Chapter Text
"Isak babe," Even whispers through the dark, voice heavy and slow with sleep. "Why aren't you sleeping?"
Isak locks his phone immediately so the room goes completely black and puts it away on the nightstand, just for show. He rolls over in bed and faces Even, whose eyes are slowly falling shut again. Isak can see that he is struggling to stay awake, and he smiles softly, carefully adjusting the covers over Even's shoulders so the cold in the room can't get to him.
"Sorry." He whispers back, curling up against Even with one hand under his pillow, gently stroking the other over Even's cheek; brushing away some strands of hair. "I will go to sleep in a minute.” He promises. It is a lie, and Isak knows it. He is tired, but his body won't allow him to rest. It has been like this for the past few days, and he has gotten fewer and fewer hours of sleep. This is partly the reason why he asked Even to spend the night, because usually he always slept better next to his boyfriend. Today though, not even Even seems to be able to help him.
As Even stirs under Isak’s touch, Isak retreats his hand, hugging the blanket around himself instead, trying to ignore how fucking beautiful Even looks in his sleep. Isak wants to reach out and touch him again, but he doesn't want to risk waking him up.
This isn't the first time Isak has felt this way. The restlessness occasionally creeps into his bones now, especially when he is under a great deal of stress for a long period of time. Sometimes though, it just robs him off his peace and quiet without any obvious reasons, and it frustrates him even more when he can’t put his finger on the problem so he can fix it. The restlessness overall makes it extremely difficult for him to sleep. No matter what he thinks about, how comfortable he gets, how long he lays there, or how many times he counts backwards from 100, he simply won’t fall asleep. He has tried exercising, taking pills, doing fucking yoga, but nothing works. It’s not that he isn’t tired. In fact, he feels ridiculously exhausted for most of the time, but for some reason he just can’t fall asleep.
The first nights he spent many long hours staring holes in the ceiling was at Jonas’s, almost two years ago, when things started to get crazy at home and Jonas took him in as a part of the family. All of the stress and worry caught up with him when he was laying next to Jonas on the bed, feeling calm and safe and protected. He wasn’t afraid when he was with Jonas, and his brain saw it as an opportunity to take its time to subconsciously try and process the sounds of smashing glass and words of abuse at home. It confused him in the beginning, and his first fit of insomnia lasted for around two weeks. It steadily grew worse over the time, until he barely got more than three hours of sleep per night, and Jonas noticed of course. Most of his friends did, actually.
He walked around like a zombie during the second week, without eating or socializing much at all He picked a lot with his food in the cafeteria, lacking in appetite and never really finding the energy to put it in his mouth and chew. Everything tasted the same and he wasn’t really hungry. He was just really, really tired. His new behavior of playing with food brought up many uncomfortable conversations that Isak tried his best not to think about afterwards. The boys had tried to prompt him into eating at times, but reluctantly given up when he had come up with some lame ass excuse and rather hotly told them not to worry about it.
Not surprisingly, Noora was the first one who forced him into having a real conversation about it. He had noticed her observing him over the past week, but simply tried to ignore it. One day she stopped him in the corridor and held him up by his locker and refused to let him leave and escape to class until he talked to her. At first he downright denied having any problems whatsoever, rudely snapping at her that he didn’t have anything that he needed to talk about, but when she carefully opened up about struggling with a eating disorder and anxiety, he slowly let the defenses down and opened up as well. He reassured her that he wasn’t struggling with the food itself, and loosely explained the many sleepless nights and the exhaustion he felt. She had looked concerned and a little confused, but she understood somehow, and Isak had felt good talking about it. When his problems subsided the next week and he managed to sleep at least six hours per night, he told her everything was alright again; and it was, for some time.
