STAY | HANMA SHUJI
mornings suck. forcing yourself to open your eyes sucks. peeling the comfortable covers off of your body sucks. making yourself sit up in bed sucks. slamming your hand on your alarm for he fifth time in a row sucks. the lecture you’re about to get ready for? you’re sure that’s going to suck the most.
you can feel the bed shift behind you as you swing your feet off the mattress, toes hitting the cold laminate. a yawn stretches your mouth open, the back of a hand reaches up to rub at your bleary eyes.
and a face presses into your back.
familiar hands follow it right after, sliding lazily and clumsily from your hips to where they settle around you, wrapping around your waist. you twist enough to see your boyfriend somewhat nuzzle into you, his lips pressing to the base of your spine through your shirt.
“no,” he mumbles—and his voice sounds sweetly agitated, like when you steal the last bite of his food or scold him for leaving his bloody rags on the sink.
“babe, i gotta,” you smile, because how could you not? his hair is a mess, lacking it’s normal gel that keeps it so well swept. now it splays messily around his face, his sleep flushed cheeks, wild at the top like an unruly crown. you shift to lift one leg back onto the bed, twisting more so that hanma’s cheek is resting against your hip. “my lecture starts in twenty minutes. i’m already gonna be late.”
“more reason to not go,” he says, fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt to thumb against your skin. his eyes are closed, like he’s still half asleep. then again he probably is. “better never than late, i always say.”
“yes and that,” you slide your hand down to his cheek to pinch it, “is why you are always getting in trouble.”
“when am i ever..” his words dwindle off, a deep exhale fanning against your hip, then he’s jerking back awake. “when am i ever in trouble?”
“just go back to sleep.” you laugh, trying to unwrap his arms from around you. it’s all for naught though, and you should really know better by now, because your actions only result in a disgruntled hanma dropping his head into your lap instead. giving him a better leverage to trap you.
“no.” he squeezes your waist as he says it, pouts into your stomach, and tries to pull you further back into bed the best he can in his compromised position.
“shuji,” you groan, glancing again to the alarm clock on the bedside table. “if i don’t leave now, i really will be late.”
“if you don’t leave, you can’t be late,” he reasons, stupidly smart for his sleep stricken self. “now shut up and come back.”
“if i never left, i can’t come back,” you retort, smirking at the grumbles that leave his lips at you using his own sarcasm against him. you try to peel his grip off of you again, attempting to coo him to a middle ground.
it’s only when you effectively remove one of his arms from around you, about to slide from your boyfriend’s grasp and make your escape, that he finally cracks his eyes open. his bangs hang in them, but that doesn’t stop their half lidded golden glory from making your heart skip as he looks up at you. if anything, it makes it worse.
“stop it. you’re being an asshole,” hanma huffs, ripping his arm out of your grasp in order to grab your wrist, stopping you from standing up from the mattress. his pout is less sweet now, deepened by the ghost of an irritated scowl. but it doesn’t look any less cute. “fuck your lecture. i want cuddles and i want sleep and i want you.”
he tugs at your wrist then, yanking down so that you have no choice but to follow and bend to his level, pulling you in until you’re mere millimeters apart. the shared breaths are nothing nice, morning breath on each of your tongues, but the flecks in hanma’s eyes seem to distract you from that.
“stay,” he breathes, lips a sliver of an inch away from brushing against yours, tone a half a step back from making you dizzy. a smile curls at his mouth, like he knows he’s going to win before you even give an answer. “yeah?”
and it’s annoying and unfair and you really needed to be at lecture this morning, but you throw all that away to surge forward and press your lips to shuji’s.
“yeah,” you mutter into his mouth as you pull away, a curse on the tip of your tongue at the instant stretch of a cheeky smirk that plays at hanma’s lips. he shifts back into his imprinted spot in bed and drags you with him, hardly giving you a chance to get comfortable before he’s burrowing his face into your neck. “i hope you know i hate you.”
“i hope you know i know you’re lying,” he quips, and you want nothing more than to smack the back of his head. you raise a hand to run your fingers along the hair at his nape instead.
“i’m pretty sure if i miss one more lecture i get a red flag on my record,” you sigh, dancing your fingers along hanma’s spine as he intertwines your legs together.
“then i’ll handle it,” hanma answers, pressing his lips to the side of your neck, then your collarbone, then just under your jaw. “i’ve killed for less.”
“are you really plotting to kill my prof for something that’s entirely your fault?”
it’s a quiet for a moment, then hanma hums.
“i mean—“
“oh my god just go to sleep,” you groan, but it quickly melts into a laugh as you shake your head at your boyfriend.
his sleepy smile presses into the skin of your neck, causing one of your own to curl your lips as you press them to his forehead in a half-assed kiss. he snuggles closer to you, clings harder like he thinks you’re still going to try to sneak out on him any second now, and it doesn’t take more than a minute before his even breaths are tickling your throat.
guess you’ll never know just how much lecture would suck today after all.
reblogs appreciated !
