For Research Purposes | ✔

BONUS CHAPTER

1 Day of Dating

     Sage wakes and it was all a dream.

     He's sure of it, even though Sam's head is buried in his bicep and he's snoring softly. Sage closes his eyes, thinking about it. About last night. Sam showing up at his door and Sam declaring — everything. All of it. He'd laid everything out on the table and so had Sage and neither of them were walking away from it.

     At least he doesn't think they are. Everything's always a little different in the morning.

     Sage holds his hands up in the air above him. He counts down slowly, bending each finger as he does. He heard somewhere that when you're still dreaming you'll have an extra finger or a finger missing. Not somewhere—Sam. Sam had told him that.

     His are all there. He's awake. This is real. Sam's real and really here, too.

     "Can you stop moving?" he grumbles, tucked underneath Sage's bicep now, his voice mostly muffled by the bed.

     Sage drops his arms, embarrassed, and says quietly, "Sorry."

     "Why are you up? It's early. Go back to sleep."

     "I think it's almost eleven actually," Sage responds, trying to crane his neck without moving so he can see the clock on the stove. The numbers are a smudge in the distance. His vision's getting worse with age.

     Sam shifts beside him, lifting his head and setting it down on Sage's shoulder cap. Sage hasn't looked but he knows Sam's gaze is on him, can feel his hot breath against his face.

     Sage doesn't say anything because he's afraid if he does it'll crumple this whole thing like a house of cards. Instead, he reaches out for Sam, fingers grasping the back of his neck so he can pull him in and kiss him. Kissing him because he's sure last night was a fluke, was a mistake, and he won't be able to do this again.

     Sam pulls away, reaching for Sage's hand on his neck. He doesn't pull it away, just hangs onto his wrist. Sage's stomach plunges because he was right. It was a mistake and Sam's about to say so.

     Only, he goes instead, "I have morning breath. Like worse than usual morning breath. You'd think all the alcohol would've killed the bacteria in my mouth."

     Sage lets out an uneasy laugh. He's panicking for nothing. Sam's here, he's in his bed, he's not going anywhere. Except, maybe...

     "Do you remember last night?" Sage asks, letting go of his neck so he can go back to staring up at the ceiling. His curtains are drawn and they're blocking most of the sunlight in his apartment. The little slivers are bright white. He thinks it might have snowed this morning.

     Sam makes a confused sound. "Uh, yeah? Why wouldn't I? I really wasn't that drunk."

     Sage nods and mumbles, "Oh okay."

     "Why are you being weird?" Sam asks pointedly.

     "I'm not," he insists quickly.

     "You really are," Sam says and then he's pressing his elbow into Sage's arm so he can prop himself up and hover over Sage. "What's going on?" he asks, looking down into his eyes.

     There's really no light in the room and Sam's face is all shadows, including the stubble that's grown in. It looks like it's been a few days since he shaved.

     Sage swallows his nerves and asks, "Was last night real?"

     Sam falters for a second, his eyebrows stitching together. His eyes move left to right like they need to pay focused attention to each side of Sage's face to find out where's the disconnect.