Noah stands at the foot of the sun-drenched bed, staring down at it.

It’s big, bigger than any bed he’s slept in before. Overflowing with thick, soft, downy blankets that look like they’re woven from clouds. Enough pillows that the bed would be like a nest if its contents were arranged the right way. Glowing sunlight spills down on every corner of it, into every little nook and fold, but Noah is certain that he’d be crawling into cool sheets. The way bedding feels when the world is still dark in the morning.

The bed is a haven of sublime coziness. Noah half expects it to rock gently if he climbs in, like a bed on a houseboat set adrift. He’s enchanted by it, drawn in so close that his knees are nearly touching the edge.

It looks like a dream of perfect happiness. It looks like heaven.

Noah wants so badly to get in. He’s overcome with deep rage and exhaustion, feels like he’s been sleeping in a beat-to-shit sleeping bag on hard asphalt for as long as he can remember. His head hangs so heavy. His entire body is aching, crying out for rest.

He thinks back to when he was a kid, to those days when he’d wake up and find heaps of freshly fallen snow around his house. He and Noelle would sleepily go downstairs in their pajamas, where their mom would be watching the news in the blue darkness of dawn. The weatherman would announce a snow day, all schools closed.

Noah would go upstairs, get back into bed, and sleep so good, knowing that when he woke up again it would be nothing but rolling through the snow, laughter and shouting in the streets. Hot chocolate, video games, movies.

Noah is pretty sure he would sleep like that, if he got in this bed.

He knows that he doesn’t deserve it, that it wasn’t made for him. Still, he wants more than anything to get in. It looks so welcoming, like it’s specifically waiting for him.

He reaches out a hand, then stops, his heart suddenly battering his ribs.

An onslaught of fear seizes hold of him. The bed is way, way too good to be true. Noah wonders what’s lurking beneath the surface. If he gets in, he might realize that the mattress is stuffed with a thousand sharp points, a thousand knives standing upright. It might wait until he’s settled deeply into it, gotten comfortable - then swallow him whole, tear him apart. He doesn’t know if he’d be able to make it out again. If he’d survive it.

Even if there were other people here to help him, he has a horrible feeling that nobody would. It’s not that they wouldn’t hear him screaming for help. It’s that they wouldn’t care enough to even turn around.

Or... the whole bed might disappear. Turn out to be nothing. The soul-crushing disappointment of that - it's actually the worst out of all the possibilities.

Noah stares at the bed, torn. Desperate to get in, afraid to get in.

Paralyzed with indecision. Motionless. He just stands there and stands there, internally ripping himself apart.

The bed starts to drift away. Noah can’t bring himself to move, to go after it, to even reach out and try to grab it. Even that feels too dangerous.

But now he’s left with nothing, with an endless emptiness that slips in behind his ribs and stays there, emptiness taking up all the space where something warm should be, until he's choking on it, until he would do anything to relieve the pressure in his chest, until he's sure that he just let something vital and life-giving slip away from him…

Noah vaults upright, gasping, his legs tangled in the sheets on his bed. He looks wildly around at the room, not sure where he is.

When he realizes he’s at Raj’s house, he flops onto his back again, breathing hard, and runs a hand through his hair.

At least he’s dreaming again. That’s something. At Ralph’s place he slept very lightly, anxiety keeping him near the surface. Or so thoroughly knocked out by coming down off an extended high that he sank right past whatever dreams might have been waiting for him.

He stares up at the ceiling, getting his breath back. He keeps forgetting where he is, waking up. Today it was the sheets that threw him off. Ever since he moved into Raj's place, he'd been sleeping on the bare mattress, with only a pillow. Raj was baffled when he realized. He assumed that Noah had sheets, but that wasn’t one of the things he thought to grab when he was frantically stuffing his shit into a backpack at Ralph’s house.

Yesterday - the day after Raj found out - he showed up with a spare set of his own sheets. They smell like he does, like freshly-worked wood, like beeswax and oil finishes. Warm and reassuring.

Noah likes the scent that clings to them. It makes it easier for him to fall asleep. Reminds him that he’s not at Ralph’s place anymore.

He rolls over and buries his face into the soft sheets, taking deep breaths.

There’s a faint cinnamon scent mixed in, a trace of perfume. From Raj’s fiancée, presumably. That smells nice, too, but for no reason Noah can explain, the thought makes him feel - kinda like - crestfallen, in some weird way.

He slips out of bed and digs some clothes out of his backpack. Goes to the mirror to get his hair up into a bun.

He meets his own gaze, thinking about Raj. His dark brown eyes are always so wholeheartedly bright and open, warm enough to make anyone melt into his hands. Shit’s like - adorable, honestly.

