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Max was rudely awakened from his peaceful slumber by someone violently shaking his right shoulder.
“Max, Max wake up. Blimey, do you sleep like the dead? Wake the fuck up.”
For an unconscious moment, he thought there was a thief, but he discarded the idea because how would a thief get into the dorms?
Blinking away the haze, and rubbing sleep from his eyes, he moved his head a little, only to realise that it was George, his very own roommate, who had woken him. His roommate, who was now busy poking incessantly at Max’s arm.
Max tried to shove him off. George of course, took no notice of the dismissal, and carried on with his relentless pursuits.
“Wake up.”
At this rate he knew the bastard would break skin.
“George, what do you think you're doing?” Max asked, slightly irritated, because what the hell?
“Have you lost it? I mean, completely? And why are all the lights on?”
“Oh thank god you’re awake,” George said with a hint of relief in his voice.
“George, what's going—” Before he could finish the sentence, he found himself with an armful of George, who flung himself at him, and clung to him as if for dear life.
“Did you wake me only to hug me?” Max asked softly, because, well, he was touched.
With someone like George, something like this wouldn’t surprise him at all. George was an overfeeling guy.
Max liked that about him.
Hell. Max liked everything about him.
“Listen George, I appreciate the gesture but—”
“No, I didn’t wake you because I suddenly remembered you needed a hug,” George muttered exasperated. “You need to look up.”
“Look where?”
“Look at the ceiling.”
“Yeah, it’s white, very pretty. Can I go back to sleep now?”
“Max, there's a lizard there, on our ceiling.”
What the—
“Is that why you woke me? So you could show me the lizard on our ceiling?”
“No. I woke you so you could get up and fight it.”
“You fight it, George. You love fighting. I’m going back to sleep.”
“I cannot fight wild animals, Max. Get the fuck up.”
“Wild animals?” Max let out a helpless laugh. “it’s a three-inch lizard.”
“Max—” There was a hint of warning in his voice.
“Just… try to sleep, George.”
“I can’t. it’s looking at me.”
“So, either you stare right back. Or you ignore it. you close your eyes, and go back to sleep. It’ll see itself out.”
“Max, I'm warning you. Do not talk to me in this tone.”
“In what tone?”
“Like you are a headmaster of a school, talking to a slow pupil.”
Max laughed.
“It’s not funny.”
“George, it’s hanging up there doing its own thing, probably looking for some live bugs to eat, just let it be.”
“I’m live.”
Max rolled his eyes. “You’re also 6'1. A little too big for a finger sized reptile to snack on.”
“Are you going to do it or not?”
One glance at George’s blue eyes was all it took.
He knew how much George hated bugs, and Max just... couldn't resist.
This was probably what you got for falling in love with your roommate.
“Yes, I’m going to do it, because if I don’t, you will spend the rest of the night shaking and crying and throwing tantrums, and I need my beauty sleep.”
“Off you go, then.” George said, petting his shoulder, smiling again, now that he had gotten what he wanted.
Max just shook his head.
This was nothing new. Just George being George. Coming up with the absurdities only he could come up with. Life with the man was never uneventful.
He got off the bed.
What followed after was wrestling match, that went on for a good half an hour, with Max running after the damn thing, and George running around trying to save himself, and directing occasional ‘you got this’ in Max’s direction.
By the end of it, needless to say, more than just their bedroom peace was disrupted.
It took some time, and a lot more effort, but Max escorted the lizard outside, safely, thank you very much. And finally, sweaty and breathless, he ended up sitting next to George on their shared couch.
Resisting the urge to groan, he spared a glance in George’s direction, only to find that the bastard, the absolute bastard, was trying to suppress a smile.
“George.” Max said warningly, but the smile headed up the smirk territory.
“It's not funny.” Max said, with an expansive gesture, tone mimicking George’s earlier one. That seemed to have done it, because George laughed. It came bubbling out of him; loud, and beautiful, and infectious.
Max knew he had never really stood a chance.
George was a sight and Max could not look away. He wanted to hold George’s face in both his hands and kiss him. But he couldn’t. Because George was his friend, and friends didn’t kiss each other.
“Now can I go back to sleep?” Max asked before his thoughts could drift further. He didn’t want to think about kissing George. Not in the middle of the night. Not when he was like this, so beautiful and almost dream-like.
“Yes,” George said, smiling a little.
Max tried to get up, but George stopped him with a hand on his wrist. Before Max could ask what was wrong now, George leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you. You’re sweet.”
And then he walked to over to his own bed and pulled a blanket over his head.
Max sat there, stunned and silent and hopelessly in love. He pressed a hand to his own cheek like some love-struck teenager, but then pulled it back when he realised how embarrassing he was being.
Still.
George had kissed his cheek.
His.
He picked up a paper and a pen.
Maybe sleep could wait a little bit longer.