Ruv couldn't sleep.
This wasn't entirely unusual. Sometimes, he felt like his whole being was simply too full of thoughts and energy in order for him to sleep, especially if stressful things had been happening throughout his day. Occasionally, smoking would calm him down enough for him to get somewhere between one and three hours in, or - even more rarely - he could drink until he blacked out. Given that he didn't have any cigarettes left, the latter option was his only hope for the night.
Carefully, he slipped out of the bed he was sharing with Whitty. He winced as the worn-down springs of the mattress creaked under his weight, but the other man didn't stir, so he continued the trek to the kitchen.
He managed to open and close the door to Whitty's room in complete silence - an ability he was a little proud of himself for learning over the course of too many years slipping past nuns and pastors in hopes of getting onto the church roof. It always felt like a bit of a safe place for him and Sarv, and he couldn't help but reminisce at the memory, even if the thought was only brief.
He continued to quietly make his way through the apartment, only allowing himself to make noise once he got into the kitchen by virtue of being far enough from the bedrooms that he wouldn't be heard. He hummed a small tune to himself - some old religious song that kept getting stuck in his head - as he rummaged through the fridge and freezer in hopes of finding some liquor. Unfortunately, his search was cut short when he heard shuffling behind him followed by a creak in the floorboards, making him flinch. He processed a voice before he could fully turn around to face the noise: an overlaid, but somehow soft noise that flowed effortlessly into his thoughts.
"You can sing?" Whitty asked, briefly locking eyes with Ruv once the man had fully turned around, shutting the fridge behind him. His expression was unreadable, but his voice did something that made Ruv feel almost weak. He hadn't really felt that before - maybe it was just due to the change of scenery. Maybe it was the other's tone.
Ruv hesitated, thinking about his reply for a moment. "...No." It was such a bold-faced lie that he couldn't even take himself seriously, breathing out a tiny laugh as if that would save him in this situation.
Whitty snorted. "I mean, I kinda heard you just now, so I think you can."
"Shut up." He made the executive decision to ignore how he felt his own face heating up.
"I don't think I will."
Ruv opened his mouth to reply, but choked on air when he realized that Whitty had gotten significantly closer. Instinctively, he backed into the fridge behind him, pressing himself against the cold surface that he could faintly feel through the thinner fabric of his sweater, having taken off his coat to sleep. The other man tilted his head to the side a bit, eyes glowing in the dark room and allowing Ruv to once again take in every inch of his playful expression. He felt his stomach twist. What on Earth was going on?
"What're you lookin' for? There's not much in there," Whitty asked, as if nothing had happened at all.
"...Liquor. Vodka, preferably."
The other man's face scrunched up for a moment, though he tried to mask it immediately afterward. "Uh... I don't think you're gonna have any luck - lemme, uh, check."
He reached out his hand before pausing, seemingly forgetting momentarily that Ruv was blocking off the fridge. His eyes almost looked as if they glowed brighter for a moment before he gestured with his head for Ruv to step aside. Quickly, the man followed the unspoken directions, moving out of the way so Whitty could open the fridge.
