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He hadn't even thought it through, really. Not that he thought it was a bad idea, only that he had suggested it before he'd asked or even really thought about his parents.
Roger had just been sitting in Gordy's desk chair when they were talking about the upcoming holiday break, and Gordy had asked, simply, "Why don't you come up north with me?"
Roger had looked at him, head tilted just slightly, taking a moment to decide if Gordy really meant it, but of course he did, and Roger was seeming to learn as well that Gordy didn't say things he didn't mean. He believed in being honest.
Roger didn't really say things he didn't mean either, but it was because he didn't believe in lying, which was almost the same thing, but then not quite.
And now they were on the train north, both relieved that the semester was over and exhausted from what it had brought, and when the porter had come by to pull down the beds in their tiny compartment, Roger had pulled off everything except his undershirt and shorts and slipped immediately into the lower bunk, letting his eyes fall closed as he nestled into the pillow, clearly awake but tired enough that he didn't seem to want to keep them open any longer.
Gordy watched him from where he was kneeling on the floor, his suitcase open as he put away his toothbrush and pulled out a fresh pair of socks.
Roger thought it strange that he wore socks to bed. He told him it was charming in more or less words. Gordy thought it was strange that he didn't. Roger didn't seem to have any more on his body than a coxswain to keep him warm, the only difference being that he was tall, but as far as Gordy figured, that was just more that needed to be heated up.
"Can I climb in with you?" he asked, sitting back as he slipped on the socks, looking at the curl of dark hair on the pillow, almost unable to see Roger's face from where he'd pulled the blanket up over his nose.
"As if I'd come this far to tell you no," Roger mumbled beneath the fabric, but he opened his eyes then, and Gordy could see the warm, clever spark in them.
"I just figure it won't be so comfortable with both of us, is all."
"I'm never comfortable," Roger replied bluntly.
"Oh," Gordy said, still on the floor, his mind flashing through all the times they'd shared a bed together before and wondering if that was true, but it had to be if he'd said it.
Seeing that he'd knocked him off balance, Roger rolled his eyes. "I'm never comfortable, but it's better with you."
"Oh. Right," Gordy said, still unmoving.
"I'm just knobby. That's all."
Gordy breathed a laugh then, "Yeah."
"Get in here, then. I don't want to spend all night arguing over whether you should or not."
Gordy smiled, shutting his suitcase and getting up from the floor, and when he pulled down the blanket, he saw that Roger was smiling as well.
He laid himself down next to him, and Roger wrapped his limbs around him, indeed all knobby knees and knobby elbows, but Gordy didn't mind. Quite the opposite. He hadn't had a clue before Roger just how much he might like sleeping with someone else because he'd never once done it, but now that he had he hated any night where he couldn't, especially when it was cold.
Roger leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips and then pulled the blanket back up over the lower half of his face, but he kept his eyes open.
"Tell me what we'll do again?" he asked, his voice muffled.
Gordy kicked his shin lightly and playfully under the covers. "Nothing much, I've told you. I still can't believe you even agreed to come. I'm surprised your parents let you get away."
"I'll be back with them for New Year's. It's fine. You could come back with me."
Gordy grinned and then bit it back, hooking his ankle around that same shin. "Okay. Maybe I will."
"So will I milk a cow, or...?"
Gordy laughed, "If you want. Sure. I imagine my dad would appreciate the help. But really I figure we'll see the mountains and on Christmas we'll drive out to the church and my mother will cook a nice meal. That's all. "
And that was all, really, but it didn't mean he wasn't excited about it. Already he could feel himself growing almost giddy in a completely unfamiliar way at the idea of pointing out the mountains and streams and pastures to Roger, telling him this is where I grew up and here and here and here.
Sometime in the night he awoke cold and alone and uncomfortable, a moment passing before he felt the movement of the train underneath him and realized where he was and then another before he realized that he must have rolled off the tiny bed. He'd been right that they wouldn't fit. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, however, he saw Roger's scrunched face and curled body and found that he did look awfully uncomfortable, so he climbed back into the bunk anyways.
He couldn't manage it without waking him up, but after a confused noise, Gordy maneuvered them both until Roger's head was on his chest, his hair tickling his neck and breath his heart.
Roger mumbled something and Gordy hummed in question.
"Said thanks," Roger repeated, his voice scratched and sleepy and low.
"Oh," Gordy said, kissing the top of his head and squeezing his arms around him and closing his eyes to go back to sleep.