Who was ringing his doorbell at ten at night? Â It was a good thing he was still up, wrapped around one of his textbooks, or heâd be somewhat grumpy about it. Â Well, actually, he was a bit grumpy all the same. Â Heâd been starting to nod off.
âYeah, yeah. Â Hold on.â Â He took his time marking down his page with a fold of the corner, setting it front and center on his desk, and changing from his sleeping pants to at least a pair of shorts that would look decent and not like he was about to pass out.
When he opened the door to see Snow there, though, he immediately realized that he should have grabbed a shirt too. Â Few things made him quite as self-conscious as being around the muscular brawler. Â âIâuh, hey. Â Whatâs got you out here, so late?â Â So he covered it up with trying to sound irritated, instead.
As ashamed as he was to admit it, Snow had woken up from a nightmare he couldnât quite remember. All that kept playing in his mind on some morbid, broken repeat was Serah screaming his name in pain and terror. That wasnât the part he was ashamed about, however. Everyone had nightmares, it was something they couldnât control. No. Â What was embarrassing was that for the past forty five minutes he kept tossing and turning, unable to fall back to sleep because that nightmare haunted him, shook him to his core.
With a groan of exasperation, Snow turned over onto his back and stared up at the dim ceiling, one arm falling to the side to drape half-way off the side of the mattress. He knew he wasnât getting some shut eye any time soon. At least if he remained alone, left to his own devices. Randomly, he thought about Hope. The kid was rather relaxing to be around, seemed to have this way about him that eased some unknown pressure in his chest. Plus, Hope pretty much lived right next door.
Sitting up, he paused perched at the side of the bed and gave a wide stretch with an obnoxiously loud yawn. He glanced down and decided it was probably best to put on a pair of pants. He didnât have anything to be ashamed of, but people probably wouldnât appreciate him walking around in the nude. So, pulling on some loose fitting black sweatpants and matching slippers, Snow briefly combed his fingers through his hair in hopes of looking halfway presentable and made his way to Hopeâs doorstep and knocked.
And he waitedâŚ..for a suspicious amount of time that got his brain wandering where it shouldnât. Then, the door finally opened to reveal Hope in nothing but shorts and it just fueled his suspicion.
Snow leaned against the door-frame as he casually gave Hope a once over with a lopsided grin spreading across his features. He ignored the question, and the kidâs irritation, in favor of asking one of his own. âWhat took you so long to answer the door? Did I interrupt something?â
The suggestive, teasing tone left little in the way of what he was getting at with that question. If he was right, perhaps Hope wasnât such a kid any longer after all.
It was only now that he was actually in conversation that he took time to note Snowâs state.  He always felt inadequate, but realising the other was also naked from the waist up just made it worse.  In a lot of ways.  Inadequacy always gave way to admiration, and that gave way to fantasy.  At least Snowâs usual coat covered most of it up, but this was unfair.
âInterrupt something...?â Wait, what was he doing?  He had to process things a bit, trying to shake his head clear, now that it had focused in on oh, shit, itâs Snow.  âY-yeah.  I was reading.â  It was the truth, and frankly it was a believable truth... but given the weay he was hesitant in his words it probably didnât sound like it.  A kick of the horomones probably didnât help either; not that Hope had any idea what Snow was suspecting of him.
âWhy? Â What do you want?â Just try to sound irritated as ever, he told himself, trying his best not to let his voice crack or anything dumb like that.