Summary: Kris is on wake up duty, but Luhan has something that works better than the alarm.
A/N: If this were any better written I would dedicate it to Jess fOR OUR RECIPROCAL SCREAMINGS
((also you can imagine this as panini!au because i might have at some places))
|It’s seven in the morning when Kris stirs awake in the dim light. He blinks a few times, clearing his vision, before he’s greeted with a face full of Luhan sound asleep barely half a foot from him. It’s not that pleasant, to wake up to a hard thud in your ribcage like a hammer coming down, and Kris’ nerves jolt awake while the rest of his body seems to reject the signal.
Luhan’s warm and breathing and alive in the other half of the bed. His hair’s wild, tossed salad wild, which reminds Kris that he did indeed vaguely remember being woken up twice last night, once from their new cat’s usual nightly snuggling routine (which he’s slowly starting to get used to), and once more from Luhan thrashing in his sleep. He was sure at one point he got kicked in the ribs, Luhan having dialed himself southwards, but here he is in the morning, back in place again.
Kris wants to let Luhan sleep, wants to watch him sleep, but something at his feet stirs--the cat, it turns out, hopping off and leaving to God knows where, and Kris is reminded that they both have schedules to tend to. Ever since they’ve moved in together, there’s not been once when Luhan had woken up on time. Keeping a schedule, that’s Kris’ job. Appeasing this morning hater, that’s Kris’ job. When Luhan’s in this half conscious state, which is usually how he gets after an alarm he sort of catches in his subconscious, the first few layers of sleep are stripped and you get this heaven’s creation, this lump of molten lava that suddenly tastes and feels like cotton candy. This kind of Luhan, the kind that’s not constantly picking on him or shying away when Kris gets too unprecedentedly close, this is what Kris lives for in the fifteen minutes of leeway he has been allowing every morning.
“Luhan,” he calls out softly, and they’re so close that he can physically see his breath blowing on a few pieces of Luhan’s red hair. Luhan doesn’t respond, so Kris calls louder this time, “Luhan,” and the reaction is instantaneous.
Luhan sucks in a sharp breath, brows furrowing together like a switch flipped, body coming into motion. Under the blanket he does a full body stretch backwards. Kris watches the muscles in his neck pull beautifully. “Nnnmphgh.” He’s whiny, and he still won’t open his eyes. A second later he peels himself away from Kris, withdraws from their tangled arms and flips to the other side, dragging kris until they’re spooning, Kris’ arm wound around his waist.
It’s not what Kris wanted exactly, but he forgets about it when Luhan, still clutching his big hand, starts to uncurl his fist and combs his fingers apart, little hand gripping tightly around his pinky and fourth finger. For no reason, Luhan lets out a long mumble again, and Kris doesn’t stop himself from laughing, huffing a breath through his nose.
“Luhan,” he calls. Luhan doesn’t even bother to react, maybe back to sleep again. “Luhan,” he kisses the white patch of skin behind his ear. “Luhan, Luhan, Luhan,” on his neck, down his neck, right on his collar tan line. Slowly, Luhan starts to fall even more still than before, and Kris would kiss him all over except then the whole routine wouldn’t be worth it.
He pulls away at once, and with a hand on Luhan’s hip flips him onto his back. Luhan comes back to Earth again.
“We gotta wake up now, Lu.”
“Nnnnoo.” The n is drawn out, and it doesn’t sound much like a word anyway, like his lips are stuck together and he can’t open them. The sun from this angle is right in Luhan’s eyes, even with Kris hovering inches above him, so he blinks like mad. It’s a bad sign, so Kris puts a hand up over the direction of the window, blocking the light. He needs to preserve this. Luhan stills and Kris smiles so wide it looks sinister.
“How much d’you love me?”
“How much do you love me?”
"I...five," after barely a moment Luhan says. Kris’ eyes bulge wide. Yesterday when he’d asked, Luhan had said “this much”, without ever specifying how much this was, so today’s...an improvement. At least he gave a value to his affections this time, even though Kris doesn’t know what that’s in ratio to. Still, his grin just gets wider.
