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drabbles-mc · 2 months ago

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What do you tell your friends? (1/4)

Sydney Adamu x Richie Jerimovich

Written for the 2024 Five Figure Fanwork Exchange

Chapter Index

Warnings: 18+, language, angst/arguing, smut

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: im so so so excited that i finally get to start sharing this here! hope you enjoy this little mini-series 🥰

The first time it happened, it wasn’t supposed to. It was fast, and messy, not a single trace of grace to be found. It was also way better than it had any business being, not that either of them admitted that. They didn’t admit to much of anything at all.

Richie was getting the waistband on his track pants situated in the aftermath, still managing to watch Syd in his periphery as he did so. She was rebuttoning her blouse, fingers struggling with the action in a way they normally wouldn’t.

He ran his hands over the top and down the back of his head, resting on the back of his neck as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to do or say next. He always had something to say, even if it wasn’t the right thing. But now, watching as Sydney straightened out her shirt, his mind was just static.

Still, he tried. She wasn’t even looking at him yet when he said, “So, uh—”

“Oh,” she turned towards him but it still didn’t quite feel like she was looking at him, “we don’t, you know,” she shook her head, eyes meeting his for only a moment, “I don’t think we have to talk about this, really.”

He scoffed, and there would’ve been more commitment to it if the edges of his brain didn’t still feel so fuzzy. “Right. Of course not. Why would we have to fuckin’ talk about it?”

Somehow two months had gone by and they still managed never to talk about it, not in a real way at least. That was an impressive feat in and of itself, something they would’ve given themselves a pat on the back for if either of them really gave the entire thing the thought and consideration it at least needed, if not deserved. But what they’d managed to create was one of the few things in their lives at the moment that wasn’t about thinking. It certainly hadn’t been thought-out that first night and it seemed to work out just fine. Surely if they kept it going it’d all keep being fine.

Their first night had been the first and, so far, last time they’d hooked up on company property. With all of the construction finally and truly underway, it never felt like there was a time when people weren’t at the restaurant. Which was fine. Completely and totally fine.

What the two of them had now were moments. Both looking at the barren, half-built-half-broken space where the improved kitchen and dining areas were going to be. Both rifling through boxes in the office looking for something. One of them stumbling upon the other who was searching in the depths of the basement for something that they knew they probably wouldn’t end up finding. The moments always had to do with work, and it wasn’t as though they were a pair of teenagers who couldn’t figure out how to keep their clothes on and their hands to themselves, but every now and then the air would feel a little different between them.

In those little moments they’d give each other tight nods and minimal eye contact, like they were afraid that someone was going to walk into the room with them and instantly sense what they’d done before. It was usually Syd that would slink by him and out of whatever space they were currently sharing, sometimes mumbling an excuse as she went, other times just simply brushing past him with a quiet, “Behind,” or, “Excuse me.” Richie never really said anything back except sometimes uttering, “Sorry,” or, “Sure thing,” as she went. Sometimes if she was standing close enough to him when she spoke, he could swear that he felt her breath on his skin. Not that he thought about it much. Not that it reminded him for a split second of the way it felt when she was panting into the crook of his neck, into his mouth as he’d pinned her against the desk in the office. Because that would be an inappropriate thing to think about your coworker at work. So he wouldn’t think about it. He’d shut his mouth and shake his head, and make a point not to stare at her when she would walk out of whatever space they were sharing at the time. Then the moment would pass—no harm, no foul. Totally normal.

She knew better than to say it out loud, even to herself, but Syd been expecting Richie to be an absolute terror about it all. After that first night she had been ready for every debate between them to get brought into the realm of absolute insanity because of what they’d done. She had been bracing herself for thinly veiled comments and innuendos in the brief times when it was just the two of them, him toeing the line in front of everyone else in a way that would spike her heart rate. But, considering how ridiculous he could’ve been about it, Syd had to admit at least to herself if not to him that he was surprisingly civilized. Maybe not quite chivalrous, but about as close to that as she expected Richie to get given the limbo they’d landed themselves in. She was thankful for it—if her and Richie ever talked about it she would’ve tried to find some weird way of telling him that, but they didn’t talk about it. It was fine; they were busy enough as it was, right?

