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Warren hesitated with his hand hovering over the door of Gordon’s bedroom.
It wasn’t too late to turn around, crawl back into his own bed, and pretend this moment of weakness never happened.
The hallway was dim, and he didn’t see any light emanating from the cracks of Gordon’s door. That didn’t mean he was asleep, though. Gordon often stayed up late, even before Red Valley, he was a chronic night owl.
Warren considered the embarrassment he would feel if Gordon said no. He then considered the cold emptiness that was awaiting him back in his own room.
The choice was easy.
He pushed the door open, and before his eyes could fully adjust, he heard Gordon’s voice mumble, “Hello?”
Too far in to turn back now. “Hey. You awake?”
“Yeah.” His voice was slightly hoarse from disuse, but it soothed Warren nonetheless.
He shuffled in place. “I, uh. I can’t sleep.”
Gordon blinked slowly at him. “Alright.”
“Could I… take the floor in here?”
He shook his head. “Don’t be daft, this bed is huge.”
He wasn’t expecting that.
He just wanted Gordon’s presence, to remind him that he wasn’t alone.
“Are- are you sure?”
Gordon shifted to the right side of the bed and gestured for Warren to come.
Warren paused, as if Gordon might suddenly change his mind, before he carefully laid down, feeling the bed shift under his weight.
His muscles were tense at first, but after a few moments, he started to feel silly for being so anxious. This was Gordon. His best friend. His only friend. They’d been through so much together- would sleeping in the same bed as him really be the thing that pushes him away? If stabbing himself in the hand didn’t do it, this probably won’t.
He let out a long sigh and let himself relax into the old mattress.
He thought back to their last conversation, earlier that day. Even after he berated him in the tunnel, Gordon still welcomed him in.
The guilt bubbled up in his throat and soon, Warren was apologizing for everything. For their stupid fight and yelling at him and Gordon, as always, accepted it all with a grace and kindness that Warren wasn’t sure he deserved.
Sometimes, he could hardly believe that Gordon was real. What were the chances that he’d get trapped here with the one person he thought really understood him?
“I’m glad you’re here. Uh- I’m not glad you’re stuck here, but I am happy, I mean, that we’re together. I… I don’t know how I would have dealt with this on my own.”
“Oh. Thanks. And um, s’alright, by the way. It’s not really your fault that I’m too damn stubborn to leave well enough alone.”
Without anything to distract him, Warren contemplated how their time together would soon be cut short, again, by his next round of cryosleep.
A thought was brewing in the back of his head.
“Do you ever wonder…” He trailed off.
“Hm?”
Warren flushed, suddenly embarrassed. “Nothing. It’s stupid.”
“Oh come on.” Gordon’s voice got higher, like it always did when he was upset. “You can’t not tell me now. I’m not gonna be able to sleep until my curiosity is satisfied.”
“Just. Do you ever wonder how things would have gone if we had met under normal circumstances? Like, what if instead of that day in the archives where I asked you about Red Valley-” Warren stumbled over his words. “What if, you know, we talked without the conspiracies and unethical experiments and shady late night meetups in your car- what if we just. I dunno. Met at like, a bar or something.”
Gordon chuckled self-consciously. “If it wasn’t for Red Valley I doubt you’d have ever talked to me.”
“Seriously?”
“Come on, man. If you saw me sitting in a bar you would not walk up to me.” He was technically right, if only because Warren wasn’t the type of person to make friends with complete strangers, unprompted. But, Gordon’s tone suggested that the issue wasn’t Warren’s social aptitude, but rather that Gordon wasn’t worth talking to.
An insane notion, really.
“Don’t tell me what I would and would not do, alright?”
He could hear Gordon’s smile. “Okay so, in this alternate universe, I’m sitting, by myself, and you walk up to me and you say- what, exactly?”
“‘You come here often?’”
Gordon snickered and smacked his arm. He didn’t have to see his face to know how his lips would quirk up and his eyes would glitter with amusement. He wished he could bottle up Gordon’s laugh and keep it stored for a rainy day. His smiles weren’t big, but their scarcity made them all the more valuable. Like seeing the first rays of sunshine after weeks of being stuck in an underground bunker.
