friends help friends survive finals season
[for @morimenswrite day 27, season. on ao3 here]
Sighing loudly, Marsh falls backwards, hitting the pile of bedding and mattress with a soft 'poof' sound.
"I hate finals season." They complain, stretching arms out in front of them with a jaw-cracking yawn. "Classes are so hard. . ."
"You have straight A's." Tulu counters, eyes half-lidded in fatigue, looking up at them groggily from where he's sprawled out in the middle of the bed that Marsh had so eagerly thrown themself onto. "Why are you bothering This One with this."
"Tuluuuuuu!" Marsh whines, with all the dramatics of a twenty-year-old who thinks that university finals are the worst thing they've ever faced. "Aren't friends supposed to support each other? Besides—"
"We only are friends because you insisted on following This One everywhere until This One gave in and let you declare such a statement."
"Besides!" Marsh repeats, with more force this time. "Your room is closer to the main campus. If I nap here then it takes less time to get to the library for studying when I wake up. Can I stay for a while, please?"
For all his grumbling, Tulu is Marsh's friend — is a good friend, too. He sighs, but reaches over blindly with a pale hand and pats at part of the bed that's closer to his side — for as massive as the bed is, extravagant and elegant and fancy as per Mythag's accomodation for the King who has been there almost since Mythag's founding, Tulu's actual body is still rather small, and when his Aequor tentacles are curled up in lethargy there's more than enough space for Marsh to wiggle their way across the bed until they can flop down by his side. "Thanks." Marsh says, softly, before another yawn splits their jaw in half — they'd almost think the metaphor were literal, for how their muscles ache afterwards.
"You should rest more." Tulu comments quietly. "You'll do no good if you drain yourself just for schoolwork. This One would prefer you healthy, with lower grades, than a top-tier student with poor health."
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. . ." Marsh waves a hand through the air, lazily. Something heavy and cool drapes itself over their midsection, and they squint eyes open — ah, one of the tentacles. Seems like Tulu isn't asking that Marsh rest. Fair enough, they suppose, after all the times Marsh has done the same thing of 'asking' and then doing the thing regardless. (Tulu rotting in his room all day won't do any good, even if he does have to sleep a lot because of his divine king Aequor connection thingy. Marsh would know.)
"'M gonna take a nap." Marsh declares, turning until they're facing the doorway, wriggling closer until they can use Tulu's stomach as a pillow. "If 'm not awake in a couple hours, or if you go to sleep and wake up before me, wake me up, yeah?"
"This One will be sure to do so." Tulu promises, quietly — one of his hands resting atop Marsh's head. "Sleep. This One will wake you before your test tomorrow is scheduled."
"Thanks." With another jaw-cracking yawn, Marsh lets themself slump against their friend, further into all the bedding. (As their awareness fades, and sleep claims hold of them, they almost feel something warm and soft and heavy laid atop of them, like a blanket or pillow. Ocean waves roar at the edge of their dreams, and Marsh sleeps well. There's barely any dreams at all, nor any nightmares of forgotten things.)
