It was already late when Dylan got home, having had to take Stephanie back to her place—a trip that took almost two hours.
When he arrived, Flynn was tidying up his things, having just finished working on their assignments.
"Here, I already did yours too," Flynn said, handing Dylan his notebook.
"Eh?! Wow, you really worry about me a lot. I must be super special to you," Dylan teased with a grin.
"Shut up. I only did it because you and Steph treated me to dinner," Flynn replied, trying to sound casual.
Dylan chuckled and began unpacking his stuff before sitting on his bed. "Do you really think it was a good idea for your dad to add another bed here? Look—there's barely any space left. We can't even move properly anymore."
"Why not? It fits just fine. Besides, this is even better, I can finally sleep properly in my own bed," Flynn said, before throwing himself onto the bed with a satisfied sigh.
Dylan stripped off his clothes and climbed into his bed. He leaned over and switched off the lamp between his bed and Flynn's, letting the room fall into a soft, quiet darkness.
He kept shifting—tossing, turning, never quite settling, as if the bed suddenly felt wrong under him. He glanced over at Flynn, who was sprawled out and already impossible relaxed.
"Hey, Flynn, you asleep?" Dylan asked.
Flynn didn't answer. Because of that, Dylan decided to make some noise instead. He started singing nonsense in the worst, most off-key voice imaginable to annoy him.
Flynn couldn't take the noise any longer and finally snapped. "Dylan, you just moved in, but at this rate, I might kick you out tomorrow. If you don't want to sleep, at least let someone else get some rest."
"Then let me sleep beside you," Dylan said.
"What's the point of getting you your own bed then?" Flynn shot back.
"I just want someone next to me."
"Then go sleep in my dad's room. Cuddle with him instead—since you're so close now."
"I want you," Dylan said, grinning.
Flynn sighed deeply, clearly losing patience. "Dylan, you're a grown man. Why do you still need someone beside you when you sleep? Even your girlfriend's starting to wonder what's wrong with you."
"I just want to sleep next to you. Besides, we're both guys."
"That's exactly the problem, we're both guys. And honestly, you're starting to creep me out."
"Then just sing me to sleep," Dylan teased.
"No way," Flynn muttered flatly.
"Fine, I'll sing for myself then," Dylan said, then started humming Can't Help Falling in Love in the worst, most off-key pitch possible to annoy Flynn again.
It didn't take long before Flynn finally gave in. "Alright, alright—just stop that noise. But you'd better fall asleep after this."
Dylan grinned and settled comfortably on his bed as Flynn began to sing. Knowing the song Dylan had been quietly humming, Flynn chose to sing that one.
"Wise men say
Only fools rush in
But I can't help falling in love with you..."
Damn it... he's really singing this? Dylan's chest tightened. Yeah, maybe I am a fool. A fool for staying this close to him, for wanting something I shouldn't. But I can't help it... every time I look at him, the way he smiles, the way he gets annoyed at me—it's pulling me in deeper. I shouldn't feel this way... but I can't stop.
"Shall I stay?
Would it be a sin"
Is it wrong to want him like this? Yeah, it probably is. But how do I walk away when this... feels so right?
"If I can't help falling in love with you?"
I never planned this. I never asked for it. But here I am... falling, tumbling into feelings I can't contain.
"Like a river flows
Surely to the sea"
It's like that, isn't it? No matter how hard I resist it, I'm always being pulled toward him.
"Darling, so it goes
Some things are meant to be..."
Meant to be? Maybe not in his eyes. Maybe only in mine... and that thought hurts more than it should.
"Take my hand
Take my whole life, too"
If only you would... if only I could speak the words swirling in my chest without scaring you away.
"For I can't help falling in love with you..."
Yeah, Flynn... I can't help it. Not anymore. I wish I could tell you... tell you what I feel. But I can't. Not yet.
Flynn's singing is just too beautiful, hitting every note perfectly, and it resonates exactly with the feelings Dylan has been trying to sort out in his heart. Every word mirrors what he feels for Flynn, leaving him awed and a little overwhelmed.
He tugs at the covers subconsciously, suppressing the lump forming in his throat, trying not to let Flynn see how affected he is. At the same time, he keeps his eyes closed and pretends to be asleep as Flynn continues to sing.
---
After Flynn finished singing, he glanced over at Dylan, who appeared to be fast asleep — eyes closed, mouth slightly open, letting out a faint snore. Flynn smirk before closing his eyes.
A few minutes later, Dylan slowly opened one eye. Once he was sure Flynn was asleep, he carefully sat up, tiptoeing toward Flynn's bed. With a mischievous grin, he quietly slipped under the blanket beside him.
"Ahh! F*ck!"
Dylan shot up instantly, clutching his back in pain. The room filled with Flynn's uncontrollable laughter. He switched the lamp back on and pulled something out from under the bedsheet — a rose stem, its thorns glinting under the light. He held it up triumphantly, grinning from ear to ear.
"What the hell is that doing there?!" Dylan groaned, trying to reach behind him to rub the sore spot where the thorns had poked him.
"Hahaha... I knew what you were planning from the start," Flynn said between laughs. "So I came prepared, just in case you actually tried it!"
"You never run out of ideas, do you?" Dylan grumbled. "What if you were the one who ended up lying on it while you slept huh?"
"Impossible," Flynn shot back, still smirking. "I don't toss and turn like you do. I wouldn't have put it there if I thought I'd roll over it myself."
"You're unbelievable," Dylan muttered before heading back to his bed.