Chapter Text
Albert ran a hand down his face with a groan. He sat on the edge of his tiny twin bed that felt more like a cot in his tiny college dorm room. Finch sauntered around the room gathering things into a backpack. He loved being roommates with Finch. Especially when his roommate was a clean freak. The two sides of the room were completely different. Finch’s side was clean, minimalistic, and honestly colorless besides the occasional light yellow. Albert, on the other hand, was an organized mess. Posters on every available wall, knick-knacks on every available space that wasn't taken up by actual school-related junk.
His bed was never made unless Finch got fed up enough to just do it for him. He hated it when Finch did that. Not because he thought Albert couldn’t do it himself. But because Finch was taking time out of his busy day to clean Albert's mess when he didn’t have to. Albert was not a morning person. Finch was. Albert sat back on his bed, watching Finch gather junk.
“Do you have to go?” Albert asked in a whiny voice, like a child. Finch chuckled slowly.
“You’re so dramatic.” He walked over to Albert on the bed. “You hang out with your friends all the time.”
“And you are welcome to come anytime!” Albert flung his hands up. “I mean, why doesn't Elmer want me there?”
“It’s not that he doesn’t want you there. It’s his birthday. He’s allowed to pick who he wants to spend it with.” Finch laughed. He held out his hand in front of Albert. He wasn’t watching. Albert was actually starting to zone out. “Hand,” Finch said softly. Albert shook his head. He took his hand like they had a million times. If anyone had asked Albert why they did that, he couldn’t tell them. Just in casual conversation, Finch will hold out his hand, and Albert will take it. Occasionally, he wouldn't see it, and Finch says the simple word Hand. And Albert knows. It was normal. At least to them it was.
“I know, I know.” Albert groaned dramatically. “Have fun with your friends. Just forget all about me.” Albert fell back dramatically. He forgot he was holding Finch’s hand and pulled him with him. Finch fell over Albert's bed. He held himself up by a hand braced near Albert's ear. They were close. They were always close. But this felt different. Finch looked away quickly, pulling himself up.
“Sorry.”
“No, it was my fault.” Silence stretched for a moment. Finch squeezed his hands for a second before letting go.
“I have to go. I won’t forget about you, I promise.” Finch laughed.
“You better not.” Albert smiled.
“And you have class. Don’t be late.” Finch grabbed his bag and headed to the door.
“To not be late, I should have left ten minutes ago,” Albert called out before Finch left with a sweet goodbye smile. Whenever Finch left the room, Albert would be stuck in this daze of a smile for at least a few seconds. Then he’d shake his head and continue with his day. And he did just that. He sat for a moment before realizing he really was going to be late.
Albert practically sprinted through the door. The class was graphic design, one of the only fun classes he had. Especially because he had it with Race. He took his seat right next to the blonde boy. Peace was rare with Race. As soon as he sat down, he felt a harsh push to his shoulder.
“Can I help you?!” Albert turned to him.
“Shut it, Red. You said you wouldn’t be late anymore!” Red. He hated that nickname. He hated his red hair. Race had a slight smile. He was surely betting on him being late.
“I’m sorry? Do I hear the campus’s biggest liar coming after me? about lying?” Albert hit a hand to his chest in mock offence. Race burst out laughing.
“Maybe I should be thanking you, I just got 50 bucks from Mush.”
“What have I told you about betting on me?” Albert questioned.
“Only do it if I know I can win?” Albert hit his shoulder.
“Don’t do it!” They heard a sharp shush from the teacher up ahead. They giggled softly. They took their conversation to a whisper.
“Speaking of Mush, he wants us all over at his dorm today, Blinks out today so we can be as loud as we want.” Race smiled.
“Oh yeah, Elmer’s birthday thing is today,” Albert said casually.
“Were you invited?” Race seemed shocked.
“No, no. Finch is going.” Race nodded. “So Buttons won’t be there then?” Albert asked. Race laughed louder than he should have.
“Sorry, sorry. No, he won’t be there. He wouldn’t miss that party for the world. He is so invested in something that is happening in the group, you know.” Race explained. Albert looked confused.
“I know? know what?”
