When Nick woke up in the morning, he no longer felt like his bloodstream was 99% Sambuca, but it was definitely still hovering around the 50% point. Frankly, it was a good thing. The drunk stupor Nick had been in last night kept him calm enough to fall asleep, and it also kept him from flinging himself out of his bedroom window now.

Nick knew Blake was already awake and in the living room. He'd smelled bacon when he snuck to the bathroom, after procrastinating on getting out of bed until his bladder was about to burst. For a while, the plan was to play dead until Blake left the apartment because he'd be late for school if he waited around longer. But as the clock kept ticking, past the time their first class started, Blake still showed no signs of leaving. It seemed he was specifically waiting for Nick in the living room, or he didn't have class this morning. Either way, Blake was staying put.

All Nick could think about was that Blake couldn't be serious. There was no way he literally wanted Nick to repeat what he'd said last night. It must've been a sarcastic brush-off—a 'yeah right, tell me that again when you're sober' because he knew Nick would never repeat his words soberly. Or worse: it was a set-up with a hidden camera and Nick would be the unwilling star of a TikTok video later. No matter what it was, it wasn't a genuine offer to... to whatever it meant to call each other cute. And if it was serious, well, that thought caused not waves but tsunamis of nerves.

Nick paced his bedroom, glancing at the clock every ten seconds until he could no longer take it. Blake clearly wasn't going anywhere, and Nick had stupidly left his laptop on the salon table. If he wanted to get any work done today, he couldn't keep avoiding the living room. Blake hadn't meant it anyway. He probably wouldn't even mention last night. He'd say good morning, tease him about being late, and ask if he wanted bacon for breakfast. It was all just a joke.

Nick didn't believe a single thing he told himself—last night did not feel like a joke—but it was the only way he could find the courage to walk into the hall, and, after a few deep breaths, open the living room door. Due to the nerves, every movement Nick made was a bit rougher than he intended, and he made an accidental dramatic entrance by throwing the door open way too hard.

Blake sat on the couch with a steaming cup in his hands. His eyes shot up to Nick while Nick scrambled to grab the doorknob in time to stop the door from slamming into the wall.

Nick cringed at his entrance and contemplated running out again.

Blake took a sip of his hot beverage. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he said.

"Uh, morning," Nick muttered back.

There was a moment of silence in which Blake took another sip of his drink, and Nick planned on crossing the room to grab his laptop and flee with the excuse of having to go to class. That plan required walking to the salon table right in front of Blake, however. Blake's eyes followed Nick as he came closer. He only raised an amused brow and didn't say anything as Nick snatched his laptop from the table, but once it was clear Nick planned on dashing out of the room again, he said, "wait a second."

Nick flinched. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then turned around to face Blake. "Yeah?"

Blake had placed his cup on the salon table and looked up at Nick expectantly with his hands folded in his lap. "Don't you have anything to say to me?"

Please, don't do this to me and I don't know what you're talking about came to mind as responses.

"Sambuca hits hard," blurted out of Nick's mouth instead.

Blake stared at him.

"A-and I'm not entirely sober yet."

"You seem sober enough to me." Blake smiled and tilted his head to the side. "You want me to go first? Okay. I think you're cute."

Nick's face exploded. While all the blood from his entire body rapidly flooded to his cheeks, Nick's eyes darted to the table, to Blake's hands, to the couch, to the windows, but Blake's phone was nowhere to be found. If this was a practical joke, Blake had really gone out of his way to hide it.

"I, uh," Nick stammered. "Thanks, you too, I guess."

Blake's eyes grew wide, and he let out a laugh. "I swear to—come on, let's stop playing around already." Blake's smile faded and he patted the spot on the couch next to him. "Sit down."

If Blake had only been playing around so far, Nick wasn't sure he'd survive Blake being serious. Nevertheless, he nodded and did as Blake asked. He tentatively approached the couch and sat next to Blake, at a safe distance away. He followed Blake's example and folded his hands, resting them on top of his laptop. Nick caught their reflections in the television screen, and they looked as ridiculous as this felt— sitting there next to each other with their hands in their laps.

Blake sighed. "This is a little anti-climactic, Nick."

