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If Hajime actually stopped to think about how many things had been done to his body, exactly, going from the changes in his brain to the physical alterations on muscles, organs, skin, and everything one could name, and tried to organize each change in an order that actually made sense, he would not only get an overwhelming headache, but he’d stay there counting for a long, long time.
So he really never truly had the will to question why, exactly, he woke up at at the exact same time every single morning. He called it an internal clock, a way his body somehow woke itself up at exactly 6:30AM sharp. It was a bonus, in some ways, for he did not need an alarm anymore, and had enough time during the day to get everything he needed done. He had time to go for a brief run for maybe half an hour, take a warm shower, head over to the restaurant to help the others make breakfast.
He could get dressed with ease and answer a flood of emails that might have accumulated during the night. He’d make a few phone calls, probably, deal with the mess that his friends had inevitably done to the island, hang out with them if he had some time to spare, and merely try not to pass out due cheer exhaustion during the day.
And, well, having a routine always helped. Hajime had taken a while to get used to the whole thing, when he’d first awaken from the simulation, but making a mental plan of what he was supposed to be doing had helped him a ton. Having a small schedule that sometimes shifted in times and topics helped him think straight without too many difficulties, without sinking in the pit of chaos and boredom that his many talents sometimes tried to drag him into.
For the first few months, Hajime had woken up at the exact same time, if he did not pull an all-nighter, and put himself into motion as soon as he opened his eyes. Less time to think was less time to dwell on the itching on his forehead, on the glint that was his left eye.
That was, as he’d said, for the first few months. Then Komaeda started sleeping over more often.
Hajime loved it, truly. He loved that Komaeda felt safe enough, when their relationship was still admittedly quite new, to timidly ask him if he minded having him over for the night. Hajime had accepted easily, and that was actually one of the first nights he went to bed at a decent time, and slept all the way through.
Hajime’s body was permanently warm, and Komaeda’s was often really cold. Hugging each other was somewhat therapeutic, as it seemed to regulate both of their temperatures for the better, for some reason. Komaeda had joked this was proof they were fully compatible, Hajime had felt himself swoon all over again.
Other than that, Komaeda needed to hug something while he slept, make it a pillow or, in many cases, Hajime’s torso, and Hajime himself had found out he slept so much better with a weight on top of him, despite being quite sensible to heat. He didn’t mind, somehow, if it made Komaeda sleep well.
He’d feel his arms squeeze around him and his heart would melt a little bit. Hajime would hear him sigh out in bliss, like it was the first time he’d felt this comfortable, he could watch him sleep soundly and safely in his embrace, and he’d feel so inexplicably good, it felt a little ridiculous.
Even with years passing, it never got old. Sometimes he was still too busy to go to bed with him, but no matter how late he slipped under the covers, they still ended up waking up in the same exact position. He wasn’t going to question it when it felt this good, truly.
And then Komaeda would open his eyes, blink the sleep away, and smile. He’d make Hajime feel like he was on top of the world first thing in the morning, something he never got tired of no matter how many times it happened. Which said a lot, really.
Fact was, sometimes Hajime did get bored. He got bored of hearing complaints. He got bored of having to fix problems. He got bored of following a routine. Sometimes boredom ran so deep, it felt like an itch he wasn’t able to properly scratch. Annoying, ever so annoying, it made him want to jump off something.
Sometimes boredom was so intense Hajime asked himself if he was still being commanded by a man who had hated life much more than anyone could have ever imagined.
And yet, it never lasted. He was soon swished and pulled away by someone having to involve him in anything else, someone wanting to spend time with him, someone jumping in his arms and playing around.
That was the main difference between the two halves of himself, he always thought. Izuru Kamukura was alone.
Hajime Hinata is not. Hajime Hinata is full of feelings, and he loved and cherished them each one of them.
So, well, despite repetitive things being an hassle, the view he woke up to each morning since he and his partner had officially gotten together was never boring. The far opposite.
Waking up and getting to kiss Komaeda on the lips was pure bliss. Waking up and seeing his beautiful smile put Hajime in an intense good mood.
Waking up next to Nagito Komaeda, the man Hajime loved more than anyone else in this world, his boyfriend of five years and soon to be fiance if everything went smoothly, was perfect in every aspect.
Or. Well. Almost every aspect.