“What’s two plus three?”
“How many toes do you have?”
“Are you sure?”
Luhan starts to open his eyes, and Kris doesn’t stop him. When he’s rubbed the discharge away, he looks around, lifting his torso off the body without even acknowledging Kris, who gets a face full of Luhan’s hair. It smells like their bed, by amplified. It makes their bed smell uniquely like their bed. Kris asks are you sure again, and Luhan’s not even paying attention, looking for the phone, “mmhm...what time is it?”
“Seven fifteen,” Kris says, pushing gently on Luhan’s chest until he’s down again, and it’s like Luhan just noticed the situation they’re in for the first time that morning. His arms are folded midair, and he stares right up at Kris, propped up right above him, smiling down like he’d done something bad.
The room is still. Dust flies about, lit up by the light from the windows. The phone Kris pressed to Luhan’s chest slides off the soft fabric of his tshirt.
Luhan’s staring right at him, eyes wide and watery. All of a sudden Kris doesn’t know what the fuck to do, holding himself up with arms growing quickly sore. It occurs to him that this never happened before because most of the time, Luhan would get fed up with his shit as soon as he actually wakes up and shove him off, but this time he’s so quiet, lying still like he’s waiting for something further to happen. Kris doesn’t know the next step. He hadn’t planned this far.
Before he comes up with something, Luhan saves him by pulling him right down at the neck, and their lips meet almost painfully, teeth clattering together. Luhan’s mouth tastes kind of gross because he always refuses to use the toothpaste Kris recommends which keeps you from morning breath, but Kris thinks it doesn’t really matter because he willingly puts his mouth on dirtier places anyway. Though, it’s not really time to think about putting his mouth on Luhan right now, in the honest light of morning, with Luhan warm and soft and eager, they hadn’t done this in a while...but the second alarm goes off just then, 7:20, and Kris is hurriedly flipping the phone to silence it, hoping Luhan’s too into the tongueing to miss it, hoping he could keep this a little longer. He doesn’t though, alas. Luhan’s eyes open, and Kris pulls back before they both go cross eyed, and with one look Kris knows that Luhan knows. “I have to catch my--”
Yeah, as soon as this is out, Kris knows what to do all of a sudden. He captures Luhan’s mouth and swallows his words. He takes his breath so he can’t say them again or finish the scary sentence. Caress his neck, stroke his hair, Kris’ll do that. Kris is cheating so tactlessly but Luhan’s dumb too because he falls for it, eyes falling shut, throat vibrating with a moan here or there. At least until he lifts a leg and pretty much stomps down on Kris’ balls, sending him instantly tumbling off the end of the bed, falling with a loud thunk and loud cry onto the hard floorboards.
Kris lies on the floor with one hand shielded over his (rapidly tearing) eyes, another cradling his abused package, curled something close to fetal. Luhan moves, and through the cracks in his fingers, he sees Luhan peering over the edge of the mattress at him, chin rested on his folded arms. Kris takes away his hand. In a moment of extreme self pity and depracation (“why did I marry this guy”), he wants Luhan to see how bad he’s ruined him. All he sees though through his pooling tears is Luhan grinning down at him sweetly.
“Five toes,” he sings, eyes thinning into a crescent, crinkling.
One tear escapes out the corner of Kris’ wide, wide eyes. Luhan beams.
He gets off from the edge of the bed, slipping his feet into fuzzy slippers. While he does, their cat, which Kris had thought already left the crime scene earlier on, comes over from behind him and sits beside his head, facing the other way, cleaning its paws.
“Don’t fuck with me, ‘k honey?” is the last thing Kris hears, before Luhan’s dragging his feet out the bedroom, banging the door behind him, leaving to catch his HIMYM episode airing in five minutes.
a/n2: going through a bit of a writing crash atm, so imma hafta put a few things on hold. sorry bubbies ))':