Archive of Our Own

It was supposed to be just another tutoring session or at least, that was what Sheet had been telling himself all morning.

Over the past few months, spending time with Euro had somehow become part of his routine. The arguments had become less frequent and tutoring sessions no longer felt like a battle of who could get on the other’s nerves first.

This time, however, things were different.

Since it was Sunday and the school was closed, Euro had proposed meeting at his house.

House.

That was the word he had used.

Standing in front of the enormous villa, Sheet couldn’t help thinking that calling this place a house was almost ridiculous, as houses, in his mind, weren’t supposed to have gates or fountains.

A quiet breath escaped him as he walked towards the entrance.

White walls stretched across what felt like half the neighbourhood, while enormous windows reflected the grey afternoon sky. The garden alone was probably bigger than the apartment Sheet shared with his mother.

He was still staring when the front door opened and there was Euro, standing completely at ease.

The breath caught in his throat all over again. Somehow the way Euro looked caught him off guard even more than the house itself. At school, he always looked annoyingly put together: his uniform was never wrinkled, his hair always styled, even after hours of PE he still carried that expensive look.

Today, however, he was wearing a faded black Deftones shirt and a pair of shorts. His hair was sticking up in several directions, as if he had run his hand through it at least fifty times before opening the door and Sheet hated how much he preferred this version.

"Are you planning on standing there all day?"

The question immediately snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Oh, shut up."

A small laugh escaped Euro as he stepped aside.

“I'm just worried. It looks like it's about to pour and I'd hate to explain to the school why my favourite tutor caught pneumonia on my watch.” He said, making Sheet realize the tiny droplets that had already begun landing on the glasses he had put on that morning.

As they were stepping inside, greeted by a massive portrait of who Sheet assumed were Euro's parents, he finally asked where they were.

"They're out." Euro had quickly replied and then immediately started walking away, without giving any explanation or opportunity for follow up questions, only making Sheet more curious.

Forty-five minutes later, they were sitting in the living room surrounded by textbooks, notebooks and enough math exercises to occupy the whole table. The room was absurd: floor to ceiling windows overlooked the garden, where rain now fell against the glass, a bookshelf occupied an entire wall, filled with books that looked expensive enough to make Sheet nervous about touching them. Even the chair beneath him was so soft that he had nearly fallen asleep during a particularly boring exercise.

Across from him, Euro was lazily spinning a pencil between his fingers while staring at the last problem Sheet had given him. A few seconds later, he scribbled something down and pushed the worksheet back across the table.

"Done."

Sheet glanced down. The answer was correct.

"You know, most people actually spend more than ten seconds thinking before writing something down."

Euro shrugged. "It looked easy."

"It was."

"Then what's the problem?"

The truth was, there wasn’t actually one, if not that Sheet had recently discovered he had been completely wrong about Euro. For months, he had assumed his grades were terrible simply because he was a dumbass, but it turned out that he wasn't really stupid. He simply lacked the motivation to apply himself to anything that didn't particularly interest him.

For a while, the only sounds in the room were the rain against the windows and the occasional scratching of a pencil against paper. Sheet tried to focus on the exercises spread across the table, but every time he looked up, Euro was somehow doing something irritating.

At one point he had spent almost five minutes spinning a pencil between his fingers instead of solving the question in front of him. At another, he had stared out of the window so long that Sheet had genuinely wondered whether he had forgotten they were supposed to be studying.

And yet, every time he wrote down an answer on the page, it was correct.

When he assigned him the next problem, he took his time to observe the other boy. He noticed the slight furrow between his brows whenever he was concentrating, the way he tapped the table with his fingers while thinking and the way his hair kept falling into his eyes only for him to push it back a few seconds later.

Across from him, completely unaware, Euro scribbled down another answer before sliding the paper across the table, pulling Sheet out of his thoughts.

He took a moment to notice how even his handwriting was annoyingly neat.

The guy couldn’t be bothered to remember any homework deadline, yet every number sat perfectly where it was supposed to, every line looked intentional, every calculation somehow easier to follow than half the notes Sheet received from the top students in class.

Outside, the rain seemed to have gotten heavier. Water streamed down the enormous windows, blurring the garden, while the room itself had grown darker as the afternoon light slowly disappeared behind thick storm clouds.

Sheet found himself glancing outside more often than usual. Maybe because there wasn't much else to look at or maybe because the weather somehow made the whole house feel even larger than it already was.

 Back at home, rainy afternoons usually came with noise. The television playing in the background, the neighbours arguing through the walls, someone dragging furniture across the floor above their apartment. Here, however, the storm felt distant. The rain continued to fall relentlessly, but it reached him only as a soft sound against the glass.

Actually, everything about the place felt strangely untouched.