Because if there was something Hajime had learnt while dating Komaeda, was that you need to fall in love with a person’s flaws, too, otherwise you’re bound to go clinically insane. Komaeda believed he had a lot of flaws, and while Hajime did not share the sentiment, mostly trying to discourage it for that matter, but he was aware that there were certain behaviors that could certainly… get better.
For example. His boyfriend degraded himself a lot. He made self deprecating jokes that Hajime made a point of punishing by making him sit in a corner and think about what he’d done for a few minutes before overwhelming him with compliments until Komaeda tried to tape his mouth shut, which was actually a much more effective method to make him be careful about the words he chose to describe himself from that point on, at least when he was around Hajime.
Or, well, for how much Hajime loved him, Komaeda really couldn’t cook anything. They’d tried to together, but the pan had somehow caught on fire and instead of being a sane person and putting it out Komaeda had merely stared at it like it were some minor inconvenience and muttered a small “oops” like it was a completely reasonable reaction to a fire. Hajime had luckily managed to put it out quite quickly.
Or, sometimes, he acted like a little shit. Sometimes he’d make Hajime angry on purpose, for some reason, Hajime really couldn’t see the appeal in making someone irritated at you but Komaeda clearly thought it was the funniest thing in the world, and tried to annoy him on purpose more times than not. Sometimes he really gave him an attitude, and it always, and he meant it when he said always, without a fail, drove Hajime absolutely insane.
Or. Well. He was not a morning person.
At all.
6:30AM sharp was the time Hajime opened his eyes at that very morning, no need to glance at a clock to know that. There was a rain of sun in his eyes, and albeit it wasn’t all that annoying, he still had to blink it away to be able to focus his vision properly. He registered the slight darkness that indicated the sun had just begun raising, the room temperature, and the weight firmly placed on top of his chest, the soft snoring that came from the other boy nuzzled in the crook of his neck.
Hajime smiled. A bit endeared, a bit resigned.
Despite being by far very much stronger than Komaeda, he still had a little difficulty when it came to getting this boy off of him. Mostly because Komaeda was a pretty light sleeper, and he’d tighten his hold and let out a muffled sound of protest if Hajime ever so slightly tried to shift in his position, which made it slightly impossible to keep the will to move him.
Hajime closed his eyes for a second. He had a meeting with Naegi at 8. He had promised Soda to help him out with a new invention as soon as he’d finished the call, and he had to prepare breakfast for about fifteen people depending on who wanted to eat what, clean the lobby as he hadn’t that in a while, take a shower, get dressed all before work duties came. This would be an optimal time to get up from bed, really.
Except.
Hajime glanced down. He hated the way his heart skipped when he caught Komaeda’s closed eyelids, the soft raise and fall of his shoulders with each breath he took, the softness of his hair brushing against his skin, which Hajime himself had washed last night while Komaeda told him about anything he’d been doing during the day. Something with Mioda, probably, Hajime had been too busy thinking about how beautiful he was so properly listen.
He felt somewhat mushy when Komaeda nuzzled closer, which was probably a poor attempt at acting cute to hide the fact he was already awake, too. Hajime smiled, brought his arms up to place them on his back, rubbing a few circles while one of them fell down, pulling one of Komaeda’s legs towards his torso. He felt his breathing hitch, and he chuckled.
“Good morning.” He mumbled, voice somewhat raspy.
All he got in response was an unfocused hum. Komaeda shifted closer, used his right hand to cup Hajime’s bicep and stroke up and down with his fingers.
“’m still sleeping. Shh.” Komaeda yawned, hiding his face in Hajime’s chest. The latter raised a brow.
“I didn’t know people talked when they were asleep.” He commented, stroking the material of Komaeda’s shirt. His shirt, actually, but Komaeda wore it so often it was basically his property now. Hajime had long gone accepted he was simply bound to never see some of his clothes again.
“I do.” Komaeda muttered, “I’m… that thing where you talk in your sleep. Somnambulism.”
“It’s sleep talking, babe.”
“Same thing.”
“And you do not have it.” Hajime shook his head. “Good morning, Nagi.”
Komaeda, like the good and loving boyfriend he was, let out a long drown out groan. His face had gotten somewhat warmer.
“Don’t call me that first thing in the morning.”
Hajime raised his arms, embraced his shoulders enough to bring him upwards, just so he could kiss his cheek. Komaeda’s lips curled upwards unconsciously.
