shi-no-toge:

hanakotobawakodoku:

Entirely unaware that he had an audience, Eric kept it up. His movements were fluid, hips inspired to sway with the music and feet bouncing against the bed in time. Yes, he was the sort to go about dancing on his bed. And while he wasn’t bad at it, it seemed his balance needed a little work — for one wrong step and he was sent (in a fit of loud shouts and cursing) tumbling to the ground with a crash. Sheets tangled around his legs and hair disheveled.

Alan spent most of his day drifting in and out of sleep, not wanting to even try to face the day. He got up once to eat a slice of toast and use the restroom, then crawled back into his bed. He wondered if was worried about him at all, but shook the thought away sadly. If Eric cared he wouldn’t have held him. He wouldn’t have kissed him. If Eric had really cared he wouldn’t have done those things and then pretended they never happened. He lay flat on his back, staring numbly at the ceiling as memories of the previous two days flashed through his mind. He couldn’t make sense of it.

At the end of a very long day, Eric locked up his office and tossed a few halfhearted goodbyes to his coworkers. On his way out, he passed by Alan’s desk. Paperwork had really piled up and cluttered most of the free space. He grunted and collected all of it in his arms. Best drop these off so he wouldn’t get behind. He knew how Alan hated falling behind. 

He smoked nearly a whole pack of cigarettes on the walk to the other reaper’s flat. When he reached his front door, he stared at it for a few moments in favor of actually knocking. Finally, he wrapped his knuckles against the door.