Chapter Text
Waking up in a foreign bed in a random apartment isn’t exactly how Baptiste envisioned the morning after Midtown Pride, but god was he glad he was here. It was better than a ditch or a dirty subway station, he guessed. Still, he’d expected himself to wake back in his own bed. How much had he had to drink last night?
As sleep slowly swept away, the man’s eyes reluctantly opened and he started to put the pieces together about where he was and what was going on. For one, he was definitely not in his bed. His bed was… not uncomfortable, but a little stiff beneath him – this one however was squishy and soft. It felt like a cloud beneath him, beckoning him to close his eyes and sleep a little longer. Plus, his sheets were a bit more bobbled, worn and tough. If someone told him the material surrounding him currently was the most made with the most expensive 800 thread-count Egyptian cotton, he’d believe it. Plus, there was one other tell – a pretty big one. Well, in this case, small.
The man in his arms.
The… what?
Baptiste looked down, his eyes crusty and his head beating louder than the music was last night (what had they been playing? It was loud, whatever it was). In his arms, nestled there like it was the comfiest place to ever have existed, was a smaller man. Dark skin rested against Baptiste’s right arm and long, dreads, interwoven with rainbow colours, were pressed against his chest. The man’s features were peaceful, his eyes softly closed, lips slightly parted and the rainbow face paint he must’ve had on last night was smudged to be indecipherable on his face. Even in his current state, the stranger was beautiful. Even as Baptiste realised the man was drooling on him, it didn’t change the medic’s mind. This boy was cute. There was something about the serenity and the peacefulness of the moment too, coupled with the way that the man was literally cuddling Baptiste’s whole arm.
A moment of guilt passed through the Haitian. He lifted the covers and that confirmed what he was thinking – they were both stark naked. The mystery man had a beautiful body, all curves and soft skin. He was a lot smaller than Baptiste too, probably quite short. Baptiste felt dreadful about the fact that he was probably in this dude’s apartment and he didn’t even know his name. Remorse added to the guilt – the man was gorgeous. Baptiste wished he could remember the night together and for it to be more than just… wait, what had they done? By looks of them both, they’d likely been very drunk when they tumbled back here (wherever here was) then slept together, maybe. Probably? Baptiste wasn’t gonna check.
Air exhaled out of his nose. Baptiste had sworn to himself that he was going to stop doing this. That he was finally gonna mature and settle down with someone – that his days of waking up in strangers’ beds was a thing of the past. But here he was. Didn’t even know his name. Casting another brief glance down, the man stirred, cuddling Baptiste’s arm closer. The regret flourished in to want.
That was how Baptiste knew he had to go.
As quietly as he could, he shuffled himself up a little bit, ignoring the way his head continued to feel like a drum and bass beat and began to scoot his arm away from the man who was holding it hostage. As he got closer to freedom, the small man made a sound akin to a kittens mewl that almost killed Baptiste before letting the appendage go. Now that all his limbs were his again, even if his arm was kinda numb, Baptiste snuck out of the sheets and nearly collapsed on the floor in the process. The hangover was positively battering him and the last thing he wanted to do was disturb it. Pushing through it, he snuck to the end of the bed, retrieving his lost items. He pulled his shorts on, shoes, button-down shirt and then pocketed his phone. Luckily his keys were still in his pocket and so was his light-feeling wallet. Hygiene and his usual morning routine would have to wait until he got back to his place – hopefully he didn’t smell too bad, though considering how thorough he usually was, it made his nose wrinkle.
Finally, just to break his own heart a little bit more, as Baptiste’s hand was on the doorknob, he looked back at the man in bed just behind him. With the arm now missing, the stranger was instead curled up in a shrimp shape, cuddling into himself. It was only then that Baptiste realised how massive the bed truly was – he glanced to the numerous decorative pillows strewn on the floor too and realised they must fill it usually. Seeing such a small body in the middle of such a massive bed really made Baptiste’s heart ache. Was the mystery man alone, like him? Going to bed on his own every night, in this massive bed, made for two?
Now he was just projecting.
He grabbed the doorknob and headed out the bedroom, glad that the door didn’t squeak, only to be confronted with a long hallway. Embarrassingly, clothing items trailed to the bedroom door, disrupting the clean, cream walls and marbled floors, and Baptiste looked away quickly from the pair of boxers with a frog handprint on the ass cheek. Extravagant. Numerous doors lead off to different rooms however one had a high-tech intercom system next to it – must be the exit. The penny dropped rapidly: whoever he’d railed last night was rich. To live in the city (he hoped he was still in the city…) in an apartment this big meant money. Real estate was crazy here, he’d discovered. The closet in this fancy apartment was probably bigger than Baptiste’s whole living space. Not dwelling on his jealousy, or his broken heart, Baptiste rushed to the front door, grabbed the handle, and left.