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Robbie had somehow found himself without a hotel room for the night. He’d either forgotten to book one or his reservation hadn’t gone through or the hotel messed up.
But he couldn’t remember so it wasn’t worth getting mad at anyone for it. He was tidying up in the locker room as slowly as he could. Giving himself time to think. Fold his shirt carefully, make sure he had both boots and kick pads.
Phantasmo walked in sweaty and whiny as he often was.
“I wanted to be alone, man,” he tossed his damp towel at Robbie’s face in annoyance.
“That’s disgusting,” Robbie said even as he dodged.
“You’re disgusting,” Phantasmo muttered, throwing his wrist tape down in little balls onto the floor. “Why are you still here anyways?”
“Why’d you come in here?” Robbie asked instead, he knew for a fact that Bullet Club got their own locker room.
“Too many guys in mine, thought I’d get some quiet time.”
Robbie rolled his eyes, “as if you’ve ever wanted quiet time.”
“Hey!” Phantasmo protested, all offended, but then continued, “you didn’t answer though, your match was ages ago, what are you waiting around in an arena for?”
“Ah- well- I didn’t know what to do. I don’t seem to have accommodations for the night so I’m…stalling.”
Phantasmo burst out laughing, “that sucks man! Gonna have to find a Japanese hostel.”
“Yeah…” Robbie finally zipped up his backpack. His heart started racing as he realized this might be his one and only chance for the night. He stared intensely at said backpack when he spoke the next words.
“Would you happen to have another bed in your room, or, or couch maybe?”
The silence that followed was thick, solid.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Phantasmo said just as Robbie had started sweating.
Robbie still didn’t dare look at him, or say anything.
“I- I, I guess,” Phantasmo said quietly, finally, obviously flustered.
Robbie jerked his head up, to look at Phantasmo in shock, “serious?”
Phantasmo shrugged, “sure. Just. You can’t be seen with me,” he looked away seeming very uncomfortable. “Find your own ride there.”
Robbie agreed once Phantasmo told him the address and let Phantasmo leave before himself. It was all risky, Phantasmo could’ve been lying, could’ve been joking, Robbie knew he shouldn’t trust his enemy but it’s all he had at the moment.
***
He arrived at the hotel door, sure that Phantasmo had gotten there ahead of him. But Phantasmo absolutely would be the one to play a cruel joke on him.
It was worth a shot.
He knocked and the door was opened, Phantasmo staring at him with suspicion.
Robbie rolled his eyes, “why do you look like that, you were expecting me.”
“Could’ve been a plot,” Phantasmo offered, peeking out into the hallway to look both ways before shutting the door.
“You know I’m not one for that.” Robbie looked around awkwardly, unsure of where to place his bag and suitcase, or if he should sit down or not.
“Were you expecting to chill or something? ‘Cause I’m going to bed after I shower,” Robbie tried not to look as Phantasmo stripped his shirt off.
That settled it then.
“That sounds, fine. Yeah, can I-?” Robbie tipped his chin toward his suitcase.
Phantasmo shrugged, “put it wherever, don’t go through my stuff.” He shook his finger at Robbie then disappeared into the bathroom.
Robbie turned around to hide his smile, then, once he was alone, took the time to glance around the room.
He realized with a start that it was a small room, meaning only one bed. Phantasmo hadn’t- Robbie glanced to the closed bathroom door.
Phantasmo had let him come over. Despite the sleeping situation. What did that say about him?
***
When Phantasmo finally got out, looking like a drowned rat, Robbie was shaking. He’d worked himself up over it and now was all worried about it. He was sitting on the bed though, back against the headboard, twisting a bandana in his hands.
Phantasmo scowled at him but Robbie didn’t react, too caught off guard by the fact that El Phantasmo was shirtless.
“You’re in my spot,” he snapped, throwing a shirt onto the bed, then walking over and shoving Robbie hard onto his side.
“Oi! What was the purpose of that?” Robbie wiggled back into a sitting position.
“I told you, you were in my spot.”
“I hate you.”
“Feeling’s mutual sweetheart,” Phantasmo muttered.
Robbie groaned, and got up to get ready for bed. When he stepped back out of the bathroom, the adjoining room was completely dark, and Robbie stumbled trying to put his toiletries back in his suitcase before his eyes adjusted.
He could make out Phantasmo’s form on one half of the bed, so Robbie carefully crept in the other side. His mind hadn’t stopped racing. Somehow this still felt like a practical joke.
He rolled over a couple times, but nothing felt right.
“What are you doing?” Phantasmo’s voice was thick with drowsiness and Robbie felt a pang of guilt, hoping he hadn’t woken him up. Phantasmo was turned toward the centre of the bed so Robbie could see his face. The guy hadn’t even opened his eyes.
“Sorry I can’t sleep.”
“Sounds like a you problem,” Phantasmo grumbled, sitting up then turning over and shifting away from Robbie.
“It is,” Robbie muttered quietly, a moment’s hesitation,
“goodnight Phantasmo.” Robbie settled on his back, deciding to stare at the ceiling until sleep washed over him.
“‘Night.”
After a minute or so, Phantasmo also rolled onto his back, face still looking the other way.
Robbie felt the other man’s hand slipping in between them, landing on Robbie’s forearm then sliding down to squeeze his hand. And left it there. They were holding hands. Robbie had to suppress a shiver. He didn’t know what to do about Phantasmo being nice to him. But he could tell he was getting sleepier so something had worked. These thoughts can never see the light of day, Phantasmo can never find out about these feelings he swore to himself. He would never be able to admit the comfort.