Tops watched Win yawn for the umpteenth time since their FaceTime call began. They were having their daily talk a little later than usual, but Win insisted they talked before he went to bed. It had to have been around 2 AM in Win’s timezone. 

Tops frowned, “Win?” he said feeling a little worried. He didn’t want Win to be tired in the morning because he stayed up too late chatting with his...boyfriend? Were they boyfriends? They never really solidly established it.

Win raised his brows, “Mmmhmmm?” he responded as he draped his free hand over his head. He was sliding down the headboard just a bit. Tops could tell he was beginning to drift a bit.

“If you’re tired, why don’t you just go to sleep?” Tops queried.

Win shook his head and said, “No,” but he did lie fully on his back. He propped his head up in the pillows and pushed his growing hair back. How Tops missed playing with that pretty mane. His fingers itched to touch his hair again.

“Why not? If you’re tired you should go to sleep,” he said sternly, “If you stay up too long you’ll have dark circles under your eyes.”

Win laughed a little too hard, a sign that he was slipping. “That’s what makeup is for, my Tops Chef,” he said, “I’ll go to bed shortly. Just a little bit longer.”

Tops was confused, “Why are you holding out?” he asked him curiously.

Win rubbed his leaking eyes and gently replied with, “I’m trying to make sure I have good dreams tonight.”

“What do you mean by that?” Tops asked feeling even more confused. Win managed to pull himself back up into a half-sitting position. He gave Tops a tired smirk as he easily asked, “Don’t you know you are the last thing on my mind when I go to sleep?”

Tops felt his cheeks warm and he looked down at the keys of his laptop. Win continued, “Since we’re talking so late and I’m already practically asleep I’m hoping that seeing your face until I pass out will most likely make me have dreams about you.”

Tops let out a shy scoff, “You’re sleep deprived so you’re talking crazy,” he said finding the strength to look back at his digital Win. He instantly regretted it though, because Win was grinning like a fool back at him.

“It’s working,” Win told him. His euphorically delirious mind was already envisioning Tops smiling sweetly at him while he happily stirred something in a bowl, “Tops Chef.” Tops face was on FIRE at the use of his nickname again.

“Don’t you think about me before you go to bed?” Win asked hopefully. “No,” Tops quickly answered. Win clutched his chest, acting hurt, “Ouch,” he whined, “Now I feel dumb.”

“You aren’t my last thought before bed, but you are my first thought when I wake up,” Tops quickly said.

Win was a little more awake now, “What did you say? Say it again?” he requested through a flirty grin.

“Win,” Tops said in a warning tone. He felt like skin on his face was melting off from the sheer embarrassment.

“Come on Tops. I need to make sure I’m not hallucinating and that I’m not the only cheesy person in this relationship,” Win said staring directly at Tops. Tops remained silent as he looked away again.

AHA so it was a relationship! Tops had thought so.

“Topsss,” Win whined loudly, “Come on? Please? One more time? Into my good ear.” He held the phone speaker up to his ear, “Go on. I’m not even looking.”

Tops swallowed down his bashfulness and replaced it with courage. He took a deep breath and repeated himself, “I said I think about you first thing when I wake up.”

“I swear you’re the cutest person I’ve ever seen,” Win said before erupting into loud laughter. Tops covered his no doubt bright red face, “Winnnnnn,” he complained over the laughing.

Win did his best to sober up, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just very much in love,” he admitted.

Tops felt himself still. Ohhh they hadn’t said that word before. Tops couldn’t help but respond with, “I love you too,” before his brain told him to shut up. His heart felt like it would explode any minute.

He stifled a sigh of relief when he heard Win say, “Okay I really am about to pass out. Talk to you tomorrow?”

Tops nodded and slickly added in, “Sweet dreams.”

Win grinned and fired right back with, “Happy waking up.”

    It’s only six months. Tops knows it’s only six months. And in the grand scheme of things, six months is really no time at all when you think about it, not where they’re concerned. In Tops’ mind there’s no question that, against all odds, he and Win will come out the other side of this separation even closer than they’d been while Win was still here.

    But knowing something when he’s feeling reasonable doesn’t do Tops much good when the fact remains: Win isn’t here. He figures that it may have been easier if they hadn’t already been sharing an apartment, because at least then there would perhaps be more of a line between their lives. Instead, everything in Tops’ eyeline tends to be a reminder of the person he’s missing. He doesn’t like to hang around the living room because he’ll just think about Win rocking his baby brother, Thunder, to sleep. Puttering about the kitchen reminds Tops of all the meals and treats he’d prepared for Win, which inevitably leads him to fret over whether Win’s eaten something that day. Reading in his own room is just as lonely as anywhere else in the house because this is where he’d slept with Win, sleepovers common even before they were anything more than friends.

