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I’m wondering, are you my best friend?
Feels like a river’s rushing through my mind.
I wanna ask you if this is all just in my head.
Flash smells nice. Okay, correction – Flash always smells nice, but tonight he smells… particularly sweet.
His hair is still fairly damp against his pillow, just the back strands, the loose ones dusting over his forehead are fluffy and soft. The smell might be from the shampoo he used or the perfume of the body wash that leaves his skin smooth and clean. Whatever it is, Timber likes the smell.
Timber turns his head away from Flash and looks up at his wooden ceiling. The tick of the clock fills the room, minus from the steady breaths coming from Flash as he sleeps. Timber’s still awake; he can’t sleep under the yet-to-set burning sun and the painting of pink and yellow clouds beyond his windows.
Timber guesses the number of seconds it took for him to give in and look back at Flash.
He guesses thirty. Maybe twenty. Nineteen sounds about right. Thirty’s too generous.
His chest warms at the sight of him. Summer Sunday sunset light peaks through the curtain and past the gaps it can find, relaxing on the dips of Flash’s face. Timber freezes as Flash turns in his sleep, resting on his side. He slowly shifts onto his side too, facing him. Timber looks at the way Flash’s cheek squished against his pillow. He’s deep in sleep already and he knows he won’t wake up anytime soon, so Timber uses that chance to gaze at him.
He’s an absolute angel. So handsome and so gorgeous, reality can’t compare. From soft but high cheekbones to wild eyes.
Flash’s eyes. He can’t quite recall the exact colour of them but he knows they’re blue. A really pretty blue. Timber’s seen it before, it’s a flower colour blue, however, more bright. The wildness comes from that, wild like meadow flowers and grass in the wind. He can’t see them now and he’s grateful for that. He knows all too well what a single look from those eyes will do to him in such proximity.
Timber hears his heart thump as his sight lingers. His eyes keep falling to the boy’s lips. He finds himself eagerly stealing glances at the curve of his cupid’s bow, the perfect pink shade and Timber’s mind, even with exhaustion laying on him, wonders what kissing him would feel like. Just a simple touch, a graze, faintly ticklish.
Timber blinks a few more times than usual. The wind blows into his room and it brushes over his feet. Some of it reaches their hair, tousling Timber’s and moving a few of Flash’s short locks on the pillow. He’s tempted to run his hands through that hair, let his hand slip to Flash’s jaw.
He pulls in his eyebrows and squeezes his eyes together. As if that’d get rid of the urge. He wants to force himself to tear his eyes away, tell himself the yearning won’t do him anything. It’s torture; a chain of misery falls to his chest when he remembers he can’t have the person in front of him.
So close yet so out of reach.
Timber wants to slip his hand along that waist of his, sleep closer to him. He’d fall asleep faster that way, nose taking in the sweet scent and coaxing him to sleep.
He doesn’t. His hand stays in its place.
Timber breathes in one more look at Flash and sighs, closing his eyes.
My heart is pounding tonight.
I wonder if you are too good to be true
and would it be all right if I pull you closer?