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Steve-O wasn't exactly sure how he'd ended up in this position.
Jeff said something about their budget being tight this week. So, he only got one room for the both of them to share. Said that they were close anyway so it didn't matter. That they'd slept next to each other in the van all the time and this shouldn't be any different.
Well fuck dude, this sure felt different than all those times sleeping in the van.
For starters, Chris was a cuddler when he slept. Normally, Steve-O was also a cuddler when it came to being with his pets or any girl that fell asleep with him. But he was so fuckin' worried about how gay this was he couldn't allow himself to sleep. And so now he was stuck with Chris nuzzling his face into his neck all sleepily like a bear cub.
This wasn't the worst situation to be in, but it sure as hell was pretty awkward.
Chris liked to mumble in his sleep, Steve-O found out. Whenever he'd mutter something, the vibrations of his voice would travel all over his skin, making him feel all weird and shivery. Like it was cold and he didn't have any clothes on and all he could do was shiver to keep himself warm. And yet he felt this warmth in his chest every time it happened, and he didn't know exactly why.
Although Chris was very warm against him. To be honest, he was like a big heated blanket that made too much noise. Steve-O hated the way he was kind of liking this arrangement, despite how awkward it was. At least how awkward it was to him, Chris didn't even mind at all.
All he said was, "good night Steve-O" and passed the fuck out all curled up against him. No apology for how he was making him feel or how gay this entire thing was. Of course there wasn't an apology for that, Chris wasn't like that. He was all comfortable with his sexuality or whatever. And Steve-O wasn't, because why should he be?
Why should he be so comfortable with cuddling with his best friend unironically? Why should he feel comfortable about the way Chris's arms were so tightly wrapped around his waist? About the way he'd mutter in his sleep or how he'd twitch occasionally or hug him closer? Why should he feel comfortable with the way deep down he kind of liked it?
God that was so gay, why was he like this? Why couldn't he just be normal like Chris was? So casual about it all. So comfortable with who he was and who he liked and everything. So comfortable cuddling with his best friend regardless of the internalized feelings he had for him he was trying so hard not to show.
Every second spent with Chris was either the best time ever because of how fun it was, or it was nerve wracking because of how much he enjoyed being with him. Because he didn't want to seem all that gay with his best friend, lest he become the laughing stock of the entire show and crew for it. He didn't want anything to be different between any of his friends after all he'd been through with them. So why even bother with his own feelings? It was just a recipe for disaster.
And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that he really liked the way Chris held him. The way his body felt so small in comparison to his grip on him, despite the fact that he was taller. The way his lips just barely brushed the skin of his shoulder and his neck. The way his hands would travel along his back as if they were quietly searching for the rest of him.
It was oddly comforting, and that made him terrified. Because he didn't want to be gay. He didn't want to enjoy this, he wanted it to be weird. Because that's what straight people thought, and he had to be straight. There was no way in hell he could let those feelings slide. They may act gay, but he doesn't know for sure if Chris would actually be fine with it or not.
Chris mumbled again, hugging him even tighter and closer than before. It sure snapped him out of his thoughts for a while. He stared longingly at his friend.
For some stupid reason, Steve-O wondered what he was dreaming about. And for some stupid reason, he wondered if Chris might be dreaming about him.
The possibilities were endless. Maybe Chris could be dreaming about the adventure they had together today. Or he could be dreaming about their time in Alaska. Or he could be dreaming about a new episode idea to come up with. He could be dreaming about frolicking with him in a meadow of flowers for all he knew.
But that was all just in his head, Chris wouldn't dream about him like that. Why would he? That was fucking gay. And sure, Chris was comfortable with talking about stuff like that, but Steve-O knew he wasn't gay. He'd seen the way he would disappear with some random chick at bars and come back with that dopey grin all over his face. The way he would stare at girls from afar all mesmerized by them.
Some stupid part of him just wished Chris would look at him that way. Just once.
All that was just wishful thinking. And fuck, that was so gay. He was just tired, that's all. His tired brain plus the weird position they were both in was obviously an equation for disaster. He just needed to relax and go to bed. He could deal with all of this gay shit never and go back to repressing it as soon as he woke up.
But once again, that was just a stupid fantasy.
Because Chris started mumbling again, and this time it sounded like he was groaning. And he started moving or something. Steve-O was way too sleep deprived to tell if he was grinding on his leg or not. Either way, he was trying really hard to ignore it. If he thought too hard about it things would get even more awkward between the two of them.
