grayoo.
it’s late. it’s far too late to be on somebody’s doorstep — someone not expecting a visit, no less — unless someone is dying. the moon has taken its path across the sky, no longer above and instead sinking into the horizon behind the stone’s family home. he’s cold, shivering even as he pulls the blanket draped across his shoulders closer, tighter, as if there’s a wind chill to be weary of (there isn’t). his hands tremble as they go, not raising to knock on the door and disturb anyone, but rather to send a quick text to someone residing inside, notifying them of his presence. minjae is likely sleeping, and it’s doubtful that the mere feeling of the vibration will carry far enough from their phone, nor be strong enough to wake them from their slumber. that’s okay, though. gray had been expecting as much when he arrived, and he settles his aching bones onto the cold, concrete doorstep with the welcome mat tickling his behind. he can wait it out. maybe he can even nap now, knowing he’s close to someone even if they’re separated by walls and dreams.
he couldn’t handle it tonight. usually he does better than this. usually he can be better, stronger. being alone is terrifying, mind racing, blood coursing at a deafening rate and the knowledge that the darkness beginning to fill his vision might be from panic at the current time, but could easily become his entirety soon enough. he’d needed to get out of there, out of it. his eyes are drifting shut, the outside light having yet to turn off after his arrival, when the door opens behind him and he’s greeted with the sight of minjae’s youngest sibling, cheeks puffed out like a hamster and a sandwich in his hand. freddie with his morning shift at the bakery. gray is so stupidly relieved to see him that he could cry.
a few words are exchanged, freddie mentioning he’d seen the light come on whilst making breakfast for himself. gray had spooked him, he says, but he’d recognised the blanket he was drowning in. gray’s already stiff from having been sat somewhere so cold and unforgiving, but with a hand from his saviour, he’s managing to make his way inside and up the stairs. they’re exhausting, but there’s an end goal in sight that keeps him going, keeps him moving until he finds himself slipping off his shoes and crawling into the bed beside his sleeping best friend. he feels the first signs of warmth as he slips beneath the sheets, and he’s greedy as he rests his fingertips just beneath the hem of minjae’s sleep shirt, curled so close to them as he is. they’re like icicles, and the body heat is almost as soothing as the other’s presence. he isn’t sure if it’ll be enough to wake them, but he’s content to settle in for a nap if not.
@min-jaes
Sleep pulls at them like a comfort blanket, heavier than anything they’d draped over their body when they crawled into their bed last night and curled up. Minjae works. A lot. Sleep is a rarity for them, and especially heavy sleep considering they’re sort of accustomed to stirring at any little vibration, any slight shift in their surroundings that they’re capable of feeling. Noises don’t matter, of course, but lights and dips and the feeling of a door slamming anywhere in their home would no doubt rip them from their dreams more quickly than they could stop it.
This sleep is dreamless, however. There seems to be nothing but endless blackness from the moment they shut their eyes until the moment they feel their mattress sink beneath the weight of somebody else, falling back into consciousness like a shock of cold water. It doesn’t take much for them to become fully aware, a blessing and a curse all things considered, but they still think it’s probably just Freddie at first. It isn’t until icy fingers touch their skin that they realize it couldn’t possibly be, and not very long after that, Gray’s scent is there. That makes sense. He would’ve been the second person they’d of thought of to slip in here in the early hours of the morning, seeking cuddles and seeking them.
Body turning about to face him, they blink over at him through the dark, the morning sun not having quite begun to crest the horizon yet. Their black out curtains are drawn back for that reason; they usually use it to wake them, and they are used to the light from the street that pours in throughout the night. It doesn’t take more than one look at his features, even through the shadows, to know exactly why it is that he’s here. They’ve become good at reading him over the time they’ve known each other, and their heart sinks; aches a little for him. Details don’t really matter --- all they need to know is that he’s not good.
“Hey.” They speak aloud rather than signing, their position too awkward, and they want to use their hands for other things. Before Gray can respond, they’re reaching for their bedside lamp, the warm yellow glow filling the room not oppressive, but enough to help them be able to see enough to read his lips. An unfortunate necessity; they would’ve liked to stay in the dark, otherwise.
A hand presses to his cheek then, and Minjae shifts to press their bodies together a bit more thoroughly, studying Gray’s features now that there’s more to see by. “You should’ve come last night.” This seems like it’s been brewing at least since then, if not before.
