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For the first time in the history of Parrot and Spoke having sleepovers, Parrot was the one who couldn't sleep. The teen tossed and turned in his bed, his mind seemingly unable to stop racing. He was too hot, so he flung the blanket off of himself, but then he was too cold, so he crawled to retrieve it, entangling his limbs in the cloth once more.
Spoke's snoring wasn't helping. For once, he was the one fast asleep, seemingly more comfortable on his air mattress on Parrot’s bedroom floor than Parrot was on his own goddamn bed.
To be fair, though, Spoke really could sleep anywhere, contrary to popular belief. He just needed to be tired enough, which, granted, didn't happen often, but when it did Parrot was pretty sure his friend could feasibly pass out anywhere. It was admirable, if Parrot was being honest. When they were seven, at another one of these sleepovers, Him and Spoke had both fallen asleep in Spoke's bathtub together. Parrot reminisced on the night fondly, remembering how, before they'd fallen asleep, they'd been trying to build a fort in the shower.
Parrot flipped over and groaned into his pillow. He needed to stop reminiscing and go to sleep . For God's sake, it was nearing three in the morning and he and Spoke had a track meet tomorrow. Parrot wasn't built to stay up late.
As the minutes ticked by and Parrot was just getting more restless, he decided maybe it'd do him good to go get a glass of milk or something. So, slowly, he slipped out of bed and tiptoed to his door, hoping it didn't creak too much as he pulled it open slowly. Parrot watched Spoke's sleeping figure carefully as he left the room, praying his movement wouldn't wake him up.
Once parrot had returned to his room, the hardwood floors creaking under his feet as he snuck back to his bed was the only sound filling the quiet night. He didn't think much of it at first, but soon realised that it was wrong. Spoke's snoring had stopped.
Shit.
Carefully, instead of returning to his bed, Parrot tiptoed around to slowly lower himself to the floor next to Spoke's mattress. Cupping his glass of milk in his hands, he gently leaned against his bedroom wall and examined Spoke's features. The ravenette was laid facing away from Parrot, but Parrot could still watch the rise and fall of Spoke's chest, and the way he'd fidget ever so slightly every few moments.
His breathing was erratic. Spoke wasn't asleep.
“Spoke.” Parrot whispered, noticing Spoke's shoulders twitch slightly. “Are you awake?”
The silence that followed Parrot’s rhetorical question was playful almost, a grin tugging at the corners of Parrot’s mouth. Spoke shifted in the little nest of blankets he'd constructed, before lazily flipping over to face Parrot, eyes barely staying open.
“No.” Spoke mumbled in response, his gaze trailing slowly across Parrot’s features. It was strange, almost. Parrot felt assessed, in a way. It was definitely strange. Spoke didn't assess things. “Why are you up?”
As quickly as the strange thoughts came to him, Parrot discarded them. “I can't sleep.”
“Obviously.” Spoke shot back, as quickly as he would've if he was more awake, which Parrot idly noted was pretty impressive. There was no bite behind his tone, though. “Too hot, or?”
Parrot shrugged, “Just can't stop, you know, thinking.”
“About?”
“Go to sleep, Spoke.”
“ You woke me up, don't tell me to go back to sleep.” Spoke coundered, cranking his neck suddenly. Parrot almost jumped as he heard a distasteful series of cracks. He hated when Spoke did that. “What were you thinking about?”
Parrot shrugged, reluctant to admit that a lot of it was about Spoke. He lied, and mumbled something about being nervous for their track meet tomorrow as Spoke grabbed his hand to fidget with.
“Bro if I spill this milk because of you I swear-” Parrot threatened, mostly to change the subject.
Spoke giggled, “Shut up, I know you don't mind.”
Parrot was thankful for how dim it was in his room, for how the darkness at least made his shocked expression less obvious. Spoke didn't… giggle . Spoke didn't act like this. It was too late at night for Parrot to be dealing with this.
“Um.” Parrot replied eloquently. “Uh.”
As Parrot struggled to find something coherent to say, Spoke quietly kept himself amused with Parrot’s hand, tracing circles into his palm and counting his knuckles. A silence settled over the two, and Parrot opted to finish his drink instead of trying to say something.
The sound of Parrot placing the empty glass onto the hardwood floor seemed to echo through the silence they had built. The two kept quiet. Quiet was normal, for this time of night. If either of them said anything about it, it wouldn't be normal anymore.
Parrot coughed, maybe subconsciously signalling that he wanted to get up to go back to bed. It cut the silence like a knife.
Spoke dropped Parrot’s hand, (which at that point he'd just been holding it) like it burned to touch. He mumbled an apology and a goodnight, and Parrot noted that, once again, this was strange behaviour for his best friend.
Parrot didn't move from his spot against the wall immediately, watching Spoke carefully. He wasn't sure what made him so blunt, but he supposed everyone seemed to be acting a little strange that night. Maybe it was the lack of sleep.
“Why are you being so weird?” Parrot asked, gentle and firm at the same time. When Spoke didn't react immediately to the question, Parrot realised he was almost asleep again.
Parrot sighed. It was nothing.
He rose slowly, stepping over Spoke carefully to get back to his bed. If the floorboards had creaked at a different time, he might've almost missed Spoke's response;
“I'm sleep deprived and I have a crush on you.” Spoke barely whispered, a tinge of bite to his voice for the first time that night. “So I don't know how to act normal right now.”
“No you don't.” Parrot said back immediately, his voice low. “Spoke. What.”
Spoke only hummed lazily in response, and after a couple minutes of Parrot standing next his bed, mouth hung agape, Spoke's snoring started up again, jarringly filling the silence.
What the fuck was Parrot going to do about that .