It was early in the morning, and Carmy had already shown up and then taken off again on an errand that he never took the time to explain. Syd was looking around the dining area, hands propped on her hips as she tried to figure out where to start for the day, what she could actually do while they were still stuck waiting for one worker or another, one rep in the endless line that needed to show up for them.

She heard the front door open and she looked to see who was going to be walking in. When Richie came striding over, Sydney’s first reaction was one of relief, a sliver of the unease that she’d been feeling starting to melt away. At least she wasn’t alone. She only realized that she was starting to smile when she saw the smirk on Richie’s face in return, but it was too late to switch up and try to pretend that it didn’t happen.

He came to a stop right beside her, staring at the same scene she was. Eyes still forward, he asked, “Fak got it all tarped up for the guy today?”

Syd nodded, doing the kindness of not pointing out that the answer to Richie’s question was incredibly obvious to anyone with eyes. “Yeah. He took care of it before he left last night.”

Richie’s lips pulled down into a frown that made him almost seem impressed, like he was shocked that Fak had followed through and taken care of something the way that he was supposed to. “When’s the guy supposed to get here?”

Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she checked the time—it felt like it should be way later than it was but the reality of it was just that she’d been up for that long. “Uh, in about an hour, I think.” She shoved her phone away again. “If he shows up on time.”

He chuckled at how she peppered that in right at the end. “Right.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his track pants. “So. An hour?” He turned his head to look at her, face neutral except for the mischievous glint in his eyes. “What’re you doing for the next hour, then?”

She laughed even though she knew better. His tone was just neutral enough to pass the question off as genuine, but she couldn’t just take it at face-value. Shaking her head, she looked up at the ceiling for a moment to collect herself before looking at him again. “Was trying to figure that out when you showed up.”

Slipping his hands out of his pockets, he held his arms out and grinned. “Solvin’ problems and answering prayers—it’s what I do.”

Her shoulders shook with laughter even if she didn’t let the sound slip past her lips. “Fuck off.”

He was still grinning even as he brought his arms back to his sides again. They turned to face each other completely and it was only then that he let himself get a little more serious. “Where’s Carmy, anyway?”

The humor immediately disappeared from Sydney’s face at the question. Her frustration wasn’t aimed at Richie, but he was the only one there to be on the receiving end of it since the person she was actually frustrated with had already flown the coop for the day. Again.

“Would love to be able to tell you,” she said, unable to hide the bitterness in her tone.

“You call him?”

She shrugged. “For what? It’s been me and his voicemail these last few weeks.”

Richie couldn’t stop his laughter despite Syd’s evident frustration. “Gotta admit though, that’s kinda better than fuckin’ talking to him, right?”

She didn’t want to break, didn’t want to let go of the annoyance that was bubbling up in her chest all over again, but she couldn’t help it. She allowed herself to smile and she gave a short nod. “Kinda, yeah.” Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and got herself back into work mode. “Alright. Let’s…yeah.”

Richie chuckled, knocking his shoulder lightly into hers. “Sounds like a plan.”

She fought the urge to tell him to fuck off all over again. “You have a better idea? I’m open to suggestions.”

He grinned. “Suggestions? For how we could kill an hour until the fuckin’ jagoff electrician shows up? Yeah, I got a couple.”

“Restaurant related?”

He chuckled, dragging one hand over the lower part of his face. “Well, you know, we’d be in the restaurant.”

Syd was laughing even though she was burying her face in her hands. “Gross.”

“Not what you said—”

The door to the restaurant swung open and Richie had just enough control to stop himself mid-sentence while they waited to see who it was. Sydney knew that their luck couldn’t be so good that it was the contractor showing up early.

Tina appeared and walked over to the two of them, still pulling her jacket tight around herself to fight off the lingering chill from outside. Then it was just the three of them going back and forth between staring at the restaurant, or what was left of it anyway, and staring at each other.

“I can’t stay,” she said with a shake of her head. “Just wanted to grab a couple things quick for class.” She looked at Syd. “That’s all good, right?”

Syd nodded. “Yeah, yeah totally good.”

