i love you. [a devereux] (Patreon)

synopsis: sleepy nights with A and the hunter.

A works a lot. Arguably too much. They slack off from time to time of course, but when they get into something, they hyperfixate on it. Like, focus on it for hours non-stop without pausing for breaks hyperfixtate.

It’s exactly what they’re doing right now. Hunched over their desk, the light dim and bent so close to their papers that they’ve nearly caught on fire at least twice, A squints. Whatever scribbles they’ve written over the last little while have gotten more and more illegible. They’d switch to their laptop but getting thoughts out on paper is more useful to them.

They’ll decipher the notes one day. Even if it requires the damn Rosetta Stone.

They’re so focused on their work that they don’t even hear you come in.

“You’re still up?”

A turns, taking in the sight of you in your pyjamas, hand over your eyes trying to shield them from the harsh light. You look like you just woke up. Cute. Very cute. A doesn’t think there will ever be a time when they won’t find you attractive.

“So are you,” A points out.

“The bed was cold.”

“Oh.”

Guilt trickles into A’s heart. They frown, feeling a crease form on their forehead. They promised to be in bed by midnight—to get their full eight hours of sleep if anything—but they don’t need to look at the clock to know it’s past then. Much past.

You step into the room, eyes adjusting. A doesn’t say anything as you walk over to their desk, hands folding over their shoulders as you lean over them.

“You can do this tomorrow. It’ll still be here.” Your voice, like always, is soothing, one that has the power to lull A to sleep. They can feel your hot breath on their ear. They lean into the back of their chair, lean into you, eyes fluttering shut.

Still, they can’t help but protest.

“I’m almost done.”

You shake your head, pressing a light kiss to A’s cheek. Their skin warms up immediately. “That’s what you’ve been saying for the last two nights. You’ll say it tomorrow too. I know you. You’re not going to finish that tonight.”

A sighs. They know you’re right, but it doesn’t make them any happier.

“Come to bed,” you urge. “I promise you’ll feel better. You need to rest. The more rest you get, the more energy you’ll have to work on it tomorrow.”

A has always been stubborn, but a lot of that melts away when it’s you. It’s always you. Anyone else and A might have stayed here the rest of the night, falling asleep on their desk as they accidentally smeared all their ink. But because it’s you, they’re actually willing to leave.

“You have to warm me up though,” A mumbles. You grab one of their hands, fingers interlacing like they have dozens of times before.

“You’re the one who owes me that.”

A doesn’t have time to respond before you’re gently pulling them out of their seat. Their back is screaming in pain because of how long they’ve been stuck in that position, something you notice and respond to with a pointed look.

You reach over and flick the switch to A’s lamp, turning it off and bathing the room in darkness. A can’t see, but they know the layout of your shared apartment like the back of their hand.

You tug them lightly as you guide them out of the room and down the hall. There are nightlights here—mostly because A always needs a late-night snack and had stumbled to the kitchen too many times prior to their installation—so it’s easier to see where you’re going.

The two of you make a left as you enter the bedroom, the door shutting quietly once you’re both inside. But even though you’re here, you don’t let go of A’s hand, pulling them towards the bed and then onto it.

The moment they hit the soft cushion, A sighs in relief. “So comfy.”

“I told you.”

You settle into the bed as A snuggles into the blankets, draping it over you when you’re laying down. You smile at that, a smile so bright they can see it even in the dark.

Though you spent time trying to convince A to come here, you don’t say anything—and neither do they. The two of you face each other, heads on pillows and eyes slowly closing. Sleep threatens to take A, but they manage to stay awake long enough to admire you. To trace your features with their eyes and marvel at how lucky they are.

“You’re my best friend, you know that?” A whispers. Even though you’re dating, A hasn’t stopped saying that. It’ll always be true. Platonically or romantically, you will always be the one A runs to. Their forever person.

You open your eyes. “And you’re mine.”

For A, the words mean more than an I love you.