By comparison, Noah’s grey eyes look hard and metallic, closed off. He wonders if they look that way to Raj, too. He hopes not.

At least the bruises and swelling around his mauled eye have gone down. Still there, though. The last traces.

He pads silently downstairs.

The house is empty, except for some stray power tools and cans of paint. A blank slate in every way.

Noah steps out into the backyard and discovers that it's still early. The dew and mist from dawn are still there, the summer sunlight not warm enough yet to burn them off. The mist furls gently around Noah as he sits down on the cold concrete path lining the back of the house.

The yard is a big square of empty dirt, but Noah can see the trees in the neighbor’s yards sway in the soft breeze. Big green leaves, droplets tumbling from them as the mist gets caught there. Beyond the canopies, a few birds soar distantly through the sky.

Noah lights up a cig. He sits still, smoking slowly, watching the rosy sunlight grow stronger. Trying to shake off his dream. Trying not to think about how he’ll be done rewiring Raj’s house very soon.

He startles, looks up sharply as the door opens. Warm, happy surprise unfolds in his chest as Raj steps outside, two iced coffees in his hands.

“Hey!” he says brightly, his gaze finding Noah in the early light. “There you are, man!”

His soft black curls are disorganized, sleep-tousled. He’s wearing boardshorts and a loose-fitting Da Hui tank top. His clothes are a little rumpled, like he rolled out of bed, grabbed the first thing he saw, and came straight here.

Deep brown eyes smiling, as always.

An immediate flood of affection melts through Noah’s chest. He only just met Raj, really, so he doesn’t know why the fuck this keeps happening. Raj has him on some kind of emotional speed-dial that he’s very unused to. The slightest touch of warmth from him sets off a whole chain reaction in Noah. Bursts of serious fondness and affection that he doesn’t even know what to do with.

He sincerely hopes that Raj can’t tell, that it doesn’t show. He hastily turns to face forward again, stubbing out the cig.

Raj stops at Noah’s side, offers him one of the coffees. Noah reaches up to take it, caught by surprise. One glance at the cup tells him that it’s full of milk and sugar, but the gesture still makes him feel weirdly touched, weirdly happy. They've only gotten coffee together once or twice, so it makes sense that Raj would get it wrong. Honestly, just that he did it at all -

“Oh, hang on.” Raj plucks the coffee back out of Noah's hand. “That’s mine. Here’s yours.”

He hands Noah the other cup, which is full of iced black coffee. Noah slowly takes it, suddenly biting back a smile.

Raj drops down to sit next to him. He drapes one arm over his knees, his dark curls waterfalling a little into his angular face. All the razor-sharp lines of his features pick up the growing sunlight, creating soft, velvet shadows along each hard line.

He sat down much closer than Noah would normally like. But for some reason it doesn’t bother him, with Raj.

“Thanks, man,” Noah says, taking a sip of his coffee. “How much do I owe you?”

Raj narrows his eyes, confused. “For what?”

Noah leans slightly towards him in an are you serious kind of way, and Raj’s eyes flit to the coffee.

“Oh. Um. Nothing? Just have it, dude.”

“No, c’mon, let me-”

“You need it, man. You look tired.” Raj peers into Noah’s eyes, concerned. “You sleeping okay in that room? Anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

Noah stares at Raj, struggling to come up with something to say. It’s strangely difficult for him to think and look at Raj at the same time. Something about the way Raj smiles at him.

“No, I - it’s fine.” Noah tears his gaze away from Raj, takes a very long sip of coffee. “Just had weird dreams last night.”

“Oh, yeah?” Raj says, with genuine-sounding interest. “What about?”

Noah wasn’t expecting follow-up questions, and again, he doesn’t know what to say. He fidgets silently with his lip piercing. Raj waits a beat, then shrugs his shoulders.

“You don’t have to tell me, s’alright. Maybe we should get you, like - a blanket, or something? You’ve only got sheets right now, yeah?”

“Nah, don’t worry. It’s all good.” Noah pauses, allows himself a longer look at Raj. The deep sienna color of his skin is a little darker around his eyes. “You look tired, too.”

“Ah… yeah.” Raj folds his calloused hands around his coffee, nibbles his lip, and looks back at Noah. “Tell you the truth, I was up kinda late last night thinking about you, because-”

Noah's heart is suddenly beating in his ears like the bass in a car with really good speakers. A high-velocity dopamine rush cuts off his breathing mid-inhale. He stares blankly at Raj, his coffee lifted halfway to his mouth.

