2:47 am, vernon c.
genres &&. warnings — timestamp, fluff, established relationship &&. lapslock intended, vernon being a sweetheart.
word count — 1.1k
you’re woken up rather gently, as though the person brushing soft hands against you is intentionally trying to keep you in dreamland. of course, you don’t even need to open your eyes to know who it is because you have him mapped down to the callouses of his fingertips and the faded scent of the cologne he put on this morning before he left (not to mention he’s the only person who has the spare key to your apartment).
“vernon…?” you ask quietly, drawing in a breath to yawn. you stretch deeply and notice the weight and feel of the fabric of the duvet over your legs where it hadn’t been when you’d fallen asleep a while ago.
“hey, baby.” vernon’s voice is quiet and his breath is warm on your face, a physical manifestation of his words.
when you open your eyes, he’s knelt beside the bed, using one arm as a cushion for his chin while the other strokes gentle lines over your cheek, his palm warm and threatening to lull you back to sleep.
“what time is it?”
“almost three am. what time did you go to sleep?”
you shrug as best you can with one of your shoulders pressed into the mattress. “only about an hour or so ago i think. i was waiting for you to come home, but i guess i fell asleep.”
vernon’s sigh is quiet with something akin to remorse. his fingers press a little tighter into your cheek like he’s trying to physically convey whatever it is he’s feeling. “i meant to come home a lot earlier, but the guys wanted to stay out later than planned and someone had to help get them home. if hoshi hadn’t been requiring constant supervision, i would have let you know.”
you shake your head, doing your best to lean your cheek into his palm. vernon was always good about messaging you when plans changed or something happened, so while you’d been a little anxious when he didn’t text you that he was heading home, you figured it had been for a good reason; and, as expected, a drunk hoshi was always a good reason.
“it’s okay,” you whisper, letting your eyes fall shut, reveling in the rough warmth of vernon’s hand against you, thumb still painting those hypnotically comforting lines into you. “i guessed something came up, so i wasn’t too worried.”
you hear him let out an exhale that doubles as a laugh, that breathy chuckle of his. “were you planning on falling asleep? when i walked in, your phone was playing a random youtube video and you weren’t even under the covers.”
he laughs again when you shake your head and mumble “s’n accident. i really wanted to wait for you.” he mutters his own answer under his breath, something that sounds strangely like “so cute.”
silence settles over the two of you, broken only by the sound of your breath rustling the duvet cover and the soft brush of skin against skin. you’re not quite sure how much time passes, too focused on fighting off sleep to enjoy more time with your boyfriend because truthfully, you can never get enough time with him. alas, eventually his hand departs, leaving a chill in its wake, and when you whine a little, he leans forward to press his forehead to yours.
“i’ll be right back, ‘kay? i just need to get ready for bed. i’ll make it quick, promise.”
and his word is always his bond; if he promises something, he always follows through. again, you’re not sure how long vernon is away because you’re caught floating somewhere between total consciousness and temporary oblivion. but he does return at some point because the lights turn off and then, with all the gentleness possible in the world, he slides into bed next to you. he scoots in close, draping one arm around your waist and tucking his nose into the crook of your neck.
“you waiting for me to get back so you can finally go back to bed?” he asks, his voice already heavy and rough with sleep. his breath sinks through the thick cotton of his sweater you “borrowed” (see: stole) when you had gotten ready for bed earlier in the night and that alone lulls you closer to slumber’s welcoming embrace.
you hum quietly in assent, looping your arm over his and intertwining your fingers against your sternum. he presses in impossibly closer, not a single part of the back of you that goes untouched. it’s as if he can’t get close enough to you and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s simply feeling more affectionate than usual or there’s still a little bit of alcohol lingering in his system. but with the weight and warmth of him against you, you can’t even complain.
“well, ‘m here now, so go back to sleep, baby.”
his fingers flex around yours, squeezing tight into your palm before relaxing a little. a way to say “i love you” without vocalizing it. he’s out like a light almost immediately, his breathing slow and steady at the nape of your neck, but while you’re exhausted too, you stay awake long enough to notice that between the time vernon came home and the moment you woke up, he’d plugged your cellphone in to charge it, covered you with the duvet, taken off the hairband you’d had on your wrist, rearranged your pillows just the way you like.
it’s always the little things with him, things that only he remembers and responds to. out of every person you’ve been in a relationship with, it’s vernon who has shown you what love, real love, looks and feels like. just the thought of everything he did for you tonight in fifteen minutes of being home is enough to have your heart swelling with unadulterated adoration.
you tighten your fingers around his for just a moment, a reciprocal “i love you.” because how could you not love him when you were his first priority upon arriving home or when he holds you the way he’s holding you now, gentle and warm with his chest rising in shallow breaths against you.
you’ve discussed it before, the idea of being “it” for each other, but right now, as you’re finally allowing sleep to take over, you know with absolute certainty that he’s it. there is no other person on earth who could love you the way vernon does; this is what you want for the rest of your life, this is who you want to fall asleep and wake up with. it could never be anybody else.
© hoshologies 2023. do not translate, copy, or repost my work on any site.