#this is the continuation of my other ralbert oneshot from recently

[loiteringandlurking]

Albert lies on Race's bed. It's 8:34am (or so Race's clock tells him), he's groggy, and he can hear Race's microwave and coffee machine.

He blinks a few times. He remembers what had happened last night; he wasn't THAT drunk, and he remembers it was fucking embarrassing. He dreads facing Race as he will inevitably have to.

Race, the cute guy in apartment 309 that now knows it was Albert leaving him meals after he overheard on the phone Race hated cooking, Race who smells faintly of smoke and has a crooked smile, Race who he shared a bed with last night, Race who gave Albert his hoodie. Race who, Albert is certain of it, he is completely and totally crushing on.

He drags one foot to the floor, then another, pushing himself upright. His sweatpants are creased, the neckline of his- Race's- hoodie is askew, his hair is knotted and all over the place; he can tell just by running a hand through it. He follows the noise of the coffee machine to Race's kitchen.

There he is.

God, Albert nearly faints. His hair is adorably tousled, his shirt is loose and hanging barely onto his shoulders, he has his back to Albert, letting him drink in all of his sharp lines, curved musculature- or at least what he can see under the shirt.

Albert clears his throat.

Race turns, brandishing a mug. "Morning! How'd you sleep?"

Albert tears his eyes from Race's figure to look at Race's coffee machine.

"Uh.. alright. I'm a little hungover, though. I might get a glass of water?" He clears his throat again, looking down to his feet. "Sorry about last night."

Race is all smiles and bounces as he fills a glass with water and brings it to Albert, smiling softly and, dare Albert say, sweetly and lovingly, as he hands Albert the water and pats his shoulder.

"That's totally okay, man. I get it, I get you. I'm sorry about how fucked up and awful your emotions must be. But now we get to eat yummy breakfast together!" Race points at the microwave. "The food you made last night! I have no idea what it is, but it looks and smells delicious!!"

"We?"

Race looks away, takes his hand off Albert's shoulder- Albert's shoulder is cold.

"Well.. I mean, unless you don't want to..."

"No! No, I want to." Albert steps closer to Race, putting his own hand on Race's shoulder. "I just.... I was scared you didn't like me."

Race looks shocked.

The coffee machine stops brewing.

"No, Al, I..." Race sighs, looking away. "I don't know. I'm confused."

Albert sags, a little defeated. "That's okay. Take your time figuring it out. I'll be here for you, if you want me to be."

The microwave beeps.

"That would be lovely."