[ a regular sleep schedule is not something chu wanning possesses. he works until he passes out, often curling around his laptop or whatever gadget he'd been working on, and wakes when his alarm goes off. he wakes slowly, constantly groggy, but drags himself out of bed no matter what once his alarm goes off the first time, and prepares for the day. on the weekends, his alarm is set a little later than usual, but not so much that it could be seen as indulgent, and, as usual, his alarm goes off, and his eyes blink open, blearily.
but that day is not a typical day for him. there's a heavy arm across his waist, the soft, gentle breathing against his hair, and a firm body pressed against his. for once, chu wanning feels properly warm. almost too warm. for a split second, he snuggles back against that chest, closing his eyes and letting himself indulge in the fantasy that mo ran is in his bed. because that's all it can be, a fantasy.
except this is so much more realistic than any fantasy chu wanning could ever conceive of. sure, maybe he'd thought about mo ran in his bed, but even in those, mo ran wouldn't stay. why would he?
his cheeks burn red as he realizes he's undressed, as is mo ran. he tries to wriggle away without waking up mo ran. he can feel the state of mo ran's morning arousal against him, and indeed he owes it to the younger man to give him some privacy and not acknowledge that. it's a natural bodily function; it happens. it's even happened to chu wanning, much to his shame.
if he can get up, he can find some clothes and make some coffee, and maybe mo ran will stay and talk to him a little before going off to... do whatever it is he does. mo ran doesn't need to wake up with an arm full of his old, stubborn teacher. even if he'd been so—so determined last night, he'll wise up in the light of day.
slowly and carefully, with all the careful skill of an engineer who works with delicate machinery, chu wanning carefully lifts mo ran's arm and wriggles out from under it, replacing it with a pillow. he grabs the first clothes he sees, struggling into his sweats and the shirt mo ran had discarded, blushing furiously when he realizes it is mo ran's. at least he's covered.
(he could take it off and dig out a fresh shirt, but he likes the thought of wearing mo ran's shirt. even if he shouldn't. even if it makes him terrible. maybe he can keep it when mo ran leaves.)
about the sneak out of the room and start on the coffee, he chances another glance at his younger lover. it isn't serious; it can't be, no matter how much he wants it to be. but mo ran is so handsome, especially in the morning light shining through the curtains. he tiptoes closer to the bed, peering down at mo ran, and very gently, runs his fingers over the curve of his cheek, the whisper of a touch, before hastily disappearing.
it's not long after when grumbling can be heard, followed by a thump, and then a muttered curse. a minute later, the smell of fresh coffee fills the air. ]
for ~zhanmadao
[ a regular sleep schedule is not something chu wanning possesses. he works until he passes out, often curling around his laptop or whatever gadget he'd been working on, and wakes when his alarm goes off. he wakes slowly, constantly groggy, but drags himself out of bed no matter what once his alarm goes off the first time, and prepares for the day. on the weekends, his alarm is set a little later than usual, but not so much that it could be seen as indulgent, and, as usual, his alarm goes off, and his eyes blink open, blearily.
but that day is not a typical day for him. there's a heavy arm across his waist, the soft, gentle breathing against his hair, and a firm body pressed against his. for once, chu wanning feels properly warm. almost too warm. for a split second, he snuggles back against that chest, closing his eyes and letting himself indulge in the fantasy that mo ran is in his bed. because that's all it can be, a fantasy.
except this is so much more realistic than any fantasy chu wanning could ever conceive of. sure, maybe he'd thought about mo ran in his bed, but even in those, mo ran wouldn't stay. why would he?
his cheeks burn red as he realizes he's undressed, as is mo ran. he tries to wriggle away without waking up mo ran. he can feel the state of mo ran's morning arousal against him, and indeed he owes it to the younger man to give him some privacy and not acknowledge that. it's a natural bodily function; it happens. it's even happened to chu wanning, much to his shame.
if he can get up, he can find some clothes and make some coffee, and maybe mo ran will stay and talk to him a little before going off to... do whatever it is he does. mo ran doesn't need to wake up with an arm full of his old, stubborn teacher. even if he'd been so—so determined last night, he'll wise up in the light of day.
slowly and carefully, with all the careful skill of an engineer who works with delicate machinery, chu wanning carefully lifts mo ran's arm and wriggles out from under it, replacing it with a pillow. he grabs the first clothes he sees, struggling into his sweats and the shirt mo ran had discarded, blushing furiously when he realizes it is mo ran's. at least he's covered.
(he could take it off and dig out a fresh shirt, but he likes the thought of wearing mo ran's shirt. even if he shouldn't. even if it makes him terrible. maybe he can keep it when mo ran leaves.)
about the sneak out of the room and start on the coffee, he chances another glance at his younger lover. it isn't serious; it can't be, no matter how much he wants it to be. but mo ran is so handsome, especially in the morning light shining through the curtains. he tiptoes closer to the bed, peering down at mo ran, and very gently, runs his fingers over the curve of his cheek, the whisper of a touch, before hastily disappearing.
it's not long after when grumbling can be heard, followed by a thump, and then a muttered curse. a minute later, the smell of fresh coffee fills the air. ]