Warren knew that if he looked to his right, his eyes would land on Gordon. Which was precisely why he kept his eyes locked to the ceiling above them, even as he rubbed the side of his arm.
“Okay, okay. I’d walk up and tell the bartender that your next beer is on me.”
“Oh what a gentleman. Unfortunately, I think that beer tastes like piss. I would probably be drinking a uh... cider or something.”
“Ciders and beers are like basically the same thing.”
“What? That’s not even remotely true.”
Warren liked getting him riled up like this. “They’ve both got fermentation or whatever, right?”
“Well yeah but that’s because they’re both alcoholic. That’s how the alcohol is made, it ferments. Same with wine. Are we sure the cryonic freezing didn’t destroy the common sense portion of your brain?”
“No. Because remember, I've never been frozen in this world.”
He scoffed. “Right, right, right. Okay so you buy me a drink and I’d awkwardly say thank you and that’s it, cus I’m awful at talking to people.”
“Okay, well, maybe they’d be playing Prometheus at the bar and I’d bring up what an awful movie that is.”
“And then I’d argue that it’s actually not all that bad.”
“A ridiculous hill to die on.”
“Oh please, that’s not even in my top 10 most ridiculous opinions.” Before Warren could interrupt, Gordon continued. “What would we even do, in this new world? If we’re free from the constraints of Red Valley.” His tone was a mix of playful and wistful.
“A lot of the stuff that we do now. We’d still play Goldeneye and you could show me your Pus Crank tapes.”
Warren couldn’t resist anymore, he turned onto his side and his breath caught when he saw Gordon was already looking at him. Their bodies were both angled toward each other. Warmth settled in his chest and the world seemed to shrink around them.
He cleared his throat. “See? We could still be friends in this other world.”
Gordon was warming up to their bit. “We could actually hang out without a looming deadline over our shoulder.”
The space between them was only a few inches, but the distance felt cavernous.
Gordon didn’t mention it. “We could go out to eat at this really good Korean place near my flat and talk about anything and everything except cryonic preservation.”
For a brief moment, Warren felt the urge to cry. As if he was mourning this dead, impossible life. He swallowed the lump in his throat.
“In this universe I wouldn’t even know what that meant.”
Gordon shifted in place and a single brown curl fell in front of his face. “Exactly. Maybe we’d still go on a road trip, though.” He kept talking, but Warren struggled to focus on anything but tucking that stray hair back into place. “To somewhere normal. And the names ‘Clive Shill’ and ‘Bryony Halbech’ would never enter our heads.”
The mention of Bryony pulled him back into reality. “Is this before or after I go to prison?”
Gordon frowned. “Stop. Don’t do that. Don’t ruin the fantasy.”
“Right. Of course.” He desperately wanted to make him smile again. “In this life, I’ve made far better decisions and have landed an extremely average life that doesn’t involve going to jail for a mysterious crime.”
He yawned. “I like this world we’re making. Sounds like a good time.”
Their conversation lulled. This would be the part where they were meant to say goodnight and let the moment fade away.
But neither of them said anything.
Gordon’s features were softened by the darkness and the weight of sleepiness on him. He wasn’t wearing his glasses and his cheek was squished against his pillow.
In a place where everyone disregarded his wellbeing in the pursuit of knowledge, Gordon’s earnest desire to see him happy was overwhelming.
You don’t care that I’m ‘the chosen one’.
The silence stretched on between them, but Warren wasn’t in any hurry to break it. He wondered what Gordon saw, when he looked at him.
Did he see a science experiment gone wrong? A violent criminal? A ticking time bomb?
Or, did he see a normal guy sitting at their local bar drinking a glass of whiskey. No baggage, just possibility.
Gordon moved imperceptibly closer to him. His eyes flitted across Warren’s face. They paused, briefly, on his lips, before landing back on Gordon’s own hands lying between them.
There was something about the darkness that felt intimate and safe. He felt hidden, despite the fact that they were close enough to see each minut movement on the other’s face.
“And um.” Warren’s voice felt staggeringly loud, even though he was barely whispering. “In this hypothetical bar I might have already had a drink or two, and I might be feeling braver than usual.”
