Isak, right now, can’t sleep. It’s one of those weird things that comes back from his past to haunt him sometimes. And not for any reason, either, he’s not stressed about anything now. He’s the happiest he remembers being, in fact, he’s just moved in with his boyfriend, and although there’s one or two (okay, several) boxes that still need unpacking, they mostly have the place sorted.
He just, for some reason, can’t sleep.
Maybe he’s in the wrong position – currently he’s lying on his back, staring up at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling that Even insisted that they needed, and insisted that Isak should arrange them into exact constellations – even though there’s billions of stars in the night sky, Even, and we have twenty-three pieces of plastic to work with. Isak chose a couple of constellations anyway, and tried to recreate them to the best of his ability. He got a kiss on the cheek after he was done, as a reward, and that wasn’t enough, Even, I worked my ass off just now, so maybe he managed to get a bit more of a reward out of it.
Even is sleeping soundly next to him, and Isak huffs a secret laugh, like he does every time he sees him sleeping because what happened to “I never sleep, ‘cause sleep is the cousin to death,” Even? Isak loves it, anyway, he loves seeing Even so peaceful, and calm, and knowing that this is their bed now, not just one of theirs that they’re both sharing for the night. It’s their bed in their apartment, and they’re together, and it’s only been six months that they’ve known each other, but God, it feels like it could have been forever. It feels so right, so perfect, with Even by his side.
Maybe it’s this sappy shit that’s keeping him awake. Himself before he met Even would hate himself now.
He turns on his side, facing towards Even and only just managing to stop himself from reaching out and touching him – Even is a light sleeper, he doesn’t want to wake him up for something as pathetic as I can’t sleep and I think you’re beautiful. He lets himself stare, though. He never can get enough of staring, Even’s jaw, his lips, his hair, and his eyes, which are now opening slowly, even without Isak touching him.
“Did I wake you?” Isak whispers, worried, “I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t mean-“
Even doesn’t speak, but shakes his head and brings a hand up to put a finger on Isak’s lips.
“Can’t sleep?” he murmurs, concern filtering through his tired voice.
Isak shrugs, or tries to. It’s difficult when he’s lying on his side. “Just admiring you instead. Is that allowed?”
Even grins, but tries to sound serious. “What are you thinking about?”
Even raises an eyebrow. “You know, me keeping you awake is meant to be reserved for more exciting reasons.”
Isak giggles softly and buries his head in Even’s chest. “No,” he mumbles into Even’s skin, “I’m too tired.”
“Then why aren’t you sleeping?”
“I need more cuddles.” To prove his point, Isak wriggles even closer into Even’s body. Even obligingly brings both arms to wrap around Isak, and presses a kiss into his hair.
“There you go, then. Is that better?”
Isak is already dropping off when he hums in approval.
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