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The blinds were closed. They were blackout blinds, too. Lister's room was dark, and yet his eyes refused to close as though a torch was shining on them.
He tried not to check the time, but he figured it had been at least a few hours since he went to bed. Lister tried not to let that get to him.
His mind was going a mile a minute. He rolled over and shoved his face into the pillow, bringing his duvet over his head. Lying like this made him feel like he was suffocating, but he needed something to overrule the buzz of his brain.
It seemed as though every muscle in his body was tensed.
Lister turned his head to the other side. He couldn't see shit in the dark, but he had the sensation that everything was falling into him.
He waited. He turned over. He waited.
Nothing, not even a smidgen of drowsiness, came to grace him.
Lister kicked the covers away, grabbed his phone blindly and left his room. He made his way down the staircase and entered the living room. The lights were on, but dim. He turned them all the way up and perched on the arm of the sofa.
Blearily, he searched through his music and picked something old that would play for a while. The first track sounded out through the speaker of his phone. He turned the volume down to a minimum and tried to focus on it as he stared at the wall.
The singing, the notes, didn't make any sense.
His eyes unfocused, refocused, unfocused.
Lister hunched his shoulders and tightened his grip on his phone.
"Hey," came a voice - soft, but loud by comparison to the music.
Lister flinched violently and lost his balance. "Jesus fuck- " He crashed to the floor just as he processed that Jimmy was standing a few metres away from him.
"Shit- Lister, fuck, I'm so sorry- " he was saying, and then he was there in front of Lister, holding him gently.
Lister let out a breath. "It's fine, I'm fine," he insisted.
Jimmy frowned. "Come and sit on the sofa."
Lister followed him wordlessly.
His head fell onto Jimmy's shoulder. It made for a surprisingly comfortable pillow.
Music was still droning from his phone. Lister cleared his throat. "Sorry for waking you."
Jimmy made a noise that might have been a half-hearted laugh. "You didn't. It's only, like, midnight; I was awake anyway."
Midnight. Fuck, there were still so many hours to get through.
Lister closed his eyes. Unbidden, he began to speak. "Jimmy, I just feel so fucking awful all the time," he croaked, low in his throat.
Jimmy's arm curled around his back. He rubbed Lister's shoulder with his thumb - in support, or encouragement, or something.
"Like... I have a headache 24/7. And sometimes I get so fucking fidgety I can't- trust myself to hold shit properly. And I can't. Fucking. Sleep."
The words fell out of Lister's mouth easily.
"I'm... I'm glad I'm sober, like- I know it'll be good for me, I was sick of needing to be off my face all the time just to feel okay but- god, it's fucking terrifying how much this is affecting me." His voice wavered.
A tear ran down the side of his face, and he didn't wipe it away. He didn't want Jimmy to know he was crying. God, he was so tired.
"I can't deal with this shit, Jim," he continued, monotonous. "I know it's helping me, but I really hate therapy. I hate having to tear myself open for an hour, only to return to the normal world. And it just feels like I'm getting nowhere, like after the revelation of 'oh, you get high and hook up with people because you're starved of intimacy', like- what the fuck am I supposed to do to solve that?"
He was rambling. He was being too loud. Shit. He made his voice quieter. "I don't- I don't know what..."
Lister trailed off. He was drawing a blank. He wiped his eyes and felt Jimmy tense, probably at the realisation that he was gradually soaking his t-shirt. Fuck.
"Sorry for loading this on you." Lister let out a watery laugh.
Jimmy was quiet for a few seconds. "No, it's fine. I wanted to check up on you properly anyway."
Lister hummed.
He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of Jimmy rubbing his back. He steadied his breathing over the course of two, five, ten minutes.
"I think- " Lister began, but his throat seized up, threatening to let out another sob. He swallowed. "I think I need to do this differently. Getting sober, I mean." He adjusted the position of his head on Jimmy's shoulder.
"I don't...think I can do it like this."
Admitting it felt like the end of the world.
Lister blinked some tears out of his eyes. He got lost in the sensation of the droplets running down his cheeks.