Then, he moved back home and once again found it extremely difficult to sleep. He told himself that talking to Noora wasn’t enough and that it wasn’t worth bothering her or the others, so he kept it to himself as much as he could. Over time he has gotten considerably better at functioning on fewer hours of sleep, and despite knowing that isn’t really an accomplishment, he is glad that he for the most time can keep it together around his friends. Magnus and Mahdi seems to have forgotten those first two weeks, but Noora and Jonas asks him about it at times, and it doesn’t really bother Isak all that much. Occasionally, when he thinks it won’t cause them too much trouble, he tells them the truth, even though he rarely goes into detail. The more sleepless nights he gets though, the more details he spill. It is as if the defenses he has built up is rendered weak when the exhaustion sets in, making him more open and willing to talk.
Jonas asked him about it a couple of days ago, when they were playing Mario Kart at Magnus’s and the other two were fast asleep; Mahdi leaning over the armrest and Magnus spread out on the floor. Jonas didn’t make a big deal out of it, and simply asked “how have you been sleeping lately?”, in a very gentle tone during one of the races. Isak didn’t look away from the game, and neither did Jonas, but Isak still gave him an honest answer: “Not too good.”
Jonas glanced at him, understanding in his eyes, but said nothing. When the game was finished he paused the screen and turned to fully face Isak, a warm look in his chocolate brown eyes, one arm throw over the backrest. “You know you can come and talk to me at any time, right? No matter what you need, I’ll be there. You’re always welcome at my place.” He said softly, and Isak nodded silently, grateful for the offer.
“Have you talked with Even about this?” Jonas asked then, and Isak shrugged, telling him “no, I haven’t”. Jonas straightened and Isak saw that he was about to start a conversation that Isak really wasn’t in the mood for, so he simply cut him off by promising that he would talk to him, soon.
Now he lays in bed next to Even three days later, and they still haven’t talked about it. It never feels like the right time. Isak observes every detail in Even’s face, mapping out the lines and shadows and memorizes the way he looks so calm and peaceful in his sleep. He can’t help but feel slightly jealous, but tries not to think about it. Over the past week he hasn’t been able to sleep much at all, and it’s beginning to get to him now. He is a lot easier to irritate, and gets mad at Even for the smallest of things. He hates himself for it, but he can’t bring himself to explain why, even though he knows Even notices that something is off. His boyfriend asks him about it sometimes, but he just shrugs him off, saying that it’s okay.
Isak sighs heavily and gently rearranges the blue covers over Even's shoulders again so that his naked skin is completely hidden from view. His boyfriend shifts slightly at the touch, mumbling something incoherent under his breath, and turns over so his back is facing Isak, but he doesn't wake up. The smaller boy is grateful. He doesn't want to explain why he is wide awake at 3 am, especially not to Even, not right now. He has already told him multiple times that he is okay, and besides, Even has enough to deal with as it is. Isak feels no need to add up to his worries. He just needs a couple of days, and then everything will be back to normal and Even won’t have to think about it anymore. Isak can handle this on his own, just like he usually does.
Isak’s legs itches and he desperately wants to get up and move around, but he just scoots closer to Even and nuzzles deeper into his neck instead, trying to ignore the urge of activating his body. He breathes in the scent of Even's hair and shirt, closing his eyes. He tries to slow beating of his heart by just listening to Even's slow, steady breathing, and even though it doesn't really work, it’s strangely comforting in a way. It makes him feel less anxious, and a lot more safe.
It does not take too long though, until Isak feels too warm and he has to move. He gently throws the covers off of himself, and shifts off of the bed, careful not to wake Even up. He walks out into the kitchen, tiptoeing on the cold floor. He’s not really hungry, do he just takes a glass from the counter and opens the tap, filling it with cold water. He drinks a little, letting the cool liquid run down his throat and it feels good. It makes his mind feel a little more awake, and it’s easier to deal with the restless itch in his body. Isak places the glass on the counter again, and goes to one of the windows, opening it to take in the beautiful night. It’s not too cold, but the chilly wind feels amazing on Isak’s skin. He closes his eyes, leaning against the frame of the window and listens to the sounds outside. The wind is soft as it shakes the trees, and somewhere a car drives through the dark. It all feels incredibly nice, and Isak loses track of time as he just breathes slowly, thinking of nothing in particular, almost nodding off for a second.
