Page 69 of Septembers

Dae clicked his tongue like he’d raised him better than that. “It’s fine. It’s not cold.”

“You’re not the one sleeping on the couch, Dae. Obviously. Take the bed.”

The thought seemed to shake the foundations of his personhood. “I’m not taking your bed.”

“You’re the guest. My mom would hang my skin on the wall if I let a guest sleep on the couch.”

“I’m not a guest; I’m your best friend.”

“Then we’ll both sleep here.” He hadn’t thought the idea through before it was out of his mouth, but there was no reasonably sane way to take it back. Theo thought Dae would fight him on it, but to his crackling shock, he nodded.

“Okay.” His light tone didn’t match his rigid posture.

“Um. Okay. Here.” Theo handed him the shorts and soft blue t-shirt, which Dae held up, his head cocked to the side.

“This is mine.”

“Statute of limitations on t-shirt theft is one year.”

Dae shook his head, his lips threatening a smirk on his way to the bathroom. “It was one of my favourites.”

Theo changed into his own t-shirt and boxers, then puttered around the room tidying as the sound of the shower nearly short-circuited his brain. Don’t think about him naked, don’t think about where his hands might be on his body or the water running over his⁠—

The door opened with a swirl of steam and Dae stepped out with his damp hair still dripping on the shoulders of his (Theo’s) t-shirt.

“You have impressive, um…” He cleared his throat, pushing his floppy hair off his forehead. “I mean, the water pressure is…” He gave up on words and crossed the room, slipping under the covers quickly, as if afraid Theo would change his mind.

Or that he would.

Theo took a towel from his closet and got into bed, draping it over Dae’s head and gently shaking his hair dry. It was a strange thrill to smell his own shampoo and soap on him, but he internally shut that shit down quickly. Once he was satisfied his hair was dry enough to sleep comfortably, he tossed the towel onto a chair, and they both snuggled onto their respective pillows.

Theo turned on his side, his arm tucked under his head, because it was a comfortable way to sleep, not so he could bask in Dae’s profile. “Are you happy in Korea?”

Dae stared up at the ceiling. “It’s beautiful there. The people are kind. The job is great. The food is amazing. I think I’m…” He bit his lip, thinking. “I’m happy-adjacent. An almost kind of happy.”

“Is that enough?”

He let out a long breath. “Probably not.”

He deserved all the happy. All of it. “Are you…”

Dae fought his drifting eyes and turned his head. Fuck, he was so beautiful. “Am I what?”

Theo was going to ask if he would ever come home, but fear of the answer kept the question stuck in his throat. “Goodnight.”

Dae fought it for a few more moments, holding his gaze through the slits in his eyelids, and then he was out.

༻𓆪 𓆩༺

Warm. That was the only thing Theo’s groggy brain could register when he slipped past the threshold of sleep into waking. Warm and comfortable.

But then he felt the hand on his hip and the soft breath through his shirt, and the fuzz of sleep exploded off his consciousness.

Dae’s hand. His breath. His body close under the blankets, his head off his pillow and tucked into Theo’s chest like he’d needed comfort in the night.

Maybe if Dae woke up at that exact moment, he’d be able to feel how hard Theo was, but Theo didn’t care; the sight of him snuggled close, his deep breath, soft face, and messy hair were worth the risk.

Or at least, he thought they were until Dae sucked in a hitching breath, blinking awake, and Theo nearly pulled a muscle backwards-summersaulting off the bed and into the bathroom with a strangled, “G’morning!”