Oh My God, They Were Roommates

22 | Closing Time

At around midnight, Erin passed out on Ray's bed thinking it was Sora's, pulled the blankets over her head, and ceased to exist for the night. Not only that, but she raided Ray's clothes and, considering most of his old clothes were oversized to hide his body, they fit her swimmingly.

Sora and Ray stared in absolute dismay at Erin completely passed out in Ray's bedroom before Sora reached over for the door handle and gently closed the door.

The moment it was closed, he closed his eyes and steadied himself against the doorframe. "I'm... so sorry about this," he said.

Ray crossed his arms with a smirk and said, "Did... Did you just apologize? To me? The Great Sora Ikeda apologizing—"

As if Sora's stuffy head wasn't already throbbing, it abruptly rendered him useless. He couldn't speak, much less defend himself—not when he was this exhausted and fed up with life.

He went to his room and disappeared behind the door. Ray bit his lip and looked away, rubbing a hand beneath his chin as he wondered aloud, "Maybe that was a bit harsh..." in a hushed voice.

A moment later, though, Sora emerged again, this time with his arms full of blankets.

He dropped them next to the kotatsu, brushed his hands off, and said, "In case she wakes up, we should both sleep out here—since she doesn't know about my actual room."

"R-Right," Ray agreed. He blinked, speechless for a moment, before he realized what they were doing. He gasped. "Like a slumber party?!"

Sora frowned. "No—"

"I can't remember the last time I had a slumber party," Ray said, thrilled. He ran to get ready for bed, at which point, Sora gave up trying to fight it and instead set to work unfolding the blankets into makeshift sleeping bags.

When they were both ready for sleep, the two of them settled under the covers, their backs turned to one another. Ray, facing the window, and Sora, facing the kitchen. It was a dreadful period of silence, one that sent Ray's anxiety into overdrive.

How could he say something so hurtful, even to Sora? He had no excuses for treating Sora like that, no matter how rude Sora tended to be. Ray clenched his fists into the blanket and pulled his knees up, tense and frustrated with himself for always blurting out the first thing on his mind.

Ray heard the blankets rustle several feet away from him. He heard Sora turn onto his back before sighing, the covers pulled up to his chin. Still awake, Ray thought, hesitant to look over his shoulder.

After a moment of silence, Ray cleared his throat and said, quietly, "I thought you were working tonight."

"In a way," Sora whispered, eyes on the ceiling.

Intrigued, Ray really did look over his shoulder. Sora's face was enshrouded in moonlight. "What does that mean?" Ray asked. He really didn't understand the club business, and his imagination tended to run wild.

Sora glanced at Ray before looking away. Ray turned away. He wasn't sure why he expected Sora to answer him. Sora's work is off limits, Ray reminded himself, and he'd just have to be happy with knowing what, exactly, Sora's work even was.

But then, Sora said, "I've been hired to be an escort. For one of my regulars."

Ray's brow furrowed. He pushed up onto his elbow and turned back to Sora, an eyebrow raised. Sora looked at him out of the corner of his eyes and said, "You don't know what an escort is, do you."

"Not at all," Ray confessed, slumping with a sigh. He flopped back onto his pillow. "What do you do?"

He shrugged. "I'm basically... arm candy to a sugar daddy."