Ran pulled the pillow tightly around his head, trying to drown out the voice of the man beside him who couldn’t seem to understand that it was now time to shut up and go to sleep. They had the first shift in the shop tomorrow after all. He would never understand the man’s need for a post-coital smoke. Or two. Or three. Neither did he understand the man’s love affair with American music which he always insisted on singing.
As Yohji broke into the chorus of the Door’s Light My Fire, Ran winced. Any other time he would love to hear the blond sing. His voice was liquid sex that always had a way of permeating even his foulest moods as it flowed straight through his veins and down to his groin. Unfortunately, Yohji’s command of the English language wasn’t the best and at the moment he was nearly butchering the song the redhead could almost hear beneath his boyfriend’s caterwauling.
Clutching the pillow, he pulled it out from under his head and burrowed beneath it instead, hoping beyond hope to finally stifle the worst of the noise. It occurred to him, briefly, that he could use the pillow to smother Yohji, but then he’d have to explain the man’s dead body to Aya-chan and the others. They’d never understand how he could have murdered the man he loved because he was loud and obnoxious. He was always loud and obnoxious, they would point out.
The song ended and the room went quiet. Ran sighed his relief and let his body relax, thinking the ordeal over. His respite was short-lived; Yohji lit another cigarette and hit repeat on the CD’s remote. Ran’s nightly hell began again.
To his credit, he made it through five repetitions of the song, more than he ever had before. Yohji was about to cue up the sixth, another as yet unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, when Ran emerged from beneath the pillow and threw it at the blond with enough force to make him lift a hand in defense.
“Enough you bastard! You win. Take the damn thing,” Ran seethed, glaring back at the smug man sharing the bed.
“I always win. You know I do. Besides, I sleep better on the goose down pillow,” replied Yohji, tucking said pillow behind him as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and put it back into its pack. After using the remote to turn off the CD, he settled his head onto the pillow with a contented sigh and pulled up the covers.
Ran started his mental count to ten. He got to four when Yohji softly spoke again. “You know I won’t get to sleep if you don’t come over here and curl up against me. It’s cold.” With a sigh of exasperation, he scooted over to the blond’s side, pressing his warmth against him and resting his own head on the man’s chest, listening to the comforting cadence of his beating heart. Closing his eyes, Ran let out a slow breath and relaxed, letting sleep spill slowly over him.
Slumber had nearly claimed him when he heard Yohji murmur against his hair, “I’m a better pillow anyway, aren’t I, love?” Then he fell quiet, the sound of his deep, even breaths reaching Ran’s ears a moment later.
And Ran smiled.