The bookshelf occupying the entire wall looked more like decoration than something people actually used, the paintings hanging throughout the room probably costed more than everything inside his bedroom combined, even the coffee table between them seemed too expensive to place a textbook on but what felt weirder than anything else though was how empty it felt.

For a house this big, there should have been signs of other people everywhere, no? Instead, there was nothing.

His gaze drifted around the room once again before eventually landing on Euro, sitting completely at ease in a house that felt too large for a single person. He tried to imagine what an ordinary day looked like for the other boy. Whether he ate dinner alone or spent entire afternoons wandering through rooms that remained empty. Whether that was why he never seemed bothered by silence.

Sheet, on the other side, for as long as he could remember, his days had always been full.

It didn’t matter if it was for school, student council meetings, tutoring sessions, studying or work, every hour of his day seemed to belong to something or someone. There was always another assignment waiting to be completed, another responsibility demanding his attention, another thing he couldn't afford to postpone until tomorrow.

Sometimes it was exhausting, but that was simply how his life had always worked.

Looking at Euro, however, it was hard not to wonder what the opposite felt like, not because he thought the other boy had it easy but because looking at the house alone there was enough proof that their lives couldn't be more different.

The thought lingered in the back of his mind until the sound of a chair against the floor pulled him back to reality.

When he looked up again, Euro had already stood up.

"I need a break."

"You've only done three exercises."

"Yes, three exercises correctly."

"That does-"

"Shh."

Euro stretched his arms above his head before running a hand through his already messy hair. Sheet thought he was about to say something else, but instead, he simply walked out of the room without another word.

He told himself he was finally going to enjoy a few minutes without having to listen to Euro complain about studying. He reached for another worksheet and lowered his gaze to the page, only to realize a couple of minutes later that he had been reading the same line over and over without actually taking in a single word.

By the third minute, he found himself wondering what was taking Euro so long.

By the fourth, he had started tapping the tip of his pen against the table.

By the fifth, he had already stood up and made his way out of the living room.

The kitchen wasn't difficult to find. Everything looked connected by impossibly wide hallways and enormous windows that overlooked the garden from almost every angle. The rain had only gotten heavier, leaving thin streams of water running down the glass.

He found Euro exactly how he expected not to. He was leaning against the kitchen island with a mug resting loosely between both hands, he wasn't looking at his phone or wandering around the room in search of another distraction, instead he was simply standing there, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the windows and there was something strangely unfamiliar about seeing him like that.

At school, Euro was always moving. If he wasn't talking, he was interrupting someone else. If he wasn't making some unnecessary comment, he was laughing, teasing somebody or finding increasingly creative ways to avoid paying attention during class. He filled every silence before anyone else even had the chance to notice it.

Here, however, he was just quietly watching the rain disappear somewhere beyond the windows, turning the mug between his hands every now and then. It struck Sheet as oddly domestic, almost impossible to associate with the same person who somehow managed to make his life a living hell just a few months ago.

He wondered how often this happened, how many rainy afternoons Euro had spent exactly like this, standing in the middle of a kitchen far too large for one person, with nothing but the sound of rain keeping him company.

It wasn't until the floor creaked softly beneath his weight that Euro finally noticed he wasn't alone. He turned his head just enough to glance over his shoulder, his expression remaining still before the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

"You got lost?"

“I could ask you the same thing.”

For a couple of seconds, neither of them said anything. Euro simply turned his attention back to the rain as if the conversation had naturally come to an end, while Sheet remained standing a few steps behind him, suddenly unsure why he had walked into the kitchen in the first place.

The silence wasn't awkward.

If anything, it felt surprisingly easy.

It gave Sheet the chance to notice little things he normally would've missed. The mug resting between Euro's hands had long gone untouched, yet he kept turning it every now and then. A few strands of his hair had started falling over his forehead again and despite the oversized windows flooding the room with what little daylight was left, the kitchen somehow felt warmer than the rest of the house.

"I think we're stuck here for a while." Euro spoke again after a while when a thunder echoed outside, before finally taking a small sip from his drink.

Sheet followed his gaze towards the windows. The rain had become so heavy that the road leading out of the property was almost impossible to see now.

"I didn't think it would rain this much."

"It wasn't supposed to."

Sheet reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone and opened the weather app.

"Code Orange for thunderstorms applies this evening and overnight." Sheet read aloud.

"It'll probably get worse later." He continued, letting out a quiet sigh and slipping his phone back into his pocket.

"My mom's probably already worried"

"You should call her."

Sheet nodded slightly, his attention still fixed on the rain outside.

It was only after a while that Euro spoke again.

"You could stay here."

Sheet turned to look at him.

"What?"

"The night." He clarified finally meeting his eyes. "I mean."

The corners of Sheet's mouth twitched before he could stop them.

“Oh.” That was the only sound that came out of his mouth.

