Work Text:
It’s dark when you get home.
Arguably that’s not unusual – it’s been years since you told the time using the sun instead of the clocks at the mineshaft terminals. The yellow light from the Geomarrow lamps that line the streets just make you feel more tired than you already are, the little energy you have just enough to scrub the dust off you, eat dinner and collapse into bed. The water is a little too hot (shitty faucet), the food tastes bland (shitty supplies) but your bed is soft and warm and it feels like a miracle to burrow under the covers like a particularly miserable worm.
You get about 45 minutes of sleep before something wakes you up. There’s no noise that shouldn’t be there, but there’s a draft coming in from the window that slithers right under your blankets and knots up your shoulders.
You never opened that window. Warmth was too precious to waste on something like airing out the house.
As quietly as you can, you slide your hand towards the hammer under your pillow – a necessary caution nowadays with the vagrants getting more and more desperate – trying to disguise the movement as a casual readjustment of your position. There aren’t any footsteps, but the hairs on the back of your neck prick up regardless.
There is definitely someone else in your house, and they’re coming towards you.
The moment your hand closes securely around the handle of your hammer you turn over to confront the stranger, weapon held above your head as you prepare to beat the hell out of-
“Sampo Koski?”
He has the absolute gall to smile at you, as though it was totally normal for him to have broken into your house to loom over you in your sleep.
“That’s right! Just lil’ old me, come to see my favourite person in the whole world.”
When you don’t put the hammer down, his expression turns a little more contrite, those stupid puppy eyes coming into full force.
“I – uh. Your door was locked, and it was so cold outside. Your wouldn’t make your beloved Sampo sleep outside, right?” He blinks, hands clasped earnestly in his lap. “Right?”
Of course that was why he was here. Gepard and the rest of the Guard were probably looking for him in the Overworld, meaning he had to scurry his way back down to Boulder Town. He had other safe houses obviously, but it seemed like he followed stray cat philosophy: feed me once, and I’ll never stop coming back. You knew the sensible thing to do in that case was to close your door in his face, really teach him that you were not going to let him just come and go as he pleased.
You scowl at him, turning back around and curling up in bed again. It takes a single minute of him staring at you from behind for you to sigh.
“Fine. Close the damn window first.”
He laughs – laughs! – as though this was a foregone conclusion before unfolding himself from the floor and walking over to the window. It stings that he knows you so well, but you can’t really blame him. You really are predictable: as much as he pissed you off, he always got his way in the end. It was what made him so annoying and made you promise (fruitlessly) to really put your foot down next time.
And then next time.
And again…
When he slides into bed next to you, you yelp. The only reason you don’t kick him is because he moves out of the way fast enough to avoid your foot.
“You’re freezing – and soaked! What, did you bury yourself in a snowdrift to hide from Gepard?”
His silence tells you all you need to know. Reaching behind you, you pinch him.
“Idiot. Take your wet clothes off, you’re making the bed cold.”
“Heh, that eager to see me naked? I should start charging a fee.”
Despite his playful response, he really does get undressed. You can hear the wet slap of his wet clothes on the floor – though never him. You’d never noticed it until quiet nights like these, but Sampo didn’t make noise. He spoke (a lot) but if you paid attention to the smaller things: footsteps, the sound of jewellery clinking or fabric rustling – he was just… silent. It's one of those things that freak you out if you think about it too hard, made you sleep with your head on his chest to make sure his heart was still beating because you couldn’t hear him breathing no matter how hard you tried.
“Looks like you’re thinking real hard, gorgeous. Considering making an investment in my latest business scheme?”
The mattress dips under his weight when he lays back down next to you. He’s still a little cold, but he warms up quickly when he wraps himself around you like a python. You’re too drowsy to snap at him when he worms his hands under your shirt to warm them up, resolving to put salt in his coffee or something tomorrow to get back at him.
“I’m not going to be your pimp, Sampo. Go to sleep.”
He laughs again, warm breath fanning out between your shoulder blades as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck.
“Yeah, yeah. Too good for business, right angel?”
The last thing you think is that you’re definitely kicking him out next time before you fall asleep.
---------------------
Morning Sleeping Beauty!
Had a client who desperately needed my services – couldn’t bear to wake you. Made you coffee though <3 nothing but the best for my favourite person ~
You take a sip from the mug on the countertop.
“Fucking bastard.”
It’s salty.