Richie shook his head as he added on, “Not like anyone can fuckin’ use ‘em here.”

Finally unfolding her arms from across her chest, Tina asked, “Yeah, I meant to ask, what’s going on with all that?” She looked at Syd. “There something I should be—”

“No,” Syd cut her off, shaking her head as she did so. “You don’t have to do anything. We, uh, we got it under control. It’s just taking a little longer than expected to get all the contractors and reps through here.” She looked Tina in the eye, voice steady. “You and Ebra just focus on school. Take whatever you need for class, really, it’s fine.”

There was a moment of hesitation before Tina finally nodded, a tiny but grateful smile on her face. “Thank you.”

Syndey nodded, feeling a sense of relief over the fact that even though things with construction might not be on the schedule she wanted, and that even though things with Carmy were a mess that she couldn’t even try to clear up because she couldn’t hold his attention for a full conversation, and even though things with Richie were whatever the fuck they were with Richie, she at least had Tina. Things with Tina were going well and she was going to let that be the life raft that she desperately needed for the moment.

She and Richie watched as Tina collected up the few items that she needed. Richie wasn’t looking at Syd as he spoke to her. “Hey, uh, later?”

Syd wasn’t looking at him either as she said, “Later, what?”

He cleared his throat, which got her to look at him. He nodded towards the door. “You know.”

Her eyes went wide for a moment, that specific look that Richie had become all too acquainted with in the time that they’d worked together and spent together. The look that said she was pissed off but couldn’t say what she wanted to with her words so she was settling for saying it with her eyes.

“Unbelievable.”

Before Richie could say anything in response that matched the smug look on his face, Tina came back over to them. She gave each of them a quick hug goodbye, pressing a brief kiss against Richie’s cheek as she went.

“You two better be playing nice while I’m gone,” she told them as she looked back and forth between them.

“C’mon, Tina,” Richie called after her as she walked away, “like I know how to play any other way!”

As soon as the door shut behind Tina, Sydney reached over and shoved Richie. “You’re lucky that she had Carmy’s good knife or I swear I’d stab you again.”

He chuckled. “Least you’d stab me with the good knife this time.” Turning on his heel, he headed deeper into the construction zone. “C’mon, Chef, we have work to do.”

Sydney was laughing as she watched him walk away, and it was as genuine a sound as it was sarcastic. “Wow,” she said, shaking her head as she followed him, knowing that there were things that they had to do.

It was late, and dark, when Sydney was finally getting ready to leave the restaurant. Most of the day had gone sort of according to plan, so she had that to be thankful for at least. She still hadn’t seen or heard from Carmy, which was now more frustrating than it was concerning. She’d hung around later than she intended to hoping to catch him, but when he didn’t show she decided that she was just going to keep pushing onward anyway. And right now, pushing onward meant going home and finally going to bed.

She had her back to the sidewalk as she locked the main door to The Bear for the night. She could instantly see her breath and she tried not to think about that knowing she was going to have to walk to the station to get home. It wasn’t a horrible walk, and it was one she was perfectly accustomed to doing, but on nights like tonight when she was already tired and exhausted, it seemed worse than it really was.

Her balancing act between mentally preparing for her walk and mentally spiraling about it was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Her grip on the restaurant key tightened as she turned over her shoulder to see who was there, but the tension disappeared as quickly as it’d shown up when she saw that it was Richie standing there trying to get her attention.

She gave him a confused look. “Thought you went home a while ago.”

He shook his head. “Talkin’ to Fak about—”

Syd held her hand up to stop him, not needing more of an explanation than that. “Got it.”

Richie chuckled as he flicked away the last of his cigarette. “Why’re you still here?”

Syd rolled her eyes and shook her head as she crossed her arms over her chest. “For no reason, apparently.”

Richie pulled a face. “Yeesh.”

It got a weary smile out of her. “Exactly.”

He motioned back over his shoulder towards where his car was parked. “If you want—”

“Richie, it’s been a fucking day. A long fucking day. I think I just need to get home.”

“Would you let me just finish my fucking sentence? Please?” He paused and waited for her to nod him along. “As I was saying. If you want I can drive you home so you don’t have to walk. You know, since it’s been a long fucking day.”