"You'd have your own room."

"But I don't want to be in the way."

"You won't."

"It's your house." Sheet hesitated.

"And? Do you think I would have asked you if it was a problem?”

“I don’t know.”

“It was just…unexpected?” Sheet continued, almost unsure of what he was saying.

Sheet unlocked his phone once more, stepping a little further away from the room before calling his mother. The conversation lasted barely two minutes. She asked if he had eaten, reminded him not to catch a cold and after hearing another thunder through the phone, insisted he stayed where he was instead of trying to make his way home.

"Text me when you wake up tomorrow." She said before hanging up.

"I will."

When Sheet made his way back to the kitchen, Euro hadn't moved from the window.

"My mom said I should stay too."

Euro simply nodded.

 "We should probably keep studying."

Sheet looked at him, almost surprised by the suggestion.

"I thought you wanted a break."

"I've had one."

He placed the empty mug into the sink before disappearing through the doorway once again, only to return a couple of minutes later carrying the English textbook along with the notebooks they had left in the living room.

English had always been Sheet's favourite subject. Reading came naturally to him, grammar even more so, and before he realized it, nearly forty minutes had slipped by. Surprisingly, even Euro seemed to mind it far less than maths.

The kitchen island turned out to be far too wide for them to sit across from each other this time. Every time Sheet pointed at a sentence or corrected a mistake, Euro had to lean halfway across the countertop just to see what he was talking about. So, after only a few minutes, they both silently gave up and moved their chairs to the same side instead.

Now, however, their chairs had ended up closer than they had been before, leaving them sitting almost shoulder to shoulder.

For the next five minutes, they kept getting in each other's way and the fact that Euro was left handed while Sheet wasn’t didn’t help at all. Every time Sheet leaned in to underline a sentence, Euro's hand was already there. Every time Euro reached for a pen, Sheet's arm happened to cross his path. And every time they touched a quiet “sorry” was mumbled, followed by their chairs shifting by a few inches and their hands pulling away at the last second possible.

Sheet only realized how close they had ended up sitting when they both reached for the dictionary at the exact same moment and their fingers brushed just for a second. Euro was the first to react, simply by sliding the dictionary towards him, while the other boy quietly lowered his eyes to the page, trying to pretend nothing had happened.

Eventually, Euro leaned back in his chair and looked at the completed worksheet in front of them.

"We're done, right?"

Sheet glanced at him, then at the clock.

"For today, yes."

Euro's mouth curved slightly, tired but satisfied.

"That's for the better. I'd hate to overtake you."

Sheet let out a small laugh. "You're welcome to try."

Euro rolled his eyes, though the corner of his mouth betrayed him almost immediately.

"I'll remember you said that."

"You do that."

 They quietly started gathering everything they had used. Sheet slipped the English textbook back into his backpack while Euro carried the rest of the books towards the living room, dropping them onto the coffee table.

When he returned a moment later, he stretched his arms above his head before glancing towards the kitchen.

"So..."

Sheet looked up.

"I'm hungry."

Without even waiting for a reply, Euro started making his way towards the kitchen, followed a couple of steps behind by the younger boy, who watched as he opened the refrigerator with the confidence of someone who clearly expected to find dinner waiting for him.

The inside was almost empty.

A carton of milk sat on the top shelf beside a couple of bottles of water. There were a few eggs, half a lemon wrapped in plastic and three cans of Coke. That was all.

Euro frowned.

“I was sure there was more.”

He closed the refrigerator before opening one cupboard after another with growing determination, as though the food would magically appear.

Meanwhile Sheet leaned against the counter, folding his arms as he silently watched the other boy, until the fourth cupboard finally offered something.

Rows of identical pink packets stared back at them.

Buldak.

Euro looked at them for a second before reaching for one.

“Well..."

“Don’t tell me that’s your plan.”

“I think it’s a very good plan."

Euro turned the packet over in his hands, studying it with much more concentration than necessary.

“The housekeeper wasn’t supposed to have the weekend off.”

The explanation came so casually that it took Sheet a second to process it.

“So, I guess that's our only option." He said lifting one of the packets.

Sheet looked at the bright packaging before meeting his eyes again.

"Tell me you can cook them at least."

Euro frowned.

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m not eating undercooked noodles because you couldn’t be bothered reading the instructions.”

“I can cook."

“Fine.” Sheet replied with a slight raise of his eyebrow.

Despite that, the corner of Euro’s mouth lifted into the smallest smile before grabbing two packets from the cupboard and placing them on the counter.

He then slid one across to Sheet.

“You read.”

Sheet glanced down at the packet before flipping it over.

The kitchen soon filled with the quiet sounds of water running, cupboards opening and closing and the occasional sound of utensils against the countertop. Neither of them felt the need to speak constantly. Every now and then Sheet would ask where something was, the other would point without looking up and the conversation would die there.

