It’s finals week, and the library had begun it’s 24 hour run for the students in desperate need of catching up. 2:45 had just passed and Nursey and Dex were still nestled in the corner of the top floor, textbooks, and laptops, and empty Starbucks between them. Nursey’s fighting off the urge to pass out right there on the cool wooden table, lulled by the hum of the printer machine and the sporadic buzz from the lights as they flicker on and off.
When he opens his eyes, Dex is staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, hands frozen over the keyboard. The snapback he wore a few minutes ago is sitting beside him, leaving his hair wild and messy and Nursey wants to run his hands through it. “You don’t have to stay up with me, Nurse. You’re not even studying anymore, I think you’ve fallen asleep mid-sentence like twice.”
“I’m brainstorming some poetry ideas…with my eyes closed.” Dex snorts and Nursey tries to wake himself up, patting at his cheeks until he feels a sting. “I just can’t understand what professor has you shitting yourself like this. You said the assignment’s only like 10% of your grade.”
Dex’s eyes flick up, a smile tugging at his lips. “Do you ever think about what you’re going to say before you speak, or does it just come out automatically?”
“I’m only half-conscious, man.”
Dex goes into a little tirade on code theory, complete with detailed definitions and dramatic hand waving and Nursey’s eyes are heavy and his mind is heavy and he’s not even entirely sure if he’s on the same plane of existence as he was thirty minutes ago, but all he can think is I could kiss you right now.
The rhythmic tap of Dex’s fingers on the keyboard comes to a full stop, and his speech tapers off, and he’s just staring at Nursey like he just solved the world’s greatest mystery.
Eloquently Nursey says, “Your cheeks are red as fuck, bro.”
“Did you just say you want to kiss me?” Dex blurts out, and his voice cracks a little and Nursey would laugh if he didn’t just come to the realization that he said that aloud.
A moment passes, just long enough where the space between them becomes even more uncomfortable and Nursey shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah.”
Another moment passes, a long one, before Dex mumbles something, cheeks flushed, and Nursey nudges him to speak up.
“Tomorrow, asshole,” Dex bites out, but there’s no malice, just nervous anticipation. “Like a date or something. When we’re not stressed about finals and running on three hours of sleep.”
“Tomorrow,” Nursey echoes, and he can’t resist (and Dex doesn’t protest) when he leans across the table to press a kiss to his cheek.
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