26.

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When it came down to it, there were more reasons why Nick and Blake should be friends than there were reasons they shouldn't be. Reasons to be friendly: peace of mind as long as they lived together for the both of them, and no more awkwardness during meetups with Sem and Blake at home. Reasons not to be friends: ...none. 

None Nick could tell Blake about, anyway. Imagine telling him: 'Hey, that guy I took home the other night planted stupid ideas in my head about what it'd be like to kiss you, and now it's all weird. That's why we can't be friends.' 

Nick couldn't blame Blake for a single thing. In an outburst he'd told Blake what bothered him, and Blake had instantly stopped doing those things. He'd traded mocking-teasing for compliment-teasing, which was in some ways worse. There was nothing wrong, except Nick doing what he was great at: screwing things up for himself. 

Filled with self-loathing, Nick gathered his study materials in his room because he and Blake were supposed to try and study together. When he came back to the living room, Blake had already settled himself on the couch with a blanket, a thick textbook, and a laptop. While Blake wasn't short, he was slender, and there was something extremely adorable about seeing him buried in a blanket twice his size and a huge book in his lap.

When Blake glanced up at him, Nick realised he was staring and he quickly looked away. His eyes landed on the kitchen entrance. "I'm going to make tea. Do you, uh, want some too?" 

"Yes, great idea. That's what I was still missing," Blake replied. 

Nick heard the smile in Blake's voice, and the mental image of Blake grinning while wrapped in a blanket with a cup of tea in his hands was even cuter. Nick's insides twisted and turned as he fled into the kitchen. This was rapidly getting worse. His overactive brain couldn't stop noticing new details and consider new scenarios. But he'd been here before. With Emma. He could easily sit on the couch next to Blake and watch a movie. Nothing would happen except quiet pining. He did it with Emma for years, and he could do it again. 

Fuck, he didn't want to do it again. This was exactly why Nick told himself to expect nothing from hanging out with Lara. Blake, however, blindsided him completely. This wasn't fair. Nick filled the electric kettle with water, and cursed at how fast the device was. He was on his way to the living room with two piping hot cups of tea within no time. 

Blake had dimmed the light, and Nick recognised the opening scene of Lord of the Rings paused on the television screen. He put the tea in front of Blake on the salon table. Then he took a seat on the couch, as far away from Blake as possible... which wasn't all that far, considering the couch wasn't big and Blake took up over half of the space by slouching. 

Nick waited for Blake to press play or say something to him, but neither happened. Nick only felt Blake's eyes on him. When he looked, Blake grinned. 

"Relax. Take your shoes off. Lay down," he said. "You're not in a classroom." 

Now that Blake mentioned it, Nick noticed he was sitting on the couch like he was in a military exam. Rigid, straight back, feet planted firmly on the floor, and his hands folded in his lap. Nick cleared his throat and tried to do what Blake said. At the very least he leaned back and tried to relax his muscles. It didn't really work as long as Nick continued to be very aware there was only a few inches of distance between Blake's feet and his thigh on this couch. 

Blake must've noticed he wasn't really relaxing, but had mercy and started the movie without further remarks. At first Nick feared he'd spend his entire night hyperaware of Blake next to him and he wouldn't be able to enjoy the old fantasy classic at all. But by the time the hobbits left the Shire, Nick got sucked into the story. Since Blake didn't speak, he didn't either. They both sipped their tea quietly while watching the movie. At some point, Nick forgot Blake was right there. More or less. He could never completely forget, but he calmed down for as far as possible. They achieved a movie-watching equilibrium. 

And then Blake had to ruin it by moving.  

Blake's foot suddenly brushed against Nick's thigh and rested there. The movement could've been accidental but if so, Nick expected him to shift again. Blake didn't move, however, and Nick's skin prickled and burned where they touched. 

Slowly, Nick turned to look at Blake, his heart pounding and wondering if he was going to find a teasing grin and sparkling eyes. He found neither. Blake's eyes were closed. His laptop was all but dangling off the edge of the couch, and Nick leaned in and grabbed it quickly before it could fall. 

The moment Nick stood to bring the computer to the safety of the salon table, Blake immediately seized the free space on the couch and stretched his legs. He left Nick with nowhere to sit unless Nick grabbed his legs and pushed them aside. With any other 'friend', Nick would've done that without question. He would've woken Sem up with an audio clip of a vuvuzela next to his ear and laugh at the way he jumped. 

There was no way he'd do that with Blake, who looked so peaceful and comfortable all sprawled out across the couch. Nick internally debated what to do. Gently wake Blake up to watch the rest of the movie or letting him sleep. Maybe Blake had an exam tomorrow and wasting precious studying time didn't fit the schedule. 

Behind Nick, Gandalf was locked in an epic battle with a balrog, but Nick stared at Blake, watching his serene face and slightly parted, full lips. He couldn't wake Blake up when he looked like this. With a sigh, Nick grabbed the remote and turned off the television. Then took Blake's book and placed it next to the laptop, brought their teacups to the dishwasher, and wiped the ring marks left by their cups off the surface of the salon table. 

Nick wanted to turn off the lights and sneak out of the living room, but his eyes fell on Blake one last time. He was only half-covered by the blanket. His legs and feet would get cold this way, but tucking him in was kind of a strange thing to do, wasn't it? It felt like he wasn't supposed to do that, at least. 

Nick's cheeks burned. He shouldn't, but he'd think about it all night if he didn't move the blanket now. It wasn't a big deal. Just a friendly gesture that didn't have to be romantic in any shape way or form, even if it was... Was it? Nick snapped himself out of it. He didn't need to question that right here while standing in the living room. Blake clearly wasn't an overthinker and wouldn't search for any meaning behind it. Besides, the guy was fast asleep. He wouldn't even know Nick did it.

Nick tiptoed back to the couch. He reached for the blanket, carefully avoiding touching Blake, and pulled it down slightly to cover Blake's legs and feet. Satisfied with his work, Nick wanted to turn and finally leave the living room. Before he could, however, Blake cracked one eye open. 

"Hey, Nick?" he mumbled. 

Nick froze. Busted. "Uh, yeah?" he stammered. 

A satisfied smile spread across Blake's face as he shut his eye again. "Being on your good side is nice." 


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