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Sunlight peeks through the curtains.
Josh winces at the bright light from his phone when he picks it up.
It’s 5:21 in the morning.
5:21 on a Saturday morning.
It’s the weekend, finally, after an… eventful, let’s say, week that ended on a much happier Friday than on the Monday it started.
But the next morning, it’s a little less happy. Most notably due to the absence of a certain neurologist in bed.
Wolf’s bed.
The bed that they’d literally just shared for the first time.
Anxiety starts to swell in Josh’s chest, threatening to force its way up his throat.
He thought last night was incredible.
And sure, Wolf was a little nervous about it—
(He’d confessed his hesitation somewhere between the awkward, yet heated journey up the stairs, roaming hands never quite leaving the other, mouths more smiling then making actual contact with each other, and the subsequent tumble into bed.
There’d been a moment as Josh pushed Wolf against the headboard, as he knocked his knees apart, making room for himself flush against Wolf’s chest; there was a beat of stillness.
Not comfortable, not warm.
He felt the quick tense of Wolf’s muscles, how for a second it seemed like every one of Wolf’s nerves lit up in a glaring red stop.
He's not stupid, he’s well aware of check-ins and all that goes into making sure any partners feel safe and secure.
So he’d stopped, leaned back on his knees, despite their protest, ran a cool thumb across flushed skin.
It was then that Wolf had confided in him that it had been a little over three years since he’d slept with anyone.
Years since he’d been kissed, since he’s been touched like this.
Years since someone held him gently in their arms, near bursting with so much want— no.
Need.
Because somehow Wolf isn’t just a fleeting thing anymore. Josh doesn’t know what he is, but he knows that it blew past the first ticklings of attraction a long time ago.
It’s something different, unbridled.
He knows that there is no life without Oliver Wolf taking up space in it. He can’t go back to how it was before, how they used to be.
He never wants to go back.)
—and he’ll admit, so was he. But they made it work, they found each other over the blankets and suddenly it wasn’t so scary anymore.
So what changed?
After clothes were shed, after their hearts began to tamper down, when he’d moved closer, slotting their bodies together again. Not seeking anything pleasurable, just closeness, comfort. He’d leaned his head down, cheek resting in the crook of Wolf’s neck, occasionally pressing a soft kiss— honestly it was barely even a touch of pursed lips—to the underside of his jaw or trailing up his neck.
Their eyes began to flutter closed, and soon after they’d drifted off.
He was about ninety percent sure that Wolf didn’t mind it.
But that percentage was slowly going down by the minute.
Maybe he came on too strong.
Maybe Wolf hated him and found it stupid and immature that he’d enjoyed being close to him.
Maybe he thought the sex was absolutely terrible, and horrible, and so awful, that he’d decided that he never wants to see him again.
Maybe—
No, what's stupid is to think that.
Wolf is… well he’s just Wolf.
There could be a million reasons as to why he’s randomly absent from bed so early in the morning.
And as much as the thought is nagging and making him feel like he’ll nearly vomit, Wolf’s dislike for him falls way down on that list.
He leaves the bed, shrugging back on his shirt and boxers before quietly making his way downstairs.
He does make an inevitable squeak when he hits the very last step, the stair shifting under his weight.
But there’s no sign of Wolf.
Not until he turns the corner, leans against the doorway, and finds said man sitting at his desk.
Actually no, not sitting, he’s hunched over; forehead pressing against the pages of a little notebook, hand still lazily holding a pen, though it’s basically fallen out of his grasp anyway.
There’s only the dim light of a lamp illuminating the room.
Josh pads over, his hand automatically finds its way to the crown of Wolf’s head, softly waving through strands of dark, unruly hair.
He leans down, dropping a kiss to it before beginning to nudge Wolf awake.
“Hey,” he says. Another small nudge of shoulders.
Wolf lets out a sleepy sigh, burrowing his head further into the desk.
He tries again, this time managing to coax a pair of unfocused, half-lidded eyes to look up at him.
Wolf’s got a bit of ink smudged on his forehead—which Josh quickly swiped away with his thumb—matching the drag of his pen on paper of a diagram and bullet-pointed notes that have also been slightly smoothed over, making the neat lines fuzzy. His glasses have dug a little into his nose, leaving a small mark when Josh gingerly takes them off and places them on the desk.
“What are you doing up so early?”
“The um—“ Wolf yawns. “The larva,” he gestures to the potted fern at the edge of his desk. “I forgot to check on it when I got back.” He sits up more, leaning back against Josh’s hand as he opens his notebook more, showing Josh his work.
Josh almost laughs at the absurdity of it. “It couldn’t wait until morning?”
