Insomnia

Midnight Conversations II

I love indulging on my little rarepairs
Also OJ has not roommates in this, cuz he's always busy and doesn't want to bother his roommate with his work

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The morning was horrible for Pickle. Before he could confide in OJ about his emotional state, OJ had found a bunch of people stuffed away in his closet, curotsey of MePhone. After that was an ecruciating trial that he had to sit through, then OJ had to host II for a bit and Picke dug through his old junk to find a picture of Taco which really helped with making him feel more of a pathetic man. Thankfully Knife was able to get out of that slump he was in but, things are easier said than done. Pickle's life isn't like a video game, he can't just pass through every level easily. After Knife had left, Pickle started feeling depressed again and the next thing he knew, he was staring at the ceiling instead of fixing his terrible sleep schedule.

"It really shouldn't be this hard..."

Pickle laid in his messy bed, blankets that were falling offthe bed, sheets coming undone, shirts and pants littered around the room. Just an overall terribly messy room that would o caused Soap to have a heart attack. it wasn't like Pickle was a messy person hough, he actually likes having a decently cleann room. But actually getting up and doing something felt extremely draining when it really shouldn't. So eventually, everything piled up and was now a mess. Staying in his room didn't make Pickle feel good either. it felt cramped, gross and suffocating. If ony he could crash somewhere else.

Crash somewhere else?

Wait a minute...

Pickle glanced at his phone and saw that it was 3 in the morning. Surely OJ was awake. Maybe doing something exremely mundane like folding towels or reading through complaints. But, would he be happy lettng an insomniac depressed weirdo in his room when he's trying to be productive? Maybe not, but Pickle just wanted any form of company so the next thing he knew, Pickle was quietly sneaking out of his room and tip toeing his way to OJ's room. After some stumbling and nearly losing an eye again, Pickle finally found his way to OJ's room. Pickle saw the light coming out of the crack of OJ's door.

Good, he's awake... Pickle mentally sighed as he knocked on the door as quietly as he could. A moment of silence. Suddenly Pickle felt anxious if he was doing the right thing, maybe seeing OJ at 3 in the morning is a bad idea. Maybe he'll open the door and close it in Pickle's face. Who would want to deal with an emotional wreck so late? Maybe he should turn back. Pickle turned his back and started walking slowly back to his room.

"Pickle?"

Pickle turned around to see OJ at the door. The light from his room spilling into the empty hallway as it almost blinded Pickle as his eyes had gotten used to the dark. But that was the last thing that was on Pickle's mind.

OJ peered at Pickle, confused. "Pickle? What are you doing outside my door? Is something wrong-"

OJ's words were quickly muffled as Pickle had come to hug him tightly, resting his head on top of the ginger's. OJ jumped at the suddenly gesture and was about to question Pickle's sudden affection until he felt Pickle slightly tremble while he embraced him tightly. A wave of empathy washed over the shorter man, so he didn't question anything, but hugged the other just as tight.

"Not feeling good?"

Pickle only responded with a small nod, still burying his head into OJ's. OJ stroked Pickle's hair gently, it's not often when Pickle asks for help, even if it wasn't verbal. OJ had gotten good at reading people after taking care of a lot of people in the hotel, so this wasn't too new to him. Well, maybe the tight hug was new and a bit flustering, but whatever Pickle needed, OJ wanted to make sure he got it.

"Do you want to come inside?"

"Yeah..." Pickle's voice wavered dangerously. OJ felt a sting of sadness. Pickle was one of his closest friends, it really breaks his heart to see him so vulnerable. OJ then lead Pickle into his room carefully, holding onto his hand. Pickle scanned the new bright environment around him. A warm and inviting room, with a tidy and neat bed, big desk with a ridiculous pile of papers and a cute little panda plush in the corner of the bed. Not a single mess in sight, a compete 180 of Pickle's room. The cleanliness of the room felt inviting to Pickle as he took a seat on the side of OJ's bed as OJ brought him a cup of water and sat next to him.

"So, everything alright?"

Pickle took a quiet sip from his cup, "Yeah. Well, not really. I've been... thinking..."

"Bad thinking?"

"I guess so," Pickle sighed, "I don't know how to put it into words but, I didn't want to be alone in these thoughts. And I figured everyone else was asleep so I came to you."

"Well, I'm happy to help." OJ smiled, "You don't have to tell me anything, only if you want too. I'm glad you trust me when you're in a vulnerable position."

OJ out a hand on top of Pickle's and squeezed it comfortingly. It made Pickle's face turn hot but he looked away before OJ could make a comment. It felt nice though. It reminded Pickle of before he was burdened by the trauma Taco had left him.

Before he knew it, Pickle and OJ talked about many things; how OJ knew a lot of fun facts about pandas, Pickle considering playing the saxophone again, how Salt was giving OJ nightmares and the relationship between Bomb and Paper. They laughed and talked for so long, that when Pickle checked the time, it was 4:30 in the morning.

"Shoot, we should sleep soon."

"Oh, right! Hmm... Do you want to sleep in my bed so you're comfortable then? I can sleep on the floor so."

"Oh no!" Pickle immediately declined OJ's offer, "It's your room! I don't want to kick you out of your own bed."

OJ shushed Pickle by pressing a finger on Pickle's lips.

"It's really fine, you've been through enough for one day, might as well sleep comfy!"

Pickle blushed as OJ's finger was still firmly pressed on his lips. He dared not to utter a single word. OJ then removed his finger with a satisfied huff, and walked off to grab some clean white blankets for Pickle and a futon for himself to sleep on. Just as OJ handed Pickle the blankets, Pickle spoke softly.

"Actually, can you sleep with me?"

OJ frozen, his face building a hue of scarlet, "Huh?"

Pickle quicky reiterated, "No! Not like that but just, sleep next to me! I... I don't want to be alone..."

OJ seemed to have thought for a moment, his face still a blazed but then slowly nodded, "Uhm, sure. Why not? Just don't make it weird alright?" He chuckled softly, making it Pickle's turn to blush.

"Yeah yeah! I know. Don't get your hopes up OJ, I'm not into gingers!"

OJ let out a hearty laugh as he undid his ponytail, letting his long hair flow freely and sat at the opposite side of the bed. Pickle blushed and re thought everything that lead up to this moment but, it did feel nice to sleep with someone around again. It made things, less lonely. Pickle pulled the blanket over both of them as they took to the farthest corner of the the bed, backs facing each others.

"Uhmm... goodnight then." Pickle said gently. He heard a small laugh that made his heart do a mini flip.

"Goodnight Pickle..."

"Goodnight OJ..."

Falling asleep was much easier that night.