#as soon as he's asleep he becomes A Heat Seeking Missile of hugs. there is no escape. Tumblr posts

[total-drama-brainrot]

i just posted a silly impulsive headcanon in the discord off the top of my head, but now that i'm thinking about it...

let's say, during their stay in jamaica (or maybe in a later season/different show altogether?) the contestants are staying in hotel rooms for simplicities' sake. and due to the number of them, they're paired up. not an issue, right?

noah goes to join owen in his room, but he's already partnered up with tyler (or whomever), so noah's left with only alejandro as an option. great. again, it's whatever, it's only temporary. at least they'll be able to sleep in proper beds, so things are still looking up!

oh, they've been given the last available room? it's got the queen bed? oh sweet! so they've got bigger beds than the others? no?

wait. what do you mean "only one bed?"

oh shit oh fuck he's totally doomed.

well, they'll just have to make do. noah isn't about to cause a fuss about his sleeping arrangements, he's already tired enough from the plane crash itself and the challenges they competed in. what's the worst that could happen?

(he steadfastly ignores the Very Possible Outcome of his unfortunate sleeping habit, even when various headlines pertaining to a certain awake-a-thon incident race across his vision like spectres. because it's NOT going to happen again.)

alejandro also takes the news with his usual levels of grace and poise- all of that social training as the son of a diplomat has done him well- though noah can just tell by the tenseness in his shoulders and the stiffness of his posture that he's not as calm about the situation as he'd like the others to believe.

whatever. it's just a bed, who cares?

when they're getting ready to sleep- in an actual bed, what a luxury!- noah and alejandro gingerly climb into their respective sleep wears, both facing the opposite direction. this is the first time the whole season that they've been allowed the opportunity to sleep in their actual pyjamas. you know, since they haven't exactly had beds.

alejandro, dressed in his tank top and sleep shorts (he'd usually sleep in just the shorts, but the thought of doing so whilst sharing a sleep space seemed inappropriate), turns to climb into their queen bed only to see noah, who is already dressed in his own loose t-shirt and shorts, stepping into a pair of sweatpants and pulling a thick looking sweater over his sleepwear. what the fuck?

the room they're in isn't even cold, they're in jamaica?

even worse, noah's actively putting on a pair of fluffy socks. who wears socks to bed?

and then, then, the absolute mad lad reaches into his luggage and pulls out an equally fluffy dressing gown (or bathrobe/housecoat, same thing tbf), wrapping it around himself like a winter coat as if he's somehow cold in his two- now three- layers. it's almost 26°c out there! (80°f)

and the psycho smiles to himself, breathing out a sigh of contented air (and, alejandro notices, uncurling from his slightly hunched over posture, as if he'd been trying to conserve heat), as if he's not sweating his ass off under his three weather inappropriate layers!

so, as a concerned team leader, alejandro points out the obvious; he shouldn't be wearing so many layers to bed, he's going to get heat stroke.

but noah argues back; he naturally runs cold, especially when he's asleep.

and alejandro briefly recalls the amount of times he's noticed a napping noah shivering in his sleep despite wearing his usual three layers of clothing and the jet itself being kept a consistent room temperature for all it's faults, but his logic reasons that even so noah still doesn't need to wear socks to bed (it's immoral).

eventually noah gives up defending his (objectively wrong) decision to wear thick layered clothing and socks to bed and just climbs under the covers (discarding the dressing gown on the way, he's not completely insane), huffing in annoyance as he curls up at the edge of the mattress and makes a point of ignoring his company.

alejandro also sighs to himself, though whether it's in defeat or exasperation he isn't entirely sure, and carefully slots himself onto the opposite edge of the bed.

the two fall asleep in a tense silence with almost a meter of space between them.

which is why it's surprising when alejandro wakes up a few hours later, absolutely boiling under the heated weight practically glued to his side.

noah's iconic hair, softer in texture that it's usually neat waves would imply, tickles at his neck whilst the cynic's face is pressed firmly into his chest. his sweater-clad arms and wrapped almost possessively around his shoulders and his legs and tangled between the latino's own. whilst the added pressure is nice bearable, alejandro is sweating his life out beneath the warmth of another body.

when he tries to unpeel his clingy companion from his side, a sleeping noah seems to take that as a challenge and digs his hands into the taller's shoulders, which is when alejandro realises that despite everything noah's hands are freezing to the touch. how?! the two of them end up even further entwined than before, as his escape efforts only lead to noah wrapping his body even tighter around alejandro like a particularly stubborn boa constrictor until he had the shorter practically sleeping on top of him- as if alejandro himself was the mattress, or some oversized teddy bear.

it's... not an ideal situation.

alejandro kicks the duvet off of the pair, prompting a shiver from the wannabe koala attached to him, but the freedom from the oppressive heat outweighs any remorse he would've felt for depriving his companion from potential heat stroke. without the oven-like heat of the duvet, having the warmth of another curled up against him is actually pretty nice, and alejandro soon finds unconsciousness washing over him like the (comparatively) cool air of their room.

noah wakes up as sunlight filters into their suite, his face tucked firmly into alejandro's neck as the taller cradles him between his arms, deep slumbering breaths making his chest periodically rise and fall against noah's own. his arms are wrapped around the spaniard's waist, cold hands gripping loosely at the fabric of his tank top, and their legs are to tangled together that it takes the bookworm a few moments to figure out which ones are his.

he's warm, for once, and it's wonderful. he barely spares a thought at how awkward the situation is going to be when they're both awake and just presses himself further into alejandro's inviting warmth, mouth twitching into a smile, as he drifts back to sleep.