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cal remembers it because it was ridiculous.
and because, looking back on it now, years after their teenage days were behind them, it probably should've told him something.
he just didn't know it yet.
—
it had been during one of those sleepovers that somehow lasted three days.
cal had shown up at andre’s house on a friday afternoon and apparently never left.
they'd played videogames. watched terrible movies. eaten everything in the kitchen.
and when midnight rolled around, they realized something important.
“where’s your sleeping bag?” cal asked.
andre was already changing into an old t-shirt.
“dunno.”
“what you mean, dunno?”
andre shrugged.
“i lost it.”
“how do you lose a sleeping bag?”
“i don't know, cal.”
“it's literally a giant bag.”
another shrug, completely unbothered.
cal stared at him. andre stared back.
“...so where am i supposed to sleep?”
andre pointed at the bed.
the tiny, very single-person bed.
cal looked at it, then at andre, then back at the bed.
“no way.”
“okay.”
“okay?”
“sleep on the floor then.”
“what?”
“if you don't like it.”
andre climbed onto the mattress, already settling in and closing his eyes, like this conversation was over.
cal hated him.
—
ten minutes later, they were both squeezed onto the tiny bed.
cal was clutching one of andre’s pillows to his chest like a shield.
“listen.”
andre groaned immediately.
“what.”
“i don't want you crossing this line onto my side, okay?”
he drew an imaginary line down the middle of the mattress.
andre opened one eye, staring at him genuinely offended by the stupidity.
“whose bed is this anyway?”
“that's not the point.”
“if you don't like it, sleep on the floor.”
“you're such an asshole.”
“whatever. goodnight, cal.”
andre turned over, giving him his back.
conversation over. again.
cal rolled his eyes, mumbled several things that probably would've gotten him punched, and then turned around too, his back facing andre's.
—
a few minutes passed.
silence.
the room dark except for moonlight coming through the curtains.
cal was almost asleep when something touched his leg.
he looked down. andre’s foot was over the imaginary line, very deliberately.
cal narrowed his eyes.
“hey.”
nothing.
“hey!”
andre's shoulders shook suspiciously.
“move your foot.”
“what foot?”
“your gross foot.”
“don't know what you're talking about.”
cal shoved it away.
andre immediately put it back.
“andre.”
“yeah?”
“fucking move!”
“make me.”
“i swear to god.”
“wooo,” andre said flatly. “i'm over the line.”
cal groaned.
“what are you gonna do about it, huh?”
then suddenly, andre launched himself at him.
not hard, just enough.
an arm wrapping around cal's waist, completely invading every inch of his precious personal space.
“andre!”
“wooo.”
“get off!”
“i'm over the line!”
cal started laughing.
the kind of belly laughs that made it hard to breathe.
andre was laughing too now, smug as hell.
and for some reason, neither of them moved.
—
eventually, andre sat back up.
hair sticking everywhere. looking annoyingly pleased with himself.
cal's laughter faded into smaller giggles.
and for a moment, they just looked at each other.
comfortable, easy, like they always were.
—
looking back on it now,
the way i felt about you, andre,
felt a lot like falling in love.
—
they eventually settled down again, this time facing each other.
mostly because there wasn't enough room not to.
the bed creaked every time either of them moved.
andre fell asleep first.
of course he did. he always could sleep anywhere.
cal couldn't. not when andre was right there.
not when he was close enough to count his eyelashes.
so he watched him just for a minute, or maybe ten. he couldn't remember.
moonlight spilled across andre’s face, softening all the sharp edges. his dark hair was messy, his mouth slightly parted.
cal's eyes lingered there for a second too long. then another. heat crept up his neck.
he immediately looked away, then looked back, because apparently he hated himself.
god, he was handsome.
stupidly handsome.
unfairly handsome.
cal pulled the blanket up higher, trying to ignore the way his stomach felt weird. trying to ignore everything.
then andre moved, still asleep, completely unconscious.
and suddenly an arm hooked around cal's waist, pulling him closer like it was the most natural thing in the world.
cal froze. every muscle locking up.
his heart nearly exploding out of his chest.
“oh, shit,” he whispered.
andre just made a sleepy noise and held on tighter.
after a moment, cal relaxed. curling closer despite himself, tucking into the warmth at his side.
he closed his eyes, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.
and fell asleep like that.
—
years later, cal still remembered every second of it.
the imaginary line. the stupid argument. the laughter.
the way andre had pulled him closer without even waking up.
all those tiny moments that didn't seem important at the time.
but now, they felt obvious.
like clues he'd somehow missed.
because looking back,
he thinks a part of him had already fallen for andre long before either of them knew what to call it.