Just Too Busy

Too Darn Busy

Written with above song playing in the background.

~~~~~

It was quiet. Too goddamned quiet, if Ross were to describe it.

It wasn't this quiet in the flat before, or at least what the dark-haired man remembered in those wonderful memories he clutched onto to keep himself from going bat-shit insane.

The flat was dark as well, not that Ross noticed until the sun was completely out of the sky, with the moon replacing it in its wake. It wasn't that Ross was lazy to get up and switch on the light when he noticed how dark it had become either. With the mood he was currently feeling, it felt like a good idea to wallow himself in the darkness for a while.

A long sigh escaped his lips as he continued to stare out the window, sitting at the living area of the flat in total darkness, and watching anything and nothing at the same time. He was still dressed in whatever he plucked out of the wardrobe that morning -- navy jeans and a Superdry shirt with a hoodie of the same brand on top. It felt like a total waste to dress into anything other than pyjamas, which sounded like a good idea now that Ross thought about it.

Glancing towards the hallway leading to the front door, the man pursed his lips then finally pushed himself off the comfortable sofa. He trudged towards the bedroom, passing by the doorway leading to the kitchen and realising that he hadn't had any dinner. That was okay, though -- Ross didn't feel like eating anyway.

Entering the bedroom with a slight creak of the door, he flipped on the light switch, instantly regretting it for the bright light blinded him. While his eyes adjusted to the light, eyes squinting to get a hold of himself, he slipped off his hoodie and T-shirt, tossing the latter garment into the laundry basket standing at the corner of the room. He stepped out of his slacks, tossing those into the laundry basket as well, and slipped into his comfortable sky blue pyjama bottoms.

In a slow pace, he brushed his teeth and splashed his face with water in the bathroom, before walking back into the bedroom and switching off the lights, oddly happy to be in total darkness. After blindly locating the bed, he lifted the covers and slipped inside, going back to his own thoughts.

Ross bit his lip as he stared up at the ceiling, or at least what he could make out of it in the dark. He didn't bother to check the time but he assumed that it was very late into the night, and the other wasn't home yet.

When would he ever?

Ross snorted to himself. What was he thinking -- the taller ginger was too busy for him now, seeming to find other excuses to be well away from the dark-haired man. For whatever reason, Ross didn't know. He didn't even want to start guessing the possibilities.

It was strange, really. They worked together, with another much shorter man, named Chris Trott, formed into what made Hat Films. Everything looked and seemed fine to everyone, especially when they were in recording sessions -- joking and laughing together, teaming up to take the piss out of Trott, and even just talking. But, it seemed to just end there nowadays.

Outside of recording sessions, Alex Smith wouldn't talk to him for longer than an exchange of greetings, seeming to ignore him and choosing to give his attention to someone else in the vicinity. When it would just be the two of them, the ginger would find something to occupy his time and attention. Ross didn't know why and he probably would never know why.

Finally having enough of depressing thoughts swimming in his mind, Ross flipped himself onto his left side, forcing himself to sleep.

Smith was just too busy for him now. Just too darn busy.

-----

With a deep breath, Smith slowly and carefully pushed the front door open, precariously fumbling in pulling out the flat keys from the keyhole in the dark. He pushed the door closed with a soft click and gently placing his keys on the table by the door, mindful in not making too much noise to prevent waking up the other man he lived with. After slipping off his shoes and pushing them to the side with his foot, he padded through the hallway into the living room.

The atmosphere in the flat felt odd and a little unwelcome, which he knew he was to blame for. Smith knew he wasn't being the best partner for Ross at the moment.

Biting his lip, he made his way towards the bedroom, expecting Ross to be asleep. The door made a creaking noise as he quietly pushed it open, spotting the dark-haired man curled up on his side on the bed, with the little light coming from the bedroom window. Seeing no response whatsoever from the other man, Alex assumed Ross was already fast asleep, and he quietly slipped inside.

Without making too much of a ruckus, Alex pulled off his shirt, unbuckled his belt, and pushed himself out of his jeans. He washed his face and brushed his teeth by the sink in his boxers, then made his way to the other side of the queen-sized bed.

He stood at the edge of the bed for a while, staring at Ross' duvet-covered back. Smith smiled to himself -- Ross was on Alex's side of the bed, but the ginger didn't mind. Instead, he immediately frowned, having a hunch as to why Ross was like that. It was his fault for not taking care of the other man properly.

Gosh, was he stupid. What was he thinking? Why did he think pushing Ross away was such a good idea? It was random, but he felt like he didn't deserve Ross. Smith didn't know where the feeling came from, but the more he admired Ross -- watched the man laugh and interact with him and other people, seeming to glow even without any light -- the more he felt that Ross was someone who was up there while Alex stood at the bottom. But now, after what Smith had done, it was definite that Ross deserved someone way better than him.

Smith gulped down a heavy lump, feeling like everything was against him, but he knew he deserved it all.

With a loud sigh, he got onto the bed next to the dark-haired man, pulling the other half of the covers over his body. He turned himself to lie on his left, staring into the back of Ross' head and remembering what the other man looked like if Ross were facing him instead.

He wanted to apologise but how could he; it was well into the night, and Smith thought that it was probably too late to apologise to him. He was such a fool.

Nothing else popped into his mind, but Alex thought that maybe Ross wouldn't mind a hug, even if the man was asleep. Smith could give him that, even if he hated hugs himself. It was something Alex could sacrifice for Ross. He would sacrifice anything for Ross.

Finally making up his mind, Alex scooted closer and carefully inched his arms around the shorter man's waist, pulling the latter closer to his chest. He lidded his eyes closed and buried his nose into Ross' dark hair, sniffing in the scent of Ross' shampoo and just the scent of Ross -- the Ross that he loved and missed. The Ross whom he needed to apologise to.

Tomorrow, Alex would apologise. Tomorrow, he would start anew. Tomorrow, things would get better for the both of them. He wouldn't be busy anymore.