Letting her head drop back, Syd allowed herself to smile. If she’d been talking with anyone else she might’ve felt a little bad for snapping the way that she had. But it was Richie, and it was far from the worst thing they’d said to each other. It wasn’t even enough to break the skin.

She tucked her chin down towards her chest again as she looked at Richie. He raised his eyebrows, offer still lingering in the air between them. Finally, she nodded. “Yeah, alright.” She started walking down the sidewalk. “I’ll let you do that for me.”

He laughed as he caught up and fell into stride with her. “You’ll let me?”

She was looking at the sidewalk passing beneath her feet as she laughed, the warmth of her breath causing puffs of fog. “Yeah, I’ll let you, since you want to so badly.”

He was shaking his head at her as he continued to laugh, but he didn’t say anything else. They walked side by side, the outsides of their arms brushing as they went. The swishing sound of their jackets filling the silence between them as their sleeves rubbed against each other. Syd was still looking down at the ground, and Richie was pretending to look around the street instead of over at her as he fought the urge to drape his arm across her shoulders. It would’ve been so easy to do, but he fished his keys out of his pocket to keep his hands busy instead. That felt like the normal and appropriate thing to do.

That quiet moment and the sweet gesture were all but forgotten about by the time the next night rolled around. It was way past time to go home for the night, and Sydney and Richie were at each other’s throats, Natalie there trying to play referee but finding it difficult because she wanted to put Richie’s head through a wall almost as much as Sydney did in that moment.

“Why the fuck would you ever think that this would be okay?!” she shouted, gesturing to the extension cords that were rolled and hanging off of Richie’s shoulder.

He scoffed, gesturing wildly at nothing. “I’m fuckin’, fuckin’ improvising! I’m problem solving! That’s what we’re fucking doing here!”

Her eyes got wide again in that way that let Richie know he should backpedal, even though they both knew that he was just going to double-down. And so would she. “This isn’t solving anything! You are not a problem solver right now, Richie. You are a problem creator!”

He rolled his eyes. “Fuck you. You have no—”

“Hey!” Natalie cut him off. Her voice lowered drastically, but it was just as cutting as she warned him, “Watch it.”

Richie shook his head. “Fuck you too!”

Sydney interjected again, her voice not quite as loud as it had been, but not quite back to her normal talking pitch yet. “It was dangerous, Richie! Like, really dangerous.”

He stared up at the ceiling like he was waiting for divine intervention. “It is not that fucking dangerous! You two have no fuckin’ idea what you’re—”

“What the fuck is going on?!” Carmy’s voice echoed over all of theirs, foreign in the argument and also just foreign to the space in general after how absent he’d been as of late.

Syd felt like a spectator of her own life as she tried to keep track of all the conversations that broke out after he’d asked that question. Part of her wanted to lay into Carmy that maybe he would know what the fuck was going on if he’d been making any type of effort to show up to his own restaurant lately, but she didn’t have the energy to get into it. She listened to everyone firing back and forth, and was registering all of it without truly processing her way through any of it. She heard Carmy and Natalie going back and forth, she heard Richie and Claire, she heard Natalie and Claire. She even heard herself every now and again but none of it really felt like it was sticking.

She couldn’t really remember how she’d excused herself but she knew that she did because before she knew it she was grabbing her jacket and making her way towards the door. Carmy was calling after her but she ignored him—it should’ve felt good to put the shoe on the other foot but it didn’t feel like anything. Natalie was calling after her and she ignored that too. That was a scratch she would be able to slap a band-aid on tomorrow.

Syd was a few yards down the street from the restaurant, aggressively pulling her hood up over her head when she heard Richie yelling after her. She ignored that, but it was shortly followed by the sound of his footsteps as he ran to catch up to her.

“Just gonna fuckin’ leave, then?” he said when he was nearly caught up.

She shook her head and continued walking without saying anything. The only reason that she could even hear him at all over the sound of the blood rushing in her ears was because he was so goddamn loud. Just because she heard him, though, didn’t mean that she was going to respond to him.

