breddy nocturnes

a timeless shifting

fic collab on tsvtwt! prompt: little ficlets of brett's attempts to wake up eddy in the morning so they don't run late!

read the other works here: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leteddysleepchallenge

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It's 6:00 AM when Eddy first wakes up this morning, to his phone shouting its first of countless alarms into his ears. The rest of the apartment is soundless, sleepy, not yet lively with morning errands: Brett definitely isn't awake yet. Eddy fumbles for his phone and presses dismiss before falling back into the covers.

"I really have to do this again, don't I?"

It's somewhere around 8:00 or 9:00 when Eddy wakes up the second time, to a familiar figure standing over him, bedhead hair combed neatly and an unmistakable guise of exasperation behind his glasses. "Morning, my love," Eddy mumbles sleepily, reaching for Brett's hand and pressing a soft kiss to it.

"Eddy, wake up. Do you want me to drag you across the mattress and to the table again?" Brett straightens up and starts towards the door, but the soft breath of a laugh among his words unmistakably reaches Eddy's ears. "And can you shut off all those alarms if you're not going to get up? I've already heard, like, five alarms this morning, dude."

"Okay, okay, I'll be there in a sec, I'm just..." Eddy mumbles to no one, closing himself more in the blankets and rolling over. "Five more minutes."

(He doesn't have the energy to turn his alarms off. He dozes off again.)

It's probably somewhere around 11:00 the third and final time Eddy wakes up, and it's to the goddamn smoke alarm screeching mercilessly in his ears and all throughout their apartment. Eddy shoves his glasses onto his face, and he's never clambered out of bed this fast before.

"Brett, love, is everything okay?"

But the last of the question dies on his tongue—for all that, Eddy doesn't even see plumes of smoke or blackened breakfast at the stove.

"Yeah, bro, everything's fine," Brett replies. He's balancing haphazardly on a chair, his hand extended towards the test button of the smoke alarm on the ceiling. He looks down at him with a teasing grin plastered across his face. "Now that you're finally awake."

"Brett Yang, you did not just set off the smoke alarm just to wake me up."

"I knew that would get you out of bed. Good morning." He reaches over and playfully runs his hand through Eddy's already-disheveled hair.

They laugh together as he carefully steps off the chair, Eddy helping him balance. "C'mon, we have a bunch of videos to film after breakfast," Brett chides him.

"Fine, fine. Be right back, I just need to wash up and get changed."

(As if. The comforting pull of sleep and warm covers is far too strong for Eddy. It's just Eddy enough, how he gets into bed and promptly goes right back to sleep.)

And.

It's fifteen minutes later when Brett checks in on Eddy, who still hasn't returned from his room: all the while, the suspicion dwells knowingly in his mind, and lo and behold—when Brett enters his room, Eddy's sprawled on his bed, all soft snores and glasses askew.

With a sigh and a small laugh, Brett carefully takes off Eddy's glasses and sets them on his bedside table. He hauls the blanket more over him before kissing him: a soft brush of lips against forehead, cheeks, lips.

"Goodnight, sleepy hedgehog," Brett laughs softly before leaving the room.

(Really, Brett's only option at this point is to hold off filming for later.)