Chapter Text
The light creeping through the blinds felt too aggressive.
Dylan groaned, dragging the blanket over his head as if that might somehow block it out. His mouth was dry, his head felt stuffed with cotton, and every time he shifted even slightly his brain sloshed around in a way that made him immediately regret it.
So he stilled.
For a while he focused on nothing but breathing and waiting for the room to stop spinning.
Gradually the world started filtering back in around him.
The faint hum of the refrigerator somewhere in the apartment. The occasional quiet tick of pipes inside the walls.
And then, slowly, pieces of the night before.
Music that had been too loud.
The cold air on the porch.
The feeling of sitting outside in the dark.
Someone’s car.
Jun.
Dylan’s eyes opened.
He blinked up at the ceiling, squinting as thin stripes of pale morning light cut through the blinds and stretched across the room.
Jun?
The thought lingered there for a moment while his brain tried to piece things together.
Very carefully, Dylan pushed himself up onto his elbows.
Instant regret followed.
“Fuck,” he muttered hoarsely.
His head throbbed immediately in protest.
He scrubbed both hands over his face and sat there for a moment, breathing slowly until the dizziness settled a little.
When he finally lowered his hands, something on the bedside table caught his attention.
A bottle of water.
And two painkillers placed neatly beside it.
Dylan stared at them for a few seconds.
His brain lagged behind the obvious conclusion, still slow and foggy.
Then the memory surfaced.
Jun guiding him out of the car. Jun’s arm around his shoulders as they walked inside. Jun’s quiet voice telling him to lie down.
“Oh,” Dylan murmured softly.
He grabbed the bottle quickly and twisted the cap open, taking several long gulps. The cold water felt incredible going down his throat.
After swallowing the pills, he leaned back against the headboard, running a hand slowly through his hair.
Jun had brought him home and had taken care of him.
The thought settled somewhere deep in his chest, warm and a little complicated.
After a minute he swung his legs off the bed and stood, moving cautiously like someone who didn’t fully trust gravity yet.
The bedroom door was cracked open.
Dylan padded out into the hallway.
The apartment was quiet in that late-morning way where the world hadn’t fully woken up yet. Soft sunlight filled the living room.
And there, stretched awkwardly across the couch, was Jun.
Dylan stopped walking.
Jun had one arm hanging off the side of the couch, fingers almost touching the floor. One of Dylan’s throw blankets had slipped halfway down his side during the night. His hoodie was wrinkled, and his hair stuck out slightly in the back where it had been pressed against the couch cushion.
He looked deeply, completely asleep.
Dylan leaned lightly against the wall without realising he’d done it.
Jun had stayed.
The realisation settled over him slowly.
Jun could’ve just dropped him off and left.
Instead he’d slept on Dylan’s couch.
Dylan’s eyes drifted over the scene again.
Jun’s chest rose and fell slowly.
Every now and then his fingers twitched faintly against the couch cushion.
Dylan felt something tight and unfamiliar pull gently in his chest.
Because Jun looked comfortable here, as if he belonged in the space.
Dylan looked away quickly, suddenly aware that he’d been staring.
Right. Hangover. Focus.
He moved quietly into the kitchen, careful with each step so he wouldn’t make too much noise. The kettle filled with water under the sink faucet, the sound surprisingly loud in the quiet apartment.
Then, Dylan heard the couch shift slightly behind him.
He froze for a moment.
When he glanced over his shoulder, Jun had moved a little under the blanket, his brows faintly furrowed as if something had pulled him halfway out of sleep.
Dylan stayed still, watching.
Jun shifted again, dragging the blanket a little higher over himself before blinking slowly into the light. For a moment his eyes looked unfocused.
Then his gaze drifted across the room, landing on Dylan.
Recognition softened his expression almost immediately.
“Oh,” Jun murmured, his voice rough with sleep. “Hey.”
Dylan lifted one hand in a small, slightly awkward wave.
“Hey.”
Jun pushed himself up slowly, rubbing a hand over his face before letting it fall back into his hair. He sat there for a second, shoulders still heavy with sleep, the blanket pooled around his waist.
When he looked back up, his eyes lingered on Dylan a little more carefully this time.
“How’s your head?” he asked.
Dylan let out a quiet huff of a laugh and leaned his hip against the kitchen counter.
“I feel like I got run over by something.”
Jun’s mouth curved into a sleepy smile.
“Yeah,” he hummed. “That sounds about right.”
Dylan rubbed the back of his neck, sighing, “That bad?”
Jun leaned back against the couch and stretched his arms over his head until his back gave a soft pop. He exhaled slowly, then looked back at Dylan with a hint of amusement.
“You tried to explain gravity to a porch railing.”
Dylan stared at him.
“You’re making that up.”
Jun shrugged, completely unbothered.
“You seemed very committed to the conversation.”
Dylan groaned and covered his face with one hand.
“Please stop.”
Jun laughed softly.
The sound was quiet, but it filled the apartment in a way that made the space feel warmer.
For a moment neither of them said anything.
Dylan turned back to the counter and grabbed another mug. After pouring a second cup, he carried it over and held it out.
“Coffee,” he muttered.
Jun looked mildly surprised but took it. “Thanks.”
Dylan lingered for half a second like he meant to say something else, then seemed to think better of it and retreated back towards the counter.
Jun took a small sip before glancing around the apartment, his gaze eventually dropping to the couch beneath him.
“You have a surprisingly comfortable couch,” he suddenly admitted.
Dylan blinked.
“You actually slept there?”
Jun nodded.
“It was late.”
Dylan watched him for a moment.
There was something strangely grounding about seeing Jun there in the morning light, still half-asleep, wrapped in Dylan’s blanket like he belonged in the apartment.
Dylan cleared his throat slightly and looked down at his mug.
“Hey, Jun?”
Jun glanced up.
“Yeah?”
“…thanks.”
Jun held his gaze for a second.
Then his expression softened into that quiet, familiar smile Dylan knew so well.
“Anytime.”
Dylan suddenly became very interested in his coffee, ducking his head as he lifted the mug to his lips, hoping the steam curling upwards would hide the colour creeping across his cheeks.