Jimmy nodded. "You can still go to rehab, you know."
Lister shook his head quickly. "I really...don't want my life to stop for this." He exhaled slowly, shakily. "I think I'll just get nicotine patches or something."
"Alright."
Jimmy shifted so he could rest his head on top of Lister's.
"I'm glad you're, like, telling me this stuff."
Lister hummed.
Jimmy huffed out a laugh. He turned his head to bury his nose in Lister's hair. The warmth of his breath brought a comfort Lister didn't know he needed.
"You know, my therapist tells me I'm starved of intimacy too."
"Aww, Jimmy." Lister wrapped his arms around him. Jimmy curled into him, and Lister was suddenly very warm. "We should just try to nap together more, or something."
"Ha, yeah."
Lister tried to even out his breathing again. His eyes stung from crying. He felt drained from it, but that just meant he was drowsier than before.
"You know…"
Jimmy was playing with Lister's hair as he spoke. Lister made himself focus on the sound of his voice and the feeling of Jimmy's fingertips.
"You can come and sleep in my bed, if you want."
Lister's heart stopped beating.
"I find it comforting to sleep in the same bed as someone. So, if you're having trouble sleeping, you could just come to me."
Lister thought he might start crying again. That sounded so wonderful. In all likelihood, it wouldn't make much difference, and he would have to leave for fear that he might disturb Jimmy.
Even so, Lister found himself saying, "Yeah. Yeah, okay."
He was slow to actually get up. The two of them left the living room, Jimmy turning the lights off as they started down the hallway. Lister had to take a moment for his eyes to adjust.
Once at the top of the stairs, he turned towards his own bedroom. "'M gonna get a t-shirt," he explained.
He took a few steps, but Jimmy called to him. "Don't you sleep really warm, though?"
Lister glanced at him. "I mean, yeah."
"Come on." Jimmy nodded towards his bedroom door. "It's fine, honestly."
And then he went into his room, and Lister followed him. Jimmy got into bed, Lister closed the door, and their eyes met in the darkness. As he got in too, Lister concentrated on leaving just the right amount of space between them so that it wouldn't be weird.
They lay down, and Lister was beginning to regret his decision.
Jimmy turned to him. "If you steal the covers I will murder you," he whispered.
Lister let out a laugh. "Okay."
"Did you know," Jimmy's voice was slow with sleepiness, "that Angel - y'know, Angel who came to Kent with me, uh…"
"Don't know any other angels, Jim."
Except you, Lister's brain added. He shook the thought away.
Jimmy hummed. "She...she was like, 'you're probably gonna murder me, but it's okay because it's you'." He yawned. "It was well weird."
Lister rolled over to face him. He could just about see that his eyes were closed. "'Jimmy Kaga-Ricci could step on me and I'd thank him', or some shit."
That got him a laugh. Then Jimmy turned his head to stare at the ceiling. "Rowan steals the covers," he said after a while.
"Hm?"
"Rowan. He...steals the covers." He glanced at Lister. "Do not recommend napping with him."
Lister's face grew very hot. He thought about how strange it was that Jimmy was usually so grumpy when sleep-deprived, and yet here he was, joking around with Lister in the middle of the night.
"Do I get to rub it in his face if I don't steal the covers?"
"Absolutely."
Lister chuckled. He lowered his voice. "Well, I was gonna hog them just to piss you off, but now…"
He trailed off, and Jimmy laughed softly.
"Can't believe I'm still having sleepovers with my best friend at 20," Lister murmured.
"20 isn't old."
"Mm."
They were quiet for a bit. Lister was pretty sure Jimmy had drifted off. But then came his voice, barely audible.
"I'm so sorry you're going through all of this."
Lister swallowed. "It's- not your fault."
"I know. I mean- " Jimmy sighed to himself. "It's like...for so long, I was the only one in therapy. And now you- and Rowan, too, but- you've got shit to deal with. And it's out of my control, because it's not my shit to deal with. I...really hate that."
