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Apollo was well in bed and half asleep by the time Clay had gotten back from the library. He guessed it was around 10, so he was significantly more disappointed to find out it was just past 1:30. Curse the fact that that place was open longer than 10:00. Double curse it for being 24 hours. Clay would lock himself in there for a week if he could. Apollo blinks further into consciousness, listening to Clay’s backpack hit the floor, the fridge open and close, and the sound of him presumably just making a sandwich. He supposes that's better than him dropping into bed without having eaten dinner.
After a minute or so, he heard the trash can open, close, and then slower-than-usual steps towards his bedroom. The door opened slowly, started squeaking, paused, and then opened further, light from the kitchen spilling into Apollo’s room. Books are stacked up on his desk, a few half-empty mugs of tea pushed to the corner. It doesn’t look bad, but it’s a wreck compared to Clay’s room.
“Don't you have work in the mornin’?” Clay asks, staring at an obviously awake Apollo.
“I woke up when you opened the door.”
Clay winces slightly, taking off his GYAXA hoodie and tossing it over the back of Apollo’s swivel chair. “Thought I was being quiet.”
“I’m a light sleeper, you know that,” Apollo says quietly, watching Clay kick his shoes off beside the doorway and step inside.
“I didn't mean to wake you up.” He opens his drawers, grabbing a t-shirt, most likely from a space camp or lab he visited, and a pair of pajama shorts.
“I know.” Apollo watches him face away to change, his new-ish muscle really starting to show. Clay had always been more fit than the other, but recently he’s decided he needed to “start early” on working out. It was obviously starting to pay off. He was almost upset to see it covered with a t-shirt again. “Aren’t you going on a run in… 5 hours?”
Clay grimaces. “Maybe I’ll cut it a little short.” He plugs his phone in on his nightstand. Apollo’s sure there’s already an alarm set for 5:30 on there, plus a hundred calendar reminders about grading for the class he TA’s, exams, practice sets, work, so on and so forth. He sighs heavily before dropping next to Apollo in his bed.
“Jesus- you could lie down regularly,” Apollo grumbles at the sudden jostle. Clay is already face-to-face with him, a little grin on his face. He’s significantly colder than the warmth under the sheet, bringing in the chill from the outside.
“And miss a chance to hear you complain about somethin’ stupid? Never.”
Apollo rolls his eyes, but when Clay stretches out and pulls him into his arms, he certainly doesn't complain.
“Mm… missed you all day,” Clay murmurs into his hair.
“Yeah, you were in, like, a different dimension. I usually see you before your 11:00 A.M., where were you?”
“I got there early. Wanted to get a little extra time on that midterm, yeah?”
Apollo hums, satisfied with the explanation but not the reason. He pulls back a little and brushes his hand through Clay’s hair, pushing it out of his eyes. “How come you were out so late?”
“Meeting my cruel mistress, computational fluid dynamics.
“Don’t say words like that to me.”
Clay snickers. “Of course, can’t ask that little humanities brain of yours to dare think.”
“Hey!” Apollo says, pulling back a little, but obviously amused. “I’d like to see you do law school.”
“I’d rather saw my arm off.”
“Then let's call it even.”
Apollo glances over Clay’s face a little longer. “You were working this late?”
“Like you aren't the king of all nighters.”
“Only when I’m forced to. This is the… what, fourth night you've done this? Do you even eat before you hole up?”
Clay makes a face that's guilty enough to be noticeable, but he's obviously trying to hide it. “Always.”
“Liar.”
“I just forgot today! I ain’t perfect, sue me, Mr. Bigshot Lawyer Intern.”
Apollo huffs, unsure whether to smile at the compliment or poke him in the stomach for the condescension. “Maybe I will.” A brief pause before, “You’re gonna burn yourself out.”
“I’ve never done that in my life.” He looks wry in the little light that comes from outside, just an old orange street lamp outside that lights up the alley behind their building.
“Clay.”
“What?”
“I’m being serious.”
“Calm down,” Clay sighs. “I’m not overworking. This is a perfectly normal workload,” he says as he rubs the heels of his palms against his eyes.
“Still.”
“Still,” he mutters, burying his face in the crook of Apollo’s neck. “Still nothing. Bug me about whatever later, please. My brain hurts.”
Apollo’s hand brushes through the hair on the back of his head. “Fair.” He watches Clay take a few slow breaths, his back rising and falling.
“If I don't get above a 90 on this exam, you’ll never hear from me again.”
“Don’t say that,” Apollo huffs.
“I’m serious. I’ll just have to drop out. Go be a monk. In… Eastern Russia.”
“One exam could send you to Russia?”
“Absolutely.”
“High stakes.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“I’d miss you,”
“Dawww.” He feels Clay grin before he sits up to be face-to-face with Apollo. “You mean that?”
“What do you think?” Apollo makes a face at him. “Obviously.”
“‘m flattered, seriously.”
Apollo rolls his eyes again, but presses a kiss to the side of Clay’s mouth, and he can feel his breath stutter. “You should be.” Another kiss to the other side. “I did miss you.”
The small kisses disarm Clay, and he’s nearly immediately a puddle. “I missed you too… a lot.” He tilts his cheek towards Apollo, who lets out a fond huff before planting another few small pecks there. Clay gets this look on his face when he gets attention without asking, a sort of cartoonish swoon that makes Apollo laugh when he’s with him, and gives him butterflies to think about when he’s alone. As affectionate as Clay is, he never really goes out of his way to ask for attention. He might as well; it’s obvious enough when he wants it, but Apollo doesn't say anything about it. All it takes is scratching his scalp and a few sweet words for him to melt like this.
