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Like a majestic bird, the comforter flew off the bed.
“Shit,” you whispered. But Karamatsu had already sat up.
“Allow me, brother,” he mumbled groggily, and crawled across the mattress.
The (English) “brother” should have warned you, but you caught on too late. Karamatsu had moved as if he was on a futon on the floor, like he would have been at home. But he was at your home, on a Western-style bed frame, a narrow mattress raised well above the floor, and—
CRASH.
“Oh my god, oh—”
You scrambled across the room and flipped on the lights. That was...well, for any other person falling out of bed that would have been an absurd amount of blood, but for Karamatsu, honestly, it was less than you’d expected. He’d already pushed himself up onto his elbows, groaning, and you grabbed a tissue to mop his forehead.
“Karamatsu-kun, Kara, are you all—?”
“Hmmm?” He squinted at you, confused. “Darling, what are you doing here...?”
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. The bleeding had stopped, so you trailed kisses across the wound. “I’m so...I’m, really, I’m so sorry...”
Though already blushing and sweaty from the attentions, Karamatsu soon wore a happy grin and puckered his lips expectantly. But you’d already maneuvered past him to scoop the comforter off the floor. You made sure to tuck it securely under the mattress this time. Maybe that would help. Maybe.
When you turned back, Karamatsu was just standing there awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of his pajama shirt. But he let you guide him back to bed, and clambered in while you turned the lights back off.
The sound of his breathing was quiet and even beside you, and though he was careful not to touch (for propriety’s sake, or maybe just fear), you were sure his gaze kept flickering towards you. You just jittered your knee, as gently as you could manage. You wouldn’t upend the sheets again.
Despite the jostling, Karamatsu soon fell back asleep, whistling snores through his nose. Oh great, something else to keep me up. But you felt guilty just as soon as you thought it. It wasn’t his fault. You were the one causing trouble.
Darkness. Karamatsu’s snores. The ticking of a clock. Muffled street sounds in the distance.
The creak of the mattress, louder and faster, as your leg just kept shaking.
“Stop it,” you moaned, barely audible.
And it did. You made it stop.
...And that was worse, so you made it start again, and this time it was both legs.
Karamatsu snuffled, hunching his shoulders. “Brother...”
You tumbled onto your side, to the very edge of the mattress, hoping that the distance would keep you from disturbing him. It was too late for you, you were never going to fall asleep, and if you did you weren’t sure that even that would stop your vibrating. But, geez, Karamatsu was such a sweet guy and you’d had such a nice date and why did you have to ruin his first night sleeping in your bed with this oh my god what’s WRONG with you—
“JYUSHIMATSU!!”
You realized you were thrashing around, rolling violently back and forth across the bed, wrapping yourself up in the sheets like a sloppy burrito.
Again, before you could correct him, Karamatsu made an assumption. He lunged across the bed, intending to pin down a rowdy brother that for some reason his other siblings weren’t dealing with—and one hand met empty air instead of a floor-bound futon, and inertia joined forces with gravity, and your blanket burrito body was directly in Karamatsu’s path—
—CRASH—
—BANG—
—THUD.
“...hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...”
...At least there was no blood this time.
You were still half-burrito’ed, sprawled on your back on the floor with blanket ends spread-eagled around you. Karamatsu was lying on top, also partly tangled in the sheets, whimpering slightly.
“Brother...” he mumbled again, glaring sleepily down at you.
But your faces were so close that even in the dark recognition came quickly, and he blinked in surprise. Then he glanced around, realized he was half-straddling you, and the temperature in his immediate vicinity shot up about a hundred degrees.
“Karamatsu-kun—” you tried, awash with guilt.
“I see,” is what he murmured, quivering as he tried to dramatically flip his hair. “If thi-this is how you want it...heh. I’d p-p-planned something more, mm, elaborate, r-roses and such, ah, for the occasion, but...”
“Karamatsu-kun, I’m so—”
“...if th-this is how passion takes us...” Karamatsu breathed, clumsily lowering himself for a kiss, “then...I...I p-promise to be g-g-ge-gentle—”
WHACK.
Like a drunken beach ball, Karamatsu bounced across the room.
You actually, literally, punched your knee, which was dumb because it already hurt from smacking your boyfriend in the ribs. So it just doubly hurt, and even then it wouldn’t stop jittering, and then the rest of you was shaking and your breath was ragged and you clawed desperately at the blankets around you and you buried yourself in their warmth in hopes that that might stop you from crying.
“Angel...?”
“I’m not tonight,” you muttered, snorting back snot.
But Karamatsu gently (gingerly...) sat himself beside you, and placed the tissue box in your lap. Utterly silent.
You did cry a little, but covered by mightily blowing your nose.
“I’m sorry, really, I—I know I c-can’t apologize enough, but I, I mean, I didn’t—that wasn’t on purpose, I mean, none of it was, b-but especially—I would never hurt y—”
“Heh.” Karamatsu smirked. “Injuries of the body are of no consequence.”
The way he winced when he breathed begged to differ.
“...Maybe you should go home.”
“Wuh?”
“I’m...you’re not...I mean, clearly you’re not gonna get much sleep when I’m around.”
The temperature spiked again.
“NOT LIKE THAT!” you squeaked.
“O-oh.”
Karamatsu fiddled with his hands. Eventually, he looked up.
“So, you...want me to leave...?”
“What? Oh, Kara-kun, no, I don’t want you to—” His tone had been so soft, he’d sounded like a kicked puppy. You felt a need to put your arms around him, but...
