Chapter Text
Stay awake. Stay awake. Stay awake. Staaaaay awake. Awake. Those don't even sound like words anymore. Isn't a wake a funeral or something? That's stupid. Dead people are the opposite of awake, y'know. Wait, wasn't I doing something?
Tomoro's eyes snapped open as a loud clatter pulled him from his thoughts.
Oh. That.
Somehow, Tomoro had nodded off while standing up, dropping the dish he was supposed to be washing. Thankfully, it didn't break, but he did have to wash it again now.
Dish duty was already one of Tomoro's least favorite chores, and being tired out of his damn mind wasn't helping. It was Raito's fault (sort of). Normally he slept like a plank, quiet and unmoving, but last night he'd kept twitching and making weird little noises. He reminded Tomoro of a dog.
It was around five in the morning when Raito first woke Tomoro up, and six o'clock when Tomoro gave up trying to fall back asleep. He figured he'd get some cleaning done to surprise the others when they woke up, but evidently that wasn’t going so well. Thank goodness he hadn't tried to cook anything. Tomoro was about two seconds away from falling asleep again, when a pair of arms wrapped about his midsection from behind and kept him upright.
“Hmm? Oh. Morning, Raito,” Tomoro greeted.
“You left,” Raito grumbled.
“Yeah, and?”
“Don’t do that again.” Raito squeezed Tomoro tightly enough to make him wheeze slightly.
Despite how fun it would be to tease Raito about being clingy, Tomoro knew full well that he’d done the same thing before. He’d had a full blown panic attack that time he’d woken up to an empty bed, only to realize that Raito was still in their room, folding laundry on the floor. Who was he to judge?
“Okay. Sorry.” Tomoro leaned back, trusting Raito not to let him fall. He could really knock back out like this… “Whoa!”
Never-fucking-mind.
Without warning, Raito picked Tomoro up, causing him to instinctively kick his feet and squirm. Once the shock wore off, Tomoro calmed down and went still, but this still wasn’t quite the most comfortable way to be carried. He didn’t have to tolerate it long, fortunately. Raito plopped down on the couch, Tomoro landing in his lap. Raito nuzzled the back of Tomoro’s neck and sighed, his death grip on Tomoro’s waist finally relaxing.
Tomoro waited for Raito to say something. He assumed Raito would ask him why he left, if not scold him about leaving. Maybe give an explanation for why he’d felt the need to grab him and drag him over here instead of staying put and letting him finish the dishes. Instead of words, all Tomoro heard was the sound of Raito’s breath evening out.
“Oi, did you fall back asleep? Raito?” Unsurprisingly, Tomoro got no response. “Is he serious? Alright then…”
Choosing not to fight it, Tomoro shifted into a cozier position and shut his eyes. He was willing to pass out while standing up; he wasn’t going to say no to sleeping in his boyfriend’s lap. The two didn't get to rest peacefully together for long—elsewhere in the house, a certain pair of Digimon awoke in a panic when their partners weren’t in their room.