Work Text:
Some people prefer to spend their holidays in solitude: alone in their room, occupied by hobbies, occasionally clawing their way out to sustain themselves. I'm usually like that. I have literally one friend. One. I've never even been to that friend's house.
But! I've been over to my friend +'s house many times before ('friend +' we're Queerplatonic partners).
During the Easter break, I was going to be alone, but Ray was able to have me over for a sleepover (is that too immature to say? I can never tell, but whatever, I freaking stayed over and loved it) so then I was safer and we also just enjoy the company of each other.
One of the first things that we did when we arrived at his house was just to sit down on his bed for a little while and just hold each other in our arms.
I love doing that.
I love him.
We sit there and talk to each other about random stuff, declaring stupid things like 'I felt I be meanded' or whatever our bazaar conversations lead us to.
Between these strange remarks were deeper conversations than we could have with anyone; we knew each other so well, almost better than anyone else knew is. Well, I can confirm he certainly knows me better than everyone else knows me. I hope I can be the same to him: holding him through his worst moments, being someone he can always talk to, a guiding figure for him.
I'm such a fricking loser nerd, as he loves to say.
I don't even mind, I just love being around him. When I lie in bed alone— or am even just anywhere (everywhere) I miss him— I feel his arms wrap around me, bulling me close, warmly embracing me with his soft touch. I get so upset that I can't embrace these imaginary arms.
But on this day I could. I was able to hold him close at night, wake up to him in the morning, able to watch each other sleep.
He fell asleep first as I wasn't as tired, and we had already agreed upon me sleeping later. I prefer waking up to him that way, slowly preparing for the day with him there for me.
We also had a snuggle context to see who was the cutest/prettiest snd who loves the other the most. Winner (the last to let go) got to chose which they wanted and the other person had the remaining one. Well, it was a rematch. Last time had ended in me winning thay Ray was cuter and Ray winning loving me the most.
I watched him sleep in my arms as I whispered (as to not wake him or notify his parents as to what was happening at all) how much I loved him, cared for him and how I would do anything for him.
I don't deserve him.
But I wish to have him in my life as much as I can.
As I tried to make some form of physical contact with him as to not lose the contest, but still reach something, the grip of his hand on mine tightened. I paused.
My heart tightened at the cuteness before me.
He means everything to me and more. And I mayyyyyybeeee pressed a kiss or two two to hos hand? (He had also said before thay this is okay, communication is very important).
Once I had returned from grabbing my phone to check the time, I came back closer to him and sat there in admiration. He stirred in his sleep, making small noises of discomfort. I asked if he needed a break, which he nodded at. I remained in the bed as he fell asleep again, yet that felt too close, like I was forcing us to be that close, so I went to the air mattress on the floor (…let's just say both of our parents are supposed to think we're just friends, despite all of the allegations we receive).
I only went further and further away.
Then my mind snapped, as it has done several nights in a row.
I can't fully describe what had happened, but it was simalar to suffocation. I knew the words when I was in that state, but I never know out of it. Presumably as my thoughts weren't reasonable. Over the next two hours or so, I begged for him to wake up— not for anything in particular. A break from physical contact needed is a break from physical contact needed.
Even just feeling his awake eyes on me would protect me. But my begging continued and no change was made. I grabbed a safety pin and thought of something, well, not safe. But I couldn't. Not with him right there. Not with having to tell him what I'd done. Not with potentially dying in his bedroom. I could continue with this, for him.
So I typed it out to him instead, so I wouldn't need to explain it all out loud once he woke. It calmed me.
He calmed me, even while asleep.
I sat there, watching for when he awoke. This was when I noticed that he usually sleeps with his right eye slightly open. It was kinda cute. He is really cute though. I could've admired that more if my eyes weren't hurting so much from crying I needed to put a semi-cold can of monster to my eyes.
After two, three hours, his eyes fully opened with a soft noise. I forgot all of my worries as he nodded eagerly at me asking if he wanted me to come closer, even more so at the idea of snuggling again.
Unfortunately, I apparently wasnt so good at hiding what I had been doing. As his whispered repeatedly 'are you okay?' I passed him his phone, murmuring repetitions of 'sorry' before being met with presumed disappointment. I was not met with that. I was met with a warm embrace, him holding me tight and being proud of me for still being clean.
I love him.
He kissed me, gently, with so much love. I felt so loved. He means the world to me and more. We stayed like that, being close to each other and just talking about whatever came to mind, until I made a mistake. I let go, meaning I lost the snuggle contest, despite him not specifying it restarted. But I love Ray so much I couldn't argue with him. This also meant that the results stayed the same as he wanted to love me more. So he's still the cutest thing ever!
Soon, it was my turn to sleep. He let me lie into him, wrapping his warm arms around me.
Once I woke up, I had my back turned to him, his arms once again pulling me closer as a regained consciousness. It's weird to be perceived once I first wake up, which ive told him, so we like to do this. He also just likes the gesture in general.
Once we were awake and ready for the day (and had heard Ray's mother wonder how he slept after seeing his messed up bedsheets, causing us to laugh as she expressed her confusion), we started it in the best way possible: shots of monster! I brought two plastic shot glasses for us. It's my favourite method of drinking them; the vibes are so much better out of shot glasses regardless of the drink.
As we once again sit they talking about everything so important and so random, out speech was often cut short in order for our lips to collide, love exploding from the action. I loved it so much, I love being close to him so much.
Once we pulled away, we both remarked on separate occasions, 'you taste like monster'.
I love being a stupid teenager. We get to say stupid things like that.
I love how we can be so close to each other, serious about what's happening, deeply caring and then also laughing so hard it's physically uncontrollable.
The only thing I don't like is how I know that the next morning, I won't wake up next to him, but I can't wait for the days where I can.