Gordon’s fingers twitched against the blanket. “Yeah?”
Things were good now, comfortable. Did Warren really want to risk ruining that because of his own selfish desires?
“I might be thinking about how nice this dork with terrible taste in movies and a grandma cardigan looks.”
Yes. The answer was yes.
“That’s not- ugh. You should be so grateful that this alternate Gordon is willing to put up with your bullshit.” Gordon huffed.
There it is. That goddamn smile.
Gordon seemed to be fighting it, but he was never good at hiding his joy. “And, um. If this really cool guy, as we’ve described, if he was also thinking about- well, you-”
“What exactly is he thinking about me?”
“I mean, I can’t know for sure,” Warren rolled his eyes. “But if I had to take a random guess he might be thinking about how soft your hair looks and how stupidly blue your eyes are- they’re like something straight out of a novel and- I’m just asking, what might you do?”
Warren prayed that whatever wave of confidence he was suddenly riding would last a little longer.
“I might kiss him.”
The silence in the room was deafening.
“...”
Icy pricks of regret began to creep up Warren’s spine. “Gordon?”
Idiot.
Fucking idiot.
He’s your only friend and you’ve fucked it up with your own messy feelings. He won’t be here next time you wake up.
“If you did- he um- he would kiss you back.”
Warren felt his entire world shift off its axis. “Oh.”
Gordon was staring at him like he had just cut off his arm and was now offering it up to Warren’s judgement. A mix of fear, hope, and desperation was spread openly on his face.
It was impossible, really, to be at the receiving end of Gordon’s large brown eyes and not kiss him.
Warren closed the gap between them. He pressed his lips against his once, quickly, cowardly, and then pulled back.
Gordon leaned forward, following Warren, as if he was trapped in his orbit. “Warren…” It came out as more of a sigh than an actual world.
And Christ- Warren knew he was a greedy man because he kissed him again, harder this time. He cupped Gordon’s face with his hand and kept kissing him until he could hardly breathe.
He wanted to be so close to Gordon he was practically in his skin- he wanted to run away from everything. It was all too much and not enough.
The last time he had kissed anyone was Ka- Bryony and it certainly was never like this.
Gordon kissed him like he was scared Warren would turn to dust between his hands any second now. He touched him like he was rare and precious.
Nothing outside of that room mattered anymore. The rest of Red Valley- hell, the whole world could burn down and none of it would be as important as the sound of Gordon’s soft sighs.
His fingers pressed deep into the skin on Warren’s waist as they pulled each other even closer.
Finally, Warren stopped and just stared at him. His lips were wet and tinged red, a reminder that what just happened wasn’t a dream- it was real.
“There it is.” Gordon’s voice was brimming with satisfaction.
Warren’s heart was still pounding in his chest. “Wha?”
“Your smile. I haven’t seen it all day.”
That hit Warren like a truck, so he did the thing he’s been wanting to do since stepping inside the bedroom. He wrapped his arms around Gordon and, without a lick of self-consciousness, buried his face in the crook of his neck.
Gordon’s breath hitched but he quickly held him. He didn't laugh or push him away. One of his hands trailed up Warren’s back and scratched his scalp lightly.
"It's okay, Warren, it'll be okay. I'm here for you."
The touch was so gentle, Warren could feel the tears he’d been holding back threatening to spill again.
He didn’t want this night to end, he wanted to keep the two of them in their own little bubble forever.
Warren closed his eyes and focused on the sound of Gordon’s consistent breathing. Every time he inhaled and exhaled, Warren shifted against his chest.
If he let himself believe it, he could imagine they were at Gordon’s flat.
Maybe after the bar, we’d go back to his place and we’d be just like this.
In the morning, Warren would wake up to see his appropriately cluttered flat, and maybe Gordon would try to make them breakfast and it would go spectacularly awry. That was a nice thought. The idea of being woken up to the smell of burnt toast and the sound of Gordon’s humming.
He wanted that so badly, it hurt.
“I don't think I want to do this anymore. I want to get out. I want us both to get out.” His words were slightly muffled against Gordon’s shirt.
Gordon nodded. “Okay then.”
He sighed. “Okay then.”