Raj keeps talking, gesturing at Noah, at himself, at the house - then stops. Waits for a minute. Noah has no idea what for.

“Um…” Raj tips his head to the side, his eyes anxious. “Is that a no?”

It hits Noah like a lightning strike that he didn’t hear a fucking word Raj said after I was up kinda late last night thinking about you.

He’s startled, extremely thrown off by the intensity of the reaction he had to it. He’s not sure what the hell is going on with him, lately. Something about being around Raj is way fucking different than being around any friend Noah’s had before. He likes it - a lot - but it’s completely new to him, and he’s not used to it at all.

Raj’s shoulders sink, his brown eyes blinking rapidly.

“Listen, Noah,” he says earnestly, “This is totally up to you. If you want to say no, I respect that. Don’t feel bad, okay?”

“I - sorry, man.” Noah clears his throat, trying to pull himself together. “Coffee hasn’t hit me yet. What’d you say?”

“Oh!” Raj instantly looks relieved. “I thought you just - okay, well, I was saying that - are you listening, this time?”

“Yeah."

Raj pokes at his ear. “This thing on?”

Noah laughs, swatting Raj's hand away. “Just say your piece, bro, my god-”

“Okay, okay - I was - asking…” He hesitates, like he didn’t already just ask whatever it was two seconds ago. “I know that I said you could stay here while you fixed the wiring, and I know that you’re almost done with it, but…”

Noah’s heart, which had shot up into his throat, now drops all the way down to his feet. He knows where this is going. He had been both expecting and bracing himself for this, but still, shit hurts.

“I was thinking,” Raj says slowly, “That maybe-”

“It’s okay, man," Noah quickly cuts in. He doesn't want to hear Raj say it. "I get it. I’ll be out by tonight.”

“You - what?” Raj’s brown eyes widen with alarm. “Why?”

Noah blinks at him, confused. “Weren’t you gonna say-?”

“Oh - no, dude, no!” Raj looks flustered, caught off-guard. “I was gonna say that I was hoping you would think about staying longer, helping me with more than just the power. I have so much work left to do on this house. If you could help me with even one or two more things, that would go such a long way.”

For a good long moment, Noah seriously wonders if he misheard Raj, or misunderstood somehow.

“You want me to stay longer?”

“Yes,” Raj says, immediately and emphatically. “I could really use your help, and - honestly, I’m just having a lot more fun with you around, Nohea. You make it a lot more fun.”

Noah tries to detach himself from the slow-building wave of happiness that’s gathering in him. There must be a catch, a hidden motive, a mistake, something…

“I’m an electrician, man,” he hears himself tell Raj. “Construction is your thing. I know my way around a toolbox, but I’ve never built anything.”

“I’ll show you, though! We’ll do it together. I know it’ll all come out cherry, in the end.” Raj stops, chewing his lip, then pins on: “I’d really like it if you stayed.”

Noah is sitting motionless, but reeling internally. He has no idea how the fuck Raj can so easily open up about what he wants, what he’s thinking.

And Noah doesn’t know what to say. He promised himself he was going to keep people at arm’s length from now on, where they can’t get close enough to cut him. He’s… not been super good about that, with Raj, and they haven’t even known each other for that long. It actually might be better, safer for him to just go.

But Noah has finally found himself a tiny bright point of happiness, and the idea of turning his back on it feels all kinds of wrong -

Raj startles Noah to hell and back by taking one of his hands and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Please?” he says, his deep brown eyes looking right into Noah’s.

Noah automatically pulls his fingers free, and Raj easily lets them go. But Noah is having a much harder time tearing his gaze away. That hastily-suppressed wave of happiness that rose in him at the thought of being offered - no, being asked to stay longer - Noah can tell exactly how fucking good it would feel to just stop fighting it, let it break over his head.

He has to go when the fiancée and baby show up anyways, right? So maybe he can do this without getting too attached to Raj, given that he already knows that there’s a clock ticking down on their friendship. If he just goes in knowing that it’s a limited-time thing...

“Yeah, okay,” he says, and Raj’s mouth drops open into a huge, radiant smile.

“Really?” He beams at Noah, then stops, suddenly anxious again. “And you’re sure I didn’t, like - pressure you, or - this is something you definitely want to do? It would make you happy?”

He waits, looking at Noah - then draws back, his eyes widening again.

“Aw,” he says, laughing. “Dude, you get the cutest lil’ dimples when you smile like that. Who knew?”

Noah has the feeling of falling back into the world’s comfiest, warmest, most perfect bed.

He can only close his eyes and hope that it doesn’t disappear from beneath him, that he’s in for a soft landing.