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Since he stopped being an alcoholic, Leonard had become a serious coffee addict.
There wasn’t much he could do about it now. He just hoped he didn’t develop a tolerance. Finals week was coming up soon, and he needed a hit of caffeine or else he’d pass out.
He stumbled into his dorm room with two cups in his hands—one extra large coffee with three creams and two sugars in one, and a small sugary, fruity, hardly coffee monstrosity in the other.
He handed the sugary one to his roommate, who was sitting relaxedly in his creaky chair at his desk with his legs up. “Thanks Bones,” Jim said. He frowned. “Why do you always get me a small when you get an extra extra super mega uber large?”
Leonard sipped absently at his coffee. “Because I don’t want you to have a heart attack at the age of sixteen.”
“I’m not sixteen, asshole,” Jim scowled. “I’m twenty-two. Almost twenty-three. And what, you can have a heart attack but not me?”
“Yup,” he said, and turned his back to Jim and sat down at his desk to study, effectively ending the conversation. He heard a sigh and the creaking of Jim’s ancient spinny chair creaking as he turned back to his own desk. Jim may be a mad lad, but he still had to study for finals. He didn’t seem stressed at all, honestly, and Leonard was kind of jealous of his nonchalant-ness. He himself was on the edge of a breakdown about finals. And it’s not like he didn’t know the material, because he did! He supposed it was just in his nature to worry about such things, and in Jim’s nature to be chill about it. Didn’t make his lack of nerves any less annoying, though.
One coffee later—Leonard measured time in coffee now—he got up to stretch. He yawned loudly. Jim yawned too, and then giggled.
“Dude, you made me yawn!” he laughed.
Leonard scowled. “Shut the fuck up you carefree little elf.”
“Jeez,” said Jim.
Leonard sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Good lord, I need more coffee.”
“Uh, no you don’t. You just had an insanely huge bucket. That thing is comically large. It’s the size of your head. When you hold it you look like a cartoon drawn by a child with no sense of proportion. You do not need more coffee.”
He crossed his arms. “Who’s the doctor here, again?”
“Still you, but didn’t you just say like an hour ago that you didn’t want me to get a heart attack from drinking so much coffee?”
“I also once said you’re my friend, so maybe don’t take what I say seriously,” said Leonard.
Jim paused. “You never said you were my friend.”
“Pshh, yes I did.”
“Fucking, when?”
“Um.” He stopped, searching his brain. “I don’t remember! But it’s happened. I swear.”
“It has not!” Jim said, jumping up and pointing at Leonard. “So you just admitted we’re friends!”
“What?! Where the Sam Hill did you get that notion?”
“You said, just now, that you consider us friends.”
“I said I no longer did.”
“So you have, at one point, considered us friends. And I don’t believe that’s changed.”
“You’re making shit up.” But it was too late to do anything about it, and Jim tackled Leonard onto his bed behind him and wrapped his arms around him.
“C’mere, bestie,” he said into Leonard’s chest.
“You’re like. Spooning me, Jim.”
“No I’m not. You’re facing the wrong way,” said Jim, not moving. And Leonard would never, ever, ever admit it, but Jim was a pretty good hugger. Even horizontally. Maybe even especially horizontally.
They stayed like that for a while. Leonard’s rationale was that he was too tired to fight his way out of Jim’s arms. So he didn’t move. Jim was warm and comfy. And Leonard was exhausted.
“Really?” he said after a while, eyes closed. “I’ve never, ever, in the almost a full year that I’ve known you, said that you’re my friend?”
“Nope. Not even once.”
“Oh.”
They were silent once more. Leonard was half asleep by the time he said, “Well, you should know that you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
“Love you too, Bones,” said Jim, and Leonard smiled.