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English
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2017-01-11
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1/1
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Restless

Summary:

“What the hell are you doing?” Your roommate asks from behind you, their voice still groggy and soft from sleep. You let out a short, breathy chuckle to yourself at the prospect of having been caught. You turn to face him with a guilty smile.

“Practicing?” You answer.

(In which you can't sleep and John gets pissed, but not really because he's a softie, and a saint.)

Notes:

originally posted to my tumblr!!: http://damnara-megido.tumblr.com/post/155125252195/restless-john-egbert-x-reader

Work Text:

3:04 AM

Time seemed to blur together in an agonizingly slow march to morning. That night it seemed like everything had spiteful intentions towards you, and you couldn’t for the life of you fall asleep for more than ten minutes at a time. You roll over, adjust the pillow you were laying on, groan, (silently as to not wake your roommate) turn onto your back, your stomach, pull the covers up over your head, push them off entirely, turn to your back again, check the time once more.

3:06

“Ugh,” You mutter to yourself just above a whisper. Letting out a sigh, and propping your chin up on your palm, you begin to think to yourself. After a good minute or so, you slide your face down so your forehead was now the one resting in your palm, and return to thinking. Eventually your thinking bares some sort of fruit, and you mutter to yourself “Fuck it.” before sliding out of bed and making your way to the closet in the hallway.
Very deliberately, you open the closet door, and pull out a towel from one of the shelves. You cringe as the closet door creaks ever so slightly as you shut it, but are thankful you don’t hear any rustling from your roommate’s room directly next door. Just to be sure, though, you pause for a moment, leaning in closer to their door. If you listened very closely you could hear their soft snores through the door, but thankfully that was all.

You made your way back to your bedroom, a wide-set grin across your face as you sat at the piano keyboard in the corner. Folding the towel in half and laying it over the speakers at the top, you silently pray that this works once again, and you pop your knuckles, placing them over the ivory keys.

A smile played on your face once again as you thought over all of the songs you’ve been taught, before finally deciding on one.

Your fingers grazed the keys, looking for the right ones to play, and once you found them, the rest flowed fairly easily. Your fingers, though hesitant at times, danced across the keys for the majority of what you knew of the song. You hesitated for another moment, glancing at the keys in search of the correct ones to play, but before you could find them a voice interrupted your playing.

“What the hell are you doing?” Your roommate asks from behind you, their voice still groggy and soft from sleep. You let out a short, breathy chuckle to yourself at the prospect of having been caught. You turn to face him with a guilty smile.

“Practicing?” You answer.

They let out a sigh, and you take this time to get in a good look at them. The first thing you notice being that his glasses were off; presumably left in his room when he heard piano playing at this ungodly hour of the morning.

Your eyes made their way up to his unruly mess of black hair. Though he normally styled it to look disheveled, it was exceptionally messy. This, you decided, was because he couldn’t sleep either. (which was technically your fault, but hey) His arms were folded over the symbol of his slimer t-shirt, though you don’t think he was as mad as he tried to make himself seem he was. Grey sweatpants covered his legs, though stopped above the ankles as his legs were too long for them now. You assumed that those sweatpants were one of the many items he’s had since he was fifteen or sixteen, and was too stubborn to finally get rid of. Your eyes flicked back up, and locked with his own. His own steel blue eyes looked just as restless as yours, with the faintest hint of dark circles beneath them.
He furrowed his brow upon locking with eyes with yours, and broke his gaze only for a moment to glance at your clock.

“At three in the morning?” He asks after clearing his throat a bit. You glance over to your clock as well.

3:22

“Yeah,” You sigh, dropping your gaze from his eyes to your palms, which now lay folded in your lap. “I put a towel over the speakers.” You added with a shrug.

“It didn’t help all that much.”

“Whoops.” You mumbled.

“Why?”

“‘Why’ what?”

“Why are you practicing at three AM?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You answer with another shrug.

“Four nights in a row, huh?"

“You heard me the other three nights.” It’s more of a statement than a question, really.

“Yeah, I could usually sleep through it, though.” He says, sort of laughing to himself about it. You stand up from the bench and step in front of him, locking his gaze once more.

“Look, dude, I’m sorry I’ve woken you up for four nights in a row, and if you want me to stop, then I will. It’s not a problem. I shouldn’t be trying to practice at three in the goddamn morning, anyways. I’ll go get a bowl of cereal, like everyone else does when they wake up at midnight. I just get bored easily.” You explained rapidly. His eyes bore into you, even after you broke his gaze. “I’m sorry.” You mumbled once more.

“Hmm…” He mutters to himself before picking you up by the waist and tossing you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing.

“John-” You screech.

“Grab a pillow.”

“What?”

“Get a pillow. Off of your bed. Hurry.”

“Why? What are you doing? Can you put me do-”

“You’re sleeping with me tonight.”

“What?”

“Yeah, so get a pillow.”

“Why am I-”

“Okay, fine, share my pillows, but don’t complain about it.” He interrupts you, already walking out your bedroom door and towards his.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I don’t see a problem with it. You’ve slept in my bed before, so It’s not weird, is it?”

“I guess not…” You answer.

“Right, so if you can’t sleep on your own, and I can’t sleep on my own, then why would you not sleep with me?” He asks, turning the knob to his door and opening it. Your attempts to look around his room are in vain with how dark it is, but you presume that it’s freakishly orderly, in the same way that John is. This presumption is confirmed by the fact that he doesn’t trip or step on anything in the short walk from the door to his bed.

“You left my lights on.” You remind him.

“What?”

“The lights. To my bedroom. You left them on.”

“Oh. Well it’s too late for that, now do you want the inside or the outside of the bed?” He asks you, cautiously setting you down at the edge of his matress.

“Inside, please.” You respond, scooting closer to the middle so he has room to lay down.

“Good, because I wanted the outside. Just don’t push me off the bed, alright?”

“Okay, and when our electricity bill for this month is higher than Snoop Dogg, I’m blaming you.” You retort, laying down and covering yourself with John’s blankets.

“Fine. Give me your phone, so I can charge it.” He mumbled, shifting his weight and trying to get comfortable.

“Fine.” You yawn, pulling your phone out of the pocket of your pajama pants and placing it on his chest.

“Thank you.” He responded, voice laced with sarcasm.

“You’re welcome.” You scoffed.

"Good night.” He said, sarcasm gone. You could almost hear the smile in his voice this time around. You rolled to your side to look at him.

“Good night, John.” You muttered, shutting your eyes.

But of course even that wasn’t good enough.

You very carefully reach over a sleeping John for your phone. You check the time.

3:41

You scoff to yourself and roll your eyes as far back as you can.

“Still can’t sleep?” He asks, head tilted to look at you. You groan, shoving your face back down into the pillow.

“No.” You grumbled, propping yourself back up on your elbows.

“Me either..." You let out a frustrated groan and flopped back down on the bed. "Hey, that’s okay. C'mere.” He mumbled. Slowly, John wraps both of his arms around your form, bringing you back into a laying position, and pulling you close to his chest. Letting out one last sigh, you shift so that you were on your side, with your head was resting in the crook of his neck. He smiled to himself and whispers to you “Is that better?”

“Yeah, actually. Much better.” You whisper back. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

“Oh, and John?”

“Yeah?”

You craned your neck upwards and planted a long, sweet kiss to his left cheek.

“Thank you for everything.”

Your lips left a pleasant tingling feeling in their wake, and brought him to blush profusely, though this all went unnoticed by you, as you began to drift asleep.

“Yeah, no problem, (name). Good night.”

“Good night.” You replied before sleep overtook you.