his name

Part 5

Roger is lying in his bed, curled up on his side, staring at the phone screen. Despite his best efforts to stay awake, his eyes keep closing. He stubbornly opens them every time, though, wishing he could make the numbers on the clock change faster.

Just as they switch to 12:31, the door to the bedroom creaks open and a stream of light from the hall falls into the room. Roger doesn't move but he smiles, closing his eyes as he listens to the light footsteps of his lover. John.

"Rog?" John leans over him, gently touching his hair. Roger hums in response, not opening his eyes. "Did I wake you?"

He replies with another intelligible hum. He hears John laugh softly and then his fiancé leaves the room, probably to wash and change. Roger feels calmer just knowing he's home; he could fall asleep now but he stays awake, listening to the sound of John's evening routine, by now just as familiar to him as it is to John. John always does things in the same order, as opposed to Roger, who, as John puts it, loves to incorporate chaos into every aspect of his life. Roger usually argues that chaos is the natural state of things and putting them in order requires much more effort, to which John reminds him that he wastes a lot of time because he forgets something or doesn't do it properly.

Sometimes it's a little tiring, being with someone who's almost always right. But Roger loves John too much to get upset about it.

For a moment the apartment is quiet and Roger worries John might have gone to sleep in his own room— they started off as roommates, to make it easier for them to work on their science projects, but ever since they got together, they usually sleep in the same bed, unless their schedules require them to wake up at completely different hours. Roger has a presentation at work tomorrow and he knows he should be asleep already, but he just really wants to feel John close to him. It's not that he's scared to sleep alone or that it makes him feel lonely, but he has gotten so used to sleeping with John that it's weird when he's not around. It's like he misses him, even if he's just in the other room.

But then he hears John enter the room again, and then he feels the bed beside him dip. John smells like his strawberries and Roger has the urge to hug him immediately, so, without a second thought, he turns over and wraps both his arms and legs around his lover. He more feels than hears John laugh as he buries his face in his neck.

"I thought you were asleep," John whispers. Roger makes a small sound, snuggling even closer. John is warm, he likes it. "God, you're like an extremely clingy monkey."

That wakes Roger up. Of all things, a monkey? "I'm not a monkey," he protests. "They're ugly. I'm pretty."

"Sure. A pretty monkey."

Roger huffs a laugh at that. "I'm a strong and pretty man, okay." He knows he's making an idiot out of himself, but it's okay because he gets to hear John giggle in amusement.

"A strong, pretty monkey." John pauses, shifting a little and wrapping his arms around Roger as well. "Does that make you a gorilla?"

Roger fakes a gasp. "I can't believe this. Are you into gorillas?"

John hums like he's considering. "No," he says then, voice filled with affection. "I'm into cute dorky people with pretty smiles." That's typical of John— he's too soft to tease for too long, at least when Roger is involved. Roger loves that about him, though. Joking around is natural for him, but deep inside he really likes sweet compliments.

"So I'm cute?" Roger asks quietly.

"Who said it was about you?" John retorts. Roger doesn't buy it at all, especially since the next thing John does is press a kiss to his hair. "Shouldn't you be asleep? You have to wake up early tomorrow."

"I know," Roger mumbles. "...Pet my hair?"

John snorts. "You're such a kid, you know." It's said with obvious fondness, though, and Roger feels John's fingers thread through his hair, petting him gently. He sighs contently, nuzzling his face into the crook of John's neck. Nothing in the world can feel better than this.

"Promise you'll stay?" He knows he's really being a whiny kid at this point but in truth, he's been nervous about the presentation and he doesn't want to be alone. Sometimes John changes beds in the middle of the night because of Roger's bad sleeping habit— he moves around so much that someone who's a pretty light sleeper like John has a hard time sleeping with him.

"As long as you don't kick me off the bed," John says, half-amused half fond. Roger smiles, reassured, and lets the drowsiness take over, lulled to sleep by John's calm breath and the soothing sensation of his fingers combing through his hair.

*******

He wakes up suddenly as if something startled him awake. His face is pressed against a hard, scratchy surface— he raises his head and he realizes it's the carpet. He's in the living room. He was sleeping on the sofa, and he must have fallen off it.

Strange. Before he had no trouble sleeping on it without moving even an inch. As he sits up, still drowsy and confused, he remembers the dream. It was so real and vivid, just like most of the dreams he's been having recently. He can almost still feel it. The warmth, the feeling of security, the love.

Except he's cold and alone, sitting here in the darkness. He thinks about getting up and going back to sleep, but then something makes his throat tighten his chest clench. He misses it. He's not sure if it was real, he's not sure if it was really him, but he misses being so close with John so much it hurts, it really hurts. He wishes he could just go into his room, crawl into his bed and hug him, like in those dreams, but he knows John wouldn't accept him, because he's not— he's not really that person who John was in love with, just some robot who happens to relive some of that person's memories.

He's not a real human being.

He's surprised when he feels warm wetness on his cheeks, and he touches them, confused— tears. He's never cried before, but now that he's started, he just can't stop. Instead of going back to sleep, he ends up sitting there on the floor crying, all alone.