gurabad | 037 » on and on we carry through the fear

[fortunately (or unfortunately?) for zephirin, francel's excitement seems to wind down by the third or fourth time they are stuck at an absurdly long red light, and by the time zephirin comes around the passenger side to help him out of the car, the boy has, indeed, fallen asleep. or passed out. it's hard to tell which.

his expression is placidly content. he seems as though he'll remain fairly well-behaved, at any rate... perhaps zephirin will simply have to carry the boy, either in his arms or upon his shoulders.]

[ Francel's breaths are warm puffs of air tickling Zephirin's palm when Zephirin checks his breathing, and the boy looks too peaceful to disturb. It would be much easier for Zephirin to carry him on his back, if Francel were awake and able to hold on to his shoulders; as it is, Zephirin's best option is to gather Francel into his arms. Leaving his coat in the car, he locks the doors with a press of a button on his keychain, and carefully navigates the path to his apartment on the fourth floor, privately hoping for few neighbours out and about.

Mercifully, the elevator is empty, as is the hallway outside. A small light set on a timer illuminates enough of the apartment's interior that the very last steps left to take don't end in painful collisions with pieces of furniture in the dark.

Zephirin places Francel upon his bed, moving onto selecting clean pajamas and a fresh toothbrush for the boy to use. ]

[francel's impromptu nap does not last the duration of the entire night. he wakes after an hour, mostly on account of the fact that the belt loops of his jeans feel uncomfortably tight around his hips, and he decides that he would like to use the restroom — but when he opens his eyes the scenery is unfamiliar. the bed he is lying on is also unfamiliar, though strangely more comfortable than his real bed at home.

francel sits up properly and rubs his eyes.]

...Where...?

[ Zephirin's bedroom is dark, the curtains drawn, but a light burns further down the hall, coming from the kitchen. There, Zephirin has just finished drying some dishware to put away. His footsteps soon grow louder, then stop; for a moment, he stands silhouetted in the doorway to the bedroom. ]

Francel. [ Entering the room, Zephirin switches on the lamp on the nightstand. ] Are you alright?

[francel nods in response to that question, hoping to put zephirin's concerns away. it takes effort and great deal of willpower, but he convinces himself to sit up in bed — too quickly, perhaps, as he presses a hand to his forehead to dispel a sudden bout of lightheadedness.]

...I'm fine.

[he... remembers mostly everything...]

...Er, thank you for putting up with me...

It was no trouble.

[ Zephirin shrugs, moving the waiting pile of garments for Francel to borrow, toothbrush on top, closer to Francel's side of the mattress. ]

"Zephinyan" may catch on... In any case, you're free to sleep here tonight, and help yourself to anything in the kitchen. The bathroom is at the end of the hall.

[ Tomorrow, should Francel finalize his plans to move in, they will have time to rearrange the apartment to accommodate two people again. ]

[blushing furiously at "zephinyan," francel scratches his cheek sheepishly and chuckles.]

I'm not hungry... I should wash up, though. Oh, are these for me?

[the bundle of clothes and toothbrush bring francel sudden joy, as though he has never been gifted with anything so fine before, though he is a rich man's son and he has no doubt never lacked for pajamas or a toothbrush in his life. he smiles, hugging the garments to his chest; they feel soft and cozy.]

I'll go get changed, then. Where should I sleep?

Here.

[ Zephirin indicates the bed. The simple checkered sheets are newly changed, retaining the subtle scent of fresh laundry. ]

I'll sleep in the living room.

[ The couch there, narrower than the bed, with considerably less leg room, will do for one night, but it's inadequate for a guest. ]

[francel is halfway to the bathroom, but he pauses and tilts his head at zephirin in response to that answer.]

...Shouldn't it be the other way around?

Would you prefer the couch?

[ Looking up from collecting his own sleep clothes, placed aside in a corner of the room, Zephirin tilts his head at Francel in kind, brows raised. ]

I don't recommend it.

[ Even Janlenoux, normally laid-back, regretted a night spent there when a visiting Adelphel claimed his bed... ]

I wouldn't mind if that would make you more comfortable...

[...though francel trails off as he says that, mostly because he is well aware that zephirin is precisely the kind of man who would not, in fact, be more comfortable sleeping comfortably upon a mattress while his guest was consigned to the couch. fidgeting, francel isn't entirely certain that the words come out of his mouth when he squeaks out a nervous:]

...W-What if we shared the bed?

If you're comfortable with it, that would be a solution.

[ A hint of surprise colours Zephirin's expression, but he agrees to Francel's suggestion without hesitation — it's a sensible compromise that spares them a prolonged discussion over their sleeping arrangements, and any concerns on Francel's part that he has inconvenienced Zephirin. If neither of them hogs the blankets, or tosses and turns, or invades the other person's space with cold feet, they'll both have a peaceful rest of the night.

Deeming the matter settled, Zephirin returns to his pajamas to change his clothes while Francel washes up. ]

[francel is so utterly delighted by zephirin's easygoing response that he cannot quite hide the spring in his step as he bounces to the bathroom. they're going to share a bed? they're going to share a bed!

he has no expectations, of course. he just wants to snuggle up close, and feel warm and comfortable, maybe breathe zephirin's scent...

all thoughts of aucheforne are mercifully far from his mind. in time, francel emerges wearing zephirin's sleepwear — it's just the slightest bit big on him, but it makes him look appealingly soft. eager and excited, he looks around for zephirin as though he needs the older man's permission to go to bed.]