Once the noodles were finally cooked, Sheet reached for the small red packet and just when he was about to pour it in the pan, Euro started talking.

“You're using all of it?”

Sheet looked up immediately.

“Am I supposed not to?”

“That’s the spicy sauce.”

“I know?" Sheet said, staring at him for a second before letting out a quiet laugh.

“I thought you liked these.”

“I do." Euro replied. “I’d just like to survive long enough to finish dinner.”

Sheet let out a quiet scoff before squeezing only about half of the sauce into the pan.

“There. Happy?”

“Very much.”

Once everything had been mixed together, Sheet divided the noodles between the two bowls before carrying them over to the kitchen island.

The rain continued falling against the windows while the room filled with the occasional sound of chopsticks against the ceramic bowls.

By the time the last few noodles had disappeared from their bowls, Euro had lost count of how many times the spice had caught him off guard, each quiet complaint earning a small smile from Sheet.

“I’ll wash these."

“But you already cooked.”

“And you read the instructions.”

Euro hesitated, then he reached out and took one of the bowls from Sheet's hands.

“Fine.”

They moved to the sink without another word, with Sheet washing the dishes while Euro dried them.

When they were done, the kitchen looked exactly as they had found it.

Euro glanced at it one last time before making his way back to the living room, while Sheet followed him a few steps behind, still drying his hands on a towel he had picked up from the counter.

The house had grown noticeably darker since the time they had studied there.

Without really thinking about it, Euro dropped on the sofa and reached for the remote resting on the coffee table.

“So, what now?” Sheet asked, remaining standing for another second.

“I don’t know.” Euro shrugged, already opening Netflix.

He wasn’t really looking for anything in particular. His thumb moved lazily across the rows of movies and shows, stopping every now and then before moving on again.

Sheet eventually sat down on the opposite side of the sofa, his eyes focused on the television out of curiosity, until a familiar red and blue suit appeared on the screen.

Spider-Man: No Way Home.

It was the small white line underneath it that caught his attention more than anything else.

'Continue Watching.'

Sheet looked away from the screen and towards Euro.

“You never finished it?”

Euro glanced up for a second before following his gaze back to the television.

“I did.”

“Then why is it still there?”

“I started it again. I've actually watched it more than once."

That caught Sheet slightly off guard.

“I’ve probably watched it twenty times.”

This time it was Euro who turned to look at him.

“Seriously?”

Sheet nodded.

“It's my comfort movie.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, until Euro looked back at the television.

“I guess we’re watching Spider-Man then.”

About half an hour later, the discussion had shifted from the actual plot of the movie to a much more important matter.

“I’m telling you, Andrew was the best Spider-Man.”

“No." Sheet replied without taking his eyes off the screen. “He was the best Spider-Man, but Tom is the best Peter Parker.”

“They’re the same person.”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“Maybe.” Euro replied. “But you’re still wrong.”

Sheet rolled his eyes before turning back to the screen.

The film carried on, filling the room with familiar lines and scenes both of them knew by heart.

When Andrew Garfield first appeared through the portal, Euro couldn’t help smiling.

“Here he is, the best Spider-Man.”

“Oh my God, shut up” Sheet replied, looking at him before shaking his head with a quiet laugh.

The movie kept going, but Sheet couldn’t help noticing how the living room had grown colder now that the sun had disappeared completely. Without thinking, he rubbed his hands together before pulling the sleeves of his hoodie over them.

A moment later, Euro got to his feet.

“Where are you going?”

“Wait, I’ll be right back.”

Less than two minutes later, Euro was standing beside the sofa holding out a folded grey blanket.

“You didn’t have to.”

Euro unfolded it with one hand.

“It’s freezing in here.”

The blanket was much larger than Sheet had expected, covering almost the entire sofa once they spread it over their legs.

They stayed like that for another half an hour.

 At one point, Sheet had shifted under the blanket looking for a more comfortable position and his knee had ended up resting against Euro’s, but they both didn’t really mind it.

Only a few months ago, Sheet would’ve pulled away without even thinking about it. It would’ve pissed him off so much that he would’ve got back home and replayed that moment with nothing but irritation on his mind. But now as they were both lying next to each other, his heart couldn’t help but skip a beat as the other boy felt closer than ever.

It was during what Sheet had decided was the best part of the movie (when Andrew Garfield's Spider-Man saves MJ, if you were wondering) that they both leaned forward at the exact same time and their shoulders brushed.

This time, however, neither of them seemed to notice.

After a while, when the movie eventually came to an end, they both stayed in silence for a few seconds, until Euro turned his head and Sheet did the same.