“You love it when I call you that.” Hajime pointed out, “You were the one that asked for pet names.”
“It’s too good.” Komaeda complained, “It’s going to make my heart overload and explode. Are you trying to kill me, Hinata-kun? Is this your revenge? How petty.”
“You’re ridiculous.” Hajime concluded, kissing the top of his head. “You can sleep for another while, you know.”
“Hmm.”
“I can call you at about 7-something.”
“Wonderful.”
One second. Two. Another four.
“Nagito.”
“I’m sleeping. Shut up.”
“Nagi, babe, love of my life. You need to scoot over if I have to get out of bed.”
“You don’t have to get out of bed, in fact.”
“Nagito.”
“Hajime.”
He sighed out. He swatted his back.
“Come on.”
“No.”
“Nagito, I don’t want to move you myself again, come on.”
“I’m sleeping,” Komaeda pouted, like he was a child, “and to sleep I need my pillow. Which happens to be Hajime’s wonderful, massive pecs. You wanting to deprive me of that means you hate me and want me to die.”
Hajime, who wasn’t all that sure of what kind of logic brought him to that conclusion, decided it was better if he didn’t lose his mind over this today.
He kept on swatting at his skin carefully. Nagito shook his head, tried to hold him as tight as he could when he still had only one fully functional arm, because Hajime had banned him from putting on his prosthetic when they were in bed.
“Nagito…” Hajime sighed, somewhat resigned. “We need to start sleeping in other positions.”
“No we do not.”
“We can’t possibly do this every morning, bubs.”
“Yes we can. Shut up forever.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“Pity.”
Hajime sighed. Heavily. If he was correct, they’d probably wasted about ten minutes bickering already. He grimaced, still bringing one hand up to caress the soft cloud of white that crowned his boyfriend’s head.
Komaeda nuzzled into the touch. He scooted closer if that were possible, leaned against Hajime’s hand like he were a pet asking for a caress. Komaeda often reminded him of a dog, anyway. The fully kind that is as playful as they can be irritated if not given what they want.
Yeah. That’s the kind of thoughts he got this early in the morning if he didn’t get out of bed soon enough.
“Nagito…” He tried again, “We need to get up.”
“No we do not…” Komaeda muttered, “It’s soooo early, Hajime…”
“It’s later than 6:30, for sure.”
“Aw. Pity. We’ll survive anyway.”
“Nagi…”
“Just five minutes…” Komaeda nuzzled his cheek against Hajime’s chest. “Hajime is so warm…”
Hajime sighed out. He caressed his head, kissed the top of it with a somewhat resigned smile.
“Just five.” He conceded, “Then we’re getting up.”
Komaeda tittered, hugged him tighter.
“Thank you, dear.”
“Hmhm.”
He focused on pressing kisses on whichever part of Komaeda's forehead he could properly reach. He brushed his lips wherever, truly, for it didn't matter as long as it was him he was kissing. Komaeda leaned into each touch, followed a trail up Hajime's neck and jaw until he could reach his lips.
Hajime's eyelids fluttered closed. He breathed in the scent that was so unmistakably Komaeda, something that would comfort him for days to no end, that would forever remind him he had a safe space, right here, being held in the arms of the man he loved.
Komaeda was the one to break contact. He stared at him for a few seconds, then scrunched up his nose.
“Blergh,” He stuck out his tongue. “Hajime has the most terrible morning breath.”
“I-I do not—!” Hajime's hand flew to his mouth. “Shut up—!”
“I'm being honest…” Komaeda sighed, “You should brush your teeth.”
“A little hard when someone won't move from on top of me.”
“That is completely unrelated.”
“Sure it is…” Hajime grumbled, and pulled him in for another kiss.
Despite his earlier complaints, Komaeda still melted into it, because he was hypocritical like that. He chased him, truly, sat a little more upright on his torso to kiss him better.
His hair was getting longer, Hajime noted when he threaded his fingers through it, it almost reached the lower side of his shoulders. He wondered if he'd like to cut them, or if he'd just prefer to keep them this way. He was handsome either way, he thought, no matter what he would decide to do with his beautiful body.
Either way, he pulled on it slightly to tilt his head correctly, which earned him a small hum of approval.
Their lips weren't moving all that much, truly, merely brushing on top of each other and occasionally deepening the contact for no more than five seconds, before going back to their slower tandem.
