An hour into Carter's dreamless, almost coma-like sleep, he was awakened by the doorbell. Someone was repeatedly punching the doorbell. Did they intend to break it? (It certainly seemed so.)

Carter stood up drowsily, his covers wrapped around his shoulders like a cloak. He let it drag along the floor, wincing at the noise as he made his way to the front door (whoever was there was still hitting the doorbell like their life depended on it) and opened it.

Carter squinted in the darkness. Apparently, the sun had set. "London?"

"Oh—Carter! I heard you were sick, so I brought you stuff." London grinned, holding up a Starbucks cup. "I came directly from work. I would've come right after Lauren texted me, but I don't get off 'til later."

Lauren never informed him that she and London had exchanged numbers. "Oh. Sure." Carter turned around indifferently, wrapping his blanket around himself tighter. It was getting cold, nearing the end of October. 

London invited himself in, unzipping his jacket and setting the paper cup on the counter. "So, how are you doing? Do you have a fever? Maybe you should lie down."

"I was lying down until you came."

"Oh. Sorry." London chuckled sheepishly, sliding his backpack off and setting it on the floor. "Go lie down. Do you need anything? Are you hungry? Should I go pick up some Advil?"

"We have Advil," Carter said, frowning as he sat down on the couch, readjusting his makeshift cape. "You don't need to be here. I can manage."

"Lauren told me you were 'practically dying,' when I texted her," London said, looking at him oddly. "You do look pale, though. Go lie down. Do you want me to bring you a glass of water or something?"

"No, that's fine." At the mention of his sister, their earlier conversation squeezed its way into Carter's thoughts and a warm blush spread across his cheeks. "You really don't have to be here, London."

London grinned at him from the counter. "Of course, I do. That's what friends are for, right? Especially since you live alone."

"Uh... I guess," Carter confessed. "Don't you live alone, too, though?"

"Yeah." London took the Starbucks cup off the counter. "Do you want some? It's a chai latte if you're feeling up to it."

Carter accepted the cup, wrapping his fingers around the warm base. "Where do your parents live?"

London smiled tightly at Carter. "Not here."

Carter flushed. "Oh, uh, sorry, I didn't—"

"No, it's okay," London chuckled, staring at the floor. "They just don't live nearby is what I meant."

"Sorry for bringing it up." Carter popped the lid off the cup and took a sip of the cooled-down drink. "Thanks for the latte."

"That's fine." London laughed again. "You're welcome."

"If you don't mind me bringing it up again, I'm sort of curious about you," Carter commented, toying with the cardboard sleeve on the cup.

London leaned back on the counter, his arms crossed loosely. "What do you mean?"

"Like, your family, where you came from, whatever..." Carter trailed off. "If that's okay with you."

"No, it's fine," London said with a shake of his head. "I was raised here by my dad. My parents divorced when I was four and I've visited my mum around the holidays every year. My dad moved for business a year ago and I just stayed here for my own work."

"So now you're alone?" Carter asked, his eyebrows drawing together in concern.

"Eh, it's not that bad," London brushed off, looking away. His cheeks were pink. "I manage just fine."

Carter crossed his legs up on the couch, letting his covers pool around his waist and smiling a little bit. "You're pretty cool, London."

"Uh—" London swallowed, blushing harder. "How so?"

"Well, you work a lot, but you don't stress out. And you're always really happy." Carter shrugged. "If I worked three jobs and lived alone I would probably give up and fall into a state of depression and self-loathing two weeks into it, but you've managed for a long time now."

London smiled back. "I would only say two jobs, and I only bring around coffee as a relatively new intern, so I'm pretty much serving overpriced drinks and snacks full time."

Carter laughed. "Okay, but still. It has to be a lot of stress, right? I still think you're cool for being able to do that."

London averted his eyes. "Thanks. I think you're okay, too."

Carter cleared his throat, reddening when he realised that he was the one leading the conversation for the first time in a long time. "Uh, whoa, I'm tired, I think I'm going to bed."

London's head snapped up at that, reverting to his usual state. "Do you need anything? Water? Advil? Food?"

