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Komander was just exhausted, his head was foggy and there was no place that wasn't aching.
Alex had already waved him bye, Hologram disappeared whenever the three of them were leaving – he wasn't.. angry at him was he? – Alex had told him he wasn't but he wasn't sure, maybe he isn't - hopes he isn't.
He just clicks open the door to the room he's supposed to be staying at and stills.
Well, there's Hologram - how did he…?
“Hey man.”
Meek wave, way to go -
Hologram jumps, but glances over to him, head tilts - but he's sat on the edge of the bed - Komander’s bed. They don't share a room. He doesn't wave back.
“Look, I’m –” Komander shuffles, shuts the door behind him, closer and closer to where his friend is sitting, the edges are blurred - he can faintly see the nightstand and the lamp casting light into this hotel room - it feels odd, maybe it's the tired eyes playing tricks on him.
The bed dips, Hologram doesn't move & only stares, Komander really… “I’m sorry.” He can see the seams of the mask, yet can't seem to follow any details.
“I just couldn't..” He lets his head fall into his hands, it's crushing to even go over again - how is he supposed to make this up to Hologram? Can he? Has he really –
– There's the lightest touch on his spine, enough to pull him free, not drowning in guilt. Circular motions right between his shoulder blades, ebbing away tension and the freakish ache.
Komander just lets himself breathe, shaky - but just a moment - find his footing and regather his thoughts.
“We gave it our best.. so don't text me at those odd hours you do -” He could've sworn he heard Hologram chuckle, it makes his chest feel tight for just the passing beat that it lasts, “- but we got this far, that must mean something. .”
Hologram doesn't move much, he's still - Komander can't hear him breathe, holding his breath? What's he waiting on?
He wants to apologize again - but no, he's pulled into an embrace and his hands only fumble for a second, maybe half.
Komander clings, finds where his hands should be and tries to not rake his nails on Hologram's spine in a frantic frenzy to hold him, to keep him so close it's making his mind come to a halt.
He's too tired to be worried about nothing, not now.
It's a trembled sigh that leaves his lungs, his head nestling in the crook of Hologram's neck, letting his eyes fall shut to just listen , to the silence - barely broken by the soft bustle outside.
There are times between them that go on with these incredibly long silences, sometimes they're too heavy, awkward - but that's long passed, the silence is natural now, it's just what becomes of them.
He likes to think he’s a romantic, really, or at least somewhat - because with how Hologram just knows him and each part so well, its almost innate. Things Komander knows he shouldn't - all the things far too particular that make him red in the face, and every time Hologram tilts his head and acts innocent.
The touch is still incredibly light, trying to make the ache in his shoulders tolerable, the arm Mistico had is still so incredibly sore, it hurts to raise it - stabbing throbs when he wants to move it.
But the comfort itself is undeniable, the effect it has on him is almost bizarre - surreal. Everything feels so real, but it’s a thing in his stomach that makes him feel wrong about the level of closeness - the closer he is to Hologram the more a warning bell is rang in Komander’s skull.
Regardless to the abstract sense of horror he feels - It’s lulling, and maybe he is asleep, because far too close to his ear he hears the softest – “Komander?”
He feels like his heart stops, all the breath catches in his throat, that's.. maybe? “I’ve been up too long, you're talking .” Komander laughs dryly, “That’s.. uh.” Words fall flat in his brain, he didn't sleep on the way to Arena Mexico.
Defeat, he needs rest - he's sore and he might be hallucinating now, “That’s not very good.” The joke, despite his exhausted chuckling, does not land with Hologram – “I thought I heard Aramis..” – he goes tense, no not tense.. Rigid.
He’s not here though , is a rather haunting thought that still somehow bothers him - he came back out of nowhere and was gone again before Komander had the chance to catch him long enough - nothing but a guilt riddled missed call that gave him nothing, excep t that it was now out of service, when he tried to call Aramis back.
“I’m going to bed.” Komander bites his tongue, a question crosses his mind and in some faint stupor - “Are you staying?”
It lands, Hologram nods and pats his shoulder. Maybe they're both too tired to properly care now.
“Okay.” Komander’s skin feels fuzzy, hard to ignore the flush in his face and shoulders as he tries to fixate on removing his books, trying to look the other way from Hologram copying him - a mirror.
He tries to reach up and tug at his mask as soon as he's freed from his boots - a second pair of hands lay gently on top of his own.
And Komander nods, shutting his eyes and letting his arms fall as Hologram gently unlaces his mask, careful to not pull at his hair on accident and with steady hands.
Komander just shakes his head, enough for his mask to fall in his lap - delighted hum as his friend helps shake his curls free. Shuffling to sit next to him. Giggling as he glanced back to see Hologram adamantly looking away from him.
Suppose that makes sense, but he'd prefer – “You can look.” It's light, hush and whispered, the agonizing seconds it takes before Hologram looks back at him.
Hologram’s hands cradle his face, thumbs grazing his cheekbones - he’s relaxed, now - it's so soft like this, with hands cradling and gently holding him.
His breath hitches in his throat, when Holograms hands linger at his mouth - please , let it be real, let him not be tired and dreaming.
Komander just waits, he's still - watching Hologram carefully, maybe thinking something over - and Komander can't help the way his eyes shut when Holograms hands leave, cursing himself for some sense of foolishness. Till they return, drifting down his throat - lingering for a beat too long in the middle of his chest before it vanishes.
Disappointment, is an understatement.
Komander watches for a moment for telling himself it's for the best, and finding way beneath the covers - soon pursued. He clicks the light off.
Shuffling , he feels enclosed - a hand carding his curls, nails gentle on his scalp, the slightest tug - and Komander bites the pillow beneath him to muffle whatever rippled from his throat - he sounded debauched - something hot pools and stirs in his gut.
The man above him only giggles, more shuffling noises - fabric? Komander thinks that what that noise was or —
Hologram presses a kiss to the crown of his head and Komander thinks - legitimately - his heart is going to stop.
His shoulder gets pat and then Hologram is on the other end, and really? Komander needs to be thinking more when after a moment he shuffles closer, he needs it - it's his lifeline. Please.
Hologram lifts his arm, allowing him the rest his head on his chest, and Komander feels like a lover, ultimately beloved.
Held and cradled in the arms of another. The warmth is intoxicating, it's making him feel sick.
“Goodnight, Hologram.”
He slurs, enveloped in night and caught like a snake in an embrace. Holograms arm is resting on Komander’s hip, and he's red in the face at every electrifying touch and drift of his hand.
And he's sure, this time, he's dreaming when he hears —
“Goodnight, carazón.”