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Sometimes Edge felt like he could unlock all the secrets of the known universe if he just applied himself a bit better, and on those days he could walk a bit taller and think that yes, this was exactly where he was supposed to be. Other times, he felt like he could barely unlock a door, and on those days the world seemed a bit darker and lonelier.
Edge had started off the day walking tall, but now, sitting on the couch as the wind howled and the rain hit the building downward and sidewards and whichever way it really felt like and he’d turned the volume of the television up all the way and he still could barely hear it, now he was feeling as dark as the weather outside. He tried the volume once more, but full volume was still as high as it went and, frustrated, he turned the television off completely.
Bono gave him a gloomy look that Edge couldn’t quite figure, so he just shrugged in response and Bono smiled wanly, pulled his blanket closer and took another sip of his tea. Then he pulled his blanket closer still and shuddered. The heater was on high and not working. Edge had fiddled with it about five times that night but it hadn’t done much good. Nothing was doing much good. The night was a cold, dank waste.
It was a little after ten, and Edge decided to hell with it all, he was going to bed. He shucked off his shoes and lost his jacket and jeans, muttered a goodnight to the lump on the couch calling himself Bono, and climbed into bed. It took a while, but eventually the sheets started to warm. Edge watched listlessly as Bono got up and started to wander back and forth, the blanket still around his shoulders and trailing behind him like a cape. He went from the bathroom to his bed, then back to the bathroom, then determinedly to his suitcase and Edge rolled over towards the wall and closed his eyes.
The room eventually went dark and Edge listened for Bono’s breathing, but the rain continued to hit the roof like broken glass with no end in sight. The wind was still wailing alongside, and it made the world seem so dark and lonely. He rolled back over, and he could faintly make out Bono in the other bed, tightly curled up under the covers to fight off the cold. Edge closed his eyes once more and willed himself to sleep. Later, he began to mentally beg himself.
The bed dipped, and Edge started slightly. His eyes felt heavy and murky and he wasn’t sure if he’d slept or not. He blinked and dimly could make out Bono looking down at him uncertainly. The wind had stopped and the rain was gentle. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m fucking freezing.” Bono laughed, awkward, and his body shook under the blanket wrapped around him.
“Oh. Do you want my blanket?”
Bono bit his lip and looked up and down Edge’s bed. “You’ll be cold then.”
Edge hadn’t thought of that. He considered the situation briefly as Bono looked on, now earnestly, and found he was too tired to bother. “Oh, climb in then.”
Bono was under the covers as quick as Edge had ever seen him move, his cold toes brushing against Edge’s foot and his hand seeking out and then squeezing Edge’s arm. The spare blanket went over Bono’s side, and he rolled in close and whispered, “Thank you.”
“Mmm,” was all Edge could muster. Bono’s breathing was quick against his neck and then softer till it evened out and his hand fell lax on Edge’s arm. Edge listened as the rain pattered softly and Bono’s breath flowed in and out and he thought of home.
***
He could make out muffled voices, then a slammed door. Footsteps, then more voices. Edge was used to waking up like this, during life on the road. The weight on his torso, that was new. He opened his eyes and found a dark mop of hair under his chin. There was an arm over his stomach and a foot between his own two. Edge blinked and dropped his own arm from Bono’s nape to the bed. It was uncomfortable though, so he brought it back up. Bono kept on lightly snoring and Edge figured they had a few hours still, so he closed his eyes once more and nestled back into the warmth.
His bladder was a distant thought that soon became a problem, and Edge put it off and put it off til he couldn’t anymore. Bono let out a sigh when Edge shook him gently and bleary blue eyes blinked up.
“Sorry. I’m about to piss myself.”
It took a moment to register, and then Bono smiled and nestled his face back into Edge’s neck. His lips moved against Edge’s skin as he hummed, “Hmm, really?” The hand on his stomach began to move, lower, and Edge’s mind started to race. But it settled just below his belly button, fingers splayed out and dancing. “Should I press down then?”
“Bono.”
“Edge?” Bono laughed softly, and then rolled over until Edge was free. “Hurry up then.”
Edge quickly shuffled to the bathroom, slightly bewildered, and when he came back out, he found Bono crouching by the heater. He walked closer and, yes, the room was already starting to feel warmer. “It’s broken,” he protested.
Bono grinned up at him. “It’s working fine for me,” he said. Edge watched as Bono wandered back over to Edge’s bed and climbed back in. His mind was buzzing, but Edge said nothing; he slowly followed. They had a few more hours, at least.