Ah! One stupid thing. I wrote them sleeping on a bed (gah!) as opposed to a futon. I felt stupid and uncultured for doing it, but as it was already ingrained in the fic, I decided to let it go. :P Maybe it's Tohru's bed. No, let's not think too hard about the implications of that.
Rated: PG for shounen-ai and a very light suggestion of sex. Nothing, really.
Warning: AS previously mentioned, shounen-ai. It's a Yuki/Kyou fic, but not a soppy one (I hope), and no sex (actually in the fic). Still, if somehow you are offended by boys being attracted to other boys, you may want to pick up some other fic.
Kyou woke with barely contained frustration, feeling the bed bounce beneath him. He had lost count of how many times Yuki had moved and woken him up, and although his subconscious counting ability was low at three in the morning, it was still a sizeable quantity. With a low growl, he rolled over and nearly into the nezumi, who was feigning sleep in what Kyou could have sworn was the middle of the large bed. He must have been wrong, however, since Yuki was always raising hell about Kyou sprawling over his side of the mattress when they were trying to sleep. Many a time had Kyou been awakened most alarmingly from a deep sleep by a swift pillow-to-the-face, and received a venemous scolding for being so "disgustingly ignorant of other people's personal boundaries." And so the scolder himself sprawling would have been hypocritical in the extreme. Ne?
Kyou sat up and shoved Yuki remorselessly towards his vacated half of the bed. Yuki squeaked slightly at the unexpected blow before groaning and shifting groggily into a sitting position. He glared daggers at Kyou from behind a curtain of mussed fringe. "Nani?!" he demanded, voice cracking with sleepiness. Kyou gestured violently towards the bed, as though the answer should be obvious. Yuki must have been rather out of sorts at that moment, however, because he gave Kyou a piteous look and let out a long-suffering sigh. Kyou snorted.
"The bed, baka nezumi!" he clarified, gesturing even more vehemently. Yuki blinked and looked about himself.
"I don't see a problem with the bed," he said, and gave it an experimental bounce which jarred poor Kyou's head considerably and made him bite his tongue a bit. Angry with himself and angry with Yuki for causing him to be angry at such a marvellous person, Kyou made a nondescript vocalization of his anger. He furiously gesticulated at the spot Yuki was presently occupying, then to the empty side of the bed. "On...My...Side!!" He managed, volume rising with each syllable.
Yuki calmly examined the evidence against him. Seeing that he was very much guilty, he merely gave a scoffing laugh as he slid over. "For God's sake, Kyou, you complain a lot for someone who's guilty of the same thing every night."
Well, this was a blatant exagerration and logical falasy. An obvious tu quoqu that meant Yuki knew he had slipped up and was fighting for his dignity. A man of honor and superiority would have known the fight was won, and laid down gently to rest with the immense pleasure of having bested their opponent.
Unfortunately, Kyou was not known to be a man of honor and superiority. "Kuso!" He veritably shouted, and threw himself back on to the bed, facing away from his partner. Yuki shuffled under the covers again, and sighed deeply as he closed his eyes.
Despite his anger, Kyou was quickly drifting to sleep again. He was tired, tired as anything, and subcosciously desperate for the warmth and peace sleep would bring. But just as the soft, dark edges of ethereal oblivion began to soften the corners of his consciousness, the bed bounced sharply. Kyou's eyes bolted open and he sat up with a shout. Yuki was looking over his shoulder at the redheaded boy, giving him an indecipherable look.
"What the hell?!" shouted Kyou, past caring if he woke the rest of the household. Yuki blinked owlishly over his shoulder.
"Nani?" he repeated, quietly and sounding honestly curious. Or possibly just exhausted.
"You keep bouncing the damn bed! Can't you even sleep without annoying the hell out of me?!" Kyou kicked the covers off his legs like a child throwing a fit. He crossed his arms over his chest sullenly.
"I can't sleep."
"What?!" Kyou demanded, angry that Yuki had tried to say something when he wasn't listening. Damn rat.
"I can't sleep without annoying you because I can't sleep." Yuki explained. Kyou almost thought he could feel the vein popping on his forehead.
"So...So...Sleep...Already!!" He said, nearly apoplectic with rage. Yuki gave a half laugh from where he lay, now facing away from Kyou, under the covers.
