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The TV had been playing for hours already.
Not on any particular channel, just whatever old reruns played at night. The kind of noise that people leave on to trick themselves into feeling less alone.
Edd stepped inside quietly, keys still dangling from one hand, the other adjusting the strap of his sketchbook back, the corners dog-eared and crumpled from being bumped on the bus. He made sure to close the door as gently as possible. He knew how Tom would get.
The art show—gallery, whatever—had been fine. Not awful, not amazing. Just another night of people standing about. It was supposed to “get him out there” or something, but attention is hard to get in a crowd. He had left before the speeches started, anyway.
Still, when he entered the house, the TV was on.
No signs of life around, no snacks or abandoned mugs, no blankets, no pillow forts in the middle of collapsing—just the TV, flickering a dull yellow over the couches like a heartbeat.
He dropped his bag beside the couch and stood there for a second, listening.
And to the right, a faint noise.
“GAAAAHHHH!!! YOU FOOL!!! THAT TECHNIQUE IS FORBIDDEN!!!”
Edd blinked.
Anime.
Right.
Tord was awake.
The sound was coming from the far end of the hall. Tord’s room.
It wasn’t just that the idiot was up late watching anime—that was normal. Expected, even. It was that laugh. That over-the-top, melodramatic cackle the character made. Edd could hear it even through the walls. He sighed, half annoyed, half… fond? Maybe. He wouldn’t admit it out loud.
He grabbed a cola from the fridge and made his way down the hallway, his body weight shifted to the wall, mostly, to keep quiet. The hallway was dark, except for the faint strip of light under Tord’s door. It spilled out, blue and pale, like the glow of a vending machine yelling “HELLO” in an otherwise quiet office at 2 AM.
Edd meant to just walk to his bedroom; he was tired after all. But he paused in front of the door, instead. Just leaned there, listening.
The anime wasn’t that loud, he noticed. He just seemed to pick it up easily.
Inside, he thought, Tord was probably hunched over, eyes wide, though tired, and glowing at his screen, still wearing the same hoodie he never washed. He’d probably be halfway to falling off the bed, one leg dangling off, attention and gravity pulling him closer to the floor, too lazy to readjust himself.
Edd tilted his head to the right to get a view of Tord. Then, stepped closer, hand softly landing on the doorknob. He didn’t push it further.
“Don’t you ever sleep?” he said, just loud enough.
Inside, the show paused. Along with a small rustle. Bedsheets, maybe.
Tord didn’t look away from the screen, just waited, like he was waiting for Edd to come in.
Tord spoke, “…’Course not,” his voice low and rough like he hadn’t spoken aloud in a few hours.
Edd smiled, tired. He kept his hand on the doorknob, thumbing gently against the metal. Not forcing the door open, but putting enough weight on it for the light to grow.
“You’re frying your brain watching that all night,” he muttered. “You’re gonna start monologing at breakfast again.”
“Edd,” Tord scoffed. “It’s midnight—or, er. One—one AM. I’m not going to be awake for breakfast.”
The silence built again. The fridge buzzed from the left. He heard someone—Matt?—cough from the rooms to the right. The whole house was settling into sleep, or already asleep, except them.
“You just got back?” Tord asked, voice soft.
Edd nodded, then remembered he wasn’t quite so visible in the dark. “Yeah.” He shifted forward a little so the light could catch him. “What? You could tell?”
“You close the door very quietly,” Tord smiled, finger shaking in the air. “Like it has feelings.”
Edd laughed—under his breath. He didn’t want to wake Tom. “Yeah, it does, actually.” He scratched his eyebrow with his thumb. “We’ve had a thing going with it for—like—ever. You know how Tom gets.”
Tord smiled downward.
“…How was the… gallery?”
Edd blinked at him. That was new.
He hesitated. Thought about lying, then realized he didn’t have to. “Oh, it was fine. Okay. Okay-ish. Nothing. I mean, something, obviously, being an event. But, nothing.”
A muffled snort from the other side of the door. “Right. It was shit.”
Edd huffed out a laugh. “I didn’t want to say it but—” He made a face, grinning despite himself. Then he said, quieter, “Can I come in?”
A pause. A long pause. The kind that held breath and maybe a little tension at the edges. Not bad tension. Just… tension.
“…Yeah.”
