Sisu and You (Sisu x Human Male Reader)

The Pipe Cleaner

Frigid winter air fills your house as you make your way to your bedroom to retire for the night. Everything that needed to be done, has and your reward is a half and one hour of the pre-sleep train of thought, shovelling semi-coherent thoughts and ramblings into the boiler until the smoke and labour fogs your brain enough that you pass out. You replace your day clothes with sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt, and throw the old garments into the laundry basket for tomorrow. You uncover your queen-size and drop yourself in the middle, relishing a bit in the cool feeling of your room. All windows are open – the cold air motivates you into staying under the covers and makes breathing effortless. It would help if you switched the desk lamp off, but the train doesn't allow operators a few seconds to ensure all non-railway-related details are accounted for. The open curtains don't count either. Hop aboard, son. You don't wanna miss work. You'll deal with them eventually, but for now, start shovelling. And shovel you did, and quite vigorously at that. It wasn't long before your eyelids start letting gravity take hold of them, before you remember that you still had to cross those T's. You have to pull those curtains shut and turn the lamp off, but that means getting out of bed and off the train, just to start the whole ritual all over again. Ultimately, the forces of nature prevailed, and your tired, fading, groggy self concedes. Not long after, you succumb to your natural cycle, the atmosphere filling your ears with the still suburban sounds of rustling leaves, an eventual car, the wind flowing quietly across each gap and crevasse and into your room...

BANGBANGBANGBANG

That's not the wind. You make your best meerkat impression and dart up from your position. "What was that?" Probably just the roof struts. Ehh, nothing important. You sigh and slump back down into bed, shovelling some more thoughts. You almost thought that someone was at the door, but this late? Who, with nothing important to do, goes and knocks on your door in this weather? Certainly not thieves; they wouldn't even bother with that. It's not like your neighbourhood is a hotspot for hooligans to just ding-dong random people's houses and book it. Hold on, that makes this even weirder.

You really need to turn off that l-

BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG

Okay. That was the door, and someone is knocking on it. Wait, but if someone is at my door, at this time of night and in this weather, what sort of business could they possibly ha-

"Hello?"

A low, hushed, and slightly raspy voice propagated through the atmosphere and hit your eardrums, and that's all it took for you to vault out of your bed, your room, and into the hallway to deal with the situation. With foot after cold, slow, naked foot, you tread your way through the darkness to the entrance portal. You grab the house keys from the hanger, and thumb through the set until you singled out the ones for the front door and gate. You unlock the front door, fighting through the cold touch that all the metals are inflicting upon your hands. You grab the door handle, twist it down, and pull towards you. The first thing that comes to attention is the blast of winter draining what little heat you still had in your face. Right afterwards, you look upon who is apparently the source of the knocking. It's definitely someone, but you couldn't make out a single detail in the figure standing opposite you. Better find out more, then.

"What are you doing here?" You have to start somewhere.

"Hey, can I stay here for a bit?" A question to answer yours. We're off to a great start.

"Wait, why here? Isn't there some other place-" You pray that another question doesn't come out of the figure's mouth - you don't want to pile confusion on top of all the inconvenience you've just put yourself through.