"Fuck..." Chris moaned all too close to his ear.
And that was really all that Steve-O needed to understand the situation that was happening right about now. Why the fuck was Chris having a wet dream while cuddling him in this fuckin' hotel bed? This shitty hotel bed that was all too small and all too sexual for the both of them.
Why the fuck did he agree to this? Why the fuck was this happening to him now? God was testing him, wasn't he? Fuck that stupid bastard, why was he doing this to him? Of all the things that Steve-O so desperately tried to hide it had to be this.
He was too fucking tired for this bullshit. If Chris wanted to go jerk himself off in the bathroom he'd just let him. It would save himself all that awkward tension left between them.
And fuck, if he let this go on any longer things might start to feel all weird. In that he was kind of turned on by how Chris was moaning into his neck.
The vibrations started making him feel all warm again. And not to mention the way Chris was grinding on his leg like a dog in heat. Something about it made him feel so sickeningly turned on by it. In ways that he wished he could hide, ways he wished he didn't feel. But he was tired and things like that just slipped through the cracks in the walls he'd built.
Fuck, why did he have to be fuckin' gay? Of all the things why did he have to be gay for his fucking best friend? He hated himself so much for this. So much for all the feelings churning in his stomach. He felt like he was gonna throw up just out of pure nervousness. Like he was backstage before a big performance and everyone's eyes were on him.
"Dude, fuck..don't stop..." he could barely make out what Chris was even saying.
He heard him say dude or something? Which didn't make any sense at all. If Chris was fuckin' some imaginary chick in his mind he wouldn't go and call her dude. At least that's what Steve-O assumed. You wouldn't just call a girl dude, that was like a guy thing.
So was he dreaming about a guy?
The possibility of it didn't sit right in his stomach, and he didn't know why. He should be excited if he was dreaming about a guy, that meant he had somewhat of a chance. That meant Chris wouldn't hate him for who he was. But he just felt so incredibly sick at the thought of it for no real reason in particular.
And if that wasn't the cherry on top of this entire shit show. God he wanted to blow his fucking brains out. He was so sick of God testing him in these stupid ways. And fuck, he had to do something soon. Chris would wake up with jizz all over himself and that would be even worse to explain in the morning.
He just had to wake him up and tell him to go deal with himself in the bathroom. It would be fine if Chris's noises were all muffled through the door. Because they sounded so far away Steve-O could pretend they weren't real. But now they were all on his fuckin' neck and in his ear all loudly and he couldn't pretend this was just a nightmare of his.
He gently shook Chris's shoulders, feeling like a child that was waking his parents up to tell them he threw up. It was so awkward he hated it, and it was all in his head. Chris probably wouldn't even think this was awkward, he'd just laugh it off and walk away like it was nothing. But it was Steve-O who worried so much, who thought about these things and hated himself for it.
"Chris, dude, wake the fuck up." he whispered in the darkness, shaking him harder now to wake him up.
Chris rolled off of him, making several confused noises as if he didn't know what was happening.
Of course he didn't know what was happening, he was just having a fucking gay wet dream while cuddling his best friend. Before said best friend so rudely interrupted his slumber to tell him to go fuck off to the bathroom to deal with the situation in his pants.
"Jesus, how the fuck did you move so fast?" he asked in his groggy morning voice.
Steve-O hated the way he shuddered at the noise, trying to repress every single thought that occurred in his mind about it. Because fuck, if he thought about it too hard he'd forget why he woke Chris up in the first place. And fuck, if he thought about it too much he'd probably get a fuckin' boner over it. Chris was so effortlessly hot to him and he would rather die than admit that to anyone.
"I didn't even move at all. You were saying weird shit in your sleep so I woke you up thinking you were having a nightmare or something." he tried his best to keep his cool.
He couldn't let Chris know that he heard all those sinful noises and how he actually liked it a lot. How he felt this weird feeling in his stomach at the way Chris's erection poked at his thigh. That was way too gay, and he was totally straight.
"What are you talking about? You were literally just sucking my dick, dude." Chris squinted at him in the darkness.
And thank fuck it was dark because Steve-O was so red over what Chris just said to him. He felt like his face was on fire and his hands were so sweaty and gross and fuck... God why did this have to happen to him? Why did Chris have to say that in that fucking voice of his that was all deep and so utterly mesmerizing to him?
He couldn't even think of what to say after that, he was frozen like a deer in the headlights. I mean, what could he fucking say to that? His best friend just said he had a dream about him sucking his dick. And for some fucking reason he was so into it. He wanted to play along with it so bad, but that would be so weird.
