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Claude's tired. Not the normal tired, but the kind of bone deep tired that builds up over years of high stakes sleepless nights. Just like every night though, he pushes through the exhaustion until the candle on his desk burns out. Running a war isn't easy, but if he tries to keep working he's certain he'll make a fatal miscalculation that everyone around him will pay for. He rubs his hand against his forehead and sets about organizing things enough that the him of the morning will have an easier time making sense of things. Once he's done, he sets about going to his room. All he does is blink, but he's suddenly outside of his door. This isn't the first time something like this has happened, but it still leaves him off kilter every time. The feeling of being out of control of his own actions makes him sick, but the only thing he can do at the moment is go to sleep and wake up back to normal. He unlocks his door and steps in, ready to collapse into bed. The plans are interrupted though by a certain green-haired mage sprawled out across his bed with his nose buried in a book.
"You're back," Linhardt greets him, looking up with a yawn. Claude finds himself unable to do more than squint at him, but Linhardt just goes back to reading while Claude tries to figure out if this is the strangest hallucination he's had yet. He's too tired to keep standing, so he accepts this as his late night reality and shuts the door behind him. He sets about changing out of his clothes into something more suited for sleep, keeping on eye fixed on the man in his bed at the same time. When he's done changing, he's certain Linhardt isn't a hallucination, but that does nothing to explain his presence whatsoever. He walks over to the bed and prepares to say anything to get Linhardt out of his room.
"Move over," he says, blinking at the fact that the words coming out of his mouth are the opposite of what he meant to say.
"I'm comfortable," Linhardt sighs, "just climb over me." Claude narrows his eyes, but his body moves without his permission and before long he's pressed up against the wall covered in blankets. Linhardt didn't just crawl into Claude's bed for no reason, he brought extra blankets to make himself comfortable, and Claude's pretty sure the pillow under his head is much softer than usual. He should probably be worried about the fact that Linhardt broke into his room, probably dug through his things, and didn't feel the need to sneak around about it. Maybe the two of them have gotten too close, too many shared moments that kept repeating to the point that Lin can do something like this and Claude's body accepts it when his mind rejects it. Once he's gotten comfortable, Linhardt places his bookmark in his book. He leans over to set it on Claude's bedside table, blows out the candle that was flickering, and curls up against Claude's side like it's the most natural place for him to be. He's dead asleep before he can even blink.
When Claude wakes up, he feels more rested than he has in a long time. There are birds chattering outside his window, and the sunlight is shining through the panes. That sets off alarm bells in Claude's head, he never sleeps in past the sunrise. He tries to sit up, but is stopped by a heavy weight on his chest. He looks down and Linhardt is still curled up on him, face resting in the crook of his neck. He tries to carefully move himself out of Linhardt's grip, but suddenly the arms draped across his chest are keeping him down.
"I need to get up," Claude pleads, somehow struggling to escape the tight grip keeping him in place.
"You woke me up," Linhardt grumbles in reply, ignoring his statement as he gets comfortable again.
"Lin, there's too much to-" he starts, but a hand slaps itself against his mouth.
"I'm still sleeping, whatever it is can wait til I'm done," Linhardt informs him.
"Lin please,I really need to get back to work."
"What you really need is to relax," Linhardt says in the tone that means he's not budging. "You've been running yourself ragged. I think that's more dangerous than you sleeping in for one morning. Now stop talking so I can finish sleeping." Claude could probably fight his way out of Linhardt's grip, but a vulnerable part of him refuses to move. He should get to work. Running a war effort uses every inch of the intelligence he's built up, but he really is exhausted. Even though he woke up on his own, he can feel his body relaxing back into sleep. Maybe just this once he can let himself rest.
He closes his eyes and tries to slip back into sleep, but he finds himself unable to do it. He lays there trying not to think about anything that'll keep him awake, but his thoughts are already racing with everything that needs to be done. He forces himself to stay as still as possible, hoping that Linhardt won't wake up again. This turns out to be in vain. A few minutes later, Linhardt sighs deeply and pushes himself up so that he's looking down at Claude.
"You think too loudly," he complains, "how am I supposed to sleep under these conditions?" Claude starts to respond with a teasing statement, but before he can get any words out, Linhardt leans down to kiss him. That effectively stops Claude's mind in its tracks, fully focused on the way Linhardt kisses him again. The kisses don't stop coming after the first, each one just as soft as the previous. When Linhardt brings up a hand to gently cup his face, Claude finds himself wanting to run away. He doesn't though, he let's Linhardt keep kissing him until he's more relaxed then he's been in years.
"Go back to sleep, if you disturb me again I'll stop fighting," Linhardt murmurs against his lips before lying back down. This time, Claude has no problems listening to him, and drifts off to the warmth building in his chest.