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White stared bleakly as he typed in his report, feeling the weight of his eyelids grow heavier. Time seemed to pass gruelingly slow, stretching out longer each time White peeked at the clock. He was trying to avoid any misspellings or mistakes, having no desire to spend any more on this blasted report.
Finally, White had been spared as he yanked the papers, shot up and out of his seat. With a brisk pace, White marched straight to his Commander’s office. He gave curt greetings to passing coworkers, too dry to interact with them further.
With a silent second standing before the door, White entered the office, standing on attention as he waited to be addressed.
“Yes, Agent Dagger?” The commander spoke without looking up from the files. Piles of paperwork littered the desk, busy organizing info from the gathered enemy intel.
White waited a few seconds before speaking. “I finished my reports sir.” White spoke clearly, mustering up all the energy he could.
The commander didn’t bat an eye, scrawling his pen. “Leave them at my desk, Agent. You are excused for the day.” The commander had pardoned him, allowing White a bit of freedom. White set the papers down, avoiding lingering for too long.
As soon as the office door closed, White slumped. He was running low, feeling the exhaustion starting to catch up. White straightened back up, chewing his lip as he tried to trudge on. Quickly avoiding a persistent coworker, White didn’t want to drink out dammit, he managed his way to the exit. Going straight to his car, he wasted no time setting it to drive and getting away.
White mindlessly drove, staring at the road, even as it warped and wavered. His vision was slowly fading, the darkness creeping in to blind him. He felt a gradual loss of feeling in his hands, unconsciousness threatening to wash over him. White quickly pulled over, hitting the brakes and parking. He let his head hit the driving wheel, groaning as he struggled to stay awake.
White wasn’t sure how many more all nighters missions he could do, always feeling crummy afterwards and barely able to function. White wouldn’t be able to make it to his stationed home, an annoying 2 hour drive from the White faction Headquarters. He lifted his head up a bit, staring bleakly at the dark roads, before letting his head hit the wheel, over and over.
Then lightbulb. He knew someone who lived relatively close by, and had said prior that he could crash at their place. White set the gear into drive and got back onto the road, luckily only 15 minutes from their apartment. The hope of finally being able to crash was enough motivation to survive the time needed to get there.
White pulled into the public parking lot, almost crashing into a stranger’s car. He was looking at a car that he suspected belonged to the person he wanted to see right now. White snaked out of his car, and headed up to the side of the building. He had been here before, and greatly preferred avoiding the neighbors. They were always so nosy and tried to chat with him. Not to mention a few were the gossipy type, invading personal space. He didn’t wish to endure that currently.
Crawling up the side, he managed to make it to their window. It was thankfully unlocked, as an easy push was all it took for it to open and allowed White to let himself crash right onto their floor. He grumbled, the loud thud no doubt alerting the apartment owner… and probably the surrounding neighbors. Serves them right.
Black quickly came out of a corner, holding a gun as quick as ever. They lowered it as soon as they saw White was laying face first on his floor.
“…”
“…”
“… Long day?” Black finally asked, amusement painting his expression as he walked over and shut his window, locking it this time. White rolled over, laying on his back with a weary groan seeping out.
“I think one of these days I’ll keel over dead.” White mumbled, staring soullessly at the ceiling. Black walked over, holstering his gun and crossing his arms as he inspected White half lazily.
“Hmm. Yeah. It looks like it. One more all-nighter should do the trick.” Black commented, crouching down to snatch White's hat. “Want to eat? I made chicken Alfredo.” Black offered, a tender smile slowly growing.
White stared at Black, admiring how happy they looked. His heart fluttered, silently hoping it was because of him. Feeling too lazy to talk, White simply gave a thumbs up to Black, not fighting as they took off his hat. He closed his eyes when they brought their hand to graze his scalp, feeling calmed by the heat of their palm.
Black stood back up, walking to the kitchen to dish up a plate for White. He felt soothed, taking a deep breath as he let his eyes rest. He didn’t feel in danger. Not here, anyway. He could relax as much as he needed. White felt himself shaken awake, Black hovering over him, not realizing he had dozed off.
“Man, you must really be tired. You did eat today right?” Black questioned, prodding at White’s face, mostly to irritate him. White stared up at them, pondering as he recalled his day. He only recalled the 2 cups of coffee he had when he woke up. Or was it 4?
White thought of lying, having harked at Black for not eating well on several occasions. He was a Hypocrite, he knew that all too well. White stared into Black's eyes, seeing their concern. It was better to lie in this case.
“Yeah, I ate well. Had a sandwich for breakfast, rav-“
“Stop lying, would ya? You're horrible at it,” Black interjected, huffing in annoyance as they made White sit up, “That was your breakfast yesterday. AND don’t pull more excuses to back up that lie!”
White clicked his tongue, agitation brewing. Black had gotten better at reading him. “You’re the only one that can tell I’m lying, you bastard.” White grumbled out, making no attempt to ease Black's efforts to sit him up. Why should he make it easy for them and they weren’t doing the same.
Black groaned with clenched teeth, yanking White up in a Bridal carry, much to White’s surprise. “You are going to eat. End of discussion.” Black said sternly, carrying him to the dining table. White stayed limped, huffing as his only response.
White was sat down, already served a plate of food before he could refute any further. He stared at the food, feeling the warmth emanating off the chicken Alfredo. The aroma whirled around him, causing an audible growl from his empty stomach. This made White think, when was the last time someone cooked for him? Well, then again, black didn’t really cook for him in mind, but it still made White’s chest flutter.
