Internet Infatuation (YouTuber Fanfiction)

Part VII

The Next Day

Joe POV

"You ready to head back, Joe?" Caspar asked, after we left the Digifest building. Today had been full of scheduled and unscheduled meetups alike. Tons of fans, and all of them were amazing people. It was so fun to meet all of the people who came to see Caspar and I.

I was exhausted.

It was already after 6:00pm, getting darker by the minute. I just wanted to lie down in bed with Caspar and watch a movie. It didn't help that last night we spent hours out eating with our friends. Don't get me wrong, it was great catching up with them and all, but the jet lag was killing me.

"Yeah, I can go back. Can we just stay in tonight, Caspar? I'm exhausted," I say, rubbing a hand across the side of my face in a feeble attempt to wake myself up.

"Yeah, no problem man,"he said, slinging and arm around my shoulders and tugging my body closer to his side. I wrapped an arm around his side, copying his gesture, and grinned up cheesily at him. He returned the grin, exaggerating it slightly, but I could detect the realness there as well.

My eyes lingered on his lips, hoping that I could try to regain the full memory of that night, or at least continue where that last one left off. I'm starting to have a decent idea of where that particular memory led, and I approved 100% if it actually existed. I only hoped that if that really was what happened, Caspar didn't mind it, either. "Trying to remember that night?" Caspar asked.

"How'd you know?"

"You have that look of concentration on your face. Your eyes narrow, you lips purse, you eyebrows scrunch together-"

"Alright, I get it," I cut him off with,"But yeah. I thought looking at something familiar would help bring the memories back." That much is the truth, at least.

"I get it. I'm just wondering how much of a couple we look like to anyone who doesn't know us," Caspar says with a smirk evident on his face. I flushed, remembering what we must've looked like, and start to pull away when Caspar just pulls me back, and says,"Relax, I'm just joking. I don't mind at all."

I flashed a reassuring smile, and practically nuzzled my face in the crook of Caspar's neck, effectively making a show. I had to go on my toes to do it, though. Damn my vertically challenged genetics. "Neither do I, Casp, neither do I," I tell him, probably showing my true feelings a little too much, but I didn't care too much at the moment. He smiled nonetheless, though.

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Once we were back in the hotel, I immediately stripped my shoes off and hopped on the folded up couch. Caspar was locking the door up and looking in the kitchen for some food, presumably the leftovers from last night's dinner. "If you're gonna lay in my couch, I'll gladly steal your bed back, Joseph," he said, an almost superior tone to his voice.

"Oh, I'll be back there later. I'm just, ah, borrowing your spot, and searching through these shit channels for a movie," I say, emphasizing my point by thrusting the coffee-table remote into the air after I grasped it in my hand. "You can settle for borrowing my bed for the moment, though," I say through a sigh, though it was a genuine offer. Honestly, if he really wanted to switch, I wouldn't have minded too much.

"I think I'll take you up on that offer," Caspar says, and apparently gives up on finding anything satisfying to eat, as he leaves the kitchen without food. I watch intently as he saunters over to my bed, and pulls the covers down in an almost familiar way.

That's when more of my memory comes back.

I see Caspar pulling my covers down the same as right now, then coming over to me and leading me to the bed in an intimate way, guiding me with a hand in the small of my back. He unbuttons my jeans, and for a second I wonder if we're about to sleep together, when he just guides me into bed afterwards and tucks the top corners of the comforter into the sheets, making me almost unable to leave the bed in my drunken state. I forgot that I always sleep in my boxers and a t-shirt, unless it's hot, in which case I just sleep in underwear. I'm vaguely aware of the flush the creeps across my face, but I'm yearning it see more of the memory before it fades again.

I catch a flash of myself mumbling,"'Sorry about that.'"

Caspar said,"'Trust me, I'm not upset at all, Joe. Now get some rest.'" There was a meek smile on his face, and a major blush, which I had noticed was getting easier and easier to manage with him lately. Was it because of that night? What happened between the first memory and thus one?

I manage to pull one last fragment of a memory;the feeling of someone's-probably Caspar's-thing stroking my cheek in an intimate gesture right before I pass out. After that, it's just blank, empty space that I can't fill.

I almost feel like slamming a hand into a wall. Why can't I remember the rest of it? Why am I only remembering the disjointed parts that don't make sense? Damn it, why did I have to drink so much that night?

But I think the reason I'm most upset it because Caspar lied. He said he saw me go to bed on my own early in the morning, when it was clear he was the one who put me to bed. Why did he have to lie about that, though? Did we do something before that that I don't know about?

Caspar still hasn't noticed, but I only now realized that my reminding journey happened all in less than a second. He was still trying to get comfy in my bed. Like he did for me that night. "Caspar?"

"Yeah?"

"You said you'd tell me the truth about what happened that night, right?" I asked, a testing tone added to my voice.

"Joe, what's this about?" he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled, but his eyes gave away the fact that he had some idea about there this was going.

"Did you..." I trailed off, unsure where to start. "Caspar, did you put me in bed that night?"

He looked hard at me for a second, trying in vain to keep his face straight, the finally says,"Yeah, I did."

"Then why'd you say I went to bed by myself in the early morning?" I asked, trying to make my voice neutral. I admit that I was kind of peeved at the fact that Caspar lied, but at the same time, I was hopeful that he'd just relieve me and tell me what happened.

"Because Tyler and Troye were there, and it's kind of embarrassing to tell them that I tucked my roommate in bed like a mother," he retorts, chuckling as if it were perfectly obvious.

"Couldn't you have at least told me that after the fact?" I asked. "And what happened between when we were on the couch together and when I went to bed-"

"Calm down, Joe, nothing happened," Caspar said, cutting me off mid-sentence. "Jesus, nothing happened that you need to concern yourself with. And I didn't tell, you because, well, I was embarrassed to tell you, too."

This is where he's got me, now. "Why would you be embarrassed to tell me that? I'd do the same for you, any day," I say honestly.

"Really?" he asked, a sliver of astonishment showing in his voice. Is it that surprising? Yeah, I care about you, man. A lot. More than you probably do me. But still, I'd do anything for Caspar.

I got up from the couch, and sat down next to him on the bed, and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Of course. You're my best friend, Casp. I'd do anything for you," I tell him, my voice softened considerably compared to just a minute or so ago. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you. I just... I'm so frustrated, because I feel like something is still missing from that night, something important, and I want to remember. God, I want to remember. I shouldn't have snapped at you, though."

"Hey, it's fine. I get it. Just let me know if you remember anything else,"Caspar says, an unidentifiable emotion showing behind his eyes and voice. Regret? Pity? Empathy? A combination of all three? I decide not to question it, though. "I'm here for you, man."

I nodded, wrapping an arm around him and resting my head on his shoulder. I was ready for a change in conversation at this point, even though I'm the one who brought the topic up. "Come on, let's find a movie to watch," I say, grabbing the other remote next to my bed to flip through channels, as I feel Caspar snake an arm around my shoulders in a one-armed hug.