"Sorry," Nick automatically mumbled. But sorry for what, really? He didn't know what he was apologising for. Was Blake expecting him to make a move here?

"I mean, what do you expect me to—" Nick looked up at Blake, and the wind got knocked out of his lungs as he found himself staring into Blake's dark eyes from up way too close. "Do?" he breathed the last word of his sentence.

In response, Blake scooted closer. "I already told you what I want to do," he said, giving Nick a once-over. "To see where this goes."

If you asked Nick, the only place he was going right now was straight into cardiac arrest. Nick's heart skipped beats, but his brain never stopped running. It seemed clear what Blake wanted, but what if he was still misreading the situation? What if Blake didn't want Nick to make a move and he stupidly leaned in?

"I'm—I'm a little confused here," Nick stuttered, eyes drifting down to Blake's lips. "Just to be sure: do you want me to kiss you?"

Blake groaned. "Oh my God. Nick, how much thicker do I have to lay it on here? Yes, I want you to kiss me."

"Oh, okay. Right. I, uh, I will do that then."

Nick couldn't stop the tremble in his hands as shifted on the couch to face Blake and reached for his shoulders first. Mercifully, Blake was wearing a ribbed sweater and Nick wasn't directly touching his skin, but rather rough fabric. Nick's brain yelled at him that touching Blake's shoulders was already too much and to stop before he'd fuck this up and turn Blake off forever. Almost, he got up and told Blake he couldn't do this. But then he looked up and met Blake's eyes. What he saw caught him off guard: a hint of nervousness. Nick had never seen Blake be anything but self-assured, even when he was being bullied.

Strangely enough, seeing that Blake was nervous too made Nick calm. As calm as he could be with a pounding heart and a head filled with anxiety-riddled thoughts centring around Blake not actually wanting to make out even if he said he wanted it.

"Nick," Blake murmured. He yanked Nick out of his doom thoughts by placing his hands on Nick's upper arms. Blake's hands were warm, but goosebumps spread across Nick's skin at the light touch.

Blake shut his eyes. "Stop thinking and just do it."

Nick stared at Blake's parted lips. He breathed in and out sharply. "Okay," he said. Then he braced himself, leaned in, and pressed his lips firmly to Blake's in one swift movement. Blake's shoulders jolted in surprise under Nick's palms, his muscles taut.

Nick was absolutely terrified the first second. Alarm bells rang in his head, screaming at him that he was kissing Blake Passant, what the hell was he doing.

And then, fireworks.

They didn't need awkward, hesitant movements to try things out. They didn't need time to find each other's rhythm. It was like Blake was in his head and already knew exactly what Nick liked; slow and gentle with roaming hands all over his back that made Nick's skin tingle... and full and soft lips. Especially the full and soft lips that seemed to move perfectly against Nick's as they deepened their kiss. Oh, god, but he couldn't forget about Blake's hands. His hands. Blake slid his palms to Nick's waist and then to his abs. He traced muscles through Nick's sweater with a soft moan that made Nick shiver.

The weirdest part was that this should've been weird. He and Blake had gone from high school 'enemies' to reluctant acquaintances by association, to roommates making out on a couch. Heavily making out on a couch with not a chance of stopping any time soon. Somewhere between heated kisses, Blake's thigh had ended up brushing against Nick's, and Nick grabbed it without thinking. Blake gasped in surprise as Nick tugged on his leg and waist and pulled him onto his lap.

Blake broke their kiss with round eyes. Immediately, dread filled Nick and he let go of Blake's thigh like it was burning his fingers. Blake's hand was on Nick's hand in a flash and he placed it back on his thigh. "No, don't stop," Blake breathed. "You just surprised me."

"Okay, good." Nick sighed and wanted to lean in again. But as his eyes fell on Blake's cheeks he suddenly realised he saw something beside nervousness that he'd never seen before.

"Wait, are you blushing?"

Blake frowned and pressed his lips together at being called out. "What did you expect? I'm living about seven high school fantasies at once here, okay? Leave me alone."

"Wait, I was a high school fantasy?"

Blake's brow wrinkled further, but his eyes sparkled. "Oh, shut up," he said. He didn't give Nick a chance to retort; he pressed his lips to Nick's again to make sure he'd shut up.