Revamped

twenty three

Josh had never been a fan of the cold.

Well, not the heat, either. What he meant was that he didn't like waking up in the cold. He could almost see his breath.

Shivering slightly, he burrowed deeper under the covers and tightened his arms around the still-sleeping Tyler, who was a bundle of warmth and softness, his breathing slow.

He studied him, noting the way his lashes created a soft fan against his cheeks, which were rosy from the chilly atmosphere of the room. His nose was pink at the tip, too.

Absently, he traced his fingertips down his bare back under the covers, along the ridges of his spine, counting each smooth bump they brushed across. It made him squirm after a moment though, so he stopped, smiling to himself.

Ah, Tyler was so much fun. Last night had been an...experience, that's for sure. Not just for him, but Josh, too. Nothing quite like seeing what you could make somebody do just from your tongue.

A brief image of the small brunette burying his face into the mattress to muffle his moans while he simultaneously arched back into Josh's mouth invaded his mind. It made him still, biting his lip.

But he quickly shook his head, changing his thought train before it could delve any further down that track, and glanced around at the dimly lit apartment to distract himself.

It was cleaner than he remembered, with only a few items of clothing on the floor, and aside from the cold-ass temperature, it was nice.

The walls were a pale eggshell color, scattered with dog-eared posters of bands, and newspaper clippings of random days that Josh didn't understand the importance of. A few sticky notes, reminders, and the odd piece of notebook paper filled with words he couldn't make out from this far.

The armchair was worn, probably something picked up at a garage sale or the like. Overstuffed, a strange cross between green and brown; honestly ugly. But it looked comfortable.

There were various notebooks stacked into the single bookshelf, interspersed with thicker volumes that Josh recognized as psychology novels, even a few Steven King ones.

Surprising, considering how nervous the boy seemed most of the time.

Then Tyler shifted slightly, drawing his gaze back down to see him nuzzling into his bare chest, and he sucked in a slight breath at his cold nose.

Goddamn it was fucking freezing in here. He couldn't stand it.

So he slowly unwound his arms from the smaller boy's frame, sliding out from underneath him and off the bed, leaving him warm and cozy, still sleeping under the thin covers.

Grabbing his shirt from the floor, a white long sleeved tee, he pulled it on over his head and padded to the armchair. It had a quilt draped over the back, so he took that and shook it out, then went back to drape the thick thing over Tyler, who slept on.

Then he paused, gazing back into the kitchen and frowning at the heating vent, which wasn't doing much but looking pretty. Pretty fucking useless, that is.

So he pulled on the rest of his clothes and shoes, took his keys and left, shaking his head as the door closed behind him.

Like he'd said, he'd never been a fan of the cold.

•*•*•*•*•

Tyler woke up slowly, stretching before his eyes were even open and yawning so big it cracked his jaw, making him grimace even though it hadn't really hurt.