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It’s late when Mitch steps off the elevator onto his floor. He’s feeling the kind of bone weary exhaustion one only gets after a week of mid-term hell but he’s warm from beers with Stromer and Davo, and his beautiful, soft bed is within reach so he’s not complaining yet.
The floor is quiet, Thursday night and everyone is either out for the night or long since crashed from the stress of the week. He can’t wait to join the masses of sleepers, turn his alarm off and sleep all day without the stress of another deadline or a class to get to.
It had been a difficult choice at the time, dropping his 8 am Friday class, but now he could cry, he’s so happy he doesn’t have to drag himself out of bed in a few hours. He’s daydreaming about the softness of his pillow as he crosses through the common area, so he can be excused for not noticing he’s not alone.
At first it’s just a tuft of dark hair peeking over the back of the couch and Mitch squints, tired eyes having trouble focusing, but it quickly resolves itself into a person as he takes a few more steps. The guy is stretched out on the couch in a hoodie and sweats, one long leg hanging out from under the blanket thrown haphazardly over him. He’s got his phone propped up on his chest, long fingers tapping away, the light of the screen casting shadows in his dark eyes as his gaze flickers briefly over to Mitch and away again.
Exhausted, a little buzzed, Mitch can’t help but want that gaze on him again.
“Are you sleeping out here?” He gets his wish- those dark brown eyes land on him again.
“Yup.” The guy gives it an extra pop and Mitch nods sagely.
“Sexiled?” he guesses, and couch guy nods. “Sucks.”
Couch guy nods again and his gaze flickers back to his phone. Mitch misses it immediately. He studies him, taking in the high forehead, the slope of his nose, that plush lower lip. He looks familiar but he can’t place why.
“Did you need something?”
Mitch is startled from his thoughts, realizing, as couch guy arches an eyebrow at him, that he’s probably been staring at the guy's mouth for longer than is strictly bros.
Whoops.
Cheeks blazing, Mitch opens his mouth, realizes he’s probably just going to shove his other foot in it, and closes it again quickly. Couch guy’s lips are curling with amusement and Mitch realizes he’s staring again.
“Night,” he blurts out, turning on heel and heading down the hallway to his room.
He makes it to his room in one piece, some of his embarrassment having faded in the time it takes to get there, and resolves that tomorrow morning he’ll figure out who couch guy is, see if he can’t make a better second impression.
Actually, he thinks, cracking a yawn, make that tomorrow afternoon.
He’s barely got the door open when there’s a hand on his chest, pushing him back out into the hall, followed by a harried, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Mitch stares down at the hand, following it up an arm and then bare chest, and finally to Willy’s face. He’s pink. Mitch doesn’t think he’s ever seen Willy this flushed before, even after a game. His hair is sticking up like he’s been running his fingers through it, and there’s a wild look to his eyes. Mitch glances back down at the hand on his chest and starts to wonder if Willy’s gone on another Redbull binge without him.
“I live here?” It comes out sounding more like a question but Willy’s got the door mostly closed behind them like he doesn’t want Mitch to see what’s inside. Mitch squints at his roommate. “Did you do something to my stuff?”
“What? No. Didn’t you get my text?”
Mitch pulls his phone from his pocket and waves it at him.
“It’s dead. Why, what’s going on?” Willy glances over his shoulder and his cheeks get pinker. There’s a sound from inside and Mitch’s overtired brain suddenly catches up with the situation. “Do you have someone in there?”
“Shut up!” Willy hisses.
Mitch laughs, trying to peer over his shoulder. “Who is it?”
Willy gives him a shove as a voice comes from inside.
“Willy? Everything okay?”
Mitch knows that voice. It takes him a moment to place it and then-
“Oh my god—” Willy tries to clamp a hand over his mouth but he dodges out of the way. “Is that Zach?”
“Why are you like this?”
“You got him to go out with you?” Mitch lowers his voice but Willy still winces so whatever. He’s excited- sue him. This is huge news- Willy’s been trying to get Hyman to go out with him for like a year. Willy looks like he wants to wave it off but there’s a pleased little grin spreading across his face. Okay, so Mitch can handle being sexiled for a bro. Especially with how happy Willy is.
“Plug my phone in,” he demands, shoving it into Willy’s hands. “I want details tomorrow!”
“Not a chance,” Willy shoots back, ducking into the room. He closes the door firmly behind him.
Mitch is still grinning a minute later when it sinks in that he has to find a new place to sleep for the night. That kills his mood a bit. But okay, whatever, he’s not the only guy that’s been sexiled for the night and misery loves company, right?
Couch guy glances up at his reappearance. He arches one dark brow. Mitch assumes it’s his way of asking why he’s back.
“Got sexiled too,” he admits easily.
“Sucks,” couch guy parrots and Mitch grins, shrugging.
There’s a loveseat and chair kitty corner to the couch, a coffee table in the middle. Mitch heads for the loveseat, figuring he can catch some sleep there. He’s still in his jeans and hoodie, which kind of sucks but it’s not the worst thing he’s slept in, and he’s had his fair share of nights sleeping in denim after a rager when he was too drunk to remember to strip. He kicks off his shoes, his toes curling in the chill, and tries to get comfy.