He got another stride closer and reached out to grab onto her. His fingers wound their way into the slippery fabric of her coat and he gave her enough of a tug to get her to stumble back a step. She jerked around to face him, causing him to lose his grip in the process.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

Her brows knit together, wondering what he thought her answer to that question was going to be, like it wasn’t obvious. “Home, Richie.”

He gestured back towards the restaurant. “We gotta fuckin’—”

“No.”

“But—”

“We don’t have to fucking do anything. You,” she pointed at him, then pointed back at The Bear, “can go talk to Carmy about whatever it is that you wanna do since he’s here now. It’s his restaurant, right? And he’s,” she laughed, the sound as dry as it’d ever been, “he’s finally showing up for it so you might as well take advantage—”

His laughter nearly matched hers in levels of sarcasm. “I don’t know, sounds like you might have some shit you need to talk to him about.”

Syd rolled her eyes. “He’s clearly too busy for me, for this.” She nodded towards the restaurant to prove her point.

There was a moment of heavy silence between them as she and Richie stared at each other. Her expression conveyed nothing but annoyance. She could tell by the look in Richie’s eyes that he was still trying to size her up, trying to figure out what she was thinking and where her head was at with something. He always got around to asking about it, or if not asking about he would make a joke or biting remark that would get them to the same point eventually. So she didn’t break the eye contact—he’d step up to the plate if he wanted to.

“This ‘cause he,” he chuckled in disbelief as he shook his head, hands landing on his hips. “Is this because he fuckin’ showed up with Claire?”

Her face twisted at the question, somewhere between confusion and disbelief. “What?”

Richie let out one short laugh as he stared up at the sky, so few of the stars visible against all the light the city of Chicago threw out at them. He was still staring upwards as he said, “Un-fucking-believable. You’re all pissy because he’s been blowing you off for his girlfriend? What’s the fu—”

“I’m pissy,” Syd stopped him short, “because he’s been blowing me off. Period. Claire Bear has nothing to do with it,” she spat. She knew he would take her increasing annoyance as him being right, but the truth of the matter now was that not only was she annoyed with Carmy for blowing her off, she was annoyed at Richie for his assumptions.

He shook his head as he stared down at her. “Yeah, sure. Right.”

Shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, she made the decision to fire back instead of retreating, or further clarifying. “Why’d you take off, then? Claire not give you the answer you wanted about Tiff’s new boyfriend?”

Richie’s expression instantly hardened. All the smarm and sarcasm disappeared in a flash. “Don’t fuckin’ go there.”

Syd shrugged. “You went there first.” She felt the tic in her jaw. “And you knew it was fucked, so…”

He wanted to keep it going, but he couldn’t. His shoulders dropped as he sighed. Dragging his hands down his face, he tried to collect his thoughts enough to figure out a way to get the two of them from the conversation that they were currently trapped in, to something else that would end without even more layers of frustration.

He huffed. “The fuck kind of name is Frank, anyway?”

Sydney laughed despite herself—it wasn’t what she had been expecting. Hands still shoved in her pockets, she tapped the toe of her shoe against the sidewalk. “Want me to tell you it’s a dumb name?”

“I do, yeah.”

She let out a tired chuckle as she nodded. “Frank’s a dumb name, Richie.”

“Thank—”

“Kind of like how stealing electricity from our neighbors is a dumb idea.”

His head immediately dropped forward at the words. “Had to go and fuckin’ ruin—”

“Just tell me you’re not going to try and do that again and I’ll drop it.”

He paused for longer than he should’ve considering she was giving him the perfect out that he had been looking for. But he still didn’t want to just give it all up that easily. The least he could do, for himself if nothing else, was wait a few seconds before giving in the way that he knew he was going to have to, the way that he had been ever since they started tearing down The Beef to turn it into The Bear.

“Fine.” He wanted to leave it at that but then he saw the look on her face and he knew that the one-word answer wasn’t going to cut it. “I won’t fuckin’ do it again.”

Syd nodded. “Thank you.” She turned, angling her body to make it clear that she was going to keep on heading home. “It’s cold out, so I’m going home now.” She paused and waited to see if he was going to say anything to try and stop her. When he didn’t, when she saw the slightly lost look on his face, she accepted her fate for the evening. “Night, Chef.”