They had ended up much closer than either of them had planned. Close enough for Sheet to notice the way Euro's eyes reflected the light from the television and to catch the faint scent of his shampoo. Looking at him from this close, Euro didn't seem as untouchable as he always had at school. It was as if, for the first time, Sheet was looking at the person behind everything else.

Euro was the first to look away.

"We should probably shower and get ready for bed."

Sheet could only let out a quiet hum.

"Yeah."

"I'll show you where the guest bathroom is."

Euro turned off the television before standing up.

Sheet followed him upstairs, looking around as they walked past room after room until Euro stopped in front of a white door.

"You can use this one. I'll find you something to wear for the night. Give me a minute."

While waiting for Euro to come back, Sheet took his time looking around.

It was only the guest bathroom, yet it was still bigger than the only bathroom he had at home. The walls were white with dark green and gold details, a large bathtub occupied the far end of the room and hanging from the ceiling was an elegant crystal chandelier. The whole room looked as nobody had ever used it.

Euro came back after a while carrying a light blue T-shirt and a pair of grey shorts.

"They'll probably be a little big, but these are the smallest ones I could find."

That was the first thing he said as he leaned against the doorframe with the faintest smirk.

"You know, over the past few years I've actually grown... unlike someone else."

“You’re unsufferable. Get out.”

Euro let out a quiet laugh before replying.

“Alright, alright.” He took a couple of steps backwards before looking at him one last time.

“When you’re done, come find me.”

Then he walked away, leaving the door closed behind him.

The T-shirt hung lower on him than he had expected, the sleeves reaching almost to his elbows. He tugged lightly at the fabric before opening the bathroom door and stepping back into the hallway.

He wasn't entirely sure where to go, as every door looked exactly the same beneath the warm light, so he just started wandering around until he heard it.

Music. Playing softly enough that he almost thought he had imagined it at first.

He followed it without really thinking, taking one step after another until the melody became clearer.

‘I try to laugh about it, cover it all up with lies.’

It was a song he had heard before, though he couldn't remember its title.

He kept letting the music lead him until he noticed that the door at the end of the hallway was slightly open.

Sheet stopped outside for a second.

"Euro?" he called.

No answer came.

With the song still playing, he pushed the door open just enough to slip inside.

There was no sign of Euro, except for the steam escaping from beneath the closed bathroom door across the room. So, Sheet let his eyes wander.

The first thing that caught his attention wasn't how large the room was, but how, compared to the rest of the house, this one actually felt lived in.

The warm light coming from a lamp beside the bed softened everything around it, turning the dark wooden floor almost golden. The walls were a faded grey, interrupted here and there by framed photographs instead of expensive paintings.

Near the window, which overlooked the garden, a record player was playing a black vinyl, while its sleeve rested beside it, displaying the words 'The Cure. Greatest Hits'.

Beside it, leaning against one another, were other records. The Black Parade. The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. Hatful of Hollow.

Sheet found himself smiling before his attention drifted towards the desk.

Unlike the rest of the house, it looked like nobody had tried to keep this room looking perfect.

A pair of headphones rested over one corner of the monitor. A notebook had been left open beside the keyboard, a pen tucked carelessly between its pages. A camera sat next to it, the strap hanging over the edge of the desk as though it had been put down only a few hours earlier.

Sheet picked it up carefully and noticed how the edges showed small signs of wear and one corner carried a tiny scratch, before turning it over in his hands and setting it back exactly where he had found it.

Above the desk, photographs were pinned to a cork board, but only two of them showed people.

One had clearly been taken at school. Euro stood in the middle with Pete and Nick crowded around him, all laughing at something outside the frame, none of them looking at the camera.

As his eyes moved from one photograph to the next, Sheet noticed how the rest were all different.

An empty road still wet after the rain.

The sea just before sunset.

A train disappearing into the distance.

A quiet street with dozens of orange streetlights.

Sheet looked at them longer than he meant to. Eventually his gaze wandered across the room once more.

A guitar rested against the wall beside a small amplifier. A hoodie lay on top of the neatly made bed. On the floor beside it was a small stack of developed camera rolls.

‘I would tell you that I loved you, if I thought that you would stay’

The song carried softly through the room.

Sheet's gaze lingered on the camera rolls for another second before slowly drifting back across the room.

It was strange. There was nothing in the room that surprised him on its own.

Everyone listened to music, plenty of people he knew played guitar and taking photographs wasn't exactly unusual. Yet somehow, seeing all of those things belonging to the same person he'd spent the past few months arguing with felt almost impossible.

At school, Euro never seemed to stay interested in anything for longer than five minutes. He got bored halfway through lessons, forgot homework, complained about studying before they had even opened the textbook.

Standing there now, surrounded by pieces of him that had never made it outside those four walls, Sheet found himself wondering whether the version of Euro everyone knew at school was even close to the one he was discovering now.

