#this is queued but surely i am tossing and turning trying not to jerk awake to stare at this /pos

[unriding]

“you’re hurt?!”

“i’m not hurt.”

“you are hurt — here … and … and here too!?”

“hmph. this is nothing.”

there’s a brief moment of silence, then a low huff from him as his gaze shifts to the floor instead. “fine. ill be more careful next time. i promise.”

comm from 🎊 @puppetgearing

[burning-up-ao3]

Edge of 17   ch 4/8  Netflix and Chill

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22297483/chapters/53527456

Sid was setting up his desk when Evgeni came upstairs looking guilty holding a plate of chocolate chip cookies

He handed it to Sid and said, “Mama.” 

Sid eyed Evgeni up and down ignoring that he looked—confusing in his tight jeans. They were perfectly fine jeans, that wasn’t confusing. But Sid’s heart beat a little flippy, like right before a big test or an important game. “Can you speak English?” 

Evgeni held his fingers very closely together as if to say <i>a little bit.</i> “Can know, but bad speak.”

Sid thought about that and then nodded. “Like, you understand what people are saying, but you think you don’t speak good?”  Evgeni nodded, and Sid felt bad that he would think that. “I think you talk fine.”  

Sid removed the passcode from his iPad, queued up Netflix, and handed Evgeni the iPad. “I don’t know if you have homework, but I have a paper due at midnight. You can sit on the bed—” Sid pointed with his thumb “—and do whatever. I have to work.” 

Evgeni grinned and hopped onto Sid’s bed, made himself comfortable lying on his stomach with his chin propped on his hands. He kicked off his shoes and the opening notes of <i>Friends’</i> theme song made Sid smile.

“I love that show!” Sid said, definitely not realizing how good, seriously good, Evgeni looked lying on his bed.

Evgeni patted the space next to him on the mattress. “Watch?”

“I can’t.” <i>Fuck this paper. Why’d he wait so long to start it?!</i> “I have to do this paper.”

Evgeni’s smile seemed strained. “Plenty of <i>Friends.</i> Can watch when you finish.” It sounded like a command, not a question, and Sid didn’t mind at all.

It was 8:00. He had four hours to write this paper. “Let’s do this!” Sid said out loud. Evgeni didn’t hear him; he was ignoring his stuffed backpack and Sid in favor of Ross and Rachel.

Sid grabbed his English textbook, the notes he’d taken from the school’s resources, and pulled up the file of online research. For the next three hours, Sid was lost in Massachusetts and the lives of Thoreau and Emerson. 

Occasionally, Evgeni’s laughter pulled him out, brought him back to his room and the confusion he felt with Evgeni lying on his bed. He did his best to ignore his feelings—because of his looming deadline, for sure. 

With 30 minutes to spare, Sid finished proofreading his paper and hit <i>send</i> with a whoop! “You still watching <i>Friends?”</i>Sid asked, sitting on the bed against the headboard, careful to keep the bro-space between them.

Evgeni sat up and scooted closer to Sid until the bro-space was gone, and their sides were pressed together. He was warm and smelled like chocolate chip cookies and a little bit like that morning’s cologne. Sid wanted to tuck his face into the crook of Evgeni’s neck and catalogue the scents, see if they changed day by day or remained the same.

<i>This is fucking stupid,</i> Sid thought, trying to shake himself out of this sudden crush, but Evgeni was hot and nice and hot and on his bed. And Sid felt so alone and lonely. Everyone around him was pairing off—Flower and Vero. Tanger and Cat. Even Jake was hanging out with Nicole. Sid heard their stories in the locker room; even if he were sure 99% of them were just flat out made up, he wanted to feel someone else’s hands on his skin, someone else’s lips on his.

But he’d also heard the locker room chatter, the casual <i>faggot</i> and <i>cocksucker</i> bombs dropped without thought. The snickers as one of the openly gay students walked past them in the hall. Sid shut it down each time, told them, “We’re better than that,” but if that’s what they thought, how could he tell them he was gay? 

Another episode of <i>Friends</i> cycled on, and Evgeni dozed and jerked awake several times. Each time, he leaned a little more toward Sid until he was fully asleep, his head resting on Sid’s shoulder.

Sid allowed himself the rest of the episode to enjoy the intimacy, and when it was over, he whispered, “Hey. Time to wake up.”

Evgeni wasn’t just dozing. He was hard asleep and difficult to wake up.

“Hey. Wake up! It’s time for bed.” Sid edged his shoulder out from under Evgeni’s head and gently poked Evgeni’s side.

Evgeni mumbled something in Russian as he tried to crack open his eyes. Then he said, “Make no sense. Was already asleep.” 

“You can’t sleep on me all night,” Sid answered as lightly as he could, because every atom in him wanted to shout <i>Yes, you can!</i>

Sid grabbed one of the bed pillows and the comforter off the bed and tossed them onto the floor. He folded it into a makeshift sleeping bag. “Do you need any sweat pants or a t shirt or—”

When he turned around to finish the question, Evgeni was shirtless and stepping out of his jeans. Sid swallowed hard. That was—a lot. Pale skin, defined abs. Sparse, dark hair on his chest.

“Am good. Sleep like this,” Evgeni said, pointing down his body. “Why you sleep down there? Big bed?” 

<i>Cuz I don’t want to wake up with a huge hard on for you,</i> he couldn’t say. “Uh, I, uh, take up a lot of room when I sleep. I don’t want to kick you or anything.”

“Big bed,” Evgeni repeated. When Sid didn’t respond, Evgeni stalked to the other side of the bed and yanked the blanket and pillow from the floor and put them back on the bed. “Sleep.”

Sid gave up, nodded, and stepped into the bathroom to brush his teeth and pee. When he came out, Evgeni was already asleep on the left side of the bed. Sid exchanged his jeans for sweats and slid between the sheets. 

This was nicer than the floor. He’d just lie here all night on the edge of the bed with plenty of space between them and couldn’t do anything stupid.  

“Good night—Evgeni.” He butchered the pronunciation; he knew he had. 

But Evgeni reached out and laid his wide hand on Sid’s shoulder and mumbled, “Sidney best.”

The warmth and weight of Evgeni’s hand calmed Sid’s nerves about sharing the bed. Sid listened to Evgeni’s breathing even back out into sleep; that plus the morning skate and afternoon coaching were more than he could resist. 

Within minutes, his resolve to stay awake all night had evaporated. Whatever happened, he’d deal with it in the morning.