Richie let her get three steps away from him before he called after her. “Ch—Syd, wait.” He cleared his throat as she turned back around to face him. She raised her eyebrows expectantly and Richie pulled his car keys out of his pocket. “Wanna…you know…”

She tilted her head as she considered it. It’d be right on track for them, really. The frustration that she was feeling in her chest right then was how this whole mess got started in the first place—all that frustration with Carmy, with the restaurant, with life and everything else and they had nowhere to put it all except on each other.

“Okay.”

As she stepped back towards him, and she could see the shift in his expression. She could tell that he hadn’t been expecting her to say yes to that. She hadn’t really expected it either, but it beat going home alone and stressing out about everything that had happened. At least this way she wasn’t going to have to think about it.

Richie nodded as their strides fell in-sync while they walked towards his car. “Okay.”

As they walked into his apartment, Sydney realized just how thankful she also was for the fact that the two of them no longer forced any awkward small talk when they went to Richie’s place together, or when she turned up there on her own. She had enough time to toe off her shoes and shrug her jacket off her shoulders without interruption—he was still a little bit of a gentleman after all. But there were no attempts at conversations or smooth segues if they weren’t already in the middle of discussing something when they got there.

That was why it didn’t take very long for Sydney to find herself on her back on Richie’s bed, arching into him as he held her leg that was hooked around his waist. The only thing that she could hear above the sound of her own breathing were the curses and nearly incoherent words that Richie murmured into her skin just beneath her ear.

His blunt fingernails dug into the soft flesh of her thigh as he thrust into her, driving her deeper into the mattress. She gripped onto his shoulders, needing something to anchor herself. Then she felt the way he shifted, the way both his hands were then on the pillow on either side of her head, his forearms caging her in. Her legs locked tighter around his waist while her hands rested at the nape of his neck. His breath was warm against her neck, the prickle of his facial hair on the column of her throat a contrast to the softness of his lips as he kissed and sucked on the skin there.

She felt like there wasn’t a single part of her that wasn’t being touched by him as he pinned her body beneath his. He was everywhere at once, lips dragging across her skin, rough palms running up and down her body, his touch somehow needy and soft all at once.

He knew the moment that he’d gotten just the right angle when she looped her arms underneath his, nails biting into his back as she tried to pull him closer despite the futile nature of it. She lifted her head up from the pillow to press her forehead in the pocket of space where his neck met his shoulder. Richie shut his eyes as he focused on the feeling of her, not just the way she felt as he pushed inside her, but the way she grabbed at him so needily, the hot bursts of her breath against his skin, the fleeting feeling of her tongue against his neck. It was all enough to send him toppling over the edge with a few more sharp snaps of his hips, rewarded with the moan that Syd let out as she came right after him.

Her head dropped back to the pillow as she rode out the receding waves of her high, and Richie was in no position to pull away from her as he practically collapsed right on top of her. He rested his head against her chest, his ear pressed to her allowing him to hear her racing heartbeat. Their current position also allowed him to feel every drastic rise and fall of Sydney’s chest as she fought to catch her breath. Her legs dropped from around his waist, and as she untangled her arms from underneath his, she let one of her arms drape across her forehead, the other she let fall on Richie. Her hand rested almost perfectly between his shoulder blades, and Richie enjoyed the extra smatter of warmth against his back.

Neither of them said anything while they both waited for their heartrates to slow back down. Richie ended up matching his breathing to hers without even trying to, focused on the thrumming of her heartbeat against his cheek. It wasn’t until he felt Syd let out a sigh that he realized the two of them had been laying together like that for a while.

With nothing more than a quiet groan, Richie pried himself away from her and off the bed in one almost-fluid motion. He scooped his underwear up off the floor and stepped into them. He was still adjusting the waistband as he left the bedroom.

He was only gone for two minutes, three minutes tops. And yet when he came back to the room, one water bottle for each of them in his hands, he saw Sydney up on her feet and adjusting the bedsheets. He shook his head at her as he watched her. She’d grabbed his t-shirt from the floor, and there was something about seeing her in a shirt that said The Original Beef of Chicagoland that gave him pause. Not only that, but as she crouched down to pull the corners of the sheets back over his mattress, he could see the edges of her panties peeking out from underneath it. All he could do for a few seconds was stand there and watch her, but then he got himself back in order again.

