𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 . strung out on sleep deprivation and double stuffed oreos , neglectful of watching any near by clock , and i̳g̳n̳o̳r̳i̳n̳g̳ the texts from partially concerned best friends . loud movies and even louder laughter as one 𝗴𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝘂𝗽𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗼𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲 . the twist of the gut as fingers dance over one another while 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘦𝘴 and burnt popcorn . those l̳i̳n̳g̳e̳r̳ ̳g̳l̳a̳n̳c̳e̳s̳ traded before the clearing of the throat or the proclamation of i gotta take a piss — words so loud that it's like the 𝗴𝗼𝗮𝗹 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗳𝘆 the guy walking his dog across the street . those thoughts that plague when han solo and princess leia 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 , the glances tentatively fluttering between the two breathing bodies in the room as they grin and stuff their faces with something other than each other's tongues . 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗲𝗸𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗼𝗺 𝗹𝗶𝗽𝘀 , shared fleece blankets , brushing hands , menial movie facts , touching knees , those 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 eyes .
and , to flash's luck , it 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙗𝙧𝙪𝙥𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙙 over a credits scene . with a noisy stretch and the craving for s̳o̳m̳e̳t̳h̳i̳n̳g̳ other than sugar . all flash can think about is how he likes the couch better with johnny beside him . untucking himself from under the blankets , he regards johnny's 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 to the kitchenette with a half attentive nod and graceless repositioning of the 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗹𝘆 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗰𝘀 . he follows johnny onward once he's readied himself , propping his elbows u̳p̳ ̳o̳n̳ ̳t̳h̳e̳ ̳c̳o̳u̳n̳t̳e̳r̳ with a smile .
he's rearranging decorative morsels of food before flash's eyes , and he 𝗰𝗮𝗻'𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗮𝘀𝗸 𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 what he'd missed . and what other talents johnny storm was keeping s̳o̳ ̳d̳e̳l̳i̳c̳a̳t̳e̳l̳y̳ tucked away . he chews on his bottom lip as he watches on , admiring the muscle memory skill of preparing a really late dinner . flash quietly chuckles to himself , thinking that about this time he would be 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘂𝗽 𝗮 𝗽𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗶 𝗽𝗶𝘇𝘇𝗮 in his oven that only works sometimes . and when he finds himself asking what time it is anyway , next that 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵 , he turns his attention to the stray lock of golden hair framing johnny's eye . does he know it's hanging there ? he tilts his head , 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗲𝗹𝗯𝗼𝘄𝘀 a bit further .
the silence between them is warm . warmer than the space b̳e̳t̳w̳e̳e̳n̳ ̳t̳h̳e̳m̳ ̳o̳n̳ ̳t̳h̳e̳ ̳c̳o̳u̳c̳h̳ . far warmer than those prudish glances exchanged as a 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗳𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 , like the two of them had to mutually agree not to experiment with 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘯 screen . flash wonders if maybe that's when he started really staring at johnny's eyes . if maybe that's the moment he noticed that they 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗿 , that his cheekbones really were as perfect as the tabloids say . and the m̳o̳m̳e̳n̳t̳ ̳h̳e̳ ̳r̳e̳a̳l̳i̳z̳e̳d̳ that the tank top he wore fit him better than it should anyone . yeah , that was a cold recognition . unlike the warm smile on johnny's face as he professionally 𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗰𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘀 𝗮 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗯𝗹𝗲 cutting board .
and flash p̳r̳a̳y̳e̳d̳ ̳h̳i̳s̳ ̳o̳w̳n̳ ̳p̳r̳e̳s̳e̳n̳c̳e̳ was adored for its simple being , cherishing johnny storm in his more 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 . he hopes he's warm 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 one stray strand of goldilocks hair . and when he is finally addressed , there is a spoon offered to him , a smell so delightful filling him that 𝙞𝙩 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 . he leans over the counter to brace , lips parting to take the s̳p̳o̳o̳n̳ ̳i̳n̳t̳o̳ ̳h̳i̳s̳ ̳m̳o̳u̳t̳h̳ . his tastebuds light up as he meets johnny's sleepy eyes .
🙶 dude ... how's it - 🙷 he pauses , 𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙩 , ensuring he has swallowed it all down . 🙶 is there anything you're not good at ? 🙷 a question as g̳e̳n̳u̳i̳n̳e̳ as worker bees were in their duty . 🙶 i mean , seriously ! don't be embarrassed , i 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 . 🙷 he grins as he uses a hand to ask for another honorary taste test . 𝘂𝗽𝗼𝗻 𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 , 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗲 only grows , shooting johnny a grandiose thumbs up as he leans back . 🙶 this professional microwave dinner chef approves , w̳h̳a̳t̳e̳v̳e̳r̳ that means ! 🙷
flash n̳e̳a̳r̳l̳y̳ ̳f̳o̳r̳g̳e̳t̳s̳ how his chest feels as he grins across the counter at johnny . even despite , he realizes that he longs to be back over on the couch , eyes ignoring the movie he has seen a 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗻 he's found he can't see enough . he's almost grateful for the break , fearing what stupid could have looked like 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 onto return of the jedi without so much as another blink at one another . but the part of him that is disgustingly ungrateful , he feels . and he 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘆 . it pulls him to the ground and rattles only a few words out of him before he wakes up back in the seat he comes to find he never left . i̳t̳'̳s̳ ̳a̳ ̳s̳i̳c̳k̳ ̳c̳y̳c̳l̳i̳c̳a̳l̳ ̳o̳r̳d̳i̳n̳a̳n̳c̳e̳ , the state of tonight . but , he isn't sure he would trade it for anything worse . 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙫𝙖𝙡 !