Sticking two hot heads who've had it out for each other since day one didn't seem smart. But yet that's exactly what happens. Roman and Will didn't "click" together, the closest they were to having something in common was their swim team and their n...
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With every step he took, he felt like he was going backward. First Roman and him are fucking like rabbits, then they're fighting over who moved the blanket. Then they were laughing with each other, but then right after they were ignoring each other. With every push they gave, one pulled back
And so many steps have been taken forward lately. The way they were able to share the bed now without a huge argument or trying to shove each other off. The way they fell into a schedule of bonding exercises, eating breakfast together, and spending the day together laughing and fucking was comforting. It felt like things were falling into place nicely. Like they were at least friends at most. But last night seemed to have reversed everything. Their relationship was fragile. Sensitive. One snap of the fingers and everything they subconsciously worked on came crashing down.
Will figured this out when he woke up. Normally the sun would peer through the tall windows and a dark-haired boy's body would drown in the sun's rays.
He would notice his tousled hair and laugh, to which he would get mad. He would then complain about Will's horrible sleeping habit of taking all of the blanket when they slept and how freezing he was in his thin pair of boxers. And Will meant thin, almost skin tight that left nothing to imagine and led to some morning fucking.
But this morning was different. His warmth wasn't there. There were no asses. No bratty mouth mouthing off. No jokes being spit out. The bed was empty.
Will instantly got up, stumbling a little as his slight hangover caught up with him. He grabbed the small throw blanket from the bed and wrapped it around him, holding it closely around his chest. He stumbled out of the room. He instantly took notice of how cold it was, his bare feet on the wooden floors, and the slight chill up his spine.
The first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. Too quiet. On other days the house echoed with Roman's snoring, on others, it was filled with his piano melody, and on some, it was the sound of brushes and paper clinking together. But it was silent, the ocean's faint noise the only thing he could hear.
He pattered his feet on the floor, slowly inching toward the living room. He immediately noticed his curly hair, his head over the edge of the couch with his eyes on the ceiling. Will pursed his lips. If he had to guess what last night was about, he would've said Roman was jealous. He would've found it hot if the boy didn't get so mad about it. But why did he feel the need to apologize? He was having fun last night, pleasing the fuck out of everyone except Roman. Was he having fun?
His feet finally caught up with his brain as they maneuvered their way toward Roman. He approached him at the edge of the couch, Roman's blue eyes instinctively met his. They were emotionless. Something really fucking odd.
Will's mouth suddenly got dry. "Hi." He mumbled though it didn't even sound like he said anything before he cleared his throat. "Hey." He said with a clearer voice.
