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In retrospect, you didn't think too long or too hard about it, but bashing your knees on the floor because you had been kicked out of bed was perhaps... the 'eye-opener', if you will. You thought perhaps him sleeping that way in a stark contrast to how he carried himself when he was awake was just another layer to his complexing being, one that you had yet to fully uncover or dig deep into to.
Though... the shit he was pulling in his sleep as of that moment compared to what he had been doing was the tip of iceberg. You just didn't know it.
Believing that Vergil was the prim and proper sleeper you thought he was had been a case of poor judgement on your behalf. That man was anything but an easy-going bedmate. It wasn’t your fault, you genuinely thought that from the way he carried himself he more than likely slept so still, and so light that a feather dropping would awaken him; anyone would think that. Hell, you thought sometimes that he probably didn’t even sleep. You were entirely wrong.
If you were being honest, you always conjured up images in your mind of the stoic half-demon sleeping like a vampire; body pin-straight lying on his back with his beloved Yamato clasped between his hands resting along the front of his body. You only thought so before your relationship grew from the trivial back and forth you two often engaged in; after becoming more intimate and eventually moving to share a bed together, you half-heartedly wanted nothing more than to smother him with a pillow. Yet, being able to see Vergil with his hair loose from its usual place and the furrow from his brow gone as he rested made it worth it.
Possibly.
Starting off, your lover was entirely too big for the antics he pulled in his sleep. Vergil was a whopping 6’5 – you didn’t even want to guess how much he weighed given whenever he rolled on top of you felt as if your lungs were being crushed – and it was a wonder how his feet didn’t hang off the end. The bed wasn’t too small, a queen-sized, but the points where you found yourself pushed to the edge had been just the beginning of a new petty war between you two.
You started resting your chilly feet on his lower back in retaliation, partly just to annoy him and also because Vergil’s body temperature ran like a furnace. You had to give it to him there, the harsh winters were comfortable since you could curl yourself around him wallowing in his heat albeit he would complain, but in the heat of summer was the time when your Scrooge decided he wanted to 'cuddle'. Vergil was never one for cuddling, what he did felt more punishing than relaxing when you could barely move in some of his favorite 'positions'.
(He definitely started doing it after the feet incident where you ‘accidentally’ ran your toes up his spine, cackling when he tensed and threw a nasty scowl over his shoulder.)
When you started waking in headlocks and body-locked positions with perspiration stuck to your back and Vergil breathing down your neck, you knew you had to step up your game. You had your fair share of falling asleep on Vergil’s shoulder and slobbering on his coat, and while he complained and would do his loud-ass sighing, you knew it didn’t bother him that much, particularly when he never would move you if you were napping. Mouth-breathing became a new tendency when you slept, one Vergil nagged about because apparently you ‘breathe too loud’ and ‘snore like Dante’. You disregarded him because you did not snore, and settled with your cheek either pressed against his pectoral or his bicep and rejoiced when you would wake up with dried saliva along your cheeks and lips and encrusted onto his skin. However, that flopped when he seemingly paid it no mind and one morning when you turned to give him a sweet good morning kiss, he caught your face between his hand and pinched your cheeks together eyeing you beneath his lashes.
“Your breath stinks.”
You can’t stand him.
Afterwards, it was small things such as hogging the blankets, taking the others’ pillow, or you being sprawled out in the center of the bed before Vergil came, to which he would promptly pick you up and either move you to your side or, if he was feeling mischievous, lay you on top of him. You supposed it was getting foolish when you both winded down to normal sleep behaviors, though the night you woke up in a panic because you were falling off the bed was the tipping point.
You barely managed a squeak when you felt yourself free-falling for a brief moment landing on your palms to keep from face-planting and smashing your nose. Blinking a couple times to register where you were and clearing your sleep-addled mind, you pushed upwards to sit on your bottom and peered over the mattress at your partner.
Did he kick you out of bed…
What the fuck.
You slowly stood, glaring at his sleeping face suddenly irritated with how lovely he looked sleeping. You could never tell if Vergil was faking sleep or not, his poker face was one in a million and provided the only times he cracked a smile was at the thought of fighting Dante you really couldn’t tell when he was being serious or actually teasing. Watching his chest fall in periodic bouts, you decided yes, he was asleep, but not for long.