You swallowed.
“L-look,” you whispered, and peeled back the blankets.
Your legs weren’t...it’s not like you were shivering. They were just moving. Stretching, swinging, jittering, folding and unfolding. Not uncontrollably—each motion was a deliberate choice—but definitely constantly.
Karamatsu’s gaze flickered between your legs and your face, utterly bemused.
“You’ve...have you heard of Restless Leg Syndrome?”
He shook his head.
“It’s just...I mean...it’s nothing bad, that is, not really. It’s kind of like they itch, and they don’t feel better unless I move them.” You rotated your ankle to accentuate your point. “Honestly, usually this doesn’t even happen, but—I ran out of my medication last night, I’ve been meaning to get more, and I didn’t really think it would be this bad, I’m sorr—”
“Does it hurt?”
The question took you off guard. “What? ...No, it doesn’t.”
He heaved a sigh of relief, and you loved him just a little more. “Ah! Good. But...you have an urge to move them?”
You nodded. Karamatsu frowned, scratching his head.
“Jyushimatsu squirms eternal, perhaps he too...OH! And Ichimatsu! His legs kick at me every night, sometimes his fingers close upon my throat, and all this time—a horrible ailment—my brother, I’ve been so cruel to y—”
Suddenly he shook himself, and fixed his gaze on you.
“But that can wait. You...hmmm.” Your legs’ motion had quieted a bit as your nervousness had subsided, though they were still twisting and jiggling. The sight engrossed Karamatsu. “This...doesn’t this make it hard to sleep?”
“Y-yeah. Um, so, if you want, I can sleep on the couch, that’s totally fi—”
“Will sleeping on the couch help?”
“Well, I mean, I won’t steal your covers that way.”
“How? The couch soothes you?”
“...Uh...no...?”
“?”
“I just...um...oh. What I meant was...if I’m on the couch and you’re on the bed...”
“AH!”
“Y’see?”
“Yes.”
...a pause.
“You...don’t want to sleep beside me.”
It was that kicked puppy voice again. This time you did put your arms around him, though you made sure to keep your restless legs angled away. “Kara, I’d love to, really. I just don’t want to kick you again. Okay? You won’t get hurt that way.”
Karamatsu hung limp in your embrace. “Perhaps not my inconsequential body,” he pouted.
“Kara-kun...”
“HMM! Non, non! My heart would hurt in either case, as it would be weeping for your legs’ discomfort!!” Now he hugged you back with passion, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “My sweetcake, I cannot rest while the light of your happy star is dimmed by the concealing fog of your frantic limbs! As long as you are unable to sleep, I, too, will forego the balm of slumber! I shall twitch my own legs in solidarity—”
Smooch.
Karamatsu wheezed with shock, fingers flying to the still-tingling spot on his cheek. You giggled shyly.
“Thanks,” you whispered, and planted another kiss on his nose. Then you drew back. “B-but...really, you should get some sl—”
Karamatsu missed your mouth in the dark, his lips instead colliding against your chin. But you laughed, and kissed his upper lip, and that was enough of a guide that he found his target the next time.
Despite the desperate energy, it was gentle, and you melted into him. Karamatsu cradled you in his arms, awkwardly twisting his mouth against yours, the kiss soft and damp and honestly not very skillful but he was doing his best and you loved him for it. And when it ended, you caught his lips again, and again.
You’d finally managed to relax when your knee—you’d actually forgotten about it—banged against the floor. You accidentally bit into Karamatsu’s lip, muttering a swear against it before fully breaking the kiss.
But Karamatsu seemed unconcerned, and actually...when you shifted to angle your legs away from him again...he put his hand on your thigh.
You flinched. Karamatsu jerked his hand back. Your leg jiggled harder.
“Karamatsu?” you gulped.
His face was red again, beads of sweat glistening like rhinestones. But he slowly, deliberately, replaced his hand on your thigh.
“Maybe...” he muttered, fingers trailing down the length of your not-just-Restless-Leg-Syndrome quivering limb. When he caught the hem of your pajama pants, he gripped it with both hands and began rolling it up, forcing it almost all the way up to your hip.
He started...well...stroking. But in a very deliberate way. He was embarrassed, yes, but not droolingly appreciating your body. It seemed like Karamatsu was trying to work the muscles, fingers pressing alternately gentle and hard, listening to your gasps and grunts in hopes of figuring out what was working.
He thoroughly traced your entire leg, hip to foot, with these slow, searching caresses. And then he moved on to your other leg, rolling the pants up there as well, palming and prodding every inch of skin.
...Weirdly, the jittering subsided. It didn’t stop completely, but...that itch you felt, the one that needed to be shaken out, it had been largely obscured by the ghosts of his fingertips.
“...Wow,” you finally breathed as Karamatsu traced a line down your shinbone. “H-how did you know to do that?”
Karamatsu grinned bashfully, lingering around your ankle. “Sometimes Jyushimatsu stops squirming if his back is rubbed. Ichimatsu, too. But he prefers to be scratched behind the ears.”
“I see. Thank you.”
The grin turned smug. “Anything for you, rapturous flower,” he cooed, puckering his lips again.
Your leg jerked, but Karamatsu pinned it to the ground, clumsily massaging until it stopped.
Neither of you got much sleep that night. And when you did, it was collapsed in a heap in that impromptu nest of blankets on the floor.
But at least that kept Karamatsu from falling out of bed.