Work Text:
THUD
To say that you had grown accustomed to the night having its share of loud noises, whether it was the aching of the old building or someone deciding 3 a.m. was the perfect time to rearrange the furniture, would be an understatement. If it actually got to the point that you stirred the most you afforded the interruption was a half-assed string of emojis to the apartment group chat. Maybe you got an apology from the offending party but by the time it came through the vibrations went straight in one and out the other tuned-out ear. In college every hour of sleep was worth its weight in instant coffee.
With one hand already unlocking your phone and the other wiping the weariness from your eyes, you stopped as the first emoji befell the group chat. Although your apartment often groaned and whined that its last inspection was a few years out of date it didn't… literally sob. Especially with so much snot. "Pleassssse… don't go…"
Or beg, actually.
"Elio," you drew his name out long and low as you realized he wasn't next to you anymore, "did you roll out of bed again?" This is why you always pushed him against the wall when he slept over; he could sleep in any position which meant he went through all of them over the course of the night. There's only so much real estate for twisting and turning on a twin before the tumbling becomes the tumble.
And let's just say that Elio was a gold medalist.
He whimpered as he rolled onto his side, hand slapping against the floor as he seemingly reached for the door. "We can," he heaved in, "we can figure this out."
You had to be dreaming, or, he had to be dreaming. One of you had to be. You swung yourself out of bed, "What are you even talking about?" sliding down onto the floor beside his now crawling, "Where are you going…?" form.
"I have to," he banged his head on the ground as he flopped fully onto his stomach, "I have to stop you."
"From doing what?"
"From… leaving," air sucked in—
"Oh god, Elio, don't!"
—and he let out a more than typical ugly wail, "from leaving me!"
With considerable effort, Elio's stupor only amplifying the fact he was built like a brick house, you peeled the guy off the floor. "I'm right here, sunshine," you said as you guided his face to yours. In the pale glow of your now buzzing phone your thumb dammed up one flowing river. He really was an ugly, messy crier.
"But you," a few sniffles as he tried to assure himself that his blurry eyes weren't betraying him, "you left me." You tugged him a bit closer, part to comfort him and part in vain hope that maybe you had the strength to lug him off the floor. However, as if to thwart the latter, he took the motion as an invitation to thrust his entire weight into you.
KATHUNK
You weren't sure if the buzzing was from your head colliding with the ground or your phone again. "Well," you thought aloud, a proverbial white flag in your hand as you ran it through the back of his matted hair, "I came back."
Elio buried his face into the crook of your neck, "And you'll… stay?"
"Yeah," your cheek stuck to his, "I'm staying." The rest of that sentence ("Right here… on the floor…") formed into a heavy sigh as he melted—or, more like, melted you; how could he run hotter?—into you.
"Forever?"
"For…" Although there was no certainty to the statement being made half-asleep on a Thursday night, coerced out of you by a weight that could crush you, and between two still starry-eyed college kids, "…ever," felt better—truer—to say than now.
"And I couldn't move at all as you walked out," Elio recounted as he pressed his palms into your back, "I really thought you were gone for good."
"I hope dream me isn't usually like this," you replied before lifting the mug to your lips. Elio pushed a bit more suddenly sending a splash of the needed coffee onto the island counter. A nervous laugh that earned him a (creaky) glance over your (tense) shoulders.
Although caffeine had lost its edge by now thanks to plenty of all-nighters, the sheepishness of this goof of yours trying to hide what "No…" meant, well…
A few spoonfuls of two-dollar grounds were a more than worthwhile trade for a few hours spent sleeping on the floor.