YOU [Tonick] H.H. #1

45.

The night fell careless and so cold, like a warm blanket ready to replace the cold of the body and at the same time invisible, unwilling to protect it. The night magnifying glass plastered on the white frosted coal roof illuminating the California city, engulfed in a battle with the city lights, watched the streets like an omnipotent eye. The temporary inhabitants of the Austin home were forced to go to their respective rooms. They had all sunk into incurable fatigue; the day had passed in a vast and dangerous way, an afternoon full of many emotions and feelings that soon caused a beastly impact, like a nuclear bomb, in their nostalgia.

The only son of the family was in his room, in which he had lived throughout his school days, sheltered under the duvets that were spread over his body and prepared to wait for the next morning between unexpected dreams. But the nocturnal messages that his now frizzy-haired boyfriend sent him every minute, kept him awake, so much so that he could fall into the arms of Morpheus in an inaccurate second.

He sighed in defeat, writing the following message:

"We'd better continue tomorrow, now that my parents know 'bout our relationship, it'll be easier for us to act without pretending."

"Honestly, I was very scared of what they might've said 'bout us. I wasn't so focused on my squares; sorry I didn't help you a lot when you faced them, my lil bear :("

He smiled slightly; the truth was that Tony had been his moral compass to carry out the conversation with his parents. But if he discussed that now, they both knew the dialogue would drag on and the night was long enough to be wasted like that.

"Don't worry; we'll talk 'bout that tomorrow. For now, let's go to sleep."

"Okay, sweet dreams, my love."

The heart that jumped at the end of the sentence, made his chest flutter.

"Good night, Antonio."

And with one last message from a sleepy, cartoonish face, he dumped his phone on the nightstand to his left, rolled his scrawny body to the side of the bed, and closed his eyes as he waited for the night to rush by.

His eyes had been burning uncomfortable since they finished lunch, and it was to be expected: the trip to his parents' house, the circumstances and events that had arisen, the nostalgic reunion, the rebellion of the truth, the approval of his parents, the jingling doubts after the truth, and among other factors had turned into a daunting exercise routine that caused his short muscles to sag and his active energy to sap.

But now they were finally in California. They were finally united, like a true family.

Minutes, like clouds, passed. The walnut door to his room made an almost inaudible, squeaky sound, suddenly. A small scandal that condemned his six senses to keep a close watch, since he had never before come to think that ghosts lived in his house too.

His theory was urgently contradicted when he heard the drumming footsteps running across the carpet toward his bed, and he felt thick, warm hands wrap around his body as a familiar weight sank to the empty side of the mattress, inviting himself to sneak inside of the quilts.

The hot breath that rose on his neck caused his defined vanilla body to shudder gently.

"Take it easy, babe," Tony whispered with the greatest possible subtlety, accommodating his worked body behind him, "It's me, I came to make you company."

"Of course I know who's behind me, you idiot" He growled lightly, his eyelids still closed and his heart beginning to pound desperately, he suddenly craved for the dancer's hands to travel all over his body. "Why did you come to sleep with me? This is not a fucking sleepover, my parents expressly ordered us to sleep in separate bedrooms, what are you doing here? Did you come to put us in trouble?"