Work Text:
Alyssa craned her neck slightly, searching in the dimness of her room for her clock. Its digital interface told her it was 12:38AM, showing that the two of them had been laying here for exactly 23 minutes. She surmised that it was likely the earliest her companion had gone to sleep for weeks. She carefully positioned her neck back so as to not disturb him, and glanced down at his unkempt hair, its inky blue sheen just barely visible in the limited light. Hohenheim’s face was buried in the crook of her neck and she could feel his slow, warm breaths tracing across her skin, as well as his stubble lightly prickling against it. He snored softly, and she hoped it was a sign that he wasn't pretending to be asleep to please her. An itch was starting to form from where his chin rested on her shoulder, but she didn’t dare to move because of it, as she wasn’t aware how lightly he was currently sleeping. Recently she had noted that he had been wearing more stubble than he usually preferred to keep, causing him to look bedraggled, more than usual at least. It was a piece of evidence among a list of many that had spurred her into conducting her plan. Said plan had succeeded, and had resulted in Hohenheim finally letting himself snore away peacefully.
Continuing to stare, she hoped the position he had landed himself in was at least comfortable for him as it was for her. From her perspective, his neck was angled almost unnaturally, and she couldn’t actually view his face as it was buried under his bird’s nest. He was half lying on top of her and had let the other half of his body remain collapsed on the bed, as well as having unintentionally left his arm resting across her torso, though she had no desire to move it. Her own arm and shoulder were crumpled under his angular frame, and though she knew she would pay the price for that in the coming morning, the pressure allowed her to realise how thin Hohenheim had been getting lately. There was only so much of his condition she could grasp from his face alone, and though his cheeks and eyes had always been a little sunken, the development of these features increased her concern for him. Rather annoyingly, he would deflect any questions about his own health back towards her. A comment about how rarely he would show his face in the cafeteria would be met with a remark about how slowly the tube of burn scar salve in their office was being depleted, and thus no progress would be made.
Eventually Alyssa had enough of how intense the smell of coffee would be in the office at all times (he had even started to become acquainted with a certain employee’s old energy drink stash for his caffeine requirements), as well as Hohenheim’s constant yawning and lack of desire to improve his habits in any capacity. She remembered how she had blown up at him in frustration not that long ago, and while she wasn’t proud of her scathing remarks towards his character, the complete indifference he displayed to the attempted intervention made it obvious that a forceful method would be unproductive. It was also rather worrying, watching Hohenheim not even make any sort of effort to protect himself from her outburst, a stark contrast to how their relationship previously was, where debates about the most minute topics between the two of them, the three of them, could last hours upon hours.
The plan had been a relatively simple task, all things considered. Of course, Hohenheim was predisposed to swiftly declining any of his researchers entertaining the idea of him joining them in after-hours recreational activities, especially now. Any excuse under the sun, under the roof of their underground workplace, would be conjured up. From independently evaluating the accuracy of abnormality and distortion codes, to needing to scout for more researchers to fill the empty positions their currently threadbare department still had, to needing to orient these new hires, to needing to consult the facility’s incident action plan for the hundredth time that week, not to mention the recent influx of new abnormalities and still being expected to make time to focus on the Golden Bough project. That was all just a drop in the bucket of the justifications he could give on the spot whenever prompted to take a break. Watching the dark circles grow under Hohenheim’s eyes, it was maddening to Alyssa. Old researchers were becoming disturbed and new researchers were left perplexed at their boss’ clearly destructive lifestyle, and the situation wasn’t improved by the fact that now there was one less voice who had the boldness to confront him about his habits.
And thus a few hours earlier, Alyssa had decided to just bluntly ask whether Hohenheim wanted to continue his self-inflicted nightly paperwork torment in the comfort of her dorm room. Naturally he was perplexed, and questioned how on earth that would help with his productivity, but Alyssa stayed firm and rationalised the idea by suggesting at least a slight change in scenery from being cooped up in the office would have some positive mental effects, and thus increase his productivity in the long run. It felt like she had subconsciously worn a sly smile during the conversation, and had no doubt that Hohenheim picked up on it, as he had given her an inquisitive glare in return. She purposefully hadn’t suggested they go to his own dorm room to work, and had been meaning to pop over when she had managed to get him to fall asleep to see a glimpse of its likely sorry state, but that of course couldn’t occur now.
