What started with a random number (BXB) (GAY)

The last laugh

By the time the first glimpse of sunlight broke through the edges of the curtains, Red and Emory had become entangled. 

Red had fallen asleep on his back on the right side of the bed. Emory, however, had broken the very rule he had set in place. Most of his body was sprawled across Red's.

Emory's head rested on Red's shoulder, his arm draped loosely over Red's chest, along with his knee drawn up against his torso. Red's arm rested around him, keeping him close as his hand gently stroked through his hair. 

Reaching over to the nightstand, he lifted his phone from the table's surface, checking the time. His phone read 5:28 AM, which was when he typically got out of bed to start the day. 

But this time was different. He was willing to stay in this moment for an eternity. 

Although, unfortunately for him, everything in life is ephemeral. 

Emory's eyes fluttered open from the movement, and as expected did not react well to being chest-to-chest with another man.  

As soon as he came to and processed the position he was in, he immediately shot backward as far as he could go, shifting to the edge of the bed and sitting up. "What the fuck? You're lucky I don't break your nose for that shit! We're-- you're a freak," He ranted, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up. "Do you understand? A freak!" 

Red simply chuckled, pushing himself up into a seated position to better prepare himself for the banter that was about to ensue. "You're the one who was on top of me. I stayed on my side of the bed; you just didn't stay on yours. Seems to me like that's your fault." 

Red shrugged and stood up, making his way around the bed before coming to a stop a few inches from Emory. "But hey," He started, cocking his head to the side with a sly grin. "if you wanna try and break my nose, go for it. Be my guest." 

"I might have to take you up on that offer. It's tempting." Emory shifted his weight slightly, forcing his stance to give off the illusion of a more confident demeanor. "You gonna hit me back if I do?" 

"Would that be a dealbreaker? I thought you were fearless. What happened?" Red questioned, crossing his arms over his chest as the grin plastered on his smug expression only broadened. "If you can land a hit on me, I'd be far more impressed than angry." 

"Fuck you. You could hit me back; I wouldn't care. Not like it would hurt," Emory lied through his teeth, rolling his eyes as he clenched his fist by his side. "And I could easily land a hit on you." 

"I gave you a free pass to take a swing. I did not give you a free pass to swear at me. If controlling your mouth is that much of an issue, I'm sure I could think of a few consequences that would get you to stop in less than a week." 

Red didn't get the pleasure of a proper response, but he was instead faced with a right hook aimed at his jaw. 

With a quick step back and extended hand, Red had both effortlessly dodged the incoming punch and had caught his wrist, holding his arm in place. "Come on now, you're telegraphing. I can tell what you're gonna throw before you even know it for yourself." 

"So?" Emory scoffed, tugging his arm back slightly in an attempt to break free from Red's grasp. Red didn't let up just yet, however, instead tightening his hold to something nearly impossible to wriggle out of. "I'll just get less predictable then. Problem solved." 

"It's not just the telegraphing. You're overextending too. When I move back, you reach out instead of stepping into the punch. It throws you off balance." 

"Not even that big of a problem--" Emory started, continuing to try and pull his arm back to his side, despite his efforts beginning to still. 

"I'm not done," Red interrupted, adjusting his grip on Emory's wrist so that it wouldn't cause a bruise. "You drop your left hand, which leaves your face wide open for a counter. If you want to hit me, you're going to have to do better than that."