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Noah had no intentions of ever watching such a disgustingly cliché rom-com, but compromise is an essential for a healthy relationship—or so says his therapist, but whatever. The point is that he's never seen anything so painfully mind-numbing except his sister's track meets.
Alejandro, however, has been prodding him with quite serious questions about his intel on each episode's ending. Noah has nodded and said "lackluster" four times, and he goes for a fifth before Alejandro catches on.
"They can't all be lackluster, dear," Alejandro complains, carding his hands through Noah's hair. His blunt, carefully filed nails just scrape the skin every time he does it. "We've watched five episodes, and you've rated the latest four the same way."
"I said that you could turn it on, not that I'd be paying attention aptly," Noah refutes, letting his eyes flutter back shut with an unintentional sigh. Alejandro's skin is warm enough for it to feel as if lying on a heated blanket. Between the rhythmic motions against his scalp, the hushed chatter from the TV, and the smell of caramel popcorn, he is more than ready to splay himself out on Alejandro's couch and never wake up.
"Noah, don't be difficult." Alejandro's chiding is not very effective given that he does not even stop his ministrations, but the intent is mildly there. "I think, personally, that the prose here is interesting."
Humming something noncommittal into the other's thigh, Noah yelps when a lock of his hair is tugged on gently. "You jerk. I was at least pretending to pay attention, unlike some people who stare at my hair while we watch documentaries."
"You know that's not fair," Alejandro protests, flicking his forehead. "I get queasy watching murder. I stay awake and pay attention, at least."
"To my hair."
"Which is plenty important."
Relenting, Noah presses a soft kiss to the corner of the Hispanic's lips in apology, which quickly devolves into a fit of laughter shared between the two. Alejandro peppers his skin with kisses of his own in retaliation, making obnoxious smacking noises each time he pulls away.
"Stop it!" Noah complains, wiping his cheek, smeared with Alejandro's saliva. He weakly punches the other as he scrubs at the damp spot, flushing to the tips of his ears. "Aren't you supposed to be the insanely clean one here?"
"I am clean. You wouldn't date a disgusting person, would you?"
"Considering the fact you've kissed a pineapple more passionately than you have me at times, I ponder that a lot." He yelps when Alejandro flicks him again. "It's true!"
"I make out with you all the time!"
"Uh, yeah, but not like the way you did to a fruit."
"Noah, dear, I am going to hit you if you do not stop. I was utterly delirious from the heat and having an epiphany."
"That was a weak threat." He slowly untangles himself from his boyfriend and stretches, yawning. "And a weak justification, but I'll let it slide because I'm tired."
"It is late, I suppose." Alejandro reaches over and turns on his phone, its obnoxiously bright screen lighting up the dim room. "Very late," he amends, brows scrunching in concern. "You can't drive home at twenty past midnight."
"It's not any trouble," Noah assures him, grappling with his phone and keys from the side table. He rubs his eyes, then opens them back up to be met with utter disappointment. "I have plenty of experience driving."
"It's late, Noah, and you're tired," Alejandro protests, giving him a stern look that doesn't quite land because of the fondness in his eyes. "You can stay for the night. I'll drive you in the morning, okay?"
"Are you sure? I don't—"
"You're my boyfriend. Of course I want you here."
Ignoring the surge of elation he gets at the word 'boyfriend', Noah nods softly, letting Alejandro lead both of them back to his room, blanket draped over his shoulders like a makeshift cape. It drags on the floor behind them, catching once on the corner and making Alejandro lose his remarkable balance, leading to another fit of tired snickers between them.
The minute they enter the dim room, lit by the streetlights outside, Noah collapses on top of the maroon comforters and buries his head into the nearest pillow, which smells of the same vague combination of pine and honey that Alejandro does.
Alejandro softly laughs and exits the room, likely to get properly ready for bed. Noah didn't let him earlier, mainly because he'd been comfortably perched on top of him. Now he's alone in this giant bed, which he'd kill to have at his own house.
"Alone in this vast, empty bed," he mumbles forlornly. Then, louder: "This huge, empty bed that's so cold! I'm so cold and alone! If only I had a caring boyfriend within a reasonable distance…"
A minute passes before Alejandro reenters the room, which Noah only catches onto due to the creaking of the hinges. "Would you quit being such a nuisance? The neighbors don't want to hear about your 'uncaring, absent' boyfriend."
"Then maybe said boyfriend should come lay down," he argues, not even lifting his head up. The bed dips beside him as Alejandro settles in, then firm arms wrap around him and pull him closer.
"Does this count?" he mumbles into Noah's ear, then places another peck onto his cheek, breath reeking of mint. His lips are soft and warm, Noah dully notes.
"Nope. You took way too long."
He nestles himself farther into Alejandro's gentle grasp and rests his head against the crook of his neck, feeling the faint jump of Alejandro's pulse against his skin. The same hand from earlier tangles back into his hair, the other resting against the small of Noah's back.
"You're being so dramatic, mi amor."
"Hypocrisy does not suit you."
"Go to bed before I push you off of the bed."
Noah does not argue with that, because sleep does sound nice, and Alejandro's taken back to combing through his hair. He sighs, content, and finds that pleasant fuzziness has wrapped around his entire being.
"Sweet dreams, Noah. I love you."
"You, too," he mumbles back and smiles.