Fingers typed loudly and furiously at the keyboard, the sound of ‘click-clack’ filling the air conditioned room as Haruichi focused on the screen in front of him. His face looked pale while his eyes looked red, earning him an almost terrifying expression if one took into account his unusual pink hair. That, and the man currently clinging to his back, snoring away.
It had been three days. Three agonizing, painful, sleepless days, in which Haruichi tried to finish all his papers that have, unsurprisingly, piled upon him. It wasn’t that he was a slacker - in fact, he was quite the opposite of it. But college hits even the most prepared person like no other, and baseball practices take a lot of his time.
Having Satoru here was a comfort, at least. He didn’t usually talk much and would often just lean on Haruichi, or give him a blanket, or offer silent support - all the things Haruichi needed to cope. Well. A man’s got to have his guilty pleasure, right?
Satoru slumped down further on Haruichi.
“Furuya-kun, you might want to sleep on the couch, I’m sure it’s more comfortable than my back,” said Haruichi, not taking his eyes off the screen nor his fingers off the keyboard. He felt Satoru shake his head and adjust his position in a decidedly more comfortable way, and felt the urge to smile. Sleep deprived as Haruichi was, he was loath to admit that Satoru sleeping against him invigorated him.
Haruichi breathed and closed his eyes, mentally counting to ten, before leaning over and reaching the last cup of espresso that he had managed to order. Just as he was about to sip from the caffeine goodness that he craved, familiar arms circled around his waist without warning, eliciting a yelp from Haruichi. Surprised, and blushing pink (whether it’s aggravation or embarrassment, one might never know), Haruichi accidentally jostled the cup and tipped it over, letting the brewed coffee fall on his lips, dripping past his neck, and soaking his shirt.
“Fuck,” was the uncharacteristic exclamation, followed by an irritated, “Furuya-kun! I haven’t slept in three days and I spent my last cash on that coffee, and now you’ve gone and spilled it, ugh, it burns, wait, wait, wait what are you doing--”
Haruichi was cut off by suddenly being turned around and, another surprise, his chin was being peppered by tiny kisses coming from the other man, the soft coolness of the lips a welcome relief from the previous burn of the spilled coffee. Satoru proceeded to kiss his way down to Haruichi’s neck, and only when Haruichi was starting to get dazed by the sudden attack did Satoru stop.
“Sorry,” mumbled Satoru, nuzzling Haruichi’s neck once more. “I didn’t know you were going to drink coffee. Forgive me?” He looked at Haruichi with those eyes and damn, okay, Haruichi is a cruel, cruel man. Why did he even get angry at Satoru?
“That’s fine,” and it was, really. Haruichi dimpled a smile at Satoru, and now, was not the least bit surprised when Satoru smiled back and captured Haruichi’s lips in a coffee-stained kiss.