Before he had the chance to focus on that thought any longer, the click of the bathroom door opening behind him made him turn around.

Euro stood in the doorway, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

Sheet looked back at him.

He had seen Euro almost every day for months, in classrooms, in crowded hallways, sitting at the desk across from him during tutoring.

Yet standing there, in the middle of his own room, wearing nothing more than an oversized white T-shirt, grey sweatpants and an old towel draped around his neck, Sheet looked at him with totally different eyes for the first time.

His hair was still wet, a few strands falling carelessly across his forehead, while tiny drops of water disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt and Sheet couldn’t stop himself from following them with his eyes.

When he looked back up, Euro was still standing there, looking at him. This time, however, there wasn't a single trace of the teasing smile Sheet had expected. There was only curiosity, as if he were trying to understand why Sheet had gone completely silent the moment he had walked into the room.

‘Hiding the tears in my eyes, cause boys don’t cry.’

The last lyrics of the song echoed softly through the room as Euro finally stepped inside.

He pulled the towel from around his neck and tossed it onto the chair by his desk before making his way over to the record player.

For a moment, Sheet thought he was going to stop the music and let the room fall silent. Instead, Euro only turned the volume down, just enough for the music to fade into the background.

He then crossed the room before sitting in the middle of the bed, his back resting against the headboard and one knee drawn up while the other leg stretched out across the mattress.

"You can sit down, you know." He said, talking for the first time since he had appeared from the bathroom, making Sheet realize he was still standing exactly where Euro had found him.

"Oh, right."

He looked around the room before settling on the edge of the bed, leaving enough space between them.

The record kept spinning, a new song replacing the previous one, its rhythm a little faster than before.

‘And I won′t say it, if you won't say it first.’

"I didn't know you liked The Cure."

The words slipped out before Sheet had the chance to think about them.

Euro glanced towards the record player.

"I've been listening to them since I was a kid."

“You don’t really seem the type.”

“And what type do I look like?”

Sheet thought about it for a moment.

“I don’t know… someone who doesn’t listen to music at all.”

"I don't exactly go around telling people what I listen to."

Sheet’s gaze then moved towards the guitar.

"And the guitar?"

"I've been playing for a few years."

"The camera too?"

Euro nodded.

"I’ve always liked taking pictures."

"You hide it well."

Euro frowned slightly.

"What?"

"All of this."

Sheet gestured vaguely around the room, almost hesitating.

"I guess it just never came up." Euro replied, looking around his room as if he was seeing it through someone else's eyes.

"I guess not."

The conversation faded there. Sheet's gaze drifted back to Euro without really meaning to.

He noticed the way his hands looked almost too big resting against the pillow beside him, the way his wet hair fell on his forehead and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

"So..."

Sheet blinked.

"Hm?"

"You've been staring at me for the past minute."

Sheet didn’t answer right away.

He wasn’t embarrassed because he’d been caught, but mostly because Euro was right.

“I guess I have.”

The reply came out quietly, earning another look from Euro.

“I didn’t know I was that interesting.” He replied in that familiar teasing tone, the same one that had been haunting Sheet’s days for months. The same one that normally would’ve made him roll his eyes, mutter something under his breath and look away.

This time, though, he stayed exactly where he was.

“Why? Do you mind?”

Euro blinked.

“What?”

“You asked why I was looking at you.”

Sheet held his gaze.

“So… does it bother you?”

For the first time since Sheet had known him, Euro looked like he didn’t have an answer ready.

“I…”

He stopped.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

Euro let out a quiet breath, his eyes never leaving Sheet’s.

“You’re acting different. What happened? Did you finally fall for my charm? You wouldn’t be the first.”

The familiar teasing tone was still there, though it didn’t sound quite as confident as it usually did.

Unlike what he expected, this time Sheet didn’t avoid the tease or look away.

He did something he had never done before.

He teased him back, with a confidence Euro had never seen from him before.

“So that’s what you tell everyone? You know, I remember when Toey came asking to take a picture of you for the school’s account and you immediately thought she was into you.” Euro’s eyebrows lifted.

"When people look at you for more than five seconds, you just assume they like you?”

A laugh escaped him.

“Well…” The corner of Euro’s mouth lifted. “I’m right most of the time.”

“You sound pretty confident.”

“Because I am.”

“Hm.”

The hum was barely audible, as if Sheet was really thinking about it.

Euro waited for him to say something else.

But what Sheet did instead was start moving, the mattress dipping softly beneath his weight.

It wasn’t enough to close the distance between them, but it was enough for Euro to notice. His eyes followed the movement before returning to Sheet’s face.

He parted his lips as though he were about to say something, only to close them again a second later.

“You’ve gone awfully quiet for someone who seemed so confident a minute ago.” Sheet said, never breaking eye contact.

Euro’s smile returned almost immediately.