After some time has passed, Isak knows he should get back to bed, so he does, closing the window behind him. When he steps into the room again, Even has turned to the other side, facing him again, but his eyes are still closed. Isak falters in the doorway for a second before stepping inside, closing the door behind him as gently as possible, tiptoeing back to bed in fear of waking Even. He climbs up next to him, and pulls the warm covers over himself, trying to find a somewhat comfortable position on the soft mattress.
He continues to move around for the following ten minutes, sighing in frustration as he cannot bring himself to sleep. He is facing the door, with his back to Even, when his boyfriend’s voice speaks through the darkness. Isak nearly jumps out of his own skin, heart beating wildly against his ribs, and remains absolutely still for a second as he takes in what Even says. He really didn’t think Even was awake.
"Why aren't you sleeping?” Even whispers, repeating his question from earlier during the night, but he sounds surprisingly awake this time. Isak slowly rolls over to face him, and they turn out to be so close to each other that their noses nearly brush against each other. Isak shifts back a little, putting some distance between them. His mouth feels dry.
“I’m trying.” He answers quietly, and it’s the truth. Even observes him, eyes bright and searching, with a considering frown on his pretty face. Isak knows he is trying to figure out how to approach him on this matter, and Isak desperately wracks his brain for ways to get out of this situation. He comes up with nothing. They lay in silence for some time, looking at each other, until Even speaks up again.
“Are you having trouble sleeping?” He asks gently, despite obviously knowing the answer already. Isak nods, cheek scratching against the soft pillow. He wants to duck his head into the material and hide, but he knows he can’t. That will only make the situation worse.
“Do you often have trouble sleeping?” Even continues, frown deepening, scooting closer. Isak swallows hard, emotion suddenly welling in his chest, and he ignores the urge to move away from Even’s searching gaze. He can’t think.
“Sometimes.” Isak answers after a while, clearing his throat to try and disguise the croakiness. His head pounds.
“Sometimes?” Even repeats it as a question, and suddenly Isak can’t take the seriousness of the situation anymore. He sits up in bed, hugging a pillow to his chest, trying to make himself calm down. He feels a little dizzy, and anxiety gnaws inside of him. This isn’t the end of the world, he tells himself, but it doesn't help. It’s Even, for goodness sake. Why does he feel so stressed? “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” Isak whispers, and surprises even himself by how defeated he sounds. Even instantly sits up right beside him, worried, and Isak can’t help but feel guilty when he notices the almost scared look on Even’s face. His boyfriend hovers for a second or two before he places an arm around his shoulder, rubbing circles on his back.
“Come on Isak.” He encourages gently. “Talk to me.”
“I’m just…” Isak stops talking when his throat closes up, and looks away from Even’s face, glaring holes on the floor. Even lets him compose himself for a second, but doesn’t back down. When Isak doesn’t continue, he takes a gentle hold of Isak’s chin, and turns him back around. Isak works his jaw furiously and allows Even to what he pleases. In truth, he doesn’t want to hide from him either.
“You don’t need to hide babe.” Even whispers softly, looking extremely concerned despite the soft smile on his lips. Isak searches his face for something to blame his own silence on, but finds nothing but love. He sighs heavily, intertwining one of their hands and placing it on his lap, looking down on their fingers, frowning too. Even squeezes encouragingly, and Isak blinks a couple of times, trying to form words. It’s difficult. He’s so damn tired.
“I can’t sleep sometimes.” He admits quietly, still staring down in his lap. Even says nothing, but his hand is warm and it gives Isak some strength. He continues, stumbling over the words. “It’s not that bad, Evy, I promise. I just…” He pauses, and licks his lips. They are as dry as sandpaper. “It comes and goes. The not sleeping I mean. Sometimes it’s… worse…” He sighs heavily again, rolling his head to the side, subconsciously squeezing Even’s hand harder. “And sometimes it’s nothing. Most of the time it’s nothing… I…”
“Isak.” Even interrupts and Isak looks up again, searching for irritation or something similar to that in Even’s eyes. He can’t find any of it. “I don’t care that it’s okay most of the time. What I care about is right now, and right now it’s not okay. Do you see my priority right there?”
