☆ Roommates | Kuma
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pairing: k x fuma. wordcount: 0.8k. genre: fluff, lots of feelings, they were roommates. warnings: lowercase intended. drunk!k, sharing a bed. an: my first post :D yay! i hope you like it. this is a rewrite of a kariselle drabble that i posted on ao3 before. so if you know me from there, say hi :)
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“fuma.”
fuma groans as he pulls his comforter over his head and buries his face into the pillow. it’s late, really late, and he’d just been on the edge of a peaceful sleep after staying up too late working on his language practice session. don't judge him, we know it’s a saturday night and there were better things he could’ve been doing, like being out wherever his roommate had been. but fuma likes to get his work out of the way first and not stress out over what's to come at 10 pm on sunday night. like a certain someone he knows would in a few hours from now.
“fumaaa~”
this time, his name is dragged out in a whine and his shoulder is shaken in stubborn, short jerks. kei pulls fuma’s comforter away from his face, making the latter’s eyes snap reluctantly open as he takes a moment to focus in on kei’s hovering face in the dark.
“what?” fuma whisper-shouts. but kei doesn’t look even the least bit regretful. instead, his drunk-flushed face breaks into a goofy grin as he rests his chin on fuma’s mattress.
“hi,” kei giggles, eyes squinting as he smiles. fuma groans, turning his head back into his pillow.
“go to bed, kei hyung.”
“nooo,” kei whines, poking fuma in the ribs several times until he is squirming.
“then leave me alone!”
he squints his eyes and can see kei still pouting at him, even in the darkness. he waits, but kei doesn’t budge, staring at him with eyes big, shining like a puppy’s.
“you’re drunk,” fuma whispers, accusingly, and kei shakes his head firmly — and then loses balance, causing him to tip to the right, arm flailing as he tries to find the edge of the bed to hold onto.
“nope,” he insists, popping the p sound. he blinks quickly before settling his warm cheek against fuma’s sheet again. “juss~ a little tipsy.” he blinks again and then laughs. “’m not totally drunk.”
“which is why you should go to bed and let me sleep,” fuma says patiently, enunciating each word carefully as if he was talking to a child. kei sighs as he slides off fuma’s bed and stands on wobbly feet. fuma gives a small nod, satisfied, and then turns to face the wall, pulling his comforter up to his shoulder comfortably. he did not come all the way from shizuoka to babysit drunk people, even if said drunk hyung's pouting lips and blinking eyes are ridiculously endearing. fuma does strain a bit to hear though, just in case kei faceplants himself on the way to his bed (which was literally across the room) or does something equally ridiculous in his drunken state.
what he didn't expect is his bed beginning to dip as kei tries to lie beside him.
fuma turns abruptly, hissing, “what are you doing?” that makes kei pause with a pout.
“going to bed,” kei replies matter-of-factly before shuffling closer and then flopping onto his side, pressed up close to fuma in the tiny twin bed that’s a staple for dorm rooms.
“this is my bed, and i’m pretty sure you’re still wearing your shoes!”
“stop being so loooud,” kei complains, burying the side of his face in fuma’s pillow. “an ‘m not, i know ‘s a rule. don’t walk in our room with the shoes on, i know fumaaa,” kei giggles and leans closer, bumping his forehead against fuma’s cheek. fuma closes his eyes, counts to ten, and reminds himself to breathe and not to think about stupid things like how fast his heart is beating or how soft kei’s bangs felt against his cheek or how his pillows are going to smell like kei and his shampoo, oh god.
“do you think —”
“hyung, please just — go to bed, okay?” fuma pauses. “in your own bed.”
“but i like it hereee” kei wiggles around until he is working his way under the covers and fuma freezes as their legs brush — he didn’t even realize kei had taken off his pants and oh god, he’s going to pass out. “you’re so warm and cozy.” kei drapes his arm lazily over fuma’s waist.
“kei hyung.” fuma’s voice comes out strangled and high, given their unusually close proximity but mainly due to the fact that kei chooses that exact moment to nuzzle his nose against fuma’s neck.
“you are the bestest member ever,” kei sighs, sleepily. "the nicest, cuddliest, warmest, best sexiest member" he mumbles as sleep blankets him and fuma’s heart freezes again.
sexiest?
“sexiest?” he asks before his dumb brain can stop himself, but kei just hums and nods in agreement. that’s… umm, new.
“so sexy,” kei says with a yawn, slotting their bare knees together. “‘night, fufu.”
fuma blinks up at the dark ceiling, mouth hanging open slightly, and unsure what to do with his ridiculously attractive, and ridiculously drunk, roommate (that he's ridiculously attracted to) suddenly asleep and wrapped around him like a koala.
“umm… goodnight, hyung.”
sharing a bed together with his roommate who was drunk won't hurt, right?
fuma's only tolerating it tonight... just this one night.