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1 A.M.
It’s another weekday night where Julian wakes with a start.
Fuck, fuck this shit, he curses, haphazardly throwing the covers off this body and kneeling on his bed to attempt to fix the creaky window slamming open and shut every 5 minutes. After a couple seconds, he gives up, groaning and gathering his pillow and blanket before heading out to the couch in the other room.
2 A.M.
Julian’s shivering and his teeth are chattering when he wakes up, blanket pulled up to his chin, feet exposed to the chilly air. Christ. The living room had a serious insulation problem.
Goosebumps rise on his legs during another fated attempt to fall back asleep, and after 10 minutes of restlessness, he sits up completely and stares at the wooden door across his field of vision. He gets up, cool tile beneath his feet as he shuffles down the hall.
He stops in front of the closed door, sighing.
2:21 A.M.
“Al.”
There’s a noise, barely a grunt, then a shift in position.
“Psst. Al.”
Albert peeks open one eye, looking over his shoulder at the slouched figure in the dark.
“Huh, Julian? What?”
Fuck. He sounds tired. Julian shifts his weight onto the other foot and bites his lip.
“My window’s fucked.”
“Mmm. I’ll look into it tomorrow, Jules.” He turns back around.
“Can I… like is it okay if I sleep here tonight?”
There’s a silence, and both boys don’t move until Albert murmurs, “Yeah, yeah. Go on.”
Julian nods, putting his pillow next to Albert’s and climbing onto the soft mattress, pulling the covers over his chest. He faces the dark.
“Night.”
“Mm.”
4 A.M.
Albert opens his eyes to his alarm clock blinking. He groans softly, about to roll over when he feels someone laying beside him. Confused, he squints into the dark, barely making out Julian’s features. Albert doesn’t remember him coming in.
Julian’s laying on his side, facing toward Albert, lips parted and Albert then notices that his arm is outstretched and laying across Albert’s torso. He feels like he should move, so he squirms a little, trying hard not to wake the other up. A noise rises from Julian, and the singer ducks his head down into the junction of Albert’s shoulder and neck, arm placed gingerly on his chest.
Albert believes he stops breathing.
4:48 A.M.
Julian breathes in a familiar scent, eyes fluttering open to find his body encased. He’s unable to move — there’s an arm around his waist, and his legs are tangled in another pair. He vaguely remembers entering Albert’s room to sleep, and soon he’s not thinking about it anymore as he’s drifting off.
7 A.M.
Albert shouldn’t be, but he is. He doesn’t want to be, but he does.
He’s staring down at the sleeping man on his chest, taking mental notes of how his eyelashes fan his cheeks, the undertone of the blush on his tan skin. He never noticed how naturally pouty his lips were, or the mole on his jaw, or the small spotted acne on his cheeks.
Albert thought he was a work of art. But he would never admit it. Not to Julian, at least.
He thinks about all the times he’s stolen glances at Julian when nobody was paying attention. He thought nothing of it at the time, just wanting to check to see if he was alright. However, now it seemed like every second looking at Julian wasn’t one wasted.
“Albert?”
Albert blinks, focusing his eyes. Julian’s chin is propped up on his chest and his eyes are half-lidded.
“What? Nothing. You can keep sleeping.”
Julian lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “No, I mean.. you’re awake,” he pauses, “and your hand is on my waist.”
Albert lets out an apologetic noise, removing his hand. He clears his throat awkwardly, “Yeah, I just woke up, same as you, so.”
Julian looks away, cheek pressed against fabric. “Yeah.” His hip suddenly feels cold.
“Julian.”
“Yeah?”
“Why’d you come in?”
“I told you,” he snorts, “my window’s messed up. Keeps banging.”
Albert smirks, looking up at the ceiling. “And the couch?”
“Too cold.”
“Ah, right.”
Julian raises an eyebrow, turning to face Albert once again. “What?”
“Nothing, Jules. It’s still early, you should sleep some more.” Albert mentally smacks himself in the face.
“Pfft. Why, so you can stare at me some more?”
Albert’s eyes widen, and he nervously laughs it off. “Yeah, sure, in your dreams, man. I woke up the same time as—“
“Shut up,” Julian snaps, sitting up. Albert swallows, afraid he’s done something terribly wrong. Julian peels the covers off both of them, placing himself directly in Albert’s lap, straddling him. “Just shut the fuck up,” the harsh tone of his voice betrays his facial expression as he all but smashes their lips together.
Teeth rubbing against teeth, Julian cradles Albert’s jaw in his hand as he tilts his head to kiss him almost angrily. He hates Albert, how fucking obvious he can be yet so completely in denial. It infuriated him how he couldn’t just be upfront when they were best friends.
Yet, when Albert’s arms snake around his waist, fingernails digging into the skin underneath his shirt, Julian’s hostility melts away. He’s kissing back, biting on Julian’s lower lip hard enough to bleed.
Julian’s the first to pull away, Albert chasing after his lips. “Gonna stop being a dumb fuck now?”
“Yes,” Albert breathes. He’s holding onto Julian’s hips for dear life.
“Good,” Julian presses their foreheads together, and suddenly, as if in a split second, Julian’s on his back, Albert pressing his hips into him and nipping at his neck. Julian throws his head back.
They had a long day ahead of them.