“I was just giving you your moment.”

“My moment?”

“Yeah.”

"You looked so proud of yourself I didn't want to interrupt."

Sheet's lips curved slightly.

"Oh, silly of me to think you were actually busy trying to think of an answer."

Euro let out a laugh.

"So you really think I'm into you?"

Euro shrugged.

“I haven’t changed my mind.”

Another small pause.

“Confident.”

“I told you.”

Sheet held his gaze for another second.

“I think you’re just hoping you’re right.”

"How cute of you to think that."

Sheet tilted his head slightly.

"Cute?"

"Mhm."

"You think I'm cute?"

"I don't remember saying that."

"You did."

"I said that was cute."

Without taking his eyes off Euro, Sheet shifted forward again.

One hand came to rest on the mattress to steady himself as he closed another few inches between them. It wasn’t enough to invade Euro’s space, but it was enough that their voices no longer needed to rise above the music.

“So you didn’t mean me?”

"I’m saying you like twisting my words.”

“That’s not a no.”

For a long moment, neither of them seemed to notice anything but each other.

Sheet found himself shifting forward once more, closing another small gap between them.

Euro, on the other hand, didn’t move. His eyes remained fixed on Sheet’s, following every movement almost as if he were hypnotized.

Somewhere in the back of Sheet’s mind, he realized just how close they had ended up, but that didn’t stop him.

He kept holding Euro's gaze.

From that distance, he could notice every little change in his expression. The teasing smile that had refused to leave Euro’s face only moments before had faded almost completely. His lips were parted slightly, his eyes still fixed on Sheet’s.

Then, almost imperceptibly, they flickered downward, making Sheet hold his breath for a moment.

Euro’s gaze had fallen to his lips.

It lasted no more than a second before it returned to his eyes, but it was enough to make Sheet move even closer.

His free hand pressed against the mattress for balance as he closed the last bit of distance between them.

One knee came to rest beside Euro’s hip, then the other.

It wasn’t until he settled his weight that he realized the position they’d ended up in.

He was straddling Euro’s lap.

The room had fallen quiet again, even the song had changed leaving the silent fill the space between them. Until the opening notes of Just Like Heaven started playing softly.

Sheet could feel Euro’s breath from where they were, he could feel the warmth of his body through the thin layers of fabric, but he didn’t move.

He simply looked back at him, with an expression that had become impossible to read. There wasn’t any trace left of his usual teasing smile.

Sheet’s fingers slowly closed around the collar of Euro’s T-shirt, just enough to keep his hand from trembling.

He analysed Euro’s face, giving him every chance to pull away, before leaning in and kissing him.

There was nothing rushed about it.

If anything, the kiss was careful, almost as though Sheet himself couldn’t quite believe what he was doing.

Euro, on the other hand, simply stayed where he was, almost like he needed a second to understand that it had actually happened.

When Sheet eventually pulled back, they remained impossibly close, looking into each other's eyes for the smallest trace of regret.

Euro drew in a slow breath.

His gaze dropped to Sheet’s lips once more before returning to his eyes and another breath escaped him.

Then, without saying a word, he leaned in once more before Sheet had the chance to say anything.

The second kiss erased whatever distance had remained between them.

Euro's hand stayed buried in Sheet’s hair, fingers brushing gently through the soft strands, while the other hand rested against his waist drawing him closer until there was no space left between them.

Sheet melted into the kiss almost immediately.

Whatever confidence had carried him through those first few seconds seemed to disappear the moment Euro took over. He answered each kiss instinctively, his fingers tightening around Euro’s shirt, unwilling to give him even the slightest chance to pull away.

Every time they paused to catch their breath, their foreheads remained close enough to touch, only for one of them to close the distance again a second later.

The music continued playing, accompanied only by their uneven breathing and the occasional nervous laugh that escaped whenever they accidentally bumped noses before finding each other again.

Euro smiled against Sheet’s lips.

“You keep smiling.”

“So do you.”

“I do not.”

To prove his point, Euro stole another quick kiss before Sheet could argue.

Then another.

And another.

Each one earned him another little huff of protest from Sheet, though none of them sounded particularly convincing.

“This isn’t fair.” Sheet murmured.

“Well, you started it.”

Heat rushed to Sheet’s face. He opened his mouth to come up with a reply, but Euro simply looked at him for a moment, his expression softening before he leaned in again. This time with no urgency at all.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours.

At one point, Sheet wasn’t even sure who kept leaning in anymore. Sometimes it was him, sometimes it was Euro.

Eventually, they both pulled away, more out of necessity than because either of them wanted to.

Sheet was the first one to speak.

“I think…”

Euro watched him with an amused smile.

“What?”

Sheet glanced towards the bedroom door.

“I should probably-"

Euro followed his gaze before looking back at him.

