Unexpected love

Ten woke up slowly, his sleep-fogged brain processing everything at a bit-rate far below his normal operating standards. He couldn't feel his right arm, which he chalked up to having slept on it wrong. There was an unusual pressure on his left leg, and he mentally shrugged it away, figuring that he'd either tossed the pillow down there (though it did seem kind of heavy for that) or he'd twisted the blanket around it.

He frowned as his body became more physically alert. There was a semi-hard surface under his cheek and left shoulder, and he seemed to be wrapped around a fairly large object. The only thing on his bed that could have been under him were his blankets and pillows, combined to form one lump, but they couldn't be wrapped around him if he was laying on them.
His eyes opened, and he gazed foggily in the direction that his alarm clock should have been. It wasn't there. He lowered his gaze and his heart hammered in his chest in trepidation as his fears coalesced into a sleeping male face.

"Johnny" he choked out softly, his eyes widening. They were curled together, his arm trapped under Johnny's body and his left leg wedged between both of Johnny's. "Oh, gods," he whispered to himself, closing his eyes.

Last night hadn't seemed real. He had expected to wake up in his apartment and to discover that it had all been a dream. Now that thought seemed silly. The party the day before had been real enough, as had the pain of stubbing his toe on the way up the steps. He'd obviously arrived last night, and he had had no memory of leaving. Then again, if he counted the crossing of the balconies as leaving, he'd left.

He carefully lifted his leg, wiggling it out from between the ones that trapped it in place. His arm was going to be a pain when it started tingling, he knew. He rolled onto his back, gently dislodging the arm Johnny had wrapped around his torso; he hadn't even noticed it before, so light was Johnny's grip.

Slowly, he began the process of pulling his arm out from under the other man. It was an awkward thing to do, and matters were only worsened when the appendage began to tingle painfully. He bit his lip, and kept moving backwards until his arm was free.
He resisted the urge to cheer in victory even as he rolled off the side of the bed. His feet, warm up until that point, met the cold wood floor, and he gasped in shock and sat back down heavily before he'd thought the action through. He looked over his shoulder and sighed in relief; Johnny was still sleeping peacefully, at least for a while.

Instead of standing again quickly, Ten did a visual search of the room for his clothes. He was down to his underwear, and he wasn't about to escape in just those in the weather they'd been having. Not that he would try to escape in just his underwear in the summer time, he reminded himself.

His clothes were nicely folded on a chair in the corner of the room. He stood up, grimacing as the cold again assailed his feet. The air, at least, was warm, and the rest of his body was mildly comfortable. It only took him a few minutes to slip into his clothes, and there was only one wary moment when he'd tripped stepping into his pants and had fallen into the wall when he'd feared that he'd rouse Johnny. His luck seemed to hold, for Ten didn't move.

The clothing dilemma solved, Ten still had to find his shoes and the door out as soon as possible. He opened a door that he assumed led to the rest of the apartment. All he saw beyond was darkness. Not even the shallow light from the bedroom penetrated it. He shrugged to himself and walked through the opening, taking careful steps.

He collided with something at hip level and grunted, his hands moving down to protectively cup his front side, and then out to investigate. It was a countertop. After pondering that it was an odd place to put a counter, his hands discovered the sink and the articles around it. He'd found the bathroom.

He rolled his eyes, though there was no way that even he could see it in the darkness of the room, and turned around. There was a sliver of light that led back to the bedroom, and he followed it, gently shutting the door to the bathroom behind him.

With careful steps, he walked to the other side of the room where another door was located. He didn't glance back at the bed; every moment that delayed his exit was another moment where the bed and its occupant were looking more appealing. It was best not to tempt himself too much.
Luck was with him once again, and he stepped into the hallway that led to the kitchen and living area. Johnny had given him only a brief tour before he'd nearly dragged Ten off to the bedroom. Given the suddenness of it all, it had been a nice surprise to find that he had only wanted to cuddle. Ten had had a moment of fear, as he was being led to the bedroom, that Johnny would be the kind to act very quickly on attraction. It had been a pleasant surprise to find out that he wasn't.

The living room was not without its obstacles. He tripped over a corner of the sofa and tipped over a stand that held a lamp; he'd saved the lamp, but the sound of the stand hitting the floor had been loud, and he'd waited apprehensively for Johnny to come to investigate. There was no sound from the bedroom, and he sighed in relief, up righted the stand, replaced the lamp, and continued on his hunt for his shoes.
He found them, put them on, and was heading to the door, which he had to pass by the kitchen to reach, when he heard someone humming. Hoping that he had time yet, he hurried his steps. Johnny stepped out of the kitchen just as Ten reached the door way, and they both stopped to stare at each other.

Ten swallowed and struggled with the feelings that were beating around in his chest. He had been desperate to leave, wishing to avoid the awkwardness of facing the stranger with whom he'd slept. There was also a longing, which he buried, to stay exactly where he was. Last night had been wonderful, curling up to a warm body, being held in loving arms. It was a far cry from his normal cold, lonely bed.