Lister leaned in, resting the side of his head on his hand. "Come on, Mr. Frodo. I can't carry the ring for you, but I can carry you."
He saw Jimmy smile. "Ugh. I really can't carry you, though. You're too heavy."
"Some fucking Samwise Gamgee you turned out to be."
"Okay. Okay, enough." Jimmy blindly searched for Lister's mouth with his hand, and ended up poking him in the face. "Sorry." He covered Lister's mouth.
Lister batted his hand away. They laughed, and Lister shifted closer to Jimmy.
Not for the first time, and definitely not the last time, he thought about kissing him.
He didn't know what to do. All of his attempts to get over him had been futile. He had thought for a little while that maybe he could get his shit together enough to have a shot with him.
But then he had actually kissed him, without asking, while drunk, and now he was in the aftermath of giving up all of his usual distractions.
Maybe he had messed this up for good.
Jimmy seemed to decide he wasn't up for talking anymore. "G'night."
"Night, Jim."
Lister lay on his back but kept looking at Jimmy the darkness. He thought about Jimmy insisting that it was okay for him so sleep here as he was.
It dawned on him that, if nothing else, Jimmy really wasn't upset with him for kissing him. Not anymore.
They were normal again, and Jimmy wanted him to know that.
Morning came and, as he predicted, Lister woke up before Jimmy did.
It was still dark in his room but there was light behind the curtains, so it was at least 5AM. And Lister hadn't taken more than an hour to get to sleep after Jimmy drifted off.
Which meant this probably actually helped him. At least a little bit. Lister didn't know what to make of that.
He propped himself up on his elbow and watched Jimmy as he slept. He couldn't ignore the thrill that went through him at the image of waking up next to him.
Lister carefully extracted himself from the covers and left the room-
- And came face to face with Rowan.
He was headed towards the top of the stairs and nodded at Lister in greeting. Lister smiled in response and didn't say anything, but Rowan had definitely seen which room Lister had come out of.
Rowan made it halfway down the stairs, then stopped. A second passed, and he turned and went right back up again.
Shit.
"Were you just in Jimmy's room?" he hissed.
How could he explain this without giving the wrong impression? "Yeah. I, uh, slept there last night."
Rowan frowned. "You slept together? Wait, I don't wanna know. Nevermind."
He went back downstairs, leaving Lister to decide what the hell to do next.
He couldn't let Rowan think they were hooking up, possibly ruin this newfound calm between him and Jimmy.
Lister chased after him, followed him into the kitchen. Now that they were out of earshot of Jimmy's room, he spoke.
"We didn't do anything, we basically just took a nap together," Lister insisted.
Rowan laughed. "Whatever you say, mate."
Lister sighed and resigned himself to the sofa. He found his phone on one of the cushions, having left it there last night. There were barely any new notifications, which was probably a new low for him, but what caught his attention was the time.
It was well past 8AM. Of course it was - Rowan was awake. Which meant he had slept roughly seven hours.
Lister didn't quite know how to process that. He liked the idea of this becoming a recurring thing, though. Since it helped him.
Rowan came to sit with him, a bowl of cereal in his hand, effectively pulling him from his thoughts. He didn't say anything, just sat and ate his breakfast.
Lister enjoyed the silent company. He opened his phone and browsed through Instagram for a while, but that could only do so much to distract him.
Rowan suggested they watch something and Lister agreed. Rowan found a TV show Lister didn't know the name of and pressed play.
After the first episode, Lister made himself some breakfast. After the second, Jimmy made an appearance to complain that Lister woke him up.
At that, Rowan raised an eyebrow at Lister, completely indiscreetly. But Jimmy seemed not to notice.
Jimmy joined them on the sofa and Rowan began to gently bother him about eating breakfast, and then Lister interrupted them by saying, "Guys. I slept for seven whole hours last night."
"Nice." Jimmy high-fived him.
"Good for you, mate," Rowan said, surprisingly void of sarcasm.
And Lister didn't quite manage to feel like it was a step forward. But Jimmy and Rowan helped. A lot.
For the time being, that was enough.