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“TOPHER!!!”
topher jolted out of his bed and—
whump!
that was topher falling out of bed. he scrambled back up onto his sheets.
whump!
only to fall off them again.
“abe? jesus hell, what’re you doing here?” abe stared down at him from the bed; his big eyes looked like popped water balloons. “are you crying?”
abe sniffed loudly in response.
slowly—his butt really hurt after that—topher stretched to his feet. “abe,” he glanced at the phone he was just looking at, “it’s three in the morning; what do you want?”
abe was still crouched on the bed; he stared at topher with dewy doe eyes that could make the devil melt. now, there’s a thought.
“t-topher, i, um, i just—“
he swallowed loudly and stared back down at the floor like he was pondering something before mumbling lyrics only bats could hear.
“what’s that?”
abe glanced up again with cheeks pink in the starlight and topher tried not to dance into a bruised puddle of liquidy goo; now that’d be embarrassing.
“i had a nightmare.”
topher slapped an exasperated palm onto his face. seriously?
“you had a nightmare?” he asked, peeking between two fingers.
“uh-huh.” abe nodded pitifully. he settled back down on his haunches and as inconspicuously as he could, began to wiggle his feet beneath the covers.
topher glared at him. “what are you doing?”
abe bit his lip and stared longingly at the pillows at the head of the bed. “could i maybe sleep in here tonight? pretty please?”
oh no.
topher tried to fight the flush that ambushed the veins of his face, but alas, it was a losing battle.
“w-what? no! how old are you? you’re not a kid! absolutely not, no, get out—“
big eyes. suddenly far too close. gargantuan puddles of melting, fuzzy something pooled in topher’s stomach and for a nanosecond, he considered giving in.
yeah, right.
he hurriedly shoved abe away. “no way, get out. you bug me enough, so why don’t you—“
oh god. oh no. did abe just whimper?
big fat tears began to fade down abe’s cheeks in little baby torrents.
“no, dude, come on—it was just a dream, ok? it was just a— abe! seriously?”
abe’s whole body was quivering as mucus and salt water leaked out of what seemed to be every hole in his face. the guy choked back a loud sob and somehow managed, “i-i promise i won’t bother you. i-i-i just c-can’t sleep alone. please? p-pretty please?”
topher huffed out a long, loud sigh and blasted a quick hand through his hair. he couldn’t believe he was doing this. “fine,” he coughed out, “but you’re sleeping left.”
abe’s whole face lit up like a lightening bug’s butt.
topher fixed him with a patented warning glare before climbing under the sheets and snarling. “i swear to god if you try to cuddle with me . . .”
by 4AM, abe’s right leg hung heavily across topher’s hips and his arms looped around topher’s neck as he steadily drooled kitten-sized puddles onto topher’s shoulder.
ignoring the sloppy feeling in his stomach and the heat in his cheeks, topher draped an arm across those skinny shoulders and pretended his fingers weren’t gliding through that brown hair.
when abe awoke, he was confused. his whole body felt like it was curled around a heater.
where the heck was he?
“mmngh-“
suddenly, the heater moved, twisted a little and in a flash, last night zipped through his brain in a neatly edited power point. he could recall everything from his terrible nightmare to topher’s room, which must mean that- oh my.
he was in topher’s bed. with topher. the two of them had somehow managed to become the world’s first abraham lincoln and christopher columbus knot. their legs twisted in and around each other and arms jutted this way and that until abe couldn’t even tell what his hands were holding. abe, however, could feel the single arm forming about him, yanking him close into a cuddly ribcage and squishing his ear next to a cynical heart, which was beating in a soft lullaby.
abe lifted himself up ever so slightly (not entirely sure how to break out of the mess—or necessarily wanting to in the first place) and peered at topher’s sleeping face; he couldn’t help but smile. topher looked absolutely . . . there was no other way to put it, he looked adorable. way cuter than when he was awake. he was always scowling when he was conscious—or semi conscious, for that matter—but now, he looked sweeter. with his mouth half-open and his face lax as loose silk and his breath soft as butter. his hair fanned out across his pillow in a tangled mess, sticking up every which way. it really made him look ridiculous, but even so, abe had to resist the urge to touch it, plunge his fingers through that mass of milky brown.
