Notes

3.

"Please."
André begged him. How could Firmin deny those eyes? That plump lip, pouted out? His lips looked so soft. He just wanted to press his own against them. Firmin sat in the armchair beside André's bed. André beckoned to him, holding out his hand.
"What's wrong?
Come here. Closer."
Firmin rolled his eyes and scooted the chair closer to the bed. André held out his hand and firmly grasped Firmin's. A sleepy smile dancing on his lips. Firmin blushed furiously as he watched André try to sleep. His pink lips slightly parted. His muscular chest rise and sink with each breath. Firmin closed his eyes. He'd had a long day. Bills, letters and André's freak out. He didn't mind this so much. He liked holding his hand, not having to keep his affection for him hidden. Sure, it was wrong. He was his coworker, but also man. Firmin shouldn't be feeling this way about a man. He huffed and let the blackness of sleep consume him.
About an hour later Firmin was awoken by André's soft whimpering. He groggily looked over at him, noticing that their hands were still intwined. André was stirring and moving violently, having a nightmare. Firming didn't want to wake him. But he didn't know how to calm him down without doing so. Then it clicked. He softly let go of his hand and as carefully as possible crawled into the bed. Firmin pulled André close to him. As soon as he did this André stopped. His breathing went back to his soft cat-like snore. A small grin stretched across his perfect lips that Firmin wanted oh, so desperately to feel against his own. He closed his eyes and sighed. Holding his beloved in his chest. Protecting him from the world around them. Soon, Firmin happily met sleep again.