The other side of the bed is empty when Ukai's alarm goes off.
It takes him a minute to process the implications of this. He's still bleary with sleep, all his attention drifting under the influence of fading unconsciousness, and for the first few seconds he can't figure out why everything feels uncanny and wrong. Then he gets the alarm turned off, falls back over the mattress, and when his arm hits the sheets without resistance he realizes what's missing.
"Ittetsu?" He sits up but the room is as empty of other occupants as the bed, dark and silent except for the sound of Ukai's own breathing. At least he's awake, now, if only due to his confusion at this break in his routine. He tosses back the blankets, gets to his feet and kicks at the dark shapes of abandoned clothing on the floor until he locates pajama pants; the early-morning air is too chill to be comfortable in just boxers. He fumbles the door open while he's still tugging the clothing up over his hips, turns down the hallway and follows the glow of illumination to the living room.
He's opening his mouth to call out again when he sees Takeda and goes quiet instead. The other is right where Ukai left him the night before, hunched over the table and the stack of ungraded tests he started on as soon as they finished dinner. The only difference is that there are fewer papers in the stack under his hands, and he's tipped forward instead of upright, his shoulders curled into unconscious relaxation and his head pillowed against his forearm. He didn't even manage to get his glasses off - they're askew on his face, the frames tilted up across his forehead so Ukai can see the dark lashes against his closed eyes without the interruption of the lenses.
"Ittetsu," he says again, more softly this time, as he crouches down alongside the other. "Hey. Sensei. Wake up." Takeda doesn't move, doesn't even stir until Ukai takes his shoulder and gently shakes him. Then he whimpers sleepy protest, turns his face down into his arm. Ukai reaches out to save the other's glasses from the motion, holds them out of range while Takeda sighs into his sleeve before lifting his head and blinking at the other.
"I thought you were going to bed?" His hair is even more of a mess than usual, crushed flat on one side and curling soft across his forehead. The pattern of his jacket sleeve is pressed into his cheek, a red stripe along his jaw that hasn't yet had time to fade, and with his glasses off Ukai can see the soft blur of sleep in his gaze, the faint shadow of a night's poor sleep collected under his eyes.
He can't help the impulse that propels him forward, that presses his lips to the threat of a yawn at Takeda's mouth. Takeda's eyes shut, he makes a noise of drowsy surprise, and Ukai shuts his eyes for a moment, lets the slow friction of the other's lips shifting against his lull him back to something close to a dream for a moment. Then he retreats, recovering himself in time to watch Takeda's eyes open slow and heavy with pleasure and his mouth curve unconsciously on a smile.
"Here." He presses the frames into Takeda's hand, waits until the other's fingers tighten on the glasses before he lets go. "I did go to bed. It's morning."
"Is it?" Takeda fits the glasses onto his face, looks up at the clock. "Oh!" That has a little more energy, some of the frenetic activity Ukai usually sees in the other. Takeda lifts a hand as if to straighten his hair, though all he succeeds in doing is ruffling the dark locks into more of a mess than they were originally. "I didn't mean to fall asleep out here."
"Didn't think you did." Ukai pushes back to his feet, offers a hand to pull Takeda up as well. "You should still have a few hours, if you want to try sleeping in the bed instead."
Takeda takes the offer of support, stumbles to his feet and lifts a hand to cover a yawn. "No," he says, shaking his head in spite of the evidence of his exhaustion. "I'm never awake with you in the morning. I can't lose this opportunity."
"You'll be tired all day," Ukai warns, but it's more an observation than true discouragement, and he doesn't let Takeda's hand go.
The other shrugs one-shouldered, fights back another yawn to manage a smile instead. "It's just one day." He squeezes against Ukai's fingers before letting his hold go and turning towards the kitchen. "I'll make us some tea."
Takeda doesn't see the way Ukai smiles at his shoulders as he disappears around the corner. It's probably for the best, if Ukai's going to avoid distractions and make it to his first shift on time. Still, his smile lingers even once Takeda's out of sight, keeps tugging at the corner of Ukai's mouth while he showers and brushes his damp hair into order.
He suspects he could get used to this kind of morning.