Hajime didn't mind. Komaeda’s eyes were closed, and there were instances where he'd go slightly still and seemed to doze off in the middle of a kiss. Hajime would help him stand upright, and he'd let out a soft laugh, pressing closer. Perhaps he was still quite sleepy, Hajime noted, and the thought of him falling asleep mid kiss was strangely adorable.
He let their lips separate and guided Komaeda's head back on his chest. The latter let out a yawn, embraced him completely.
Yeah, he was definitely being treated like a pillow. What a wonderful situation to be in when he had things to do outside.
“Baby…”
“Hmhm.”
“I really need to get up.”
“I said five minutes…”
“It's been seven.”
Komaeda huffed, “Of course you're counting.”
“If I didn't, you'd take full advantage and keep me in bed until noon.” He poked his forehead. “It's already late for me.”
“You're not even all that busy for today..”
“How do you know what I need to do?”
“I read your emails.”
“…Of course you did.”
“I—” He yawned, “I need to keep myself informed… for my Hajime…”
He was starting to doze off, nuzzling closer if possible, as if they weren't already squished close together. Hajime pressed a kiss on top of his head, caressed his cheek with the back of his knuckles.
“You're sleepy.”
“Mnnh..” He answered, coherently. Hajime chuckled.
“Let me get up, come on.” He tried, “I'll let you sleep in.”
“Nooo—” He dragged, squeezing his eyes tight, “I'm so comfortable…”
Hajime raised a brow. “You'll be comfortable in a big bed by yourself.”
“I'm at my most comfortability when I'm with my Hajime, however.”
He was not going to melt over that, he stated to himself. Nope. Not him. No sir. Not after five good years, seriously, he had some dignity left.
“I'll be back later,” He promised, “But if you could scoot over—”
Komaeda, in response, like the mature man he was, only climbed over so he could place his head under Hajime's chin, kisses the skin of his neck a few times, and yawned against him all at the same time. His legs and arms were on the mattress, but his torso was still well nestled on his stomach, right on top of Hajime's body.
In a nutshell, there was no way he was going to move. How great.
Hajime let out a sigh. He placed his arms back around Komaeda's body, still tried to poke him.
“Nagito…”
“Mhmh.”
“I really need to get up.”
“Humph.” Komaeda let out, “Do you really prefer work to cuddling me?”
“What, no, of course not, but —”
“Alright. Fine.” Komaeda pouted, all of the sudden, like he was possessed or something, and rolled over to his side, off from Hajime's body. “Go to work.”
Hajime blinked. He stared at him for a few moments, because this really did come out of fucking nowhere.
“Seriously?”
“Mhmh.” Komaeda hummed. “Go.”
“Nagito…”
“No, truly, it's okay!” He turned his head around just enough to flash him a smile, “I guess I'll just freeze!”
“…What.”
“Hajime kept me warm,” He said, “But if he goes away, I'll freeze. Since he's insisting this much, I guess he just hates me and wants me to freeze to death!”
Hajime faltered. Of course he would say that.
“H-Hey—!” He protested, “Of course I don't —”
“No, no, I get it!” He nodded to himself, hugging his own arm, “I'm so unlikable that my forever lover wants me to die. That was to be expected…”
“Nagito.”
“It's okay, truly! Go to work since you care about it more than me!”
Hajime let out a groan. He grabbed his own face, let himself despair for about three seconds.
He then let his hands fall, and not so reluctantly scooted over to hug him, chest against Komaeda's back. He let out a sigh, kissed the back of his neck.
“Of course I don't want to, idiot.” He grumbled, “You're so dramatic.”
“I'm not! I'm being honest.”
“Yeah, sure.” He rolled his eyes. “Fine, you big baby. I'll stay.”
It was immediate, the way Komaeda turned around. He opened legs and arms wide so he could leech onto Hajime's body and wrap his limbs around it as soon as they were facing each other, holding him as tight as he could manage in such an awkward position.
Hajime sighed, rolled his eyes fondly. He hugged him back, kissing his cheek.
“Ten minutes, okay?” He mumbled, “And then we'll get up.”
“Hmhm.” Komaeda closed his eyes. “Whatever Hajime wants..."
"Sure."
"I love you."
"Love you too." Hajime still smiled, and closed his eyes.
He ended up, indeed, missing that phone call.