Aiden waited… and waited… and waited. He was starting to get tired, but he promised Damien he’d be awake by the time the karaoke fiend got home. Trying not to nod off at his desk, Aiden fumbled for his near-empty can of fruity energy drink. The pineapple taste was tangy on his tongue, but he was going to miss this once the final summer cans were sold and they moved onto more seasonal flavors. He yawned, sipped the tart, lukewarm beverage and looked at his panel to make sure he hadn’t missed important highlights on the spaceship’s exterior.

He wanted Damien to come home. He missed him, and his anxieties hadn’t waned much even being away from the karaoke bar for a few hours by this point. He’d gotten himself so wound up he felt nauseous and it was hard to focus on anything except the slowly ticking clock on his desktop screen.

That long awaited knock on the door came and Aiden nearly tumbled out of his chair as he raced toward it to answer. It was nearly midnight, and the knocking was loud and he didn’t want his neighbors to get mad. He wrenched the door open and looked at Damien.

“Hi—” He was cut off when Damien grabbed his face and pulled him close. For a second, he could have sworn Damien was about to kiss him. That’s when he realized Damiens’ breath smelled of sweet liquor, his cheeks were bright red, and he was obviously tipsy.

“I messed up,” Damien mumbled.

“Oh-oh? How?” Aiden asked.

Damien smooshed Aiden’s face. His neighbor furrowed his brows and blinked a few times.

“You were having a panic attack,” Damien said, voice quiet and slurred.

“I mean, I was close,” Aiden replied, struggling to get the words out as Damien continued to smoosh his face.

“I didn’t help you like you helped me the-the other night, when the power went out.”

“It’s okay.”

Damien scowled. He finally dropped his hands but kept his face uncomfortably close to Aiden’s, and all Aiden could think about was kissing him. That would be so wrong, though. He didn’t want to kiss him while Damien was what appeared to be several cocktails in, didn’t want him to not be aware or fully consensual. It wouldn’t be real.

“I’m sleepy,” Damien mumbled, his foggy mind drifting elsewhere.

“Oh, uh, do you want to—”

“Sleepover!”

Damien stumbled and started giggling. He fell into Aiden, who caught him with some shock as they both nearly fell into the apartment. With a groan, Aiden hooked his arm around Damien and helped guide him to his bed. He deposited him on the mattress and let the lumbering goth get comfortable. Aiden had never felt anything like this before, and it was throwing every part of him—mind, body, and soul—into a frenzy. He let out a hitched breath and backed away as Damien mumbled his name so sweetly into the pillow before rolling over, draping bright pink hair across his black pillowcase like magic over a starless night sky.

Aiden pressed his hand against his mouth and tried to wipe away the ghost of Damien’s lingering energy on his lips, knowing full well that wasn’t a haunting he could afford, before he went back to his comic.

If anything, at least he was awake enough to be productive now.