He is smiling and his voice is a little teasing. Isak chuckles gently, leaning over to rest his head against Even’s shoulder. The other boy lets him, but when he continues the smile drops from Isak’s face. He blinks tiredly into Even’s shirt, lashes fluttering.
“Is it stress?” Even asks, gently leaning his head to the side, resting his chin against Isak’s hair. The position is not very comfortable and it puts a strain on Isak’s neck, but he doesn’t want to move away. He feels safe being this close to Even, and he doesn’t have to look him in the eye. He shakes his head to answer Even’s question. His boyfriend takes another guess, and Isak can hear the hint of confusion in his voice: “Anxiety?”
Isak laughs quietly, but it’s a humorless sound and he instantly cuts himself off and leans back, away from Even. The other boy allows him to shy away, but tips his head down to try and catch Isak’s eyes, timidly searching for an answer. “Are you scared of something?”
Isak shakes his head again, but before Even can ask another question he sighs in frustration and buries his head in his hands. For whatever reason, his eyes are burning. There aren’t any real tears, but it feels strange and Isak rubs at them so hard spots of white erupts in his vision. He can feel a migraine beginning to take form in his head. He often gets them after many sleepless nights. Even is quiet, swallowing back whatever question he had on the tip of his tongue.
“I just have trouble sleeping sometimes Even.” Isak explains again, glancing at his boyfriend tiredly. “Yeah, sometimes it’s because I’m stressed. Sometimes it’s because I’m anxious. But most of the time, I don’t even know what the problem is. I just can’t sleep.”
Even nods, frowning again, but his eyes are filled with understanding. Isak continues, voice raising a little in volume: “I’m just so sick of it, you know? Because honestly, I’m really, really tired.”
He sighs again, but this time the breath catches in his throat and he coughs a little to try and stifle it. When he continues, something warm runs down his cheek, but he barely notices. “I want to sleep so bad, you know, believe me I do, but I can’t, I fucking can’t, because my brain won’t shut the fuck up, and I’m so sick and tired of it.”
“Isak, hey.” Even whispers, almost urgently, one hand going out to touch Isak on the side of his face but the smaller man moves away from him, not ready to be comforted yet. He isn’t finished. His heart is still raising in his chest.
“It’s not okay Even.” He breathes out, voice catching again. “I know it’s not, but I just can’t sleep, and I’m sorry, but there is nothing you can do about it, so I just didn’t want to bother you…”
“You’re never bothering me Isak.” Even protests firmly, eyebrows drawing together as he tries to get Isak to listen to him again. Isak stubbornly denies it.
“But I am - I am, aren’t I? Because I don’t want you to…”
“Isak, listen here.” Even cuts him off, and Isak shuts up, swallowing back the messy stream of words that are ready to tumble out of his mouth. “You’re not bothering me. You never could be bothering me. I love you, stupid.”
He takes Isak’s hand and places a gentle kiss on the knuckles, smiling sweetly when Isak looks uncertain on how to react. “And I’m not blind. I can see that you’re struggling, I have noticed it for quite some time now, I were just hoping… waiting for you to come to me about it. I didn’t want to pry, because I know that you don’t like it when I do that, and that you normally just need some time alone before you’re ready to talk about it, but…”
He trails off, smile wiping off from his face. Isak shudders as Even continues: “You’ve been doing this dance for months now and I just want you to know that I’m here. I’m here, always.”
“I know.” Isak whispers, and suddenly Even’s thumb brushes over his cheek. He frowns when something wet is smothered out over his skin. When had he started crying?
“I know.” He repeats again, almost desperately, and his breath hitches. Even sighs, and his face twists into something contorted by pain, grabbing Isak by the shoulders and forcing him into a bone crushing hug. Isak lets himself be manhandled, falling limply into Even’s embrace. “I know.” He whispers one last time, closing his eyes and breathing out heavily against Even’s warm body.
He is safe here, in Even’s arms, and no matter what, he is not alone.