"If it was that easy, I would. You think I like staying awake just for your company?"
"That's not what you were saying earlier!" Kyou retaliated without a thought. Upon retrospection, this comeback had rather embarrassing conotations that Kyou did not want to imply, but it was too late to stop his words now. Yuki was positively giggling from the side of the bed.
"As I recall, I was the only one coherent enough to say anything, Kyou." And Kyou was forced to admit to himself that this was, indeed, correct. Never one to accept defeat, he humphed loudly and crossed his arms again. He could practially feel Yuki's smug smile. "Goodnight, Kyou." He said, with a finality rather like a mother putting her impudent child to bed with false nicety. Kyou repeated his earlier actions, laying down with such a vengeance that the springs in the mattress squeaked their protest and so did Yuki.
He waited, waited, waited for sleep to claim him again, but evidentally sleep only makes so many rounds, and if you're not ready to go on one of them, you've lost your chance. So Kyou rolled on to his back (with infinitely more grace than Yuki's thrashing, he thought), listening to Yuki's steady, but very much awake, breathing, and thought of uncharacteristic things.
After several minutes, he asked quietly, "Yuki, are you still awake?"
Yuki gave a muffled "Mm" of confirmation. Kyou rolled to face him and leaned up on one elbow. He was about to do something that went rather against his grain.
"I have something that might help you get to sleep...If you want to try."
A pause, then another soft "Mm." Kyou shuffled over on the bed a bit, perhaps passing over the sacred middle line, but not noticing. He came to rest so that he was directly behind Yuki, close enough to touch easily. "This is something Shishou used to do for me, when I couldn't sleep when I was little."
This piece of family history went unacknowledged but not unappreciated. Yuki filed it away for later examination with many other single sentences that may, one day, provide him with a clue as to the emotional enigma that was Kyou. In the mean time, Kyou was mentally building up to something he evidentally found embarrassing.
"It's...it's sort of stupid," he warned, sounding rather defensive. "But it really works, if you just do as I say."
"No one's contradicting you, Kyou." Yuki pointed out quietly. Kyou was startled by this gentleness, and set about his task as Kyou set about any task - with a passion to rival that of the sun. Yuki was going to get to sleep, dammit, if it was the last thing he did.
"Okay...Close your eyes." Yuki did as he was told. "Now...imagine all that extra energy, and all that stress, and all that ache in your limbs is something visible. Picture it in your mind."
Yuki smiled slightly at the tone Kyou's voice adopted. It was easy to hear it had fallen into a vocal track carved by his master, night after night, saying these same words. But he did as he was being instructed, and saw his insomnia as a collection of yellow lights inside his body.
"Now, just...picture it sliding right out through your toes...Out through your fingers...Through the top of your head..." And as he said this, Kyou ran his hand softly, soothingly down Yuki's arm and side, reaching down his leg as far as his hand could reach before begining again at the shoulder.
Yuki pictured it, and oddly he felt as though his energy was leaving him, as though he was sinking deeper and deeper into the mattress and pillow, and he marvelled at the power of Kyou's almost-hypnotism. His hand ran in warm carresses down his body, his voice chanting a soft littany of soothing words, and Yuki was smiling in unexpected softness of heart as he fell, finally, to sleep.
Kyou listened as Yuki's breathing grew softer and deeper until it reached the rhythmic tide of sleep. He stopped talking, but found himself reluctant to remove his hand from where it came to rest on Yuki's hip. With a falsely dismissive expression, he lowered himself lightly on to the mattress and pressed ever-so-softly against Yuki, hand remaining on the other boy's hip. As he fell asleep, Kyou had an odd image in his mind that all his stress and aching was traveling in a steady stream through the hand and disappearing when it hit Yuki's softly breathing form.
If, completely rhetorically, someone had seen this quiet exchange from a small crack in the doorway, perhaps (and this is a big perhaps) a 27-year-old man cursed with the dog's vengeful spirit, woken by shouting and curious as to the cause, and if said someone perhaps made some snide remark the next morning at breakfast concerning Yuki, Kyou, and cheap romance paperbacks, Kyou would probably explain it was only so he could get some sleep, realize what this comment implied (concerning privacy and supposed privacy), and beat said someone senseless.