He was straight, he wasn't gay. He had to repeat this in his mind or else he'd forget it and make a stupid decision and fuck everything up.
And then Chris blinked away his foggy memory. He looked like he suddenly realized that he'd fallen asleep and that all was some weird dream he had. A sexual fantasy about his own best friend, who just heard him admit that it was about him. Fuck.
"No fuckin' way...was that a dream? Holy shit, it felt so real." Chris quickly detached himself from Steve-O, scooting back as far he could in the tiny ass bed they were sharing.
Steve-O watched as Chris rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He watched carefully as he sighed, his head in his hands due to the embarrassment of it all. He didn't even know what to say to that. Should he comfort him and tell him he didn't mind? Should he ask more about the dream? Should he just pretend it never happened and tell Chris he'll give him some privacy? Fuck, he didn't know what to do, he was panicking.
And so of course the first thing he said was the thing he desperately tried not to say.
"You were... You were dreaming about me? About me sucking your dick?" Steve-O felt like he was salivating way too much at the idea.
He needed to calm down, his heart was already racing too much. And it was beating so hard in his ears he felt like in this silence even Chris could hear it. And the fucked up thing was that he liked it. He liked feeling excited about this, about Chris feeling at least something for him.
"I mean, I... I don't. I didn't...It's...fuck." Chris embarrassingly tried to explain himself.
And yet, despite all his nerves screaming that this was such a bad idea, Steve-O had this crazy thought pop into his head. For year's he's hidden how he truly felt behind all those jokes. And with how tense it was now, he hated it. Their jokes always eased any sort of tension before, so this shouldn't be any different. He would just say what he meant but in joking way, in hopes to lighten the mood.
"I mean, it was kind of hot. You were all like... Moaning in my ear and stuff." he felt himself laugh, despite his stomach churning as if he were about to throw up due to anxiety.
Chris looked at him through his fingers, trying to read his intentions through his expressions and mannerisms. He was kind of good at reading Steve-O now, just because of how long they'd been friends like this. Sometimes he didn't even need to say anything for Chris to understand what he meant.
"Yeah? You uh... You didn't...think it was weird or anything?" he cautiously replied.
His entire body screamed at him to say yes, to tell Chris he was creeped out and wanted to go so that all this fucking tension would just disappear and he didn't have to face his own emotions. He wanted to tell Chris that he didn't like it, even if he really did. He wanted to lie like he always had, because he was a coward and always will be when it came to this stuff.
But something else had allowed him to look Chris dead in the eyes and shake his head no.
Something in him had allowed himself to finally admit that about himself, that he didn't think Chris wanting to fuck him was weird. That deep down in his mind and in his soul he actually liked it. That he actually wanted it, as weird as that was.
He swallowed thickly, trying really hard not to let the bile in his stomach rise up and vomit all over himself and Chris and their bed. That would be such a mood killer, and he didn't want that at all.
"Oh, well uh.. That's...that's good..." Chris nodded at him, curling up on himself to try and hide his obvious boner.
Chris noticed the way Steve-O looked at him, like he was restraining himself from either leaving or saying something. Maybe he really did think it was weird and was only saying no as to not hurt his feelings. Anyone would say that to their friend who just had a wet dream about them, of course.
"So was I like... Good? In your dream?" Steve-O felt like he was a running faucet and he didn't know how to stop.
Now that he'd finally admitted one thing it was like a jenga tower, everything was fucking falling apart. All those feelings and thoughts were all gonna be revealed after years and years of repressing them. Even before he'd met Chris he'd been repressing how he felt. Everything was gonna come crashing down.
Chris chuckled at that, "So self centered. And yeah, you were really good."
Oh so Chris was playing that game back at him, wasn't he? The teasing and those fucking words of his. God it made Steve-O want to rip his skin off and bleed to death. He shouldn't even be saying these things to him. This didn't even feel real, what the actual fuck was happening right now?
"Glad to hear that I'm good at sucking dick in your dreams, man." all he could do was smile awkwardly.
And that awkwardness was so unlike them, that the two of them started laughing. Such a strange experience was so crazy and unheard of that there wasn't anything else to do but laugh. They always laughed at dumb stuff, that was their job.
And Steve-O loved Chris's laugh. It came straight from his chest, a laugh that was strong enough to make any sad person immediately happier. Because it was so him, and he was so insufferably perfect all the time. Always able to make everyone laugh, always able to lighten the mood.
