Title: The Loveseat Lesson
Rating: PG
Summary: The infamous 'first time waking up together' scene that so many people have done so well. Here's my attempt!
Author's notes: I know that Roxanne's apartment in the movie actually has a rather large sectional-style couch. I'm afraid that she had to downsize for this fic, and I just don't have enough time right now to throw in a reason. Canon continuity fail!
When her night time visits to the lair crept into the early hours of the morning, Roxanne would find herself assigned to the bed. Often times, Megamind would continue to doze on the large leather couch that they had both been falling asleep on. Otherwise, he would get up and move to his equally black leather-clad high-backed chair. This is apparently where he sleeps the most often, when the drowning tug of sleep overpowers the drive to finish whatever current project lies before him. He swears upon the chair's support for his neck and spine, so she has always been content in taking the swaddle of his deep blue bedspread for herself.
Roxanne now realizes that there are fewer options in her one-bedroom loft apartment. For the first time in their relationship, she tears her sleep-laden eyes from the rolling credits to find her boyfriend already under the sandman's spell. His head is tilted to the side, resting on the love seat's back cushion. His eyes are closed and his features are peaceful, not even stirring as Roxanne readjusts to stare at him.
She's learning to love the hours before he sleeps, when all of that incredible, over-the-top energy begins to wind down. For a precious hundred and fifty minutes or so, he becomes more contained. Calmer. He's more apt to simply smile at something, head cocked in reflection. Their evening discussions are perhaps the most intimately telling, as he seems impervious to distraction. All of that soft, steady focus is for her, for Minion, or just the topic at hand. No matter what they do or speak of, that relaxed body language and clear emerald gaze ensnare her. Tell her that she wants to stay. For now, for the night. Maybe even for the future.
The inevitability of sleep follows at the end of those hours. And on this night, she finds that it has caught them on her very small, very burgundy love seat. The height of the furniture's raised arms makes head support resemble that of a medieval torture device. As she glances toward the dining nook, she notes that the chairs there have a stylishly low back.
Minion, from his perch on the other love seat (they're not the most comfortable, but they're proving to be quite sturdy), watches Roxanne's eyes roam the apartment. He can aptly guess as to what she's thinking.
"I can drive us home, Miss Ritchi."
Her eyes dart to his and she nods once. She then shuffles closer to Megamind and gives his shoulder a nudge. His eyes open only half way, peering at her from the odd angle that he had fallen asleep in. She leans her face in close to his, her voice soft with the fatigue that's washed over her as well. "Do you want to share the bed for tonight? Or would you rather go home? Neither of us will get much sleep here."
His eyes shoot open wide for a moment before he regains his composure. That as much tells her his decision, before he even speaks. "I don't mind. Sharing a bed."
She pats his leg, then uses it as leverage to rise up off the couch. Without pausing in her slow drift toward the bedroom, she asks a question that she already knows the answer to. But it's asked regardless, out of courtesy. "Do you need anything, Minion?"
"No, thank you. I'll just power down for a while and get some sleep."
When she reaches the doorway, she turns back toward the two of them and leans her hip against the frame. A hand comes up to ruffle through her hair, actually making it more of a mess than it already was. The sleepy sway of her body says that it's much too late to care of such things anyway. "I'll put some extra blankets down by the bed. I can kind of hog the covers sometimes."
With that, she disappears, leaving the two to exchange a look. By the time that Megamind replays her words in his head, just to be certain, and gathers the wits needed to shuffle to bed himself, Roxanne is already asleep.
~
When next he wakes, Megamind finds his right arm pinned and painfully numb. The light from the window streams in softly through a curtain to fall upon their still forms. She must have rolled against him in the night, though how she can lie flush atop him arm and still be comfortable, he doesn't know.
But there she is. All softness and warmth, in peaceful sleep. Had she been drawn to him in unconsciousness, or is this the result of her random sleep tossing? Oh, why had he been without the foresight to bring pajamas rather than sleep in his usual daytime attire? And his arm still hurts.
Tortuous pinpricks are flaring through his arm now, spurred by the increased blood flow of consciousness. Perhaps, he can gently – very gently – slide that one appendage out of harm's way without waking…
"Hmm?"
The noise is soft and questioning as her eyelids flutter open. Megamind stills, shoving the pain away as he waits and watches.
It takes a moment for her to register where their bodies are amid the bed and blankets and the waking world itself. When she has that tightly grasped, she also notices that his arm is caught between them in the awkward position of being nearly pulled free. So that's what had awoken her.
She can feel a blush spread through her cheeks at having woken up nearly on top of him. She rolls over, her back to him, and apologizes. It's a mutter in the pillow, but he catches it all the same.
"Ah! I was only moving because my arm was asleep."
Her embarrassment only ignited further, she mumbles a second apology and tries to forge the path to forgetting the incident. They had never truly cuddled before, always coming up against an invisible wall of uncertainty and awkwardness. She can feel him shifting behind her now, as if at war with himself between moving closer and keeping his distance. There are pauses between his words as he's sure that he's failing to find just the right ones. "Uh, no. No. I was quite comfortable, actually."
She rolls onto her back so that she can show him the questioning rise of her eyebrow. "You like having your arm fall asleep?"
His mouth twists into a frown and his eyes grow intense. "Well, no. Not really. But I do like…" He glances at her, then at the bedspread. Unsure, hesitant, his eyes meet hers again. "It was nice. Waking up with you…so close."
She mulls his words around in her mind, looking as if she's analyzing some complicated scenario. He watches intently as a decision reaches her eyes. She rolls toward him, lifting her upper body by the elbow and she watches his trouble-making arm as a cue to put it away somewhere.
Message received, he lifts it above her pillow so that she can lower herself into the nook. She slides her own trouble arm across the mattress to fit beneath his cushioned pillow. With the issue of pinned appendages out of the way, she drapes the other one across his chest slowly, testing the waters. Her hand comes to rest at his far shoulder, and the height feels just right; not too high, and not too low. She tentatively rests her cheek against his chest. It's all smooth planes and firm surfaces, and her face slides to tuck into his side. The few ounces of tension that she had been holding on to are eased from her body in a deep breath. Is she sighing against him?
"This is nice."
Slowly, trying to be as smooth as possible, he lowers his arm to rest against her back. Once there, he stops. He doesn't chance a move, other than the rise and fall of his chest.
He doesn't shift, or tilt his head, or even wiggle his fingers despite the urge he feels to stroke her back. He keeps himself immaculately still, as if he doesn't dare disturb her and risk her pulling away again.
She yawns, muffling the sound into his chest. Her eyes slip closed and she murmurs contently, "I could fall back to sleep like this."
There's a soft sort of awe in his voice and she barely hears it as sleep takes her. "I wouldn't want to."