    He’s gotten into the habit of spending time in the room that had been Win’s, the floral wallpaper a sight that still brings a smile to Tops’ face, and will often sleep in there to avoid a bed he’d gotten used to sharing with his boyfriend. It’s hardly past 10 but Tops is already worn out because, to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t get quality rest without Win there beside him. Some nights are better than others, and the prior one had found Tops up four times at scattered hours. He always sleeps better on the nights he’s able to talk to Win first, so it’s a no-brainer for Tops to reach out now.

    The video-call is answered within four rings, Win’s smile filling the screen. “My Top Chef,” he says immediately, coated in fondness. Off-screen, someone asks who he’s got on the line and Win replies in English, with just as much adoration, “My boyfriend. I gotta take this.” Tops waits as Win disappears from the room he’d been in previously to duck into a hallway, where it’s quieter. “Tops,” he says again. “What’s up?”

    “Nothing. I don’t want to bother you, if you’re — ”

    Win makes a face, dismissing Tops’ words right away. “Tops, don’t even,” he says. His grin softens as he looks at Tops. “How are you? Tell me what’s been going on.”

    “We talked yesterday morning; what could happen between then and now?”

    “I like to hear about your day, even if it’s the usual,” Win insists. He adds, teasing, “I’m a little obsessed with you, in case you forgot since ‘yesterday.’”

    Tops knows he’s blushing but doesn’t care. “Nothing’s happened here,” he repeats. “What’d you eat today?”

    “Three bacon-burgers with fries, plus an entire shaker of salt for taste.”

    “Win.”

    “It’s barely 11 am!” Win points out. “We hit up a diner for pancakes and haven’t decided on lunch yet. Wait, you got my message yesterday, right? At lunch?”

    “The pizza,” Tops recalls. He’d saved the photo Win had sent of himself to his phone. Win had been smiling wide with the pizza he’d put together of Tops’ own recipe from the channel. “I can’t believe you actually made it.”

    “I told you I would! Steven and Cris said it was phenomenal, thanks very much, so you’d better hold on to your title of Top Chef if you don't want me swiping it.”

    “I’m shaking,” Tops says, his voice flat, and Win laughs at him.

    “Did you just call to ask if I ate?” he questions Tops.

    “I have to,” Tops says. “You know how you get; you sit down to write and fixate for hours without moving. There were times I’ve had to hide your guitar to get you to even sit for a meal, remember? I’m not taking any chances.”

    “What a considerate boyfriend I have,” Win coos, making Tops redden and shake his head. “What about you? It’s late for you now; what’d you eat?”

    “I wasn’t really hungry,” Tops says, which is the truth. He’d been rather tired all day because of not sleeping well before, but is aware more than most how important the food you put into your body is to a healthy life, so he’d basically forced himself to prepare dinner. All he’d rustled up for himself was an egg atop rice, pretty delicious and better than eating nothing, after all.

    Immediately, Tops can see the crease appear between Win’s eyebrows. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks. “You aren’t sick again, right?”

    “No,” Tops assures him. “All good. Just tired.”

    “Tops, go to sleep.”

    “Yeah, I just…” He shrugs. “I want to fall asleep with you. You know how it is.”

    Win’s eyes search Tops’ features through the screen. “Yeah. Look, I can grab my guitar right now and play something for you quick, help you fall asleep. How’s that sound?”

    A small smile blooms on Tops’ lips, he can’t help it. “I mean, if it’s really okay,” and Win is already halfway back to the small room he’d left behind.

    “Tops! I’d play for you in the middle of a — fuckin’ tsuname, if you asked me to,” he says, stepping once again into the hall. “Don’t sweat it, for real.” He settles onto the floor this time to keep a grip on the guitar, his phone propped before him on the tile.

    Because it’s their song he strums a bit of ‘Moment,’ humming softly the words he’d written with Tops at his side, and Tops pulls the blanket up close to his chin to watch him with soft eyes. Win looks up from his strings to glance at Tops with a grin that Tops is already missing, even while it’s in front of him.

    “Hey, you’re drifting on me,” Win’s voice nudges Tops’ eyes open, and he realises he’d been nodding off.

    “Sorry.”

    “The point of this was to help you sleep,” Win laughs quietly. “So just rest. Talk when you wake up? Breakfast chat?”

    “Dinner for you,” Tops points out.

    “Perfect, you can nag me about what I’m eating,” Win says, joking. “Go to sleep, Tops. Love you love you.”