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Cherry couldn’t sleep.
Well, in fairness, he actually had been sleeping. But then he’d woken up, lie there for a minute waffling about whether or not he really had to pee because he’d rather not get up, decided he might as well just get it over with than spend more time not-sleeping, then ended up getting a drink of water after because he hated bed breath but then kicked himself because now he’d be up again in an hour or two having to pee and—
Anyway. Here he was. Totally, annoyingly awake.
With Joe totally, annoyingly, obliviously asleep next to him.
Two grown-ass men snuggled (Cherry cringed the second his mind supplied ‘snuggled’) in bed together.
How ridiculous. What would people think?!
He could argue that this was perfectly natural for them, that they’d been doing it since they were children. But he doubted that explanation would actually help matters any.
Well. It wasn’t anyone’s damn business, was it?
Since he was fucking awake anyway, Cherry rolled onto his side, propping up slightly on an elbow, chin in his hand so he could glare properly at Joe sprawled on his back (shirtless—always fucking shirtless), arms out wide, snooooozing away.
Cherry frowned but truth be told, he didn’t exactly…hate it.
Joe, the asshole jerk gorilla that he was, was undeniably gorgeous. Cherry would never tell him so, of course, but with him asleep like this Cherry could actually take a moment and…appreciate.
Cherry had never slept for shit. He didn’t know why. Maybe he was just fussy, as his mother claimed. Maybe it was his hyperactive mind. Maybe it was a curse or karma or…maybe it didn’t actually matter. But then he’d found Joe (literally found him, out aimlessly wandering around) and it was…
Hmm.
Cherry poked Joe’s cheek experimentally.
It was like finding something he didn’t know he’d lost, he supposed.
Sure, it sounded pretty embarrassingly sappy to put it that way and he hadn’t actually put that much thought into it at the time (he’d been five) but they’d clicked immediately. Yeah, sure, they’d bickered and fought and tussled and whatever (they still did, amazing how much didn’t change in twenty-ish years) but that was just…part of it.
“I swear, Kojiro, why do you put up with him?” Cherry’s mom had asked (probably only half-joking) after a particularly loud and pointless squabble just a few months after they’d met.
Joe frowned for a second, blinking cutely in confusion before hugging Cherry around the neck and beaming. “Because Kaoru’s my best friend!”
Cherry rolled his eyes at the memory, but maybe couldn’t help smiling just a little.
He reached over, barely brushing his fingertips through Joe’s hair, curling a finger around that ridiculous cowlick twanging off the top of his head that Cherry hated himself for thinking was cute.
He’d always loved Joe’s curls. This was the longest Joe’s hair had ever been, but as children it had gotten long enough to curl adorably along his neck, his head a wild mop of wavy green. When he’d cut it in middle school for some stupid girl, Cherry had been furious. Careful not to say anything or to let it show how livid he was, of course, but furious all the same.
He indulged in another slight brush through; that girl was ancient history. But Cherry was still here. Playing with Joe’s long, curly hair as he slept.
He couldn’t help but feel just a bit victorious.
Cherry caught a glimpse at the digital display on his bracelet and sighed in exasperation at the time.
Cherry had never slept for shit. But for some reason, next to Joe…
When he was little, he’d just taken it for granted. Their first sleepover was the first time Cherry had actually slept the whole night through. (His mom was ready to adopt Joe on the spot—sadly, Joe would’ve probably agreed.)
They’d kept up the habit longer than was probably acceptable. But it kind of just…happened…out of necessity. How many times had they just been hanging out, maybe sitting a little too close (how else could they share a magazine or a tiny cell phone screen? or even a laptop?) and it would just feel too easy, too comfortable, too safe and Cherry would just kind of drift off.
And Joe would let him.
Every time.
So, Cherry thought to himself, this was definitely Joe’s fault. He was totally to blame for them ending up like this. He should’ve said something, anything—all it would have taken was a singular denial or even just a bit of hesitance and Cherry would have never brought it up again. But no. Instead Joe acted perfectly okay with it—encouraged it, even.
So yes it was definitely all Joe’s fault that they were still having sleepovers (and sharing a bed) into their mid-twenties.
Cherry hummed a little sigh (or sighed a little hum), careful to stay quiet. Joe didn’t stir.