“Don’t have to do all that,” he said as he crossed the threshold back into the room.

She looked over her shoulder and watched as he set the water bottles on his bedside table by his alarm clock. “Yeah, well, you still haven’t gotten sheets that actually fit your mattress, so—”

“These sheets fit just fine every other night so I don’t think the sheets are the fuckin’ issue here,” Richie argued with a laugh. He saw her about to head to the other side of the mattress to repeat the adjustment process and blocked her from being able to do so. “Give it a rest.”

She rolled her eyes at him but she did take the instruction to give it a rest. She plopped back down onto the bed and grabbed one of the water bottles that he’d brought in for them. She unscrewed the cap and drank far more of it in one go than she thought she was going to. Placing it back on Richie’s nightstand, she sank so that she was lying down on the mattress again. Just as she was about to pull the comforter back over herself, Richie yanked on the fitted sheet causing her to slide across the bed in the process.

Sydney let out a sound somewhere between a yelp and a laugh as she fought to get her balance back while he continued to tug at the sheets beneath her. Richie laughed as he lifted the corner of the mattress just enough to crudely tuck the sheet underneath it. When he looked up at Syd, she was propped up on her elbows staring intently at him, but he could still see the smirk fighting its way onto her face.

“See?” He stood up and held his hands out in a proud gesture. “Got it.”

Rather than saying anything, Sydney simply reached over and grabbed the water bottle that she hadn’t taken a drink from and pitched it over to him. They both laughed as he fumbled to catch it. She was shaking her head and tucking herself in while Richie all but chugged the entire thing.

As she settled down into the mattress, she rolled onto her side so that she was facing Richie. She wasn’t looking at him, though. Instead she was looking down at his comforter that was wound between her fingers. She became very aware of the feeling of the soft, worn-out cotton of Richie’s t-shirt against her skin. She didn’t usually wear his clothes, and in the moment she realized why—it felt more intimate than she bargained for. She just hadn’t wanted to put her button-down back on. It was comfortable to wear for work, but not for sleeping in if she could help it. But now as she laid there, covered in Richie’s shirt and blankets and immersed in the scent of him because of that, it was too late to go back on it now.

Richie’s voice pulled her out of her spiral. “Looks like you’re about to blow a fuse over there.”

She looked at him, the intensity in her expression softening as she let out a quiet laugh. If they had been somewhere else, his statement would’ve been an invitation to talk about what she was thinking about. But that’s not what they did here, so instead she said, “Always.”

He chuckled as he plopped down on the other side of the bed from her. She always took his side of the bed, not that she knew that because he never said anything to stop her from doing it. Shuffling around, he tried to get himself comfortable. His legs brushed against hers beneath the covers a few times as he tossed and turned. He could feel Sydney staring at him and chose not to pay any mind to it. She was the one stealing his side, after all.

He ended up laying on his back, one arm tucked behind his head and one draped across his stomach as he looked up at the ceiling. Sydney was still laying on her side facing him, and Richie couldn’t help but to feel like she was laying there staring at him. Turning his head, he looked over at her, only to find that she was laying there with her eyes closed and the blanket pulled right up underneath her chin.

He didn’t turn back right away, and somehow Sydney could tell because she said, tiredness creeping into her voice, “Go to sleep.”

Richie chuckled at the fact that he’d been caught. He gave her a small nudge. “Can’t until you turn the lamp off.”

She groaned as she turned in the other direction. She squinted her eyes against the light as she turned it off. In the darkness, Richie could hear her roll back so that she was facing him again. Even though he wasn’t letting his laughter escape past his lips, Syd could feel the mattress shifting as he tried to hold it in and she shook her head at him.

“Go to sleep,” she repeated.

He chuckled as he took his arm from behind his head and slipped it under the covers instead. His tone was all sleepiness and humor as he said, “Yes, Chef.”

(divider by @saradika-graphics)

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