“The thing happening? Buttons won’t tell me, but it’s something about Finch, so I assumed he told you.” Race looked at him blankly.
“Oh. No, I don’t know anything. Maybe he told me, and I just forgot.” Albert shrugged.
“Yeah.” Race didn’t believe that, Albert didn’t either. Finch doesn’t keep things from him. And Albert doesn’t forget what Finch says. “So, Mush’s? Tonight?” Race raises his eyebrow.
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Great, be there at 6.”
Albert takes it back. Graphic design is not fun. He normally loves it. But that was the most boring class he had ever sat through. They didn’t open the computer once the whole period. He was happy to get out of there. But then he remembered he had three more classes that were much worse than that, and didn’t have his friends to keep him company. At least he wouldn’t be alone that night like originally planned. Nights without Finch were just plain boring. And mostly filled with homework. He walked out of his last class feeling exhausted. He hated Fridays. He had the most homework from the classes, not to mention he had to go to the most classes all week on Fridays, and that's also when his friends wanted to hang out. He usually sleeps most of the day on Saturdays. He went back to his dorm for a short time. He got changed and threw some water on his face.
He looked around the room for his jacket. He had an awful jacket. Finch actually tried to throw it out multiple times. It's ripped at the shoulder seam, the cuffs of the sleeves are raw with thread strands, and to top it off, it’s an ugly shade of purple. But Albert doesn’t want to buy another one. He’s had that one for years. Why would he get rid of it? Finch’s response to that was always “Because it’s on its deathbed!” That jacket has been on its deathbed for three years. It can hold on a bit longer. But at the moment, he couldn’t find it. Finch probably hid it from him. The thought alone made him laugh. The idea of freezing in Mush’s dorm because the heater was broken silenced that laughter really quickly. Mush was in the dorm building farthest from him. And it was 5:50. And he had to walk. He grabbed the sweatshirt off the desk chair and left. That was the warmest, most comfortable sweatshirt he had ever worn. So comfortable that he had to push away the realization that it was Finch’s. Not only that, it was on his chair, which means it's the one he wore the night before.
He finally made it to Mush’s building. He got inside quickly; the cold was seeping in quickly. Of course, Mush’s dorm was maybe two degrees warmer than the outside weather, but it was slightly better. They were all there already. He was five minutes late. Race laughed obnoxiously. “Is that proof enough that I won the bet?” Race yelled at Mush, who rolled his eyes, slapping a bill in Race’s hand. Albert sat down in the circle of friends. His friend group consisted of Race, JoJo, Romeo, Buttons, Jack, and Mush, but Buttons wasn’t there. They all sat in a circle. Race was to his right, and Jack was to his left. An awful arrangement if they wanted to talk about anything serious, which they rarely did.
Of course, being dumb college kids, the alcohol was in the center of the circle. Races already had a cup. JoJo, Mush, and Romeo all sat across from them. Mush had a drink as well, but JoJo didn’t, and Romeo refused to drink. He wasn’t mean about it; it was just personal preference. JoJo wasn’t a big drinker, and Jack only drank when it was a big party. Race and Mush, however, they would drink whenever alcohol was anywhere near them. Albert drank sometimes; it really just depended on how he was feeling. Mush’s dorm was the party dorm. He replaced all the normal lightbulbs with LED color-changing ones. He had the loudest speakers that had caused more noise complaints and ringing ears than any actual fun. But a Mush party was a party you’d remember for a long time.
The conversation picked up fast. Just normal complaints about school and classes. It quickly turned to cute people in classes, which only applied to three of them because the others were all taken. JoJo, Romeo, and Albert were the targets of that conversation. Race had Spot, Jack had Davey, Mush had Blink; technically, it would apply to Buttons as well, but he wasn’t there. Romeo was hopping from girl to girl, boy to boy, constantly. JoJo and Albert were often kept to themselves on that topic. But intoxicated Race and Mush were relentless. Jack had started drinking a little as well.
“So, any cute girls? boys? What are you again?” Race asked stupidly.
“That is not how you should ask that.” JoJo laughed.
“You know what I mean.”
“Girls and Guys. But a guy right now.” JoJo looked down. The crowd ooh-ed. “Shut up.”