God he was so incredibly in love with his best friend. And the realization of that fact was enough to get him to stop laughing. Because fuck, he really was gay. A whole ass faggot. Jesus Christ...
Chris caught on on this and stopped laughing too, wondering why Steve-O looked so scared and conflicted. Like he wanted to say something further about the topic but was afraid. How silly of them to be afraid of telling each other how they felt. They could walk around naked and pretend to be gay all over the world, but when it came down to it the both of them would rather die than admit their feelings.
The silence washed over them like a tsunami wave. Neither of them knew what to say after admitting all of that. And it was weird, because they were both usually really good at not having awkward silences like this. The two of them could talk each other's ears off for days, weeks even. Yet now it was just...off. Both of them hated that, that their feelings and all that sexual tension made everything feel different now.
"So.." Steve-O started out, awkwardly playing with his hands.
He didn't know where to start. He'd already forgotten the reason why he woke Chris up. Something like to get him off of him before he started liking it too much. Oh yeah, to tell him to go and deal with himself in the bathroom.
But now that their feelings were kind of out there for them both to think about, it felt weird to ask him to do that. For some odd reason Steve-O felt this obligation to touch him now that he knew Chris felt the same about him. Like he wanted to satisfy his needs, to be there for him. Or whatever that meant.
Was that gay? Well actually that was probably the last of Steve-O's worries right about now. He already knew he was kinda gay or something. At least enough to like the way Chris was grinding on him earlier. So it was already established that he was kinda fruity, and that Chris also was. But... There was still that fear.
And Steve-O was so lost in his own thoughts and worries of how to go around asking or doing this sort of stuff, he didn't even realize the way Chris started leaning closer and closer. And he didn't even realize it until Chris was inches away from his face, looking at him with those bedroom eyes of his that were downright irresistible.
"So?" Chris purred, eyes flickering down to his mouth.
"I...uh..." Steve-O trailed off, feeling way too turned on to even verbalize his incoherent thoughts.
All that he ever wanted to do now was to kiss him. Every fibre of his being was screaming to break the space between them, to just lean in and let go of all those worries and that self hatred from before. To kiss his own best friend and enjoy it, to embrace the fact that he wanted to kiss his friend. That this wasn't wrong of him to long for, to yearn for.
And so when it was Chris who had broken that wall down, and leaned in to kiss him, Steve-O didn't even wait to kiss back. Almost immediately he was returning the intensity, his hand curled up on Chris's shoulders as he held himself in place.
By God was it amazing. Steve-O had never kissed another guy before, or at least not like this. Sure, he's had his handful of accidental kisses with his friends or dares over the years. But he'd never kissed another man with such passion, such sex driven force behind the kiss.
He wanted to drown in the feeling, wanted nothing more than the feeling of Chris's rough kiss against his lips. He couldn't help the noise that escaped his throat as he melted against his touch. The whimper he made when Chris had pushed him down onto their shitty hotel bed. The way his eyes fluttered shut as Chris pulled away and immediately started attacking his neck with bites and kisses.
With one hand curled in Chris's messy head of hair, the other was pinned down onto the bed by Chris's hand gripping his wrist tight enough to leave bruises. But he didn't care, the pain he felt right now was all too good. Because it was Chris who was hurting him, and he loved him with every cell in his body. He didn't care if Chris had planned to rip his guts out, anything he did would be unbearably hot to him.
"God, you're so hot." he whispered breathlessly as Chris kissed down his collarbone.
He felt the vibration of his laugh against his own skin. It made him shiver again, he felt so fucking turned on by him it was incredible that he was even conscious right now.
"Yeah? You think so?" Chris hummed right before kissing his Adam's apple.
And fuck, did that feel otherworldly. Like heaven and earth had collided right then and there. Because fuck, that voice of his was so sickeningly hot. So unbearably perfect it made him want to punch Chris because it was unfair how amazing he was sometimes. And he needed to punch him to just know he was real and could feel pain like he could.
He felt Chris's hand trailing downwards, the intense grip on his wrist losening with it. Ghosting over sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps behind. Hands rest perfectly on his lower body, right before his V line had started. And there was nothing more in the world that Steve-O had ever wanted than for Chris to just fucking move and touch him already.
He felt like such a needy bastard for it but he didn't even care. He was utterly obsessed with Chris and it didn't even matter anymore. All he wanted was to be used by him. To be completely vulnerable underneath him and have little control. Fuck, he wanted Chris to make him bleed, to make it hurt. Because if it hurt he would remember it, and if it hurt he would believe it was real.