he checked the time on topher’s abandoned phone. it was about an hour before they had to wake up for school. good.
he nestled snugly back into topher’s arms, absorbing as much warmth as he possibly could through his own frigid flesh. he pretended his face wasn’t plunged into the boy’s chest. he pretended he wasn’t beaming like a loon. but he was cuddling with topher! abe swigged a big inhale and his cheeks started to hurt from his giddiness. everything was just so . . . topher. so utterly and completely topher. abe tried to ignore the weird spasm of his chest and the sloppy goo pooling in his tummy. he sort of really wanted to stay like this forever.
the next night, after teeth brushing and many online debates, topher finally peeled himself out of his chair to head to bed. he could feel abe’s eyes on him as he walked to the bed to join him. he sort of dared abe to ask to sleep with him again. abe didn’t. guess he figured he’d bugged the crap out of topher enough for one day.
but abe didn’t get off his bed and climb into the mattress prepared in the middle of the room by topher’s foster mother, and topher could only assume abe’s intentions.
topher sighed, “what do you want?”
when he looked at abe, it wasn’t the usual beaming face abe normally wore. in fact, he looked rather timid, like he was afraid that at any moment, topher might pounce.
“um,” abe licked his lips nervously, an action that topher most definitely did not pay an obsessed amount of attention to.
“could i- could i, um . . .” he faltered again. topher sighed, louder this time, wiping a palm across the bridge of his face; abruptly, he whirled around and leapt onto his bed with a loud thwump! when he’s settled, he shot abe an exasperated glare and patted the space beside him.
“fine.”
abe’s whole face lit up like an exploding gas station and despite all his efforts, topher huffed out a smile.
“but, last time.”
abe woke up, bleary at first, but let the crooked corners of his mouth turn up softly as he felt the drum beats of the heart beneath him. there was no confusion as to where he was. it had been two weeks since topher had started letting abe sleep with him whenever he slept over—which had become nearly every night—and despite starting out at opposite sides of the bed each night, abe was currently flung haphazardly across topher’s middle, arms wrapped around him like a hippie hugs a tree, legs woven thickly together in a quilt of limbs. then there was topher who, in his sleep had somehow cocooned his arms around abe.
abe often contemplated on whether or not topher knew they always woke up cuddling. he assumed not, since he was pretty certain both of them were sound asleep when their bodies miraculously formed magnets and snapped to each other; plus if topher did know, he would’ve punched abe out his bedroom door ages ago. it was for that reason abe always thanked hell that he was an early riser. just to have a few moments, a few soft moments in topher’s arms, where he could imagine that topher didn’t hate him, where he and topher were best friends or maybe something . . . else.
topher rubbed a bleary hand across his blearier eyes, trying desperately to eradicate the eye gunk that had decided to pitch their tents with him sometime last night.
he knew he ought to ban abe from his room forever; the idiot would listen to him, and yet . . . his mind flashed back to last night, when a still snoring abe had drooled his way onto topher’s chest, wrapping a skinny, chilly arm around him tight, like topher was the only thing he ever loved in the world. it was stupid, he knew, but just watching abe sleep, when his hair was free for topher to curl between his fingers, when his back was stretched out for topher to rub gentle, soothing circles into. well, somehow all that was worth waking up to madness.
he wondered momentarily what abe must think every time he woke up and was snuggled into topher’s chest or drooling on his shoulder. he knew abe was sound asleep when he rolled onto topher, but since they always fell asleep that way, surely they woke up that way? perhaps they rolled apart during the night.
the next night was the same as always and even the one the day after that. after an online argument, topher would hop on his bed and abe would plop under the covers and fall promptly to sleep. topher would try, but he always found it hard to go to sleep right away; first he had to think about life and the world and sometimes he’d just sit and scroll on his phone until he drifted away. but lately, he’d taken to waiting for abe to roll over, cling to him like a life raft and then he’d run his fingers through abe’s hair until the word was blank.