Ultimately, Hohenheim had relented and had brought a small stack of documents up with him through the elevator that led to the employee dorm rooms. Alyssa had even managed to convince him to change out of his E.G.O gear into more comfortable clothes for once, for which she considered herself a miracle worker. The chief researcher had looked visibly anxious without the weight of the nail-staked coat strapped around his shoulders. He never stood particularly tall with his posture, relying on his words and temperament to convey his perceived grandeur to others. But without his gear, he seemed even more meager, pathetic even, as he shrunk into himself. His neck protruded out more than what was considered healthy, no longer concealed by the E.G.O’s high collar. She randomly remembered a comment she was about to make concerning his trembling legs just before a certain presentation… before… She inhaled a breath sharply before focusing back on Hohenheim’s snoring to distract herself for a short while.
Alyssa’s eyes travelled away from the person sleeping by her side to that stack of paperwork, which was now familiarising itself with the floor. She could make out the white sheets strewn across the floorboards with the help of the faint light being emitted from her laptop screen, balancing on a stool next to the bed. A recording of some trivia game show she had found was still playing, although she had managed to lean over and mute the device when Hohenheim had drifted off. The idea was to idly watch the show next to him as he worked away whilst they both sat on her bed (there wasn’t much space in her company provided room after all), and attempt to engage him in it. The more crass and low brow the show, the better, she assumed, in order to get him worked up about the sheer stupidity of the contestants, and for once, distract him from work matters and finally relax while doing something completely inconsequential for the evening.
Eventually his lack of caffeine had caught up, and Alyssa felt him start leaning into her side more and more, still attempting to keep his eyes open and focused on whatever superfluous conversation they were having. At least it wasn’t work related. He had obviously known what she was trying to do, as soon as she had asked him the preliminary question, so she wasn’t sure why he had played along in the scheme in the end. She was convinced his own arrogance would be the main hurdle, yet there was surprisingly little resistance in the end. Had he just been waiting for a good enough excuse to lower his guard? To finally shut that damned brain of his off for an evening? But there were already ample opportunities for that before, she wondered, given to him from both her and the other researchers. Perhaps he had gotten exhausted battling with his own stupid pride after all this time-
She was cut off from her rumination by a sudden wetness on her neck. Fuck, was he drooling!? Ugh… She was expecting her face to scrunch up in disgust as a reaction, though she had forgotten that her averseness to liquids wouldn’t be present, she wasn’t adorned in her fiery E.G.O of course. In the end she was just glad that Hohenheim was sleeping deeper than she had first thought. The supposed scene the two had contrived themselves into was almost cute, she pondered.
Alyssa didn’t realise until her free hand was already a few inches away from Hohenheim’s mop of a head, but she found herself desperately wanting to stroke at the wavy mass. She really didn’t want to disturb his sleep however, he likely wasn’t even under REM yet. Whilst debating the decision, a low grumbling noise escaped Hohenheim’s throat as he sleepily tried to curl up even closer against Alyssa, as if that were even possible. The hand that lay across her torso clutched her tightly as he tensed up, and then relaxed after he had gotten himself comfortable again. Their legs were practically tangled together now, and his head had moved down onto her chest. Her face flushed scarlet. After a few moments, she allowed her hand to fall softly onto his hair and she ran her hands through, massaging his head as she went along. Wings! What was this? What was any of this? Her thoughts started racing as Hohenheim leaned into her touch. She continued with the motion until he had started softly snoring again, until he was lulled back to sleep.
Craning her neck once more, she checked the time, 1:02AM. She should really try to fall asleep too, Alyssa thought. When was the next time she was going to see Hohenheim this peaceful though? The department had another large presentation coming up, a substitute for the one that was supposed to occur far earlier, and of course the two of them were taking on the brunt of the work. They still hadn’t been able to bring themselves to discuss the possibility of choosing a new assistant researcher together to make the task more manageable either. Perhaps that was why he had relented for tonight, to finally rest in a place that wasn’t the new break room couch or his office chair before surrendering himself back into the abyss of their work. Though, Alyssa remained hopeful that tonight wasn’t just a one-off, and would perhaps become more of a regular occurrence, for more reasons that one. Her blush returned at the idea, and remained until she had fallen asleep herself.