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Some Nights

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Some nights, it was cold and calm. Perhaps cold wasn't the best word for it, but calm most certainly was. The strenuous work week over, they would all pile onto the couch. There would be overlap, of course, with six full grown men all crammed onto one piece of furniture. Jack and Ryan would sit on either end of their admittedly too small sofa, arms draped across the top of it and fingers brushing together. Michael would huff and try to get in the middle before anyone else (though no one else would really try- it was Michael's spot, after all). Gavin would flail onto Michael and Jack's laps, arms waving wildly but never with enough force to injure one of the others. Ray would quietly take his place on Ryan's lap and would laugh as Gavin would attempt to climb into his lap as well. Geoff would step in at the last moment, call the Brit an idiot, then squeeze onto the armrest next to Jack, knowing full well he would probably end up sprawled across everyone as the night went on.


This pile would reconvene in the bedroom hours later. Pale moonlight would stream through the gauzy curtains as the six became little more than a lump atop the bedcovers. Any trace of energy would be gone, the calm of the evening soaked so deeply into each and every one of them that it would be a crime to do anything more than press a few soft kisses to foreheads and lips before slipping into a heavy slumber. No one really had a set spot in the pile; it was more a mess of limbs curled together to keep any trace of a chill out. It was a safe and warm and so full of love that one one could ever doubt the unspoken forever of it all.




Other nights, it was hot and wild. The nights when after-work bev invites were turned down in favor of heading home early, as the tension in the cramped office had been running high all day. Ray would have been licking his lips far too many times, and Geoff's hands would have lingered in each of the other men's hair for longer than a simple show of affection would require. Gavin would have been the first to kiss someone- with someone else firmly reminding him they were not trying sex in the office again.


Five on the dot they would hurry home with few words shared between them. As soon as the front door was locked, clothing would become very much a thing of the past. If they all managed into the bedroom, it was a blessing. All of them making it onto the bed was a goddamn miracle. Hands and lips and everything else was everything, everything, and the fire would rage on. A symphony of moans and a litany of curses would fill the room. The air sticky and slowly, no, quickly burning hotter and hotter. The room would practically boil and the tension would peak and it would be hot enough for hell but feel too much like Heaven to be anything else.


Sleep would come easily. Identical to the tame cuddles from before, everyone would curl up together. The warmth of the night would stay contained within their little group. Sleep would again come with ease, vestiges of increased affection shown with the light presses of lips and soft embraces.


No matter hot or cold, every night was special between the six of them. The cuddles, the sex, everything in between. Because they were together, and that's really all that matters.