Anthony felt chastened in a way he hadn’t known Justin Finch-Fletchley could bring about these days. He hadn’t meant to come off as angry, he honestly hadn’t. A year spent watching the whole school get held in sway of two sadists tempers had really inspired him to work on his own. If it wasn’t helping then he needed to try harder and– wait a moment, angry suited him?
Startled, Anthony furrowed his brow as he tried to figure out what on earth to make of that when– ‘That is the last time you flirt with Anthony Goldstein tonight’ floated through the back of his mind and what? That hadn’t been Justin, had it? Thrown completely off-balance he glanced around them as if to find anyone else somehow flirting with him. Had that been flirting? He’d always thought it was a bit more loud and obvious, like the way Michael did it. Had that really been Justin, flirting with him? Anthony had never really pegged himself as someone people flirted with before. What was he supposed to do next? Did he flirt back? How did he even go about doing that? Maybe he just needed more sleep. Maybe this was a very strange hallucination.
His cheeks grew distinctly pink. Should he have noticed the flirting, without the mind-reading? Would someone more normal pick up on that? Why didn’t he have any non-mortifying options to talk about this with later?
Blinking rapidly, Anthony opened his mouth and then closed it entirely unsure of what to say. “…You think I’m clever?” He asked at last, which hadn’t really been what he’d intended to say but he also hadn’t the faintest idea what he had intended to say. “I am… awake right now? Right?” Possibly-weird-dream-Justin probably wouldn’t tell him if it was a dream but it seemed worth a shot.
This was new. In school, their relationship had been barely friendly at best, and at worst, it had edged on sort of pseudo-rivalry. They didn’t run in quite the same circles, but their lives overlapped enough to let them interact, and the resulting clash of their personalities didn’t exactly lead to the warmest friendship. Justin had always thought Anthony could’ve done with a nice long nap, and then maybe he’d be tolerable. Now, though, they’d developed some level of distant respect, and since Terry still liked him, Justin had begun to admire him just a bit. Not like he’d ever admit to that, but still, Anthony was a hard worker, and they were in the New Order together, and that counted for a lot.
Okay, scratch the first plan, flirt with him just a little. Maybe it was just his imagination, but Anthony was either bothered by this or he was flustered, and he was hedging his bets on the latter. Justin was rusty at this, but there was some solace in suspecting Anthony was even rustier (which, to his credit, he doubted he had any time for this sort of thing). The only question, really was how to go about it. He could just come out and say it: you’re stressed, I’m stressed, I’d be mad at myself if I came away from this without having at least tried to kiss you; he could play the long game, too, which seemed more fun but would require more restraint than he had. Begrudgingly, he settled somewhere in between - feel it out, and figure it out from there.
“Well, I’d hope you’re awake and I’m not a mere figment of your imagination? But that’s exactly the sort of thing a figment of your imagination would say, so don’t trust me,” he said, smiling. There were a few choice things that came to mind that he could say, now, (for example: if you’re asleep, I can think of something to wake you up), but they were all quickly vetoed. “Give yourself a good pinch, just to check.”
