wenrou drabble
▸ rou pov ▸ domestic fluff ▸ waxing poetic about his lover…♡
In the dim light of the still rising sun in their apartment is where Rou feels most at home. As strange as it may seem, there isn’t a sight more comforting to him than to shuffle into the entryway, stumble over misplaced sneakers, and see the stillness of his entire world. As if time were suspended.
There, within the perfect quiet of neat bookshelves snug with video games and dirtied mugs strewn about, past the hallway strung with fake leaves and the lingering smell of something fried lay his lone solace.
After he’s washed away the grime of the day and dried himself, Rou creeps toward a bed hardly suitable for two grown men. He breaches the sanctity of slumber, quiet as a mouse as he lowers himself onto his side, facing the man snoozing there carelessly, peacefully.
As the sun finally breaches the silver of open curtain in their room, Rou’s eyes study his lover in the pale morning light. His gaze traces over gentle curls of eyelashes and soft peach fuzz.
His lover, usually brazen, fiery, burning bright as a star in any other setting, is blissfully quiet when asleep. Entranced, Rou’s hands reach for him. He caresses a lock of soft pink hair, brushes it from a tan forehead. He holds his face in his hand, his world, and strokes his thumb over the white plaster over his cheek, wondering how he’s managed to hurt himself this time.
Rou imagines a stray splatter of hot oil hitting him, or their cat, Otomo, swiping angrily at a teasing Wen, and frowns at the thought of his blood being drawn.
Meticulously and tenderly, he follows every line of Wen’s sleeping face until his eyes begin to burn with fatigue and he’s all he can see anymore.
As his finger pulls to the apex of Wen’s bottom lip, his peace morphs into a frown. Rou huffs a quiet little laugh, like an inside joke between himself. The sight piercing through his heart, searing it to his memory.
He pulls his hand away, and Wen’s expression smooths back to serenity, finally free of his wandering touch.
As his already tired eyes fight his last resistance to unconsciousness, he sinks down from where he was propped up observing, and into Wen’s warmth.
The latter’s body tenses for a moment at the intruder on his chest before melting back into Rou, immediately wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. And suddenly he’s everything, he’s Rou’s entire world and all he’s ever known.
“Welcome home,” he mumbles drowsily against Rou’s forehead. His voice is quiet, hoarse with sleep, but it’s everything he wants to hear now and forever, the only true indication he is home. With another sigh, Wen’s gone again, soon to be followed by Rou, who has already succumbed to his eyelid’s incessant wishes.
Wen’s heartbeat pounds against his own, until they’ve become one unit, one breath. And Rou falls asleep.