"I told you, I'm fine," Carter said with a roll of his eyes. "Now go away."

~~~

Carter had decided to let London stay at his house when a thunderstorm had begun outside and Carter deemed it unsafe for London to walk back home by himself. Besides, Carter didn't have classes tomorrow and London worked in the late afternoon that day, so it was probably alright.

London drummed his fingers on the tabletop, staring at his laptop screen with a blank expression on his face. What time was it—Two in the morning? Maybe three?

"Well, you work a lot, but you don't stress out. And you're always really happy."

London rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Of course, Carter would think London was happy—that was what he had meant to do. With everyone, really. If London looked happy, what could be wrong?

Of course, London stressed out. He worked three jobs at once. So why was he breaking down now?

London hugged his right leg to his chest and rested his chin on his knee, continuing to stare at the wall of text he had rewritten a third time now.

London couldn't read any of it.

He highlighted it all with a simple key combination and the words disappeared—could he skip this week's post? Maybe he could delay it for a while. No, he didn't know who could be reading. A future employer. His parents. Nia. He would end up panicking about it if he put it off.

London sighed, lowering his head and resting his forehead against the keyboard. One thousand to two thousand words was what he needed—what could he possibly write about for a thousand whole words?

He didn't hear the door opening and someone walking up behind him.

"What the fuck are you doing this late?"

London jolted up in surprise, his heart skipping a beat as he panicked—until he realised it was just Carter. "I've never heard you swear before," he said when he could trust his voice again.

"Fuck." Carter rubbed his eyes. "Are you writing again? You know, it's not that big of an issue if you delay your post a day or so."

London ignored the part of him in the back of his head that swooned when someone as adorable as Carter said 'fuck' and shook his head. "I know, but I couldn't sleep, so I decided to be productive," London lied.

Carter tilted his head at London curiously. "We have sleeping pills, you know. You could've just asked."

"You seem to have a lot of pills. And, no thank you, I'm used to it."

"Well, I'm sure every household holds some sort of stock of over-the-counter drugs." Carter pulled out the stool next to him and yawned as he sat down. "Still. You should sleep. It's not good for you."

London chuckled quietly. "I was actually under the impression that sleeping is, in fact, good for you."

Carter glared at him. "You know what I meant."

London let the smile stay on his lips. "I know. But I've survived this long. I can sleep when I'm not as busy."

"'Not as busy,' meaning when, exactly?"

London frowned. "Someday."

Carter scoffed. "London, sleep."

"You should, too," London replied. "Speaking of which, why are you awake?"

Carter looked away. "No reason. I just am."

London raised an eyebrow. "Was it too cold, or something? Want me to bring an extra blanket?"

"No," Carter said, continuing to look at anywhere but London. "I just woke up."

London sighed after a few moments, closing his laptop. "Okay, I'll sleep with you."

Carter choked on his breath, standing up quickly. 'Sleep with me?"

"Wait—no, no, I meant, like, uh, go to bed at the same time as you—" London stopped while he inwardly reprimanded himself, wishing he could vanish from existence at that moment.

"Yeah, okay," Carter said awkwardly. "You're alright on the couch, right?"

London nodded, shoving his laptop into his backpack stiffly and walking over to the couch. "Uh... see you in the morning."

Carter nodded, scratching the back of his neck. "Night."

Before Carter could walk into his room and close the door, London spoke up, "Why did you really wake up?" he asked, clearly not accepting his previous answers anymore.

Carter bit his lip. "Um, no reason."

"No, really."

Carter sucked in a sharp breath, poking his head through the doorway to look at London again. "I had a nightmare, nothing big," he said after a long moment.

London paused. "Oh." Another pause. "What was it about?"

Carter cringed. "Do you really want to know? It's really stupid."

London nodded. "Go ahead."

"Uh, it's kind of long."

London smiled, patting the spot beside him on the couch. "Come on. We have all night."

~~~

[a/n] 

ok so i have been updating a lot bc i have no life and writing is all i do

i am spoiling u i hope ur happy