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“Let’s go for one more round!” Por says excitedly, bouncing up and down from his place on Gun’s dorm room floor, clutching a red N64 controller in his hands. Por had been seated on a pillow, but he had bounced off of it due to his excitement.
“It’s getting late, though,” Tiw says slowly, looking at his boyfriend from where he’s perched on one of Gun’s kitchen chairs. Tiw has put his gray N64 controller down in his lap to sip from his mug of rum and coke.
“You only say that because I whooped your ass in the last round,” Por grins smugly at Tiw, gesturing towards the screen where Por’s character, Banjo, is driving around the race track of Fossil Canyon with the text 1st is covering his third of the screen in gold. Bumper, Tiw’s character, has the text 5th on his screen.
“I came third last round because Gun got ten rockets,” Tiw protests, pointing his mug at Gun, who has been quietly observing them both.
“Don’t drag me into this,” Gun says, pointing at them both with his blue controller. Gun’s character, Timber, came second. There’s a clear, see-through controller on Gun’s left.
“Admit it,” Por drawls, slowly getting up on his knees, eyes shiny with mischief. He puts his controller down and proceeds to crawl slowly on all fours towards Tiw.
“You’re a sore loser, Tiwson.”
And with that, Tiw pounces off the chair and onto Por, sending his boyfriend crashing onto the floor with a loud thump. Por lets out a delighted squeal as Tiw starts to press kisses all over his face before he starts yelling in high pitches. Gun isn’t sure what Tiw is doing, but seeing as his hands have disappeared under Por’s crop top, he assumes Tiw is tickling him.
“Try to keep it down, please,” Gun says, chuckling as he leaves Tiw and Por to their tickling slash wrestling slash foreplay, rolling his eyes fondly at the pair as they roll over the floor, yelling.
Gun should probably be more worried that they’re making noise at eleven at night, especially since most people in his dorm have classes tomorrow, but Gun finds himself unable to worry about it, as soft little grunts pull his attention away from Tiw and Por and down to his lap.
Gun’s legs are folded underneath him, and perked high on Gun’s thigh, is Tinn. Tinn’s head, to be more exact, his cheek pressed firmly against Gun’s clothed thigh, giving Tinn’s handsome face a slightly squished look. Tinn’s pink lips are parted slightly, his bunny teeth peeking out from beneath his top lip. The fabric of Gun’s sweatpants feels a bit moist from where the corners of Tinn’s lips are pressed against it, so Gun is pretty sure Tinn’s drooling. Gun doesn’t mind.
Gently, Gun combs his fingers through Tinn’s slightly greasy hair, careful not to jostle him. Tinn’s eyelids flutter slightly, his dark eyelashes rest against the swell of his cheek. Tinn’s cheeks are both dyed a soft pink. Tinn had left Gun’s dorm at six this morning and hadn’t returned until nine in the evening. He’s in the seventh week of his hospital placement, and Gun feels he’s leaving earlier and earlier and returning later. It’s almost impossible for Tinn to get eight hours of sleep, what with the university’s written requirements on top of the high expectations the doctors at the hospital have of him.
This was supposed to be his day off, which was why Gun had invited Por and Tiw over for a double-date slash gaming night, but Tinn had suddenly gotten a text from the junior doctor at his department, asking if he could come in today. And Tinn, Gun’s hard-working, dutiful, kind, fantastic boyfriend, couldn’t say no. Gun has lost count of how many times Tinn apologized to him for having to go on his day off.
Carefully, Gun smooths out the wrinkle between Tinn’s eyebrows. It has been more noticeable the past weeks, probably due to stress, but now as he’s asleep, it’s barely visible.
In his chest, Gun’s heart flutters.
Tinn had been playing with them too, of course, choosing his favorite character, Pipsy. He had lasted for four courses before he had to throw in the towel. He had been about to go to bed but hadn’t turned down Gun’s lap when it had been offered to him. He’s curled in on himself in a way that makes him seem so small and tiny when he has, in fact, grown taller and lankier in the past years three years they’ve been dating.
Eventually, Tiw and Por get up from the floor and decide they should get going. Por’s got early classes tomorrow and Tiw’s got an upcoming exam. Gun manages to untangle himself from Tinn’s grip, carefully propping Tinn’s face on a pillow before he follows Tiw and Por to the door.
“Thank you for coming, guys,” Gun says when both boys have slipped into their shoes and grabbed their stuff.
“It was fun,” Tiw tells him, with Por nodding in agreement beside him.
“Text me when you get home, yeah?”
“Give Tinn our love,” Por says as he unlocks the door, lacing his fingers with Tiw. Gun stands at the door, watching until their backs disappear around a corner before he closes the door and locks it.
