Chapter Text
"You're an asshole, you know that Jules? If this was reserved, I'd let you sleep on my fucking face for all I care."
Julian cringed at the misspoken insult, stupid as Ricky could be, it was true, and for once in Ricky's life he wasn't to blame for the bullet wound feathering bruises along his ribs.
It had been Julian's idea to jack the car and Julian's idea to sell it to J-roc, of course, he had no clue anyone would be willing to shoot more than just tires to get it back, but it didn't matter. Now Ricky was hurt because of his half-assed plan and to make matters worse Julian's offer to stay with him had proven just as bad.
His couch was absolutely wrecked, springs bulging just below the fabric of every cushion; he should have known not to trust Ricky when he promised to go right to sleep. He should have known it meant nothing when he woke up to Ricky climbing silently into his bed, instead, he'd yelled and pushed him to the floor, effectively ruining any chance of redemption he'd had by offering to take care of him.
The thought rested uncomfortably in the forefront of his mind, eyes still heavy with sleep and body rushing with surprise, his hand clenched instinctively around nothing. His tumbler, left half empty on the nightstand, trembled slightly as Ricky slammed his hand down to steady himself getting back up.
"I'm fucking shot man, let me sleep in a real bed for once. You're worse than Lucy, I got nowhere to go, and yer making me sleep on the fucking floor. Real fucking nice. I'd never do this shit to you, Julian."
Despite the dark, Julian could see so clearly what Ricky must look like, everything from his red face and flaring nostrils to the way the corners of his upper lip often seemed to twitch when he yelled, like a stray dog doing its best not to snap its jaw at the sight of food.
"Shut up, Ricky. Go to bed."
"Yeah, I'm trying man, but this prick won't fucking let me," he huffed, leaning in and pulling the blanket back to punctuate his point.
"In your bed," Julian said, exhausted, pinching his temple in an attempt to slow his mind still racing with the thought of his friend fervent and now so close his breath, warm and tinged with smoke, lapped at Julian's face.
"What bed? that pile of crap? "Why won't you just move over and stop being so fucking stuck up all the time? Why not?" Ricky nipped. "Am I really that bad, so goddamn disgusting and greasy, you can't even let me sleep in your bed for one fucking night?" His voice suddenly softer and coated with a level of actual hurt Julian rarely heard.
"I'm not like you Ricky, I just can't, okay?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Julian wanted to cry; here he was, alone in a room with Ricky halfway into his bed, and yet he couldn't help but mourn that this was the closest he'd ever get. Never pull him onto him, never wake up next to him, never fuck him or kiss him or do a million other things guys like him weren't supposed to do.
Weren't supposed to want to do either.