Cherry dared rest a hand on Joe’s chest, thumb grazing his collarbone.
Would they still be having sleepovers into their late twenties? Mid-thirties? Early…sixties?
He smiled just a little at the thought, a chaotic, wobbly mix between sad and hopeful.
Joe going to Italy had fucked him up. Cherry had never told Joe that—hell, why would he? Besides, on some level he had to begrudgingly admit that Joe probably knew.
It just never occurred to him that Joe would actually leave, do something on his own, entirely for himself, something without Cherry. And do it so effortlessly, the asshole. It was good—obviously, it was good. For both of them. Hell, pouring himself into his work to distract (try to distract?) himself from the empty hole Joe left behind is what ultimately made him rich(er) and famous.
He’d had ideas for Carla since high school, sure. But if Joe had stayed, if Cherry hadn’t been so damn lonely bored, who’s to say that Carla would have ever been born?
And it went without saying how good the experience was for Joe—
Cherry pursed his lips in irritation.
—since he returned beautifully bronzed, a brilliant chef, and (Cherry’s mouth definitely did not water just now) deliciously disgustingly ripped.
Ugh. What a fucking jerk.
His wrist was getting sore so he carefully scooted a little closer, lacing his fingers together and cupping them over Joe’s shoulder and resting his cheek on top.
Joe had always been cute, then even kind of handsome. But this..? This wasn’t fair.
Visiting him in Italy, sharing that comically tiny bed in Joe’s teeny apartment, was the best sleep Cherry’d had in a year.
Since Joe had left.
That was when he finally had to look at…it. Think about it. Admit it. Joe was his peace. He was just comfortable and safe and good.
A year later at the airport, watching Joe’s face light up as he found him in the crowd waiting at arrivals and then he just smiled, huge and genuine (like Joe himself), Cherry felt like his heart had finally come home.
Cherry sighed, then held his breath, making sure Joe still slept unaware.
His fingers relaxed, sliding apart so that his cheek rested directly against the skin of Joe’s shoulder.
Why was he always so fucking warm?
Cherry glowered even as he gave in and nuzzled closer. Of course he was warm. He was fucking sunshine incarnate. Very carefully, he placed a hand in the middle of Joe’s chest, resting his palm against that steady heartbeat.
Sometimes Cherry wondered if, before they were born, heaven put all of his happiness into Joe for safekeeping.
To this day, Cherry refused to call it love. Not because he hated that word (he did) and found it embarrassing (it was) and overused (incredibly) but because…it just wasn’t enough.
There were so many types of love: familial love, romantic love, platonic BFF love…but what Cherry felt for Joe was…
Well.
All of it.
More than all of it.
The word “love” just wasn’t enough.
So he refused to call it that.
Fortunately for him, he didn’t need to actually call it anything. It didn’t need a word or a label or any sort of explanation because it would just live, unspoken, somewhere deep and secret inside of him and no one would be the wiser.
It had worked this long, right?
For a long moment, he just stared at Joe’s profile in the scant moonlight and...wondered. What would it be like to finally kiss him? Not the little kisses Cherry had stolen while Joe was sleeping back when they were kids before he started feeling a bit guilty for it (and okay, maybe there was that one time in high school but can you blame him) but a real, adult, reciprocated kiss.
Cherry snorted. Reciprocated. Yeah, right.
So instead he turned his head just a little and pressed a soft kiss to Joe’s shoulder.
Hopefully just that little bit was alright. He could have that much, couldn’t he? He was debating whether it was acceptable to indulge in one more when he let out a yawn and his eyelids fluttered closed.
Cherry had never slept for shit.
Until he started sleeping with Joe.
Joe waited until Cherry’s breathing deepened before slowly cracking an eyelid. With a little smirk, he carefully reached over and thumbed a bit of escaping drool from the corner of Cherry’s mouth, maybe letting his thumb caress Cherry’s lips just a second too long.
“Just gonna stare at a guy and poke at him while he’s sleeping? Weirdo,” Joe muttered fondly. He turned onto his side, folding Cherry into his arms, pulling him to his chest. With an amused smile he kissed Cherry’s forehead before tucking him under his chin. “Though I guess I’m not one to talk.”