“Wait, tell. Don’t leave us hanging like that!” Albert joined in. Embarrassing his friends was his favorite pastime.
“I have English with him.” JoJo started. Albert froze immediately. “He’s actually an English major. Oh crap, Albert, I can’t be telling you this.” JoJo looked at him.
“Finch?” Albert said quietly. JoJo nodded. Suddenly, Albert wanted a drink. The crowd erupted into whoops and cheers except for Albert and Race. They knew. Still, they acted happy.
“Oh, wait! We have to set you two up!” Mush said excitedly.
“Oh, I don't know about that…” JoJo looked down sheepishly. “Albert, you're not gonna tell him, are you?”
“Oh, no, no, we don’t really talk about that stuff anyway.” Albert forced a smile. JoJo nodded. Jack clapped his hands.
“It’s been a long time since we tried setting up two people! I remember Blink and Mush like it was yesterday.” Jack smiled. Mush pushed him.
“You guys really don’t have to.” JoJo smiled. Albert had already drunk two cups. He felt awful. Only Race and he knew about his ginormous crush on Finch. He hated being drunk. Hated it to his core. But this felt like a good time. He kept drinking, even after the topic was dropped. Though little innuendos were being thrown at JoJo every once in a while, that made Albert want to throw up.
It had been years since he had been pining over him. Since junior year of high school. He and Finch had become so close, he couldn't throw that away for some stupid crush that was definitely not becoming love extremely fast. For the longest time, he didn’t even know if Finch was gay. He only found that out last year. And when he did find out, he freaked out. Like full-on panic. He didn’t even know why. He should have been excited; that should have meant it was a bigger chance of him liking Albert back. But maybe it was the thought of Finch with another guy that killed him.
The whole party was ruined. Race stuck by his side as much as he could, half to comfort him, but also half to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. After all, Albert had not been that drunk in a long, long time. He lost track of time. He didn’t know what day it was. He was dead set on losing Race and sneaking off. He couldn’t breathe in that damn room. The drunk, buzzing feeling kept him warm. But it also seemed to amplify the smell of Finch on the sweatshirt. It drove him crazy. He needed to just sit and breathe. He snuck off finally.
Finch sat in his dorm room. Elmer’s party had ended. His dorm was only a few floors down from his so it wasn’t a long walk. He was assuming Albert would have been sitting waiting for him. His backpack was there, but he was not. Finch just assumed he went out, he often did on weekends. But it was very late. It was pushing midnight. Finch didn’t worry about Albert often. He found that he can take care of himself. But something didn’t feel right. Not at all. He picked up his phone and called Albert. The phone rang twice before he picked up. It was silent at first with the soft sound of wind. “Al?” He called into the phone. Silence. He could hear breathing. That’s a good sign. “Al? Are you there?” He asked again.
“Fin,” Albert said shortly. He sounded quiet. Not because of the phone, just in general. There was a large gust of wind across the phone speaker.
“Albie? Are you okay? Where are you?” Finch asked, holding the phone close to his ear.
“I’m on the roof.” That’s helpful. Finch sighed softly.
“The roof of what?”
“Our building,” Albert said. Finch could hear the chattering of his teeth.
“It’s cold out there.” Finch talked softly.
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Finch sighed softly.
“Good. What’s going on?”
“I don’t drink often,” Albert said quietly.
“Are you drunk?” Finch’s worry spiked.
“Yeah.” He could hear shuffling.
“I’m gonna come get you. How drunk are you?” Finch asked.
“I don’t know. I feel bad. It’s blurry.” Albert said softly. His voice was so soft. It didn’t feel right.
“I’m coming right now.” Finch got up, springing to the door. “Don’t move.” He said quickly before hanging up.
It only took Finch about five minutes to get to the roof. He walked out into the freezing cold air, but he couldn’t find his jacket. “Al?” He called out, hugging his arms to his chest.
“Fin?” He turned around. Albert was sitting near the edge of the roof, his legs dangling off the side. It was a beautiful view. The lights looked magical. Albert’s nose was pink; there were tear tracks down his cheeks that were probably icicles by now.
“Are you okay?” Finch asked, walking closer.
“Yeah.” He answered shortly.