Edd opened it slowly, letting the soft whine of the hinges announce him. The room… well, it had a scent. Instant noodles, metal, and some kind of woodsy body spray that screamed trying too hard. On the bed, Tord was half-sitting, half-folded over a pillow, hoodie pushed up at the sleeves. His eyes were red—not from crying, just from staying up too late and never blinking. The laptop balanced on his knees glowed with a frozen frame of some over-dramatic anime prince mid-shouting match. It was groaning with hot air. It was a shitty laptop.
Edd closed the door behind him without a word. He sat next to Tord on the bed, arm pressing arm, his back to the wall, legs outstretched. Tord stilled.
Edd motioned to the screen with one hand—the one that clawed around the coke. “Play it,” he said.
Tord glanced at him. “You’re don’t even like this one.”
“I’m not watching it,” Edd replied. He took a sip of his soda before leaning against the wall. “Just… listening.”
Tord looked at him a second longer than necessary. Then hit play.
The room was filled with shouting. Magic and lights. Dramatic battle cries. Some girl yelling “senpai!” in a position that did not seem safe for work.
Edd stayed where he was, back against the wall, but his body was beginning to ache. His shoulder twinged, and his legs had fallen asleep in some spot behind the knees. He didn’t want to move, not yet.
Tord shifted on the bed beside him, the matress creaking as he twisted. He said nothing for a long time. But Edd could notice the attention—though not too noticeable—shifted onto him like a glance being cast downward. He could feel it like warmth on his skin.
Tord sighed, suddenly. Not unkind. “You’re going to mess up your back and fall asleep there.”
“I’ll sue,” Edd muttered, eyes closed.
Something hit him.
Something soft.
A pillow.
Edd blinked open.
Tord was looking at him with a scowl; a little line was visible between his brows.
Edd looked back.
“Soo…”
“—What?” Tord faux-gasped. “I am offering a pillow. Obviously.”
Edd rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue.
He shifted closer on the bed—closer to Tord—before placing his soda down on the floor. He nudged the guy softly before lying down.
There was a slight pause, but eventually he felt the bed dip beside him as Tord reclined more fully, shifting to lie on his side. His head nearly touched Edd’s shoulder. But not quite.
“God, you smell like paint,” Tord murmured, closing the laptop. His voice had a drowsy edge to it.
Edd looked at him as Tord plugged it in beside the bed. “Do I now?”
“Yeah,” Tord said, turning back around to face Edd and lying down properly. “Like… acrylic. Expensive kind.”
“Huh,” Edd smiled. “That’s flattering, I suppose.”
Tord hummed, then yawned, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. His lashes were long in the low light, casting shadows on his cheeks. Edd felt the weight of looking at him. The sound of quiet breaths at night.
“Why are you up?” he asked gently.
Tord didn’t answer right away. Then, “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Bad dreams?”
“No,” Tord said. “Just…”
Edd looked at him.
“It’s nothing. I’m just bored.”
Edd nodded slowly, even though he didn’t entirely understand. Or maybe he did. Maybe he just wasn’t gonna get a proper answer this late.
Tord shifted again. His hand nudged lightly against Edd’s arm, barely there.
Edd didn’t pull away. He didn’t move at all. He just lay there, eyes flicking from the ceiling to the vague outline of Tord’s face—his nose, the curve of his mouth when he wasn’t being smug, the way his hair curled slightly at the ends he insisted he cut himself.
“You’re warm,” Tord said suddenly. Not teasing. Just stating a fact, like it surprised him.
“Well, human body temperature tends to hover around thirty-six degrees,” Edd replied softly.
Tord made a soft sound, not a laugh. Smaller. Sleepier.
“Don’t be a nerd,” he muttered.
“I am a nerd,” Edd said. “You invited me in any way.”
Tord didn’t respond to that, but his hand—the one that brushed against Edd’s arm—didn’t move away. It just stayed there. Close. Not quite touching, but not far either.
Edd turned his head slightly. Enough that their foreheads could meet if either of them shifted a little too far. Enough that he could see the way Tord was blinking slower now. He was wearing that look he always wore when he was right at the edge of sleep, but was fighting it anyway. Like he wanted to hold onto the moment. Stubborn. Always.
“I think…” Tord yawned. “I’ll be sleeping now.”
Edd chuckled, quietly, but didn’t say anything else. Just let the room go quiet, save for the sound of Tord’s breathing, slow and soft beside him. He wasn’t tired anymore.