disclaimer: neither of these characters belong to me.

"Get up, asshole."

Barkovitch had found that Olson was quite a bit more tolerable when he was half-asleep. His mousy brown hair was all that was visible of his face, the idiot had buried his face in one of the cushions and had draped himself across the large beige-colored couch.

"G'way." He groped blindly for Barkovitch and his hand ended up colliding with the coffee table. Olson's body appeared to have half-slid off the couch and Barkovitch smirked slightly at the awkward position he'd ended up in.

"It's almost fucking noon."

"Wh'givesashit," Olson mumbled into the pillow. "Lemme sleep."

"Nobody sleeps this late!"

"I do." Olson's hand found Barkovitch's arm and he began dragging Barkovitch closer to him. "C'mere."

Barkovitch rolled his eyes and muttered some colorful swears as he was dragged into the cocoon of blankets and cushions Olson had made for himself. "Let go of me, you little shit."

"Who're y't' callme 'little'?" Olson wrapped his arms around Barkovitch, who squirmed like a little kid. One of the advantages to cuddling Barkovitch was that he was so tiny that one could basically envelope him.

"Fuck you," Barkovitch said under his breath. Olson laughed tiredly and reached up to ruffle Barkovitch's hair, ignoring his irritated protests of "Don't touch me!" and "I don't know where those fucking hands of yours have been!"

"Jus' relax," Olson said, wrapping his arms around Barkovitch tighter.

"Help! I've been trapped!" Barkovitch yelped, trying to make an overdramatized hand gesture but ending up with his arms entangled in the blankets and around Olson's shoulders.

"D'you give up?" Olson kissed his cheek and Barkovitch surrendered the struggle to get out of the embrace.

"Okay, fine. Just don't slobber on my fucking face!"

"I can slobber on your face all I want," Olson said, smiling against Barkovitch's cheek.

"Obnoxious shitstick," Barkovitch muttered.

"You know you love me." Olson kissed his cheek again, and while the other was distracted, Barkovitch was able to squirm sufficiently as to send both of them tumbling off of the couch and on top of each other.

"Fuck," Olson said, rubbing his head. "You little shit."

Barkovitch imitated Olson's half-asleep slur. "You know you love me."

Olson pulled Barkovitch into a somewhat 'slobbery' kiss, causing him to squirm again and make small interjections of disgust. "Yeah, I know it, you little pain in the ass."

there are like two fanfics of this pairing in existence there should be more. written with an imagineyourotp prompt.