Hands frantically unbuttoned his pants, sliding them down with ease.
He'd been naked in front of Chris all the time. Be it for work, or when it was too hot to wear anything. They'd showered together so many times before.
And yet this felt different.
Obviously it was different, Chris was undressing him with the intent to fuck him. And he liked it, loved it even. Loved how eager he was, breaths hot against his collarbone as Chris admired his body.
"Fuck..." he panted.
His boxers had been pushed down to his ankles, leaving him completely vulnerable underneath him. Goosebumps immediately formed on his body, yet with every gentle touch from Chris's hands they'd disappear. He wanted to melt in his arms like chocolate, all sticky and sweet.
"You don't know how long I've waited for this." Chris mumbled against his neck, hands massaging his inner thighs.
The whimper elicited from Steve-O's throat sounded so heavenly to him. There really wasn't anything better than having the most ethereal boy whimpering for your touch like that. And how easily he came apart under his hands. Chris hadn't even touched him and he was throbbing and moaning for him. He wanted to savor this moment like it was the last thing he'd ever do. As though once this was all over he'd just up and die. He wanted to make it last.
One hand came up towards Steve-O's throat, the other eagerly palmed at his cock. The choked gasps for air made it all worthwhile, and the downright sinful look in the taller's eyes made Chris feel shivers run up his spine. Eyes lidded, mouth agape with drool and want dripping from it, the pinkest blush on his adorable little face. It was like staring into the eyes of an angel descended from heaven to show Chris what perfection looked like.
He felt Steve-O slightly rut against his palm, like a sinful dog on heat. A mutt whimpering and begging for his release and being so desperate for anything. His whimpers grew more high pitched, and as much as Chris wanted to see him cum right then and there, he restrained himself. He had to make it fun for the both of them, after all. How could it be fun fucking him later if he'd already came?
Hands retracted as quickly as they'd been attached, and through the darkness Chris could see faint bruises on the sides of Steve-O's neck. He took pride in those. Tomorrow there would be evidence of what he'd done. And tomorrow he'll never let Steve-O live it down.
The taller coughed and gasped for air, Chris's gentle voice soothing him back into steady breathing.
"I knew you'd like that. Such a slut, aren't you?" Chris purred, nipping at the skin right under his earlobe.
Steve-O didn't respond, brain too full of mush and unholy thoughts to even form a type of coherent noise. He just panted as he tried to regain his breath, eyes looking over at Chris with such longing and yearning.
It hurt, being brought so close so soon only to be told to calm down. He wasn't one to drag things out longer than they should be. He would just get his minute of pleasure and be done with it. Chris made things so painful, and he hated the way it made his heart race in excitement.
"I'm gonna fuck you now, okay? Doubt you want any lube, a slut like you probably likes the pain, hmm?" Chris loomed over him in their tiny little bed, voice so unbelievably erotic that Steve-O felt like he was having a wet dream instead of this being reality.
The taller nodded eagerly, desperate for anything to happen. He didn't care if it hurt, if it was gross, if it was gay. He just wanted him. Wanted Chris inside of him, wanted his hand on his neck again, wanted to be hurt by him. Steve-O wanted so much, he didn't even know where to begin.
And he was too caught up in his sexual fantasies and desires to even process that Chris had already slipped a condom on and was lining up against his entrance. He was just so fucking needy. Like he was in heat and there was nothing else in his mind but the desire to be fucked.
As most other things did, Chris's cock slid into his ass fairly easily. Turns out shoving things up your butt for a living works wonders when you're trying to have gay sex with your best friend. But the pain did sting just a little bit. Poor little angel, he looked like he had tears in his eyes.
"Fuck... Fuck." was all Steve-O could say.
Because he just lost his ability to say anything other than fuck and Chris's name. That was all he cared about right now. The feeling of simply being filled up by him was truly ethereal. Like he'd just died because of the heat from this fuckin' room and this was what the gates of heaven felt like to him.
"God you feel so fucking good around me." Chris sharply inhaled against his neck, hot and ragged breaths burning against his skin.
The praise was appreciated. He felt useful to him, satisfied that Chris was enjoying himself just as much as he was. In all honesty, he'd hate for Chris to only be doing this for him, he wanted to see him enjoy it. Wanted to hear those low groans of his, feel his nails digging into him. Fuck, he was so turned on by everything happening right now it felt like he was gonna explode.
