[Insert Clever Gale-related Title Here]

Warm. Your body sinks further into the cushioning of the sofa. You're so warm, blissfully so. Contented, the weight of the body pressing against yours is comforting, arms wrapped around you tight. You've slept like shit lately, the pressing weight of deadlines, expectations, everything really. But you can feel none of that now. The little furry body wedged between you, still purring faintly, the way your head rests against a shoulder… The rogue sun-beam making its way through the blinds. It must be late morning, Gale is probably late for class, you definitely are, but you can't quite make yourself care, not with the way your body melts against his, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the beating of his heart.

You'll find it in yourself to feel guilty about this later. The way you'd migrated across the couch, from your initial perch in your own corner to his. Small pretenses, wanting to be closer to Tara, him hogging the popcorn. Gale didn't seem to mind, inviting you in under his blanket, giving you that smile. The one you've spent weeks trying to convince yourself doesn't mean what you want it to mean. It's just his smile, any fondness or, god forbid, love, in it is only really there in your mind. Because you want it to be? Or maybe just because you've felt so alone for so long that you just can't handle having someone being there without going a bit weird with it. It's a you problem, not a him problem.

Regardless, it doesn't matter, that he had let you settle in closer, how his arm had wound itself around your shoulders. How he'd let your head rest against his chest. You must have fallen asleep. Logical really. You'd just turned in a draft for your mid-term essay, five minutes before the deadline, after two full days of agonizing about it. You'd been exhausted, run ragged, before you'd even started the movie. Partly you think that might have been Gale's reason for suggesting a movie night, for loading you up with snacks, and ice cream, and a pick of movie from your list of suggestions. He's been stressed too, you've seen the dark bags under his eyes the past few weeks. But he hadn't let you argue.

Maybe this is the first time you've both gotten enough sleep in weeks. Even more of a reason to not ruin it with the hysterics you can feel building in you as he shifts in his sleep, cheek coming to rest on top of your head, arms flexing around you. Instead you fight against it. After all, there is nothing odd in shared closeness between roommates. Nothing wrong with the way his hold on you tightens, the way your face buries in his chest. It's comfort. Both of you shielded from the reality of deadlines and expectations.

Gale stirs beneath you, and you debate playing dead. Or at least dead asleep. But with the way your mind is already racing, it feels pointless anyways.

"Morning." he grumbles, like this is a perfectly normal way to wake up. It nearly makes you want to laugh.

"Morning." you answer in kind, more than willing to let him set the tone. After all, you're sure he's the one with the reality based grasp on the situation. Although you can feel your resolve slip as his arms tighten around you absently, he groans.

"What time is it?" his voice is still thick with sleep, and you fight to keep your body relaxed as he buries his face in your hair. Aimless fingers search for your phone, his phone, any time telling device nearby, but get sidetracked burying themselves beneath his loose t-shirt, seeking warmth. Gale hisses, but doesn't move away, lets you press your full palm to the skin of his back.

"I don't know." you answer around a yawn, your own face buried in his chest, evading the sunbeam. For a terrible lucid moment you wonder what the fuck you are actually doing. What he is doing, not immediately getting up, moving away from you. What you are doing, letting him feed your own delusions. But it's fine, this is fine, you're friends. Friends do this right? You listen to his heart, beating steady beneath you, and you find yourself relaxing again. Right. This is normal for friends. Normal for Gale, normal for you.

Tara's little head hitting your arm breaks you back out of your spiral. She headbutts you again when you don't immediately move to accommodate her. You lift your arm slightly, hand dragging against Gale's back, exposing more of his warm skin to your still cold fingers, you let Tara snuggle in beneath it, so her little head fits under your chin, body resting against Gale's chest.

"Now we can't move." you murmur, less for Gale, more for the cat, turning to press a kiss to her furry little head. Gale hums beneath you in what you think is sleepy agreement, his own arm moving so he can drape it over both Tara and you. Tara purrs contently.

"We're late." he says it like it's an afterthought, but like he can't quite let go of the need to state the obvious. You don't want to move. And some small selfish part of you allows you to consider that he might not want to move either. You hum, acknowledgement, but with Tara snuggled up against you like a tiny purring space heater, the blanket still draped over your legs, and Gale's solid chest beneath your head you feel yourself start to drift again.

"Don't care—" you offer sleepily. "Don't wanna go to class." you know you sound petulant, but in your defense you're so comfortable. You feel Gale laugh softly, fingers tracing patterns where they rest on your waist.

"I don't want to either." he admits into your hair, like it's a secret you're both sharing. A sleepy smile works its way onto your face. "Let's just stay here.." he breathes. "Just for a little longer." And really, who are you to argue?