SLEEPSONG (BoyxBoy)✔️

Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty Two

A throbbing pain in my head woke me. I sat up, throwing something heavy and warm off my side as I did, and I pulled my knees toward my chest so I could press my face against them. The blanket tangled everything up so I threw that off, too, but the motion made me dizzy and I quickly put my head in my hands.

"Wuzzappenin'?" I ground out. My mouth was so dry that I immediately began smacking, trying to work up some measure of saliva with which to speak. The weird part was, I wasn't thirsty, and my throat was sorer than it had been in years, making me wonder if I was getting sick.

I flinched when something next to me moved, dropping my hands to see Sebastian sit up. I would probably have blinked at him, stupidly, because I had no idea why the hell he was there, but the alarm clock was blaring its obnoxious monotone screech—wait, my room didn't have an alarm clock, did it?—and each sound punctured my ears like a knife.

"Where the hell am I?" I asked, rubbing my temples as I kept my eyes shut tight.

"My room," Sebastian said, and with a smack, he put the alarm on snooze. My heart fluttered a bit at that, but I paid it little attention because my head was absolutely killing me.

"Why?" I asked.

"You don't remember?" His voice was pitched soft and growly.

"No," I said, and when he paused for a second I concentrated on breathing.

"You got drunk at Moonies and slipped into a suicidal depression," he told me. "I had you sleep in here where I could keep an eye on you to prevent any further accidents from happening."

"That 'splains my hangover," I said, trying to cover my nerves—I slept with Sebastian all night? Did we 'do' anything? Did we—

That train of thought led me to noticing something... something scary. I cracked my eyes open to check, and I shut them again when I realized that the scary thing was indeed happening, that I wasn't merely mistaken, oh dear lord I wish I was mistaken—

"Can I ask you a question?" I said, carefully enunciating as I raised my head and looked at Sebastian's shiny amber eyes. He cocked his head slightly, willing me to go on, although his curly hair was a tangled mess and he was very obviously sleep-addled. With a sweep of my eyes I took in the fact that he was shirtless; I swallowed, feeling panicky and tense as I asked, "where are my pants and why am I completely naked under your shirt?"

His eyes popped open a little wider and we exchanged a long stare, one neither of us broke until he said, "your clothes were soaked when you fell into the ocean, and considering neither of us was really up for a hunt to find you something to wear, I had you shower in here and gave you my things instead."

"Oh."

We kept staring for a little longer. Then, at the same time, we both started to say something, but seeing that this was the case, we both shut up.

"You first," I said.

"No, you," Sebastian said.

"No, you," I said with a little force.

He stared at me. I stared at him.

"Do you remember—" he started to say, but at that precise moment, something loud cut through the otherwise silent room: a series of sharp cracks, like metal on stone, rapid-fired into my ears, making me cry out when my headache flared and pulsed in time to each deafening boom.

"Dammit!" Sebastian snapped when the sound stopped. Peeking through my fingers revealed that he too was cradling his head in his hands.

"Wait, you're hungover too?" I asked.