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Later on Sunday

My day has been a veritable rollercoaster of emotion.

                So first, there was waking up in bed with Dexter, which was initially shocking, then saddening when I remembered why we in bed together in the first place. Poor Dex. Had his heart ripped out by a magical mythical creature in public.

                He told me everything she’d said at Funderland, and then I went to hug him and he rested his arms over mine and laid his head on my shoulder and I sort of rocked him from side to side for a while, saying nothing. Then his breathing evened out a bit and I realised he was getting really sleepy, and right on cue he said, ‘Would it be okay if I went to bed now? I know it’s early but I’m so tired.’

                ‘Sure,’ I said, a little awkwardly, because he still hadn’t lifted his head or let go of my arms. ‘Do you want me to sleep on the couch…?’ I knew he was okay with the fact that I’m gay, obviously, but people can be weird about that stuff when it comes to sleeping arrangements. Understandably, in Dexter’s case, because you’d have to be both blind and impotent not to want to jump his bones.

                This caused him to lift his head however. ‘God, I didn’t even think,’ he said, berating himself. ‘You take the bed, I’ll take the couch. I’m being an idiot, sorry, of course Gary wouldn’t want-’

                ‘Gary can deal,’ I interrupted; I didn’t want him on my dad’s lumpy second-hand couch after the day he’d had. ‘I don’t mind sharing as long as you’re cool with it.’

                His forehead creased in uncertainty; he was definitely only a few minutes away from Nod. ‘Are you sure?’

                ‘Yes,’ I said firmly, scooting back in the bed and reaching out to turn off my lamp. The room went dark and I crawled under the covers; I could see Dexter’s outline doing likewise at the other side of the bed, and I paused as I tried to figure out which way to face. Usually I face into the centre of the bed, and I can’t really sleep on my other side, but I didn’t want it to be weird. I was about to lay down facing the window, when Dexter, who was already asleep, grunted quietly and nudged back in the bed, his body close to mine. If I rolled over now I’d fall out of the bed. I pondered for a few more minutes before I heard Andie’s voice in my head, screaming at me to stop being such an idiot and just go with it. It wasn’t like I was taking advantage of him. So I sighed and let my eyes flutter closed, breathing in his smell, which was sweet and spicy all at once.

                And then when I woke up this morning, we were wrapped up in each other like a pretzel. It was awks (can’t believe Andie has me using that word, but w/e) since I woke up first and I wanted so bad in equal measures to both kiss him and not be in that situation at all. I knew he was close to waking up because his eyelids were fluttering a little, and his long dark lashes were brushing against those amazing cheekbones. His lips were all sleep-swollen and lovely and one of his hands was thrown across my chest while he was laying on one of mine which, I noticed was numb.

                I felt like such a pervert just staring at him, and quickly closed my eyes again, pretending to be asleep, when I saw he was waking up.

                ‘Hm.. Oh, sorry…’ he muttered, lifting his hand off my chest and wiping the sleep out of his eyes (I peeked). ‘Looks like I practically pushed you out of bed,’ he mumbled, tiredly, rolling over to his own side and off my arm.

                ‘It’s okay,’ I said, flexing my arm to try and return some feeling to it, then flinching when pins and needles rushed in.

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