Catch the Thunder

Couch Cuddles

Laxus had to say this much about Freed's apartment. The couch was incredibly comfortable. If he had been just a friend coming to visit, he could have comfortably slept on the spacious couch. Instead, he knew he had a bed waiting for him. A bed with Freed!

On their tour of the apartment, Freed had bashfully shown him the bedroom. He had not made the bed that morning, and he scurried to yank the covers into place now, but seeing that lived-in look just made Laxus more relaxed. After the scummy tenements he had slept in since leaving home, this upscale apartment almost felt too nice to live in. It was spotless, the carpets had no stains, the furniture was all new, it smelled like vanilla, and it was so spacious! At least, compared to his bachelor apartments that were pretty much just a space to sleep and shit.

So that messy bed, the robe tossed over a chair, the hamper with Freed's dirty underwear on top, and a wastebasket with wadded tissues (oh, Laxus knew why he had so many tissues in there!) were all proof that he too would be living here. It was not some museum gallery. It was a home. Their home!

And that bed! Freed stuttered as he apologized if the bed was too small, and Laxus just had to laugh. It was a fucking king-size bed! All Laxus did was sit on the bed to test out the mattress: firm but not stiff, just how he liked it. It was like this brat had bought all of this stuff instinctively knowing precisely what Laxus had always wanted.

Then they popped open a bottle of wine—rule number two of living together: they needed more alcohol, and there should always be rum, brandy, or whiskey—and they had a quiet celebration. They toasted, they kissed, they curled up together on the couch to watch some TV, and here they were now, Laxus sprawled on the couch, Freed lying on top of him, their eyes half closed at the television screen, not really watching the rerun of Full House.

"You know," Freed muttered, "when I was a kid, I totally had a crush on Jesse."

Laxus hummed at that little confession.

"John Stamos was the hottest thing on TV."

Another hum.

"Of course, it's Danny and Joey who are in a homosexual relationship. It's pretty obvious, too. Dude married, had three kids, his wife died, and that freed his gay tendencies toward his childhood best friend."

A sleepy grunt.

"And Joey ... well, you can't tell me Joey isn't gay."

"I agree with you there," Laxus murmured. "Dunno about Danny. Dude married a lady."

"Bisexual."

Laxus hummed as he considered that. After all, he still jerked off to ladies in porn flicks. "But Jesse, no way was he gay."

"I dunno. He seems to be overcompensating with the testosterone."

"Dude, Becky! The guy loved her, married her, and they had kids and shit."

"Let me have my childhood fantasies," Freed pouted.

"Not when they involve John Stamos."

Freed chuckled at Laxus' covetousness. "It's cute that you're jealous of an actor from the 1980s."

"Shut up. I'd be jealous if you told me Charleston Heston was sexy."

Freed hummed at that. "Nah, I'm more of a Humphrey Bogart man."

"Bitch."

They watched until the episode ended with everyone happy, a perfect TV comedy ending of course. Freed muted some hair-loss commercial and rolled around to look down at the half-asleep blond.