“Vergil.”
Nothing. You leaned closer.
“Vergil.”
He didn’t even twitch. Squinting you brought your face dangerously close to his to see if you could gander a reaction. His senses were sharp; you were never able to sneak up on him with his hearing – and evidently your smell – and usually trying to give him a sneaky little peck stirred him, grumbling about how he can hear your breathing pick up and pulse increase.
Embarrassing.
Then again, you hoped Vergil didn’t wake up and see you hovering over him like some parched freak.
“Vergil,” you tried once more, only to end up sighing when he stretched a leg out. The man had the audacity to kick you out of your bed and continue sleeping afterwards in the middle of the bed. How were you supposed sleep with this beast in your bed who slept like he was dead? The moonlight glowing down through the window above the bed wasn’t helping your case in being mad at him when it shined right on his bare chest either.
When Dante had told you a relationship with Vergil wouldn’t be easy and you’d face hardships, you thought that meant the emotional trauma he had and him settling into the world once more. Not you seething at the side of your bed at three in the morning because your boyfriend was hogging the bed.
You sat down sighing before making a last ditch effort to try and at least move his arm so you could burrow underneath that at least. You really didn’t want to sleep on the couch downstairs using a pillow as a cover. Cursing him, you lifted his limp arm to roll underneath –
Only for the arm to snatch your waist and pull you down onto the mattress facing the ceiling. The bounce made you gasp as Vergil’s arm moved and his hand skimmed your upper arm until fingertips ghosted your shoulder and his hand rested at your nape. You purposefully dug your shoulder against his chest deeper as you turned your head to stare at his Adams apple.
“Vergil, are you awake or…”
Silence. Then, “No.”
You exploded.
“What do you mean ‘No’?! Were you awake that entire time just to sit and watch me suffer?”
His fingers resting on your nape squeezed slightly before letting off to linger on your skin there, “Why were you hovering over the bed ogling me?” You never got tired listening to his groggy, sleepy voice, it was enough to tingle your spine so close to your ear. You pushed it away though, opting to grit your teeth and ready to lay it on him.
“I was not ‘ogling’ you, who even says that. You kicked me out of the bed with your pterodactyl feet because you don’t know how to share a bed. I tried waking you up, but you sleep like a log,” you finished your rant jabbing a finger into chest and scratching a nail downwards.
Vergil pulled back a fraction looking somewhat insulted at the comment prior to sighing and lying his chin atop your head, “So noisy… I woke you.”
You frowned. Generally, he was biting back a response which would lead into a humorous insult match, yet he let it go instead pulling you closer and staying quiet. Had you said something wrong? Were his feelings hurt by the pterodactyl comment? Couldn’t have been, Vergil never cared when you made unusual jokes like that. Was it the sharing pass you made? You knew from small-talk Dante and Vergil fought constantly as children, over practically anything, but you knew it stimmed down to Vergil always being mad Dante would take his things from him – explaining the poetry book he adored with his initial carved into the front. Yet, that didn’t make sense for him to be mad. You thought back; you told him he kicked you out of bed, which was odd alone because he rarely jerked in his sleep unless he was –
Unless he was having a nightmare.
You nearly groaned, how did you forget that? He was more than likely kicking out fighting whatever was haunting his dream. Normally it was just noise and he’d wake himself up rolling away to deal with it himself, not one for sentimental words and reassuring touches. You pushed out a nearly inaudibly sigh, but you know his ears picked it up. He was waiting for you to respond as you turned to shove your face into his neck.
“Yeah, well, have many times have I woke you up,” you murmured, fluttering your eyelashes against his throat, bending a leg around his hip. Given, half the times you had woken him were when you had to pee and was trapped under his weight…
“Many.”
“…It was a rhetorical question.”
“You have woken me numerous times, usually because you want sex.”
“...”
“Hmm?”
“You didn’t have to explain why.”
He didn’t respond. Suddenly wide awake, you placed a hand on his chest and rose your leg to sit at his waist. Vergil sighed.
“I can’t sleep.”
“Mm. How interesting.”
“…You wanna –”
You didn’t get to finish when he rolled on top of you immediately giving you an answer with his lips.