"Morning, love," Johnny greeted him, finally offering a smile and a bowl. "Before you run away, have some breakfast. Every good escape artist should eat a full meal first thing in the morning."
Ten swallowed and accepted the bowl with a weak smile of his own. He hadn't expected Johnny to be so kind about his awkward escape; of course, he hadn't expected Johnny to discover it in the first place. He watched as Johnny sailed back into the kitchen.
"I don't know what you like on your cereal, especially stuff as bleak tasting as that, but I -do- have sugar and honey, and they tend to make it a bit more palatable. Do you want either?" he turned, still smiling, and waited for Ten to speak.

"No," Ten finally said, taking a hesitant step into the kitchen, and then another, until he was in the middle of the room. "I'm sorry," he said softly. He didn't know exactly what he was apologizing for; not getting away before Johnny had woken up, trying to get away before Johnny woke up, or maybe even accepting the offer presented to him the previous night.
"For sneaking off like a thief in the night? You should be," Johnny said teasingly. He stepped closer to Ten and ran the back of his knuckles down the other man's cheek. "I don't keep unwilling guests, Ten. You're free to come and go as you like."

"I can come back?" he asked, sounding childishly insecure even to his own ears. He realized suddenly what he'd truly been most afraid of. He hadn't wanted to wake up and have Johnny realize that last night was a fluke, that he really didn't want Ten. He hadn't wanted to face being asked to leave.
Johnny frowned, staring at him for a moment in confusion. Then the expression cleared and he was grinning at Ten. He took the bowl from Ten and sat it down on the counter, and then pulled the other man into his embrace. He didn't say anything, which was probably for the best. Words were often too little to truly ease insecurities of the heart.

Ten returned the hug, burying his face against Johnny's shoulder. Johnny was taller, but they fit perfectly together. They stayed that way for several minutes, and then Johnny drew back.
"Don't go anywhere," he ordered, leaving the kitchen. Ten did as he was told for a couple of minutes. When Johnny didn't return immediately, Ten realized that he was missing out on his opportunity to get out. After a moment more of hesitation, he quickly went to the door, unlocked the two dead-bolts and the chain, and then crept into the hallway, shutting the door behind him softly.
He didn't have a coat; it was next door, and he didn't feel like coming face-to-face with one of his 'friends'. He searched his pants pocket and found his car keys, grateful for once that he was the designated chauffer.
He went for the elevator after deciding that his body was still too tired for the stairs. He was on the fourteenth floor, after all. The ride to the first-floor lobby was silent; Johnny's apartment building obviously hadn't heard of elevator music.
The doors opened, and he stepped into the small foyer. As he walked to the glass doors that lead into the building, he could see the snow falling outside. It was a cold day, and he was probably going to have to take the time to warm up his car. He sighed, squared his shoulders, and stepped outside.
His car was half a block down, and he walked to it briskly, key in hand, ready to get inside out of the wind. He did a visual scan of his car, and stopped on the sidewalk beside it, looking in dismay at the flat tire on the front passenger side.
"Why?" he asked the wind. "Why me? What did I do to deserve this?"
"I told you it was destiny," Johnny answered, suddenly appearing beside him. A coat was wrapped around Ten's shoulders, and gloves were pressed into his hands. "If you'd stayed put like I told you to, this wouldn't have happened."
Ten stared at him. The teasing note was gone, and there was a scowl in the place of the smile that Johnny had so far continuously bestowed upon him. The keys were taken from his hand, and he watched as Johnny opened the trunk of his car. A search turned up a jack, tire-iron, and a donut .
"I swear, Ten. It's five thirty in the morning, and you're trying to run away. You could have waited a couple more hours, at least. I could have actually cooked you breakfast, one that you'd eat, and it would have been nice to wake up next to you in bed, instead of being bounced out of my place while you're trying to leave quietly." Johnny kept up a running dialogue as he set about changing the tire. Ten just continued to gaze at him, watching as a coatless, gloveless Johnny changed his tire.
When Johnny was done, and the flat tire, jack, and tire iron had been placed back in the trunk, he stepped up to Ten and looked at him very seriously.
"I meant what I said about keeping unwilling houseguests. However, I think that something has been misconstrued between us, and I want to clear that up before you go," he stated very seriously. He reached out and searched the pocket of the coat that was still protecting Ten from the cold. From it he withdrew two keys. "The silver one is the front door key to the building, and the bronze-colored one goes to the second bolt on my apartment door. Unless you come in the middle of the night, that's the only lock that you'll have to worry about.
"I was serious when I asked you to stay last night, and I'm as serious now. I can't make you stay with me, especially not if you don't want to, but it would make me very happy if you returned." He reached out and placed the keys in Ten's hands. "Drive carefully," he requested. He leaned in and brushed a light kiss against Ten's cheek.
As swiftly as he had appeared, he walked away, disappearing back into the building. Ten stared down in amazement at the little bits of metal in his hands. He'd been worried that Johnny wouldn't want him come morning, and he'd just had his fears annihilated.
He turned and stared up at the building, his eyes trying to find a balcony on the fourteenth floor. From his vantage point, that was nearly impossible, but he didn't care. Somewhere up there was someone who seemed to care. It was nice to be wanted.

Notes