“Can you come here? Are you okay to walk?” Finch stood behind him. Albert nodded. He began to stand up; his stance was wobbly. Being so close to the edge, Finch held out his hand. Albert took it. He always did. Finch tugged him lightly closer, a safe distance from the edge. Albert looked at him. He was close. He felt Finch’s hands on him, keeping him steady. “Shit, Red. You look…” Finch looked over at him. “Is that my sweatshirt?” Albert looked away.
“I couldn’t find mine.” He said softly.
“That’s okay. It looks better than yours anyway. At least mine's not falling apart.” Finch laughed. “Green looks good on you.” Albert looked up at him again. He hated to admit it, but Finch had a bit of height on him. “Brings out your hair.” Finch gently pushed a piece of hair back. Albert looked down. “Let’s go. I’m freezing.” Finch laughed.
“I-uh.” Albert didn’t follow. He stood there. “I think I'm gonna pass out.” He said softly. Finch’s eyes softened. He saw the way she swayed in his stance. He knew Albert passed out sometimes, whether it was alcohol or intense emotions, things like that. He nodded. He kept his hand on Albert's back. “That’s okay. I’ve got you.” Finch smiled softly. Seeing Albert like this was awful. But something inside of him liked taking care of him. He kept him close. It felt a little silly just waiting for him to pass out, but that’s what Race told him he is most comfortable doing, so Finch does it. He gently rubbed his back.
“Do you feel okay?” Finch asked.
“Well, no.” Albert chuckled softly.
“Okay, I should have known that.” Finch smiled. Albert began to sway a little more. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He whispered. He had only been with Albert when he fainted once, but it had become less frequent. And when he was there, he was already sitting back against the wall, so it was easy.
Albert's eyes started to droop. He felt his body fall into his arms a little more, his head falling against his shoulder. “There you go, it’s okay,” Finch whispered against his hair. After a few seconds, he felt the chill again. It was freezing. “I’m gonna go inside. Don’t be mad at me.” Finch smiled. He didn’t know if he was okay with being moved while out like that. He put his arm under his knees, pulling him up into his arms. He was pretty easy to carry. It helped that he was shorter than Finch.
He felt comfortable holding him. That probably meant something, but he would worry about that when his friend wasn’t unconscious in his arms. It scared him, of course it did. But it was Albert. Albert was independent. If this was what he needed, he'd give it to him.
He carried him down the stairs. He stirred a few times, but nothing dramatic. He reached the door, unlocking it and going inside. Albert mumbled softly. “You there, Albie?” He asked with a smile. He gently laid him down on his bed.
“Mhm…” He hummed.
“Are you feeling okay?” Finch gently rubbed his hand over his chest. He felt the soft fabric of his own sweatshirt.
“Eh…Okay…” Albert finally opened his eyes.
“There he is.” Finch smiled. “You need to sleep, it’s late.”
“Mm…yeah…” Albert fluttered his eyes, leaning back.
“Alright. I’ll leave you to it.” Finch began to get up, but Albert gently grabbed his wrist.
“Stay.”
“I’m just right over there.” Finch pointed to his bed just across the way.
“Fin,” Albert whispered.
Holy shit.
That did something. Finch shook his head.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll stay.” Finch stood by the bed, unsure of what to do. Albert turned over. He snaked his hands around Finch’s waist, pulling him closer to the bed.
“Come on,” Albert whined. He’s such a baby. Finch froze for a second.
“I- uh. okay.” Finch whispered. He took off his shoes and climbed into the bed. He kept a safe distance between them. He lay there awkwardly. Albert turned to face him. He just stared for a second. “What?” he whispered.
“Nothing.” Albert smiled. He shifted in the bed, cradling himself against Finch’s abdomen. His head resting on his chest. His arm snaked around his waist, his hand resting on his stomach. Holy shit. Finch felt hot. He carefully put his arm around him. He fit so perfectly. He smelled really good. He was still in his sweatshirt. He gently carded his fingers through Albert’s hair. This was heaven, Finch decided. His fast heartbeat was a stark contrast to Albert's slow and calm one. Albert was fast asleep, he had been for a while. Finch decided to join him.