“Yeah?” Apollo asks, grinning a little.
“Yeah. I have all week.”
“I don’t not see you.”
“I know, I just… I dunno. You’re at work, or I’m in the lab, or you’re in class, or I’m studying. It sucks.”
“It could be worse. Besides, I’m off next week while Mr. Gavin’s on holiday. That’ll be good, yeah? Not do anything for a few days.”
Clay nods thoughtfully, appreciative of the idea of a break. “That’ll be nice. Finally get you to myself, yeah?” He hums, a cheeky grin on his face as he slides his hands up under Apollo’s t-shirt. Apollo jolts at the unexpected (but definitely not unwelcome) contact.
“Quit it.”
“I’m serious!”
“Don’t act like you’re gonna do anything about it now.”
“I didn’t say that. Weirdo. Don’t be weird, Apollo.”
Apollo snorts. “So sorry. I’ll reel it in.” Clay hasn’t moved his hands from Apollo’s bare sides. He moves closer, curling up into his chest. Apollo messes with his hair some more, watching the way it catches the light of the outside lamp. Clay yawns softly and grumbles.
“I’m so tired, ‘Pollo. Seriously. I love what I do, but Christ…”
Apollo’s expression falls. “Yeah… I get it.”
Clay nods once. “I know you do. Just sucks. I’m ready to be done. Skip to the good part.” He takes a deep breath. “I need a day off. Eventually.”
“You sure you don’t feel sick?” Apollo teases. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say those words in that order.”
Clay laughs a little. “You’re no better.”
“Didn’t say I was.”
“Touché.”
“That’s what I thought.” Apollo looks down at his boyfriend, his eyes following the freckles that lead under the collar of his t-shirt. He tilts Clay’s head up slightly. “Hey.” Clay looks up, already half-asleep. Apollo can’t help but smile a little at the sight, brushing his thumb over his cheek. “You’re fine.”
“I know.”
“Say it.”
“Do I hafta?”
“You’ll feel better if you do and you know it.”
Clay rolls his eyes. “I’m Clay Terran, and I’m fine.”
“Look at that, you feel better.”
“Totally rejuvenated. Could run a marathon right now.” Clay grins up at Apollo, fidgeting with the hair that falls over his face. Even in the darkness, he looks handsome. Stupidly handsome. How on Earth Apollo gets to hold a guy like this escapes him entirely. Clay sinks back into the pillow with a heavy sigh. Apollo follows, his leg wedging between Clay’s, tucking his arm beneath his neck, and pulling him closer. He makes a soft noise of contentment.
“You’re cold.”
“It’s cold outside.”
Apollo pulls his comforter up without even thinking about it.
Clay’s breathing gets heavier, but not quite the sound of sleep yet. Apollo finds himself counting how many breaths he takes, finding a warm comfort in the sight.
“You’re staring.” His voice is slightly muffled.
“Am not.”
“If I open my eyes, you won’t be staring at me?”
“Nope.”
When Clay opens his eyes and finds himself looking right at Apollo, he laughs out loud. “You couldn’t have tried to hide it?”
“You caught me.”
“I caught you.”
Apollo traces his arm, squeezing it softly. “You go to the gym today?”
“Nah, rest day.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“Mm, flattery,” Clay snickers, adjusting so he’s actually eye-to-eye with Apollo. “It’ll get you far, ‘Pollo.” His hands are back up under Apollo’s shirt, and the other makes a face.
“You’re not getting anything out of me.”
“I’m not tryin’ to! Maybe I just like the physical contact,” Clay pouts, putting extra emphasis on each of the syllables. “Some people are touchy. You oughta be used to this by now.”
“I should be.”
“You should.” Clay starts to move away, but Apollo catches his hands before he can.
“I didn’t say you had to move.”
“You said it with your face. And tone. I’m just readin’ between the lines,” Clay says with a dramatic turn of his body away from Apollo. “I know when I’m not wanted. If you need me, I’ll be over here. Alone. And cold. And sad. So sad. I could die from sadness right now-”
“Jesus Christ,” Apollo finally cracks with a laugh, pulling Clay back towards him and into his arms. “You’re such a baby.”
“I wouldn’t hafta be if you weren’t so mean to me.”
“You know I love you.”
Clay grins, and it’s like the night outside is pushed away by the sun in front of him. “No way. You’ve got a crush on me. I’m gonna tell.”
“Not even an I love you too?”
“How’d you know?”
Apollo glances at the way Clay has tangled himself back up in his limbs. “Call it a lucky guess.”
“Lucky as hell. That’s my best-kept secret.”
Apollo makes a soft noise of acknowledgement, closing his eyes. “You had better be home before 12:00 tomorrow. Or… I don’t know what I’ll do. We’ll find out.”
“You’ve got my word.” He finds Apollo’s hand and wraps their pinkies around each other, before bringing them to his lips and placing a small kiss there, as if to seal the promise. Apollo gives a half-smile at the feeling.
Clay presses the kiss to their linked fingers like it’s sacred, then settles back into the pillow. “G’night,” he murmurs again, already drifting.
Apollo studies him in the dim light, thumb brushing over Clay’s knuckle.
“I love you,” Apollo says softly, like it’s something only the dark is meant to hear. He’s, admittedly, never been one for words, even the simple ones. They come easier in the dark, though. When everything feels like it’s cushioned by the night’s silence. He presses his forehead to Clay’s, to make sure the words stay between them.
Clay smiles, squeezing his pinky again. “I know.”