[ Zephirin hasn't climbed into bed yet, but the covers are folded to one side for Francel to get comfortable first. Dressed in a green pajama top and bottoms, Zephirin rises from his chair and turns off his phone when Francel comes back from the bathroom; he places it on the nightstand by the lamp, greeting Francel with a glance and a small smile.

Now that he has sobered up, Francel seems shy once more, but no less excited for bed than he was to "go home with Zephinyan." ]

[though francel approaches zephirin quite timidly, he soon leaps into bed, doing his absolute best not to take up more space than necessary. he rolls over once or twice, adjusting to the feel of the unfamiliar-yet-comfortable mattress — then he faces zephirin and smiles.]

I think it'll fit both of us.

[ There is something undeniably appealing about the scene, and Zephirin stands motionless, watching, until Francel is satisfied with his survey of the bed. He nods his agreement then, seating himself on the edge of the mattress, toeing off his slippers to slide his legs underneath the covers.

They both fit, if not with room to spare. ]

Good night.

Good night.

[as much as francel would like to cuddle in and squeeze zephirin's slender waist, he realizes that would be overstepping his boundaries, so he maintains a careful distance. zephirin's sleepwear feels wonderfully soft against francel's skin, and they both smell faintly of zephirin's soap and shampoo, though francel thinks it smells better on the other man than it does on him.

this is comfortable.

after a brief moment — so brief that he is certain that neither of them could have fallen asleep — the boy speaks.]

...Zephirin? [he pauses for just a moment, then continues:] If I tell you something... will you promise you won't get mad at me for it?

[ Zephirin has switched off the bedside lamp, and settled in to sleep on his side, but he is just as awake as Francel. Eyes open, he makes out the boy's figure beside him.

Another moment passes, and then Zephirin gives Francel his answer: ]

You have my word.

[ Even if Francel's something were to anger him, the boy has nothing to fear — Zephirin is neither Charibert nor Aucheforne. He won't lash out at Francel for speaking his mind. ]

[francel hesitates for another moment, but then continues:]

I... I wasn't all that drunk.

[he half-buries his nose in the pillow, as if attempting to hide even though he is mere ilms from zephirin's touch.]

I just... wanted to play with you...

...I see.

[ For someone who fell asleep and slept so soundly that he didn't wake at all on the way from Zephirin's car to the apartment, Francel recovered remarkably quickly. His admission is plausible, then, and has the sound of a child's guilty confession, stemming from a wish for his absent father's attention.

Zephirin isn't old enough to acquire an adult son, but his tone is neutral when he replies, not annoyed, not impatient. ]

Ideally, we would have spoken with your family before leaving together. It seems I've abducted you after all...

[impossibly relieved over the fact that zephirin has not even the slightest word of rebuke for him — indeed, he seems to have chosen to pass over the matter entirely — francel smiles broadly in the dark and moves just the tiniest bit closer.]

I-It's okay! They won't even notice that I'm gone.

[that doesn't seem to be the point here, but...]

...Um, we have a housekeeper that I'm close with... his name is Civerege. He only works on Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday, but I can text him tomorrow and ask him to bring some of my stuff here. I don't have a lot, so...

[ Zephirin's long legs don't quite fit on the mattress without his angling them slightly — his bent knees briefly touch Francel's thigh before he shifts his position, straightening his legs. His feet bump into the far end of the bed's frame. ]

...Nevertheless, feel free to give him my contact details.

[ Francel sounds wholly certain that not a single member of his family would notice his absence, but surely they see one another at least once in a while — surely his siblings and his parents would eventually begin to question his never coming home.

Though Zephirin sees no reason to be angry with Francel, had he known the truth of the boy's seeming drunkenness sooner, he would have waited until tomorrow, making use of that time to plan out a better organized move. ]

[francel murmurs quiet assent. in truth, he regrets nothing — he did not want to spend even one more second in a space where he thought aucheforne might find him, and anyway, zephirin's apartment feels strangely comfortable, as though he is being welcomed home to a home that was never his.

when zephirin touches him, then pulls away, he smiles.]

...Um... if you need to touch me, that's okay. I don't mind.

[ The room is too dark now to see anything but vague shapes, and it hides Francel's expression, but Zephirin hears the boy's smile in the tone of his voice. ]

Likewise — sleep as you would in your own bed.

[ Touching each other sooner or later is inevitable. Even though Zephirin barely moves all night once asleep, his body is accustomed to his drawing his legs up to keep his feet underneath the covers, avoiding the cold foot of the bed. Before long, it returns to the usual. ]

[before long, too, francel falls asleep. he, too, barely moves all night once asleep — albeit with one caveat: the boy has forgotten to mention that he likes to hug something while he sleeps, and tonight, that something is zephirin.

assuming that the professor has no especially strong objections to an undergraduate hugging him all night as they sleep, zephirin will wake in the morning to francel's arms wrapped tight around his waist.

the boy feels strangely soft and full of delicious sleepy warmth...]

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