Archive of Our Own

Of all the men Nice has dated over the years, Lin Ling is perhaps the closest to being perfect. 

……

Except for the goddamn alarms.

Lin Ling is kind. Attentive. He’ll notice Nice’s malaise in the morning before he leaves and show up in the afternoon at the studio where Nice teaches with a steaming cup of iced vanilla chai and a smile that could melt icecaps.

He’s not without his faults, of course. Lin Ling gets tunnel vision sometimes — he’ll work for hours hunched over his laptop, immune to hunger, fatigue, and Nice’s palpable disdain as he fails for the nth time to drag Lin Ling to bed.

But Lin Ling is good. In every way that matters.

Nice only wants to smother him with his Moon body pillow once every three days or so. 

Today happens to be one of those days, 

Nice groans and drags his pillow over his head. It does nothing to block out the droning alarm going off on the far side of the bed where Lin Ling set his phone down last night. 

Endure it, he tells himself. Lin Ling has work, he’ll turn off the alarm and get up.

You’re a dumbass if you believe that, the snide voice in the back of his head responds. 

Lin Ling is good. Nice loves him. 

He also sleeps like the dead.

Lin Ling is such a deep sleeper, in fact, that he’s not only slept through two earthquakes and a typhoon, but also Nice dropping a ten kilo barbell on his foot and swearing a fucking blue streak. 

The barbell dented the flooring.

Lin Ling also has a job that requires him to leave the apartment by seven in the morning. Which means he sets multiple alarms. In theory, even if he sleeps through one or two, the noise will eventually penetrate his sleep-dumb brain and remind him he will most definitely get fired if he does not wake the fuck up right now. 

In practice, Nice is pretty sure someone could break in, murder him, steal all their valuables and their cats, and slip back out without Lin Ling even cracking an eye open.

Lin Ling has fifteen individual alarms. 

He sleeps through fourteen of them on a good day.

“Lin Ling.”

Nice blindly throws a hand out. Once, twice, three times. He finally hits skin and smacks whatever part of Lin Ling he’s found a half dozen times. 

“Lin Ling. Get up. You’re going to be late.”

He’s too tired to even turn his face away from the mattress, so it comes out muffled. Barely audible over the still-ringing alarm. Nice has work at ten — a new class of starry-eyed kids hoping to learn the fundamentals of ballet. He cannot afford to show up looking like a zombie.

“Lin Ling. Lin Ling, I swear if you don’t wake up—“ 

He punctuates each word with another smack, and when that fails to elicit anything beyond a sleepy grumble from Lin Ling, he takes the skin beneath his hands between two fingers and pinches.

Lin Ling bolts upright, flailing. He’s all twisted up in the comforter and his theatrics nearly send him tumbling off the bed before he manages to reorient himself. He looks around groggily, scrubbing the sleep from his eyes, before he finds Nice glaring at him from under his pillow. 

“Wha’s goin’ on?” Lin Ling slurs. He rubs at the reddened bit of skin just above the waistband of his boxer briefs, grimacing. “D’you do that for?”

“The alarm, Lin Ling. It’s been going off for ten minutes.”

Lin Ling blinks, clearly not firing on all cylinders quite yet. He blinks again, dumbly, then fumbles for his phone, which is in a precarious position half-hanging off the bed. 

Nice almost wishes he’d let it fall. A cracked screen wouldn’t necessarily stop the noise, but Nice would get some petty satisfaction out of it regardless.  

“Ah,” Lin Ling says, chagrined. A swipe of his thumb finally silences the alarm. Nice takes a moment to appreciate the soft sound of his own breathing and Lin Ling’s quiet fidgeting. “Um, sorry?”

“I’m starting to see the appeal of those couples who sleep in separate rooms.”

Lin Ling huffs. “It’s not that bad, Nice.”

“Fifteen alarms, Lin Ling. You’re like a bear in hibernation.” 

“At least I don’t snore…?”

Nice just closes his eyes and noses into the sheets.

He feels Lin Ling shifting around on the bed. Hears the soft click of a phone being set down on the bedside table. Feels cool morning air raising goosebumps along his back as the blanket is pulled down to pool around his hips.

Nice laughs under his breath, subtly wriggling into a more comfortable position right before Lin Ling’s weight settles on the backs of his thighs. Warm hands skate up from the small of his back, firm, solid touches over his shoulder blades, curling around his biceps.

Lin Ling is so predictable. 

It’s one of the reasons Nice loves him so much.

“Okay, okay,” Lin Ling says, leaning down to all but drape himself across Nice’s back. He’s a warm, comforting weight. Familiar, welcome. 

He’s also starting to chub up against Nice’s ass. 

“I’m a shitty bedmate. I sleep like the dead, I have too many alarms…”

“Mmhm,” Nice hums. He won’t give Lin Ling more than that, not yet. He knows, and Lin Ling knows, he has to work for it. 

“So lemme make it up to you.”

There it is. A direct hit, as always.

“Yeah?” The pillow’s dragged away, and Nice twists to look back at Lin Ling over his shoulder. His mouth curls into a slow, syrupy smile. “How do you plan to do that? I’m missing out on my beauty sleep, Lin Ling. The price is pretty steep.”

Lin Ling’s hands smooth back over Nice’s shoulders, down his chest. His fingers catch on Nice’s nipples, and Nice’s sharp intake of breath is the only encouragement he needs to take them both between his fingers. Lightly pinching, barely-there pressure. A promise of more.

Payback, Nice thinks, pleased, toes already curling against the mattress. 

Lin Ling grinds lazily against Nice’s ass, his erection growing firmer with every slow roll of his hips. 

“I have a few ideas,” he murmurs, his mouth hot on Nice’s shoulder, lips soft, ticklish.

Nice grins and pushes back into Lin Ling. His own dick swelling, trapped between his body and the mattress. 

“You’re going to have to work for it, A-Ling.”

“I’ll happily put in overtime,” Lin Ling promises between open-mouthed kisses.

Nice believes him. 

His boyfriend isn’t perfect — no one is, after all. But he’s kind. Attentive. 

And best of all? He’s persistent.