“I mean…”

Sheet gestured vaguely towards the hallway.

“Go to the guest room, I guess.”

Euro simply stared at him before letting out a laugh.

“Really?”

Sheet frowned.

“What?”

“We’ve just spent the last half hour making out, and your plan now is to go sleep in the guest room?”

Heat immediately rushed back to Sheet’s face.

“I just thought-"

Euro’s smile softened.

“I’d rather you stay here.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

The grin that spread across Euro’s face was impossible to miss.

“Good.”

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself.”

“I can’t help it.”

Before Sheet had the chance to complain again, Euro leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

About ten minutes later, they were still lying on the bed, talking about whatever came to their mind. Until Sheet’s eyes wandered back to the guitar resting against the wall.

“So… you said you could play that.” He began.

Euro turned his head to look at him.

“Is it true or were you just trying to look cool?”

Euro let out an offended gasp, taking his hand to his heart as if Sheet’s words had deeply hurt him.

“Excuse me? That’s so offensive.”

“I think it’s a fair question. Rich people always buy things just because they can.”

“You’ve got about five seconds to take that back.”

“What if I don’t?”

“You’re gonna regret it.”

Before Sheet had the chance to react, one of Euro’s hands found his side, immediately starting to tickle him without mercy.

A burst of laughter escaped Sheet, echoing throughout the room as he instinctively tried to move away.

“Take it back.”

Sheet muffled a “no”, making Euro only became even more relentless.

Still laughing, Sheet tried to push him away, twisting beneath him in a desperate attempt to escape, but it only made things worse.

“You absolute-”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Before he could finish the sentence, Euro caught both of his wrists.

The movement happened so quickly that Sheet barely had time to react before he found himself pinned against the mattress, Euro hovering above him, still holding both of his wrists.

“I hate you.” Sheet muttered between uneven breaths, still trying to free his hands.

Without loosening his grip, Euro leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against Sheet’s lips.

“No, you don’t.”

The smile never left his face, even when he finally climbed off the bed.

“Come on.”

He nodded towards the guitar resting against the wall, before walking over and lifting it from its stand.

“I’ve got something to prove.”

He sat back down on the bed, this time crossing his legs as he rested the guitar comfortably across his lap, while Sheet mirrored him without really thinking about it,

Euro adjusted one of the tuning pegs before lightly brushing his fingers across the strings. A soft chord filled the room.

“So…” he said, glancing up at Sheet.

“What do you want to hear?”

“Whatever you want.”

He tested the strings one last time before taking a slow breath.

“Okay, I haven’t played this one in a while.”

His fingers found the first chord, blending softly with the sound of rain outside.

“I would rather not go

Back to the old house”

Sheet looked up almost immediately. He had expected Euro to play, not to sing too.

His voice was softer than he had expected, warm and blending effortlessly with the melody.

“When you cycled by, here began all my dreams”

Euro’s fingers moved so effortlessly across the strings, long and practiced, the veins standing out beneath the skin of his hands every time he shifted to another chord.

A few strands of his hair, now almost dry, still clung to his forehead, falling into his eyes often enough that he had to tilt his head back every now and then without ever interrupting the song.

Even the movement of his throat caught Sheet's attention, the subtle rise and fall of his Adam's apple with each line he sang.

Sheet couldn't stop looking at him.

He wasn't even sure whether it was the way the warm light lit the side of his face, how comfortable he looked with the guitar resting on his lap or how his eyes instinctively closed during certain lines.

Whatever it was, Sheet knew one thing for sure.

He'd never seen anyone look quite this beautiful before.

“I would love to go

Back to the old house

But I never will”

The last chord lingered in the room before slowly fading away.

Euro looked down at the guitar, brushing his thumb over one of the strings before finally speaking.

"So?"

Sheet smiled.

"I hate to admit this, but you are really good."

“See? Never doubt me again or you’ll regret it."

“Oh no, I’m so scared.”  

“You should be.”

Euro carefully placed the guitar back where he'd found it, then continued.

“We should sleep now, it’s almost midnight.”

 Sheet nodded and Euro switched off the small lamp beside his bed.

They slipped beneath the blankets, Sheet leaving what he hoped looked like a reasonable amount of space between them, but it lasted only three seconds.

"You can come closer."

Euro's voice was barely louder than the rain.

"I'm not going to bite."

Sheet turned his head just enough to glare at him through the darkness.

"I've never shared my bed with anyone before."

The mattress shifted.

"Me neither."

A second later, their shoulders brushed.

Sheet laughed under his breath before finally giving in, closing the small distance between them. Almost immediately, he felt an arm settle carefully around his waist.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, nerd.”

Just as Sheet closed his eyes, he felt the lightest kiss against his forehead.

"You really like doing that, don't you?"

"I do."

"Oh, shut up."