Black chuckled from a far, grabbing a beer from the fridge. White had caught a quick peek into the fridge in that split second. More alcohol than food. And there wasn’t even that much of the alcohol either. A slight slither of guilt coiled in White’s stomach, unsure if he should eat it if there wasn’t much food anyway. Black setting the beer can in front of him, snapped him out of the silent train of thought.
Black sat down next to him, immediately digging into his food. White mentally noted to secretly pay them the next chance he got. Black wasn’t taking no for an answer.
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White sat at the table, dozing off with a stomach full of warm food and beer. It was a nice feeling taken care of, making the effort to keep his eyes open tougher. The homely noise of Black washing the dishes was lulling White, nodding off a couple of times. The image of a married life sprouting behind his eyelids.
Black dried his hands with the kitchen towel, turning to White with amusement. “Feeling sweepy now? Wanna go night night?” Black baby talked White, softly striding up to him from behind.
“Don’t patronize me.” White grumbled, holding his head to not fall face first on the table. He felt Black's hands graze his back, rubbing along his spine. A small unsteady huff left his nose, letting his eyes fall close for just a second.
White jolted a wake, catching himself before he fell limp. He was exhausted, and everything about Black was making him even more drowsy. He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.
“Blaaack.” White whined, rubbing his eyes with one hand as he felt Black massaging the tense muscles. “What are you doing?” White questioned, feeling paranoid now with how vulnerable he was becoming. He couldn’t tell if he was feeling warm because of how Black was touching him or if the several beers were getting to him.
“You’re so stiff, White. It’s not good to have such tense muscles,” Black leaned closer to him, their breath tickling his skin, “after all you need to be loose for your job.” Black was teasing him now, yet White could only focus on their voice. The hum of their tone was reverberating through his mind. He leaned in closer, nuzzling against their warm body.
“Black. I’m too tired,” White whined softly, but internally feeling a bit panicked. He wasn’t in the mood this time.
“I know. I’m not asking for anything tonight.” Black eased him, leaning down and swiping back his hair to kiss his forehead. White nearly mewled at the sensation, but managed to bite his tongue.
“Okay… I’ll… I’ll make it up to you next time.* White muttered, feeling his consciousness drift off as his logic shriveled up.
“You don't have too.” White almost missed what Black said. He felt himself being lifted and carried off, reminiscent of his childhood. Yet the familiarity felt more intense considering who was holding him so tenderly.
White peeked through one eye, staring at Black as they caught him staring and smiled. One of those genuine smiles that only he seemed to receive. It amazed White how he felt so safe in the arms of his most dangerous rival. He could never hate them.
Black had laid down on the couch, turning something on the television. Ugh, Damn insomniac. Black wasn’t heading to bed, and was instead going to watch whatever program was airing. Yet White couldn’t fully judge, being a hypocrite, he was an insomniac himself. Yet white felt himself gradually falling asleep, Black's arms holding him firmly in place, his face resting on top of Black's chest, and their heart beating was all it took to make White drift off cold. His eyes closed and stayed shut for the rest of the night.
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Black's eyes had stared at the tv for hours now, having watched some sort of true crime documentary on an Old singer he’d known as a teen. Sucks they’re dead. The world had changed in ways he never expected. And he supposed he had changed as well, despite everything going on in the world.
Black finally registered that he had been petting White’s head, with no trouble, for some time. Usually, He wasn’t allowed to as it would mess up their hair, that they of course “had spent hours styling.” Black always thought it was stupid how uptight White was about their appearance.
Black started to register their position entirely as He realized White had nuzzled his face into his chest. Their arms were hugging him like a child with their stuffed bear they couldn’t sleep without. Black looked down, admiring the rare scene. They were oddly adorable like this. Black wouldn't mind if they did this more often. Eating together, and then cuddling until they fell asleep in each other's embrace.
Black snaked his arms around White as well, holding and feeling their torso softly rise and fall. He leaned his face in to plant a single kiss on White forehead, warmth blooming throughout his body. They were so cute like this, sleeping on top of him.
Usually when White would come over, it would be a quick thing. “Heated passions” or whatever, but Black always felt a little lonely being left alone immediately after sex. He could never find a viable excuse that would keep White longer by his side.
Black let his head fall as he grabbed the remote and finally shut off the tv. He was getting a headache now, his temple pulsing as his eyes burned. Bringing an arm to cover his eyes as the other kept holding White, a heavy sigh escaped him. He didn’t want to wish for it. But if it meant White coming over to snuggle into him, He hoped White was worked to the bone more often.
Everything was quiet, too quiet. Black didn’t feel tired in the least, reflecting on his selfish thought. Ugh. Yet Black couldn’t move since he was now White's personal teddy bear. Black lifted his arm and stared at the ceiling, trying to focus on anything to distract the many thoughts now swirling in his mind.
The sound of White’s soft breathing started to come into Black's attention more and more. They were deep in sleep no doubt, their breathing at a slow, even pace. Black forced his eyes shut and focused on White’s breathing, slowly feeling his heart match theirs.
He rolled them to their side, earning White groaning in their sleep. Cute. Black then nuzzled his way into their neck, hiding between their skin and the couch. Hopefully covering his face would help him sleep. He felt White readjust as well, nuzzling into his exposed neck, and hitching a leg around his waist. Black squeezed hard, not wanting to let go of them ever.
White simply mewled as their hands lazily clawed his back. Black shuddered, the nonsensical trailing of White’s fingers making his heart skip a beat. He then felt White press closer into him, feeling their temperature even through their clothes. They were very warm oddly enough, not the slightly lower temperature of a sleeping person. Well, if White was awake, Black wasn’t complaining.
Black could fall asleep like this.
They both needed sleep.