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Arthur had invited Bach over again after a long day of recording, having suggested they have another movie night together. “You can sleepover,” he’d entice, knowing well Bach would much rather stay at his apartment than brave the long trek home. It didn’t take much convincing and soon they found themselves weaving through the aisles of a supermarket, trying to find something they could throw together for dinner.
“We’ll make something easy,” Bach said, smiling gently at Arthur, making his pulse quicken more than he’d like to admit to. When they’d arrived at Arthur’s apartment, bags of groceries in hand, they immediately got to work in the kitchen - side by side, chopping vegetables and tossing pasta in a boiling vat. Their conversations flowed as always - the usual jokes, niche references, and banter that came so naturally to them.
Every now and again, Bach’s arm would brush against Arthur’s as he manoeuvred around the kitchen. Each time Arthur’s eyes would glance up, meeting those of Bach’s for a second, before darting away. It was nothing really - more so just proximity. But the heat of Bach’s body so near to his was hard to ignore for a reason Arthur could not begin to place.
“Look’s good,” Bach murmured, leaning over Arthur to peer at the pan on the stove, his chin pressing lightly against Arthur’s shoulder as he did. His breath was warm on Arthur’s neck, making Arthur feel all kinds of ways at once. He tried his best to focus on the sauce bubbling in front of him, but his mind wandered elsewhere - too fixated on Bach.
Swallowing hard, Arthur managed to speak. “Yeah, let's hope it tastes as good as it looks,” his voice slightly softer than usual.
Dinner passed without any major incidents, unless you counted the way Bach’s knee brushes against Arthur’s beneath the table, or the looks they exchanged. When they finally moved to the living room, the atmosphere had completely changed. They’d changed into pyjamas - both in loose sweatpants and hoodies that looked a little too good on them. Arthur couldn’t help but stare at Bach as he scrolled through the movies, his brows furrowed in concentration.
With a movie picked they’d settled in on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn between them - that didn’t last long though. As the movie progressed, the pair edged closer and closer, until the bowl was nestled in Bach’s lap, their shoulder’s touching. It was subtle at first, but soon Bach was slumped against Arthur’s side, his dark hair brushing Arthur’s cheek. Neither of them said a word, the room completely silent, save for the movie playing in the background (that was far less interesting than what was happening off screen).
Arthur could feel the movement of Bach’s breaths against him, his own breathing quickening. He let his gaze drift down to Bach, who was staring at the screen but clearly not focusing either. The light from the television illuminating his face, casting shadows that made his features even more defined. Arthur’s gaze lingered on his jaw, and the way his lips parted softly, clearly lost in thought.
However he was quick to realise he was the one lost in thought, pulled back to the present as a light hand nudged his cheek. It was barely a touch, but it was enough to bring his attention fully to Bach, their eyes instantly meeting. Bach’s lips were parted slightly, as if he was about to speak, but the words never came. Instead, he leaned in, just close enough so that Arthur could feel the heat of his breath against his skin. Arthur swore he could feel his heart in his throat, but he didn’t pull away. His eyes flicked down to Bach’s lips then back to his eyes.
Bach’s hand was now on his thigh, resting there, pulling Arthur closer. As Arthur leaned in, his lips parted-
And then it happened. A wet trickle down his upper lip. At first he thought he was imagining it, but then the coppery taste hit him, his stomach churning instantly as his hands rushed to cup his face.
“Shit,” he mumbled, pulling back abruptly as the blood trickled through the gaps in his cupped hands.
Bach took a moment to register what had happened. “Are you okay?”
“It’s just a nosebleed,” Arthur tried to laugh, his cheeks flushing for an entirely different reason now. “Great timing.”
Bach stared at him for a second before bursting out laughing. “You just look like the type of person to get nosebleeds. How did I not notice that before?”
Arthur groaned, as he tipped his head back, still managing a “Shut up.” Holding one hand to his face he used the other to grab a tissue pressing it to his nose. Bach was still watching him with an easy grin as he edged closer.“Alright, alright, let me help,” he said, reaching out to gently push Arthur’s shoulder, guiding him to sit up straighter. “You’re gonna drown yourself if you keep tilting your head back like that.”
“I think I’ve got it under control,” Arthur muttered, trying to sound casual, despite how he felt. Bach raised an eyebrow, his mouth twitching into a smirk. Racing out he cupped Arthur’s chin, carefully turning his face towards him. The touch was gentle and sent a shiver down Arthur’s spine. Swallowing hard, Arthur tried to object but the words failed to pass his lips.
Bach took the tissue from Arthur’s hand, inspecting the steady stream of blood still trickling from Arthur’s nose. “Okay, breathe through your mouth and lean forward, Bach instructed. Arthur could feel his heart pounding as he followed Bach’s instructions, breathing shallowly through his mouth as Bach pressed a fresh tissue against his nose.
“You know,” Arthur started, “this is not how I imagined tonight going.”
“Bach laughed lightly, his fingers brushing Arthur’s jaw as he adjusted the tissue. “Me neither.”
They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment; Arthur could feel the press of Bach’s touch. He wasn’t sure what was making him more dizzy - the blood loss, or the way Bach was treating him.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Bach leaned back slightly, tilting his head as he studied Arthur’s face. “Are you feeling okay now? Looks like the bleeding’s stopping.”
Arthur nodded, trying to ignore the heat still pooling in his chest from the way Bach was holding him. “Yeah. I think I’m good.”
But Bach didn’t move away. His hand was still on Arthur’s cheek, his fingers tracing light patterns along the side of his jaw.
Arthur swallowed again, his throat suddenly dry. His voice came out softer than he intended. “Thanks for, uh… helping.”
Bach’s gaze softened as he leaned in just a fraction, closing the already small gap between them. “I don’t mind taking care of you, Arthur,” his lips just inches away.