He starts off curled on his side but his legs either end up bent against his chest or hanging off the seat. Laying on his front has one leg in the air, one of the floor. On his back is easiest but it leaves him with his legs hanging over the arm of the loveseat and rapidly losing circulation. And he has no pillow.
It doesn’t take him long to realize he’s not going to be able to sleep there.
He pushes to his feet and crosses to the chair- they’re always comfy when it’s movie night in the common area, people fighting over who gets dibs. Mitch is tall but nimble and uses it to his advantage on those nights.
“I wouldn’t sit there if I were you,” couch guy says and Mitch freezes, about to lower himself down. “Pretty sure Hollsy puked there earlier.”
“That’s fucking gross.” Mitch shoves to his feet and heads back to the loveseat.
“Yeah, they were just wiping it up when I got here,” couch guy adds.
“Awesome.” Mitch scrubs his hands over his eyes and wonders if he can just melt into the loveseat. Maybe he’s exhausted enough to just pass out. He leaves his hands over his eyes and takes a few slow, deep breaths. Fatigue casts a blanket over his mind, makes his body heavy.
But he’s cold and there’s already a crick in his neck and he quickly gives up, forcing his tired eyes back open. Couch guy’s finally put his phone down, looking like he’s getting ready to sleep and Mitch realizes in a minute it’s just going to be him and his thoughts for like, hours.
He panics.
“So what's your name?”
Couch guy tilts his head, squinting at him. Mitch pastes on his most charming smile, long legs stretched in front of him.
“What?”
“I don’t want to keep calling you couch guy in my head,” he explains. Couch guy’s eyebrows shoot up at that. He mouths the words, looking a little bewildered. Mitch waits patiently.
“Auston,” he says eventually and like, the name is vaguely familiar but Mitch doesn’t know why . He shrugs it off; he’ll either figure it out or he won’t, but in the meantime there’s a cute guy a few feet away from him and he’s got nothing to do all night.
“I’m Mitch.”
Auston’s lips quirk up at that and Mitch zeroes in on the sight.
“So. Couch guy?”
“Think the name explains itself, bud.” Mitch gestures to where he’s stretched out.
“Not the worst thing I’ve been called, I think.”
“Probably best to just accept it,” he suggests. “Besides, I know your name now.”
“I feel so much better.” Auston’s voice is dry as the desert. Mitch grins, delighted.
“Any chance you wanna take turns on the couch?”
Auston lets out a bark of a laugh, like it’s been startled from him and Mitch flushes, pleased.
“Not a chance,” he says, but his grin softens his words. “I’m definitely bigger than you, man. There’s no way I’d fit on that loveseat.”
“Wanna share?” Mitch offers, waggling his eyebrows.
“You always offer to spoon with guys you’ve just met?” Auston asks, bemused. Mitch shrugs.
“Only if they’re hot.”
Auston’s grin widens, showing off pearly white teeth. His cheeks are a little pink. Mitch is pretty sure he’s not mistaking the interest in his gaze.
“You’re just trying to suck up now.”
“You’re right,” Mitch deadpans, to Auston’s obvious delight. “I’m just trying to get your blanket.”
“Hmm, I don’t know.” Auston shifts, pushing up on his elbows. Mitch’s eyes catch on the breadth of his shoulders and wonders what they would feel like if he were to run his fingers along them and down his arms. He wishes vehemently that the hoodie wasn’t in the way, so he could see if Auston’s as thick as he thinks he is. “I don’t usually cuddle with a guy before he’s even taken me out on a date.”
“How about breakfast then?” He offers, joy curling through him at the easy back and forth. He hasn’t felt a connection like this in a long time, relishes the way attraction curls warm and languid in his belly and his heart pounds with the smiles he pulls from Auston so easily.
“Your treat.” Auston holds up the edge of the blanket, shifting onto his side and Mitch pushes to his feet quickly, not wanting to miss the opportunity. It’s an awkward flailing of arms and legs that follows as he tries to balance on the edge of the couch before Auston tucks a strong arm around his waist and yanks him back, flush against his chest. Auston keeps his other arm under the pillow, in the crook of Mitch’s neck and Mitch hides his delighted smile in the material of his hoodie.
His heart is thundering away and he’s certain Auston can feel it where he’s pressed to Mitch’s back but he doesn’t comment, just tightens his grip a little more. A cool nose brushes against the back of his neck and he startles. Auston gives him an apologetic squeeze and Mitch relaxes into the hold.
Fuck, he loves cuddling.
“Are you tired?” he asks quietly. Despite the exhaustion pulling at him, his mind is spinning and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to just drift off. If Auston wanted to he’d try at least, but their conversation has left him hungry for more, to know more about the other man.
Auston huffs out a laugh, his breath warm against Mitch’s neck, and Mitch shivers a little.
“Not really,” Auston admits. “Why?”
“Tell me about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?”
Mitch doesn’t hesitate.
“Everything.”