slurred into Cheongsan’s skin.
“Mnh,” is all Cheongsan can manage at first. It takes some doing, to haul his brain back online enough to form a proper protest with actual words. His mouth is too damn sleepy. Buried in a pillow that smells like Gwinam. Tang of him tangible from above, too. More real, raw, and close than the secondhand scent from this pillow. Cheongsan is so weak. Most-of-the-way asleep even as he speaks. “Wouldn’t be th’ same.” It wouldn’t be anywhere near heavy enough, for one thing, and for another: “You’d hafta at least make it smell like you first…”
That gets a snarling sort of noise from Gwinam – the type that sets off another round of sparks fizzling low through Cheongsan. Teeth sink rough into his neck and he squirms, whimpers, tries to make himself as pliant and flat beneath Gwinam as he can. Just to feel him better. Lax and solid and perfect.
Gwinam is burrowing into Cheongsan with intent, then, and it’s the sort of shit that will send Cheongsan right off to sleep. Well-worn, comforting arousal coils in his belly, and Gwinam keeps him pinned safe. Sandwiched between the firm mattress and the uneven splay of Gwinam’s body that covers Cheongsan just right, thanks to how damn tall that asshole is.
“Gonna make you smell like me,” Gwinam is mumbling, possessive fire imbuing his words with a heady undercurrent.
Cheongsan offers up some approximation of encouragement – it really only comes out as another pleased noise, but it’ll have to do. He’s too tired for anything else. Teetering on the edge of sleep. Falling fast and easy. Now that Gwinam is here, lying slotted to Cheongsan. Right where he belongs.
It really is unfair, how comfortable he is when he should be stifling, crushing…
Finally slipping into a deep, dreamless sleep, Cheongsan has no desire to complain.