Por’s parents bought him an apartment for his second year and Tiw, even though he’s got a dorm of his own, usually crashes at Por’s since it’s closer to the university.
Gun is sleepy. He’s just going to rinse their cups and then he’s brushing his teeth and waking Tinn. Quietly, he gathers their mugs from the small coffee table and brings them to the kitchen sink. He’ll do the dishes tomorrow, he just has to rinse them out. He lets his brain disconnect for a few seconds as he rinses the cups under lukewarm water, absentmindedly tracing the rim of his mug.
Gun jumps when a pair of familiar, warm arms wrap themselves around Gun’s middle, and a warm chest presses itself against Gun’s back as Tinn rests his cheek on top of Gun’s head.
“Did I wake you?” Gun murmurs, unsure if his voice is audible to Tinn’s ears.
“No,” Tinn says, voice low and raspy, as it often gets when he’s tired and sleepy. Gun finds himself smiling as he rinses the last mug. He leaves the water running for a couple of seconds more, basking in the feeling of Tinn’s firm chest against his back, his scent devouring him, before he turns the water off.
Gun turns in Tinn’s arms, and comes face to face with his adorable, half-asleep boyfriend. Maybe not face to face as Tinn is more than half a head taller than him now, but that’s just semantics. Gun cups Tinn’s pink cheeks with his hands, squishing his face slightly. Tinn’s eyes, half-lidded, are looking at Gun with so much fondness that Gun feels unable to breathe for a second.
“Go to bed, baby,” Gun tells him, leaning in to press a brief kiss to Tinn’s lips. When he pulls back, Tinn is pouting.
“Don’t wanna go to bed without you.”
“I’ll be right there,” Gun promises softly before he kisses Tinn again. A bit slower this time. Tinn makes a low yet whiny sound at the back of his throat, his hands clutching at the back of Gun’s shirt. “I’ll be right with you, I just gotta wash up and brush my teeth.”
Tinn shakes his head cutely, still sporting that adorable pout on his pink lips. It makes Gun want to kiss him again, so he does.
“Tinn.”
“Don’t wanna,” Tinn protests.
“Do you wanna come along, then?”
That, Tinn wants. He follows Gun into Gun’s tiny, tiny bathroom, wincing slightly as the fluorescent lights flicker above them. Tinn perks himself up on the small stool that Gun keeps in there, under the sink, as he watches Gun quickly brush his teeth and rinse his face. Tinn brushed his teeth earlier.
As Gun undresses, he catches Tinn’s gaze in the mirror. He’s still sleepy and tired, but there’s a slight want burning his eyes that makes Gun look away to keep his body from getting too interested. Neither of them are in any shape to pull this through, even though Tinn’s gaze is undressing Gun faster than Gun can undress himself. When Gun pulls a white t-shirt over his head, he can feel his cheeks burn.
“Tinn,” Gun says, voice trembling, a warning.
“I was just looking,” Tinn whispers, then, “I like looking at you.”
Heat spreads through his chest and down his body.
“Come on, Casanova, it’s bedtime, remember?”
Tinn lets out a soft, delighted laugh as Gun pulls him up from the stool and pushes him out the door, scrambling to locate the light switch before following Tinn to the bedroom.
They let out a collective groan as their bodies hit the mattress. They scramble for a good minute, trying to cover both with the comforters, plugging phones into chargers before trying to find tonight’s sleeping position. Usually, they cuddle a bit before going to sleep, as Gun gets too hot if he’s tangled with Tinn the whole night, but Gun allows Tinn to adjust and readjust their positions until he lets out a pleased sound, pressing his face into Gun’s hair.
Tinn and Gun are both on their sides, facing each other, their legs tangled in each other and in their sheets. Sneakily, Tinn’s hand tugs Gun’s shirt up until the slight dip of his waist is exposed, Tinn’s long fingers sprawled over the skin. Against Tinn’s palms, Gun’s skin pebbles.
Gun’s face is pressed against Tinn’s throat, nestled underneath Tinn’s chin. It’s probably not a position he can stay in long, but he hopes to drift off like this. Tinn’s throat vibrates against his cheek as Tinn hums. It’s familiar, but Gun’s sleep-addled brain can’t pierce it together, so instead he lets the vibrations run through his body, soothing him to sleep.
The last thing Gun remembers is Tinn whispering a soft, warm, and gentle “I love you, Gun” against his forehead, his lips brushing over his skin. The mattress dips as Tinn scoots even closer; their clothed chests pressed together, Tinn’s hand slipping underneath his t-shirt, resting protectively against the small of Gun’s back.
Gun falls asleep, wrapped in cotton sheets and Tinn’s love.