Wolf shrugs, “I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
Leaning over Wolf’s shoulder, Josh peers at the notebook. “So did the worm do anything interesting?”
“Larva,” Wolf corrects, “it’s not a worm.” He brings the pot closer, shuffling through the fronds until he extends a finger onto one of the stems, lifting out a tiny green— thing.
It’s just a weird looking thing. Maybe a little like a Pokémon that his nieces or nephew would like.
It’s completely green, has somewhat of a bill-ish looking mouth area, probably. He thinks it might be one but what does he know?
But then his gaze ventured to its eyes.
Two tiny black dots surrounded by a ring of yellow located near the top but angled to the side of its round head.
Actually, forget the beady eyes at this point.
It’s little clear-green feet, if you can even call them that, make their way up Wolf’s hand, slowly inching and inching with round nubs.
It’s only natural that Josh backs away.
Wolf quickly turns, brows furrowed in confusion. As soon as he sees just how much distance Josh has put between them, his mouth ticks up in the beginnings of a smile. “You’re bigger than it, a lot bigger.”
Josh takes another step back.
“Are you afraid of bugs?”
“No,” Josh huffs. “They’re just—“ he makes a strangled noise. “Do you not see it?” He points at the larva making its way up Wolf’s wrist. “It’s literally crawling on you with its gross feet.”
A breathy giggle slips out of his boyfriend’s mouth. “And here I thought you were a ‘big bad military man.’ It’s a caterpillar, it’s not going to hurt you.”
“You don’t know that!”
“It can’t even bite, well, it can. But it won’t hurt you, they’re meant for chewing leaves.”
Josh crosses his arms, now moved far enough where he’s nearly out of the room.
“Are you seriously going to stay over there until it’s gone?”
“Preferably dead, but that would be cruel. I’d take it going back on its leaves and hiding in your ferns.”
Wolf deposits the creature deep into fronds, then scoots the plant back to its place near the edge of his desk.
“Come here,” he says, arms outstretched, waving Josh over.
Josh doesn’t budge. “Are you sure you didn’t hide it in your shirt or something?”
Wolf shoots him an unamused glare. “If I was going to prank you, I’d do better than that. I’m not going to freak you out with something you don’t like, that’s not funny. Also, you literally just watched me put it away, I promise it’s not going to get on you.”
“Well did it take a shit on you? You should wash your hands before asking me to come closer to you.”
Wolf blinks; once, twice. And then a third time to make sure he’s heard Josh correctly.
“A shit,” he says, incredulous. “They have a continuous digestive tract, but I can assure you it did not ‘take a shit’ on me.” He stands from his chair. “But you’re right, I should go wash up.”
He makes a beeline to the kitchen, the soft patter of his feet against the floor echoes in the quiet house.
Josh stands in the doorway for a second, feeling a little like an idiot.
The clean smell of dish soap drifts out, immediately taking the edge off that stupid spiral he’d been trapped in when he woke up.
It’s pretty hard to stay convinced someone regrets sleeping with you when you can hear them actively scrubbing caterpillar germs off their hands.
He walks into the kitchen and leans against the fridge, just watching.
Wolf is under the tap, thoroughly soaping up and rinsing his hands.
Without turning around, Wolf shakes his hands dry over the basin and grabs the towel. "There. Clean. No bugs, no gross feet. Am I allowed near you now?"
"Yeah.”
Wolf turns around, dropping the towel on the counter. He steps straight into Josh’s space, smelling like soap and cold morning air, and just collapses forward. He plants his forehead right against Josh’s chest, his arms looping loosely around his waist as he lets out a heavy sigh, relaxing his weight against him.
"You're ridiculous," Wolf mutters into his shirt.
Josh’s arms automatically wind around Wolf's shoulders, his hands catching the fabric of his shirt.
The solid weight of him feels grounding.
"I woke up and you weren't there," he says. He didn't mean for it to sound so vulnerable and helpless, but it's just the truth.
Wolf tenses slightly, his head tilting back to look up at Josh. Even half-asleep, he catches on instantly, his brow furrowing.
"Josh, no. I didn't leave because of last night," Wolf says quickly. “Last night was— it was great. Really. My brain just woke up and I couldn't stop thinking. I had to write the notes down before I forgot."
"An awful lot of thinking for a worm," Josh teases, dryly, though the knot in his chest completely unravels.
"Larva," Wolf mumbles automatically,. He burrows his face right back into the crook of Josh’s neck. "Let’s go back to bed.”
Josh smiles, his hands sliding down to the small of Wolf's back, gently steering him toward the doorway. "Only if your bugs stay downstairs."
"Deal," Wolf says, already almost dozing off on his feet as they start the quiet trek back up the stairs.