always a bigger bed to crawl into (megumi fushiguro x reader) (wc: 950+)
“going to sleep in separate beds, sneaking into each other’s for some snuggles” - inspired from this list of prompts
“Megumi.”
He thinks he’s dreaming when he vaguely makes out the soft whimper of his name. Granted, it’s not uncommon to hear your saccharine voice echoing through his head in the middle of the night.
As he’s about to drift off into a deeper slumber, a second and more harsh “Megumi” pulls him from his hazy state. He slightly sits up, now fully convinced that the noise was no dream and is in fact coming from inside of his room.
He firmly rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, blinking a few times to adjust to the darkness encompassing his bedroom. In the shadows of his doorway, he’s just barely able to make out your silhouette, cowering a bit apprehensively as you fiddle with your fingers. If it were anyone else, he would’ve been a bit alarmed—but he knows your shape like the back of his hand, even through blurry eyes and darkened shades.
“What are you doing?” he tries to ask gently, but it comes out a bit agitated through the gruff of his sleep-induced voice. You know him though, so you know it’s gentle in his mind and coming from his heart.
“Are you asleep?” your small voice—now whispering as if you didn’t already wake him up—finds his ears and he can’t help but feel his cheeks heat up at your sweet inquiry. It’s in this moment that he’s extremely grateful for the lack of light in the room, as it successfully hides his fair yet blushing skin.
“Wouldn’t be answering you if I was,” he slightly grumbles, resting his head back down on his pillow but keeping his eyes on you.
He doesn’t think you can actually see that his eyes are open, but they are. And he wants you to know that they are. That he’s listening to you, regardless of the nonsense that you’re spewing.
“Did I wake you up? I’m sorry,” you begin, but Megumi is quick to cut you off.
“No,” he reassures, shifting his weight and sitting up again.
“I was awake,” he wasn’t.
“It’s fine,” because it’s you.
There’s a moment of silence that neither of you break. Megumi can hear the ratting of his ceiling fan as it lazily spins a light breeze throughout the room. The few feet separating you from his bed feels like light years as he tries to focus in on your shadowed figure.
He thinks you’re nodding your head, but he can’t really tell since his eyes have yet to get accustomed to the darkness. He waits for you to say something, but you don’t—so the ball is in his court and he panics.
“Are you okay?” he abruptly asks.
But your voice overlaps and interrupts his nervous mannered question.
“Why were you awake?” you attempt to flip the attention on him.
He sees right through your act (much to your dismay) and doesn’t entertain it. Instead, he decides to answer your question with one of his own.
“Why are you in my room and asking me a million questions at-” he glances over to his bedside table’s digital alarm clock, the letters red and bright in his face read, “-1:36 in the morning?”
He can see your face a bit clearer now, because he sees your mouth open and close as if you’re debating saying something. He waits for your inevitable excuse or your quick yet teasing remark, but your nervous stalling fails as he’s met with another apology.
“I’m sorry,” quietly and quickly falls from you lips, “I couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d see if you were having the same problem.”
Truthfully, he wasn’t. Megumi was sleeping as if angels had cradle-rocked him to bed. He was blissfully dreaming of you—quick and abstract glimpses of your smile and eyes forever haunting his thoughts, awake or asleep.
But in this moment, as he observes your doe-eyes flicker with anticipation and he hears your voice slightly tremble as you bare yourself to him, he lies. Megumi is willing to pretend he was awake if it means easing your worries and having you curl up beside him underneath his navy covers.
“Fine,” his heart races as he shuffles over from the middle of the bed to the left side, “C’mere.”
He flips over his blanket, opening it up to you as an offering. You can practically feel the warmth he’s radiating and you want nothing more than to sprint over to where he lays and join him—but something in you causes you to hesitate.
Maybe he doesn’t want you here. Maybe he’s offering his bed to you out of pity, because you came crying like a baby to him in the middle of the night. Maybe he thinks it’s pathetic, maybe he feels obligated to-
“D’you wanna lay with me or d’you wanna stand over there ‘til morning?”
His question interferes your stream of worries as he watches you with narrowed eyes and messy hair. He looks so cozy—so sweet and domestic and in reach of your grasp.
“Lay with you,” you meekly respond.
That’s all it takes for Megumi to be opening his arms for you to enter his embrace, nodding his head for you to come his way.
He lets you crawl in and get comfortable, fluffing the unused pillow next to his head and shimmying your way beneath his thin sheets. You choose to settle down in his arms with your head on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat speed up when you lean on him, but you ignore it for his sake. Maybe you’ll tease him for it tomorrow morning.
His cold yet surprisingly soft hands snake their way around your waist, one arm underneath you and the other gently resting on top of your hip. He thinks about teasing you for the dead arm he knows he’ll wake up with. Maybe tomorrow morning, he decides.
“Good?” He whispers into your hairline once you’ve stop squirming, a signal that you’re finally comfortable where you lay. You feel his lips leave a few pecks into your hair.
“Yeah, thank you,” your response is soft, muffled by the cotton of his t-shirt pressed against your lips, “M’tired now.”
The breath from his laughter tickles your temple—for someone who couldn’t sleep, you sure are quick to tire once you’re within his hold. But he doesn’t mind in the slightest, he actually prefers you here with him, rather than alone in your own room. His bed feels far too big without you in it.
“Goodnight, Megumi,” he barely hears you utter.
He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t need to. Because his lips softly resting on the crown of your head paired with the gentle squeeze of your hip is enough to feel his love.
While he prefers going to sleep with you already in his bed, you sneaking in might be a close second.
