gurabad | 020 » just know that you won't have to do this alone

[Francel's like a little kid when he's straight out of the tub, isn't he? It is somewhat endearing, and Ryan finds himself tempted to tease him and asks if he needs to be tucked in. The question distracts him, though.]

Yes, put it anywhere that the skin feels tight after your bath. If the skin doesn't feel tight, just putting it on your hands is fine —

[He cuts himself off as he finally catches a glimpse of how low those pants are (even lower now that he's moved to sit down).]

...do you need assistance with your pants?

[it's even worse now that francel is slowly rolling up his pant legs to get at the dry skin around his shins. he blinks, confused, as he considers the way the band of his pants is sitting around his hipbones.]

...No? I think they're fine... though it did confuse me somewhat that there are strings, and yet no holes to lace them through. These are very strange brais, indeed...

[Brais must be a word for pants, but Ryan's certainly never heard it (and he's heard a lot of words). Not that that's the important thing, here. The important thing is that his rear is almost hanging out, good grief!]

They're meant to sit around your waist, then you tie the strings to hold the pants up. Since most of the clothing on Earth is mass produced, we have to use various measures such as this to help fit clothing to as many shapes and sizes of people as possible.

[francel stares at his pants for another moment, eyes half-lidded... and then he quite suddenly just kind of flops over onto the bed, his head comfortably on his pillow, one pant leg rolled up and the pump bottle of lotion at his side.]

...S' too much trouble.

[the most mature decision he has made in weeks.]

[What? What's he doing? Isn't he even going to fix his pant leg? Just seeing that out of the corner of his eye is going to drive Ryan insane. Huffing to himself he sets the laptop on the side table and crawls across the bed to fix it. He'll also forcibly tug Francel's pants up where they belong and reach around to neatly tie the drawstrings so they stay that way.

There, that's much less distracting.]

[much less distracting, indeed. but when ryan draws closer, francel does too — when ryan tries to reassume his sitting position, with his laptop and his crossed legs, francel follows after, worming his way over the mattress so that his head is on ryan's thigh. super comfy!

...well, not really, because ryan's thighs aren't exactly luscious and soft — but he's warm, and that's really all francel is thinking about right now.]

Mmmnh.

[He's just reaching for that laptop when Francel's head suddenly comes down on his leg. Ryan freezes, and Francel will be able to feel the tension in the muscles beneath him.]

W-what?

[That is far too close to his crotch oh my God please have mercy on him. He squirms a bit and grabs that laptop, placing it on his lap and using it like a shield.]

Wouldn't a pillow be more comfortable?

[another indistinct grunt, and francel lolls his head to one side, practically snuggling against ryan's thigh.]

But you're warm...

[on the bright side, he's really nowhere near ryan's crotch. on the not-so-bright side, he kind of rolls his head a little farther, and then he's practically up against ryan's hip, blond hair splayed out against his leg. the laptop vent is nice and warm too!!]

[What does he even do, here? Does he tell him to screw off and then have to deal with a potentially difficult subject? It's not like he has anyone here to help him handle Francel, and he can't force him to store aether in the quartz so he can gather data. This is so unbelievably awkward.

But fine. Whatever. He'll just rest his elbow on Francel's head and hope he takes the hint that he's in the way (even if he's really not). He's not grabbing at him with his hands and the amount of contact is relatively small, so this much is tolerable.]

[that's fine

this is fine

apparently he's literally just going to lie here and sleep on ryan's lap

a very useful elbow rest]

[While this isn't physically uncomfortable, after awhile it becomes emotionally uncomfortable. Having someone behave in such an utterly defenseless way around him is bizarre, and he has trouble handling it. Once Francel's breathing evens out and it's clear that he's sleeping, Ryan gently pushes him over on his side of the bed (where he will hopefully STAY) and gets up to use his laptop at the table for a few more hours.]

[francel's asleep, so of course he doesn't move. he stays on his side of the bed all throughout ryan's work; every now and then he moves his head or murmurs faintly, but otherwise he's a quiet sleeper.

will ryan sleep in the same bed with him, or take up residence on one of the couches?]

[Though he would definitely prefer to sleep alone, Ryan has difficulty sleeping at the best of times. He wouldn't be able to sleep on the couch. A few hours later he crawls into bed, curling over and facing Francel since he's not comfortable turning his back to him. As soon as he catches sight of Francel's sleeping face he remembers the sketch the elezen did of him in a similar position.

