27

"we kissed. Twice," Winston tells Gary on the way home, eyes distant as he gazes out the window to the bus. Twenty minutes later, while they're walking on the streetside (?), he says, "Jason kissed me," and another ten minutes after that, when they're entering Gary's apartment building, Winston says, "I kissed Jason."

"I know," Gary says for the fiftieth time. He does Winston the favor of not pointing out that he was there for all of it, literally hanging onto Winston's arm the entire time.

Winston walks into the apartment and pulls off his jacket, mumbling, "We kissed," like the broken record player he probably secretly was. The things science could do these days; he must surely be a top-secret, state of the art experiment. Technology at it's finest.

Broken.

The lights inside the apartment are already on, music drifting from the kitchen, and the air is filled with the scent of something delicious. Winston can't quite place what it is, but he drags in a slow breath through his nose and his shoulders relaxes. He follows Gary through, tossing his jacket onto the coat hanger and dragging his feet through the hallway.

Liam and his mom are sitting at the kitchen table, Liam's face serious and and eyes narrowed as he bites the end of a pencil. He doesn't even look up at them, just continues to chew while Gary's mom quietly explains something to him, pointing at something in a book.

Gary's mom is the only one who looks up at them as they enter, waving discreetly at them as they trawl through the cabinets for something to eat, the kitchen lacking a proper pantry. Instead, all the food is split between different drawers and shelves, top to bottom.

Winston grabs the store bought muffin Gary hands him, and they wave to Gary's mom as they sneak back out, trying not to antagonize the little devil cleverly disguised as a human teenager.

So devious.

They settle onto their usual places on Gary's bed, Winston scooting around until the pillow is comfortable against the headboard and he's sitting with his legs crossed, carefully placing the muffin on the bed. Keeps an extra careful eye on it to ensure it doesn't fall while Gary sets up the laptop.

"Witching Hour?" Gary asks as he pulls open a streaming site, getting into their profile with ease. They have a shared profile that they use for things they're watching together, so the progress bar isn't ruined if they watch it on their own.

"Sounds good," Winston agrees, and Gary tosses him a distracted smile as he finishes setting it up.

Gary sits beside him on the bed, the mattress just wide enough that they could sit side by side against the headboard. It helped, that one side of the bed was up against the wall; it means Winston has something to lean on when Gary practically lies on top of him. The only light in the room is what's coming from the laptop on it's little stand, the desk's legs securely standing on the bed.

Winston curls his arm around Gary's shoulder as they cuddle up, sinking into each other more and more the more time passes, until it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.

After a while, Gary yawns into Winston's chest; he's lying on him and watching the screen with one eye, the other hidden in Winston's shirt. Winston looks down at him sometimes, content to watch the sleepy drag of Gary's breaths, the gentle puffs of air leaving his slack lips.

Winston closes his eyes after a while---lets the gentle wash of noise wash over him (?), sinking into the pillow and letting his heard rest against the wall, the sleep overcoming him a slow and glacial thing.

When he opens his eyes again, vision bleary and eyelids crusty, a yawn on his lips and an itch in his nose, the laptop has entered rest mode, the room pitch black.

He yawns.

Gary mutters something into his chest. After about 2 minutes of careful thought, Winston finally realizes that he wants to know the time. "It's just after six in the evening," he murmurs into the dark, voice stark in the room, shattering the silence with a thoughtless disregard for reality.

Gary groans. He sticks his foot out, tapping on the bed, and groans, "The computer?"

"Off," Winston says, lifting his head off the wall and grimacing at the pain in his neck. He turns his neck to and fro, trying to get the icky sensation to let go, and finally succeeds with a loud crack.

Gary flinches. "Ow," he says, pushing at Winston's body to sit up, Winston patting at his face to get him to go away. He might have a strong layer of fat [should I just say "he is fat" here???], but Gary's weight is still too much for him.

"Sorry," Gary grimaces, getting off him entirely. He yawns, and Winston uses his hands on the bed as leverage to sit up properly as well. He brushes his hands through his hair, pulling on the strands a little. Rubs a hand over his mouth and crosses his legs under himself, the bed dipping beneath his altered weight. "You okay?" Gary asks, bending forward until his chest hits his knees to grab the laptop and pull it up to them.

"Fine," Winston murmurs, stretching his back and falling back on the now kind of mushed pillow. It's not quite as comfortable anymore, but it still does it's job just fine.

If only barely.

Gary hits the space bar on the computer keyboard until the screen lights up again, smiling at him. The screen casts a harsh light on him, and Winston squints as he returns Gary's smile.

"Wanna rewind and go again?" Gary asks, a mischievous grin on his face. The computer's light contours his face harshly, drawing clear lines and casting half his face in darkness.

Winston grins. "Yep," he says, adjusting himself so that there's still room for Gary.

They settle back in.

Thankfully, they don't fall asleep again. Watching the episode in question from start to finish, it's just about seven in the evening when they emerge from Gary's room. Cautious, they look around as they follow the lights in the hallway to the kitchen, peeking their heads around the entrance and observing the room.

Liam isn't in the kitchen, the table clean of his work and instead cutlery has been carefully placed out. Gary's mom looks over from beside the stove, raising an eyebrow. "Awake, are we?" her mouth pulls up in amusement.

They nod and hurry inside, settling on their normal seats. She eyes them as they go, and asks, "Are you staying over tonight?" stirring something in a big pot.

"It's it's no trouble," Winston answers.

She smiles at him, waving his worries away. "You're never any trouble," she insists, and Winston sinks into his seat, ducking his head and twiddling his fingers under the table.

He does, too.

Sleep over, that is.

And as Winston lies on a blowup bed at the floor in Gary's room, staring up at the ceiling in the dark with not even the noise from the road keeping him company, he smiles. Turns on his side, hand under the pillow, and gazes into the dark until his heavy eyelids defeat him, pulling him into the warm embrace of slumber.

It's quite nice, he thinks.