Chris's hands held Steve-O's waist with such a strong grip it felt like he could scarcely move. And he loved how strong Chris was. How he could make him feel so small, pin him down, make him useless. Silently, he hopes the grip Chris has on his waist is so tight it leaves bruises tomorrow.
Without warning, Chris snapped his hips, thrusting deeper into him. The pain felt akin to being shocked by that electric eel. It burned, stung. He couldn't help but yelp at that, hands instinctively holding onto the back of Chris's neck.
But like... It felt really fucking good. Steve-O was never into having girls hurting him during sex, but this was Chris. And he'd always fantasized about him like that. Having him shove him up against any surface and taking him right then and there. Having him punch him, using the blood from his busted lip as lube. Steve-O repressed all of that, but it seemed like his fantasies weren't too off with the way he was acting.
It was as if Chris couldn't restrain himself now that he was inside him. All he wanted to do was just fuck him senseless. Have Steve-O crying and begging under him. Have his nails clawing against his shoulders, choked whimpers against his neck.
He sloppily thrust into him again, trying to get a feel for it. Holding Steve-O's waist in place so the taller didn't try to squirm against him. Even though he thought the idea was enticing. Chris was still just trying to drag this out as long as he could to savor it. If Steve-O squirmed against him and rutted against his cock like that, he probably wouldn't last.
"Faster, p-please." the taller managed to whine out.
So he complied, only because he asked so nicely. And because he sounded so cute when he said it.
He loved hearing him beg, he realized he liked it a lot more when they were like this. That whiny voice of his when he wouldn't get his way. When he'd beg Chris not to get too close to that scary animal, or to bring a snake near him. He always thought it was cute, turns out it was much cuter when he was begging to be fucked.
Steve-O curled into his touch like the good slut he was, back arching for more access as Chris fucked him. Breaths hot and heavy and whimpers and moans so soft and adorable against Chris's shoulder. Hands desperately grabbing at something, anything. Feeling like he was free falling out of a plane and Chris was his parachute.
He was close again, of course he was. Steve-O wasn't really the guy to drag these things out after all. And how could he not feel this way when it was Chris fucking him like that?
"G-gonna cum, Chris." he whined, biting his lip as Chris sped up impossibly faster.
His cock hit all the right spots deep in him. And his hands were so tight on his waist, and his teeth were biting his neck. Everything felt so fuzzy, like there was nothing left in this world but chasing after his release. He couldn't fucking take it, it was so surreal that this was happening right now.
Tears sprung from the tallers eyes, mouth agape as he felt his climax wash over him. Loud and unholy moans echoed against Chris's skin, face buried deep into his shoulder. Nails digging into toned skin, grip so tight his wrists shook. He'd always been taller than Chris, but it was this moment where he felt so incredibly small.
His breaths shuddered, heart beating so loud it echoed in his eardrums. Gentle kisses planted on his neck as he came down from his high. Tears falling down his cheeks as he caught his breaths.
"You're so hot moaning my name like that." Chris purred, wiping a few stray tears from Steve-O's eyes.
Steve-O whined again, feeling Chris pull out of him. It was such an uncomfortable feeling, all sticky and empty.
"Couldn't help it." Steve-O managed out, a lopsided grin on his face.
Chris just laughed, kissing him once more.
-----
The shorter rolled over in his sleep, patting their bed in search of his best friend.
A low groan escaped his throat as he squinted through the faint lighting coming from their bathroom. There was a silhouette of someone in the doorway, and a faint gasp at the sight of Chris awake. Or... Barely awake.
"Sorry. Had to piss." Steve-O apologized in a hushed whisper.
He bit the skin off right under his fingernail. It was a habit he hadn't seen since he was a high schooler. Why the hell was it coming back now?
" 's fine. Come back to bed." Chris mumbled into the pillow.
And well, Steve-O didn't have to be asked twice.
He flicked the lights off and slid back into bed with his best friend. Curling up under the warmth of his embrace and nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck. He smelled like home, safe and warm and everything Steve-O needed. In a way, Chris was his home. He never felt safe until he spent those nights talking about life and shit with Chris.
Hands gently soothed circles into his back, Chris's touches gentle and tender even if he was half asleep. The effort was appreciated though. Steve-O simply gave him a gentle kiss on the jaw in his sleepy state, grinning at the way he felt Chris smile in the darkness.
"I love you." Steve-O whispered lowly, so sure that Chris wouldn't hear it.
But to his surprise, he felt Chris hug him closer.
"Love you too."