Finding himself irritated suddenly, he gets back up and roots around for Francel's sketchbook. Though it would be too dark for most people to see clearly, between the moonlight streaming in through the large windows and the bathroom nightlight Ryan's eyes are fine. He finds it easily and climbs back into bed, flipping to the same page that has his portrait on it.

And then he starts to sketch. See how Francel likes it!]

[when at last francel wakes up he does so slowly, with a fluttering of the eyelashes and a sweetly voiced groan. too cozy on the bed to sit up properly, he closes his eyes for another few moments — and then, at last, he sits up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. how long was he out?]

...Ryan...?

[It takes Ryan an hour and a half, but finally he manages to draw Francel's sleeping face in satisfyingly creepy detail. He's feeling quite pleased with himself as he leans over the elezen's prone body to set the sketchbook on the nightstand for him to wake up to (and hopefully be freaked out by), but the movement accidentally wakes him.

He'll try to pretend he was just moving around to get comfortable.]

What?

[rather than on the nightstand, francel's eyes light upon a clock in one corner of the room — analog, thankfully, to go with the whole french chateau theme — and he stares at the time for all of five long seconds before he flops back into bed, absently patting the pillow next to his while he closes his eyes and makes himself comfortable again.]

Go to sleep.

[How sweet, he's worried about him getting enough sleep. Though Ryan just sees it as being irritated over being woke up. He snuggles down into the bed again with a self-satisfied smirk, looking forward to the morning.

Which is in just a couple hours. He probably shouldn't have stayed up so late, but it's fine — he doesn't need much sleep anyway.]

Very well. Good night.

Mmhmm... Good night.

[they settle down, the lights are out, the covers are over both of them, and everything is quiet.

it takes maybe five or ten minutes before francel first rolls over in his sleep, snuggling closer to ryan's end of the bed, but still nowhere near the other man. and then he moves even closer.

and then he kind of stretches.

and then there's... an arm... snaking... around... ryan's waist...]

[That is entirely different from being used as a pillow! Being held is restrictive, and that sets off all kinds of alarm bells. Ryan was just starting to drift off, so the sudden weight startles a yelp out of him. He grabs his pillow and shoves it into Francel's grip instead, scooting to the very edge of the bed until he's very nearly in danger of falling off.]

Do you need a stuffed animal or something?!

[he doesn't even wake up at that! instead, he... hungrily scoops up the pillow and presses his face against it, sighing contentedly, like some eldritch pillow-devouring monster from the bowels of hell. how... cute...

...seems like the pillow will work well enough for his cuddling needs. maybe he does need a stuffed animal.]

[Is it safe to fall asleep, or is he going to be assaulted with hugs if he does? Ryan watches Francel warily for a few minutes before resituating himself so that his head is on his arm.

Pillow hog. He'll have to request extra pillows tomorrow.

His sleep is fitful (the nap he had doesn't help), and Ryan's up bright and early the next day. Unless Francel gets up before eight, chances are Ryan will already be up and around and sipping coffee at the little table in the room before he even wakes up.]

[francel sleeps long and well, and he's lost to deep, dreamless sleep for a good nine or ten hours. when at last he wakes up, it's his feet that move first, shifting vaguely under the blankets until at last he pushes himself off the mattress and gazes sleepily at his surroundings —

— and at last his eyes light upon the sketch of his sleeping face sitting on the nightstand.]

...Who...?

[Though it's a very mechanically precise sketch, there's otherwise not much to be said for it other than taking note of all the disturbing little details. Ryan's not much for artistry, but he can draw from life at least.]

What, you don't enjoy having someone draw your sleeping face?

[there's a bit of a pause as francel slowly processes the sketch.

it's jarring to look at. typically, francel hates his reflection, and thinks that he looks boyish and foolish, with an unintelligent, placid look in his eyes — but the elezen in ryan's sketch is delicate and effeminate and looks at peace with himself.

it's supposed to be him. ryan drew it, and it's supposed to be him.

francel decides that it's too early in the day to be thinking about this.]

...You're very good, but I don't know that this is my sleeping face...

[How disappointing. He's not rattled at all, he's just critiquing it!]

Should I take a photo next time? It's accurate; I was watching your face the entire time I drew it and you didn't even budge.

[If this is because he didn't add fanciful touches, Francel can just suck it up. That's not how Ryan does things. Though one could argue the amount of detail to the hair and lashes is bordering on obsessive when the real goal was just to capture his expression.]

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great timing, I tabbed to eat

please feed me

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