Elliot had fallen asleep before the end credits rolled, his head resting against the arm of the couch, his legs curled up beneath him. His steady breathing filled the otherwise quiet room, the flicker of the TV screen casting soft shadows over his relaxed features. Nate sighed, standing over him for a moment, debating whether to wake him. But something about the peaceful expression on Elliot's face stopped him. He looked so... serene. Vulnerable, even. The usual bundle of energy was finally still, and it caught Nate off guard just how endearing that was.

Grabbing the throw blanket from the back of the couch, Nate draped it over Elliot carefully, tucking the edges around him so he wouldn't get cold. The corners of his mouth twitched into a faint smile as Elliot stirred slightly, his face nuzzling into the fabric without waking. Nate turned off the TV, collecting their plates and glasses from the coffee table. As he rinsed them in the sink, his thoughts drifted back to the evening. He remembered the way Elliot's face lit up during the movie—not just when he laughed at the cheesy lines, but the way his eyes softened during the quieter moments. There was an openness to him, a genuine enjoyment that Nate hadn't realized how much he appreciated until now. It was rare for Nate to feel comfortable around someone so effortlessly. Elliot had this way of drawing people in, of making even the smallest moments feel significant. 

 After finishing up in the kitchen, Nate shut off the lights and got ready for bed. But as he lay there in the dark, he couldn't help but replay the night in his mind—Elliot's laugh, his dramatic commentary on the movie, and the quiet way he'd eventually drifted off. Nate sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He wasn't sure what was happening between them, but something about Elliot had a way of creeping under his skin. And the strangest part? He wasn't entirely sure he minded.

As Nate lay in the quiet darkness of his room, his thoughts drifting to Elliot's sleeping form on the couch, an unwelcome pang hit his chest. It was familiar, a sharp reminder of why he'd built those walls around his heart in the first place.

There had been someone, once—a lifetime ago, or so it felt. Someone who had drawn him in with promises of forever, someone he'd given his all to without hesitation. Nate had let himself believe in it, let himself feel safe in that love. But it hadn't lasted. The betrayal still echoed in his mind, a jagged memory he'd tried to bury. He remembered the look in Simons eyes the day everything shattered, the casual way he'd discarded Nate like he was nothing. It wasn't just the heartbreak that hurt; it was the realization that Nate had handed over pieces of himself to someone who never truly cared. Since then, he'd made a rule—a promise to himself. Never again. He wouldn't let anyone close enough to have that kind of power over him.

But now, with Elliot, things felt different. The blond's bright smiles and endless energy had a way of slipping through the cracks Nate had tried so hard to seal. He was annoying and stubborn, sure, but he was also kind, open, and unapologetically himself in a way that Nate couldn't ignore.

And that scared him.

Because no matter how much Nate tried to convince himself otherwise, he could feel it—the way his defenses softened whenever Elliot was around, the way his chest tightened at the thought of Elliot smiling like that for someone else. He closed his eyes, forcing a deep breath. He couldn't let this happen. Not again. Nate knew what falling in love could do, and he wasn't sure he'd survive another heartbreak. Still, as he drifted toward sleep, a single thought lingered: maybe this time, it could be different. But that faint hope was one he quickly shoved aside. It was safer not to hope at all.

The next morning, Nate stirred awake to the sound of clattering pans and the unmistakable aroma of bacon wafting through the apartment. He groaned, burying his face into his pillow, willing the smell and noise to go away. But as his mind cleared, a realization dawned on him.

Elliot.

That annoying, relentless little shit was back at it again, hammering away at the walls Nate had spent years trying to build and reinforce. Dragging himself out of bed, Nate shuffled toward the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The scene that greeted him made him pause in the doorway. Elliot was at the stove, completely in his element. Headphones hugged his ears, and he was moving to a rhythm only he could hear. It wasn't just subtle swaying, either—he was dancing, a graceful mix of spins and playful hip movements as he flipped something in the frying pan. The blond was utterly oblivious to Nate's presence, singing quietly under his breath as he worked.

Nate leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and watching the show unfold. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips despite himself. It was hard not to be impressed by how effortlessly Elliot moved, even when doing something as mundane as cooking breakfast.

Eventually, Nate cleared his throat loudly, startling Elliot mid-spin. The blond yelped, nearly dropping the spatula in his hand as he whipped around to face Nate. He pulled off the headphones, his cheeks flushing a light pink. "Oh my god, how long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," Nate said, his voice raspy from sleep, though the amusement was clear in his eyes.

Elliot huffed, glaring at him half-heartedly as he turned back to the stove. "You could've said something instead of lurking like a creep."

"And miss the show?" Nate quipped, stepping further into the kitchen. "Not a chance, cupcake."

Elliot rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress the small smile creeping onto his face. "Well, since you're here, you might as well grab a plate. I made enough for two."

Nate glanced at the counter, where plates of scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and what looked like homemade pancakes were neatly set up. It was far more effort than he ever put into breakfast, and the thought made his chest tighten in an unfamiliar way.

"You didn't have to do all this," Nate muttered, grabbing a plate nonetheless.

"Of course I did," Elliot said cheerfully, nudging Nate lightly with his elbow as he joined him at the counter. "It's the least I could do after you let me crash here last night. Plus, I like cooking for people."

Nate watched as Elliot piled food onto his own plate, still humming faintly to the beat of whatever song was in his head. His walls may have been cracking, but at that moment, Nate couldn't find it in himself to care. "Thanks," he said quietly, earning a warm, dimpled smile from Elliot in return.

"Anytime," Elliot replied, his voice soft but genuine.

As they sat down to eat, Nate couldn't help but let his thoughts wander, his gaze flickering toward Elliot as the blond dug into his plate with unrestrained enthusiasm. Why here? Why him? The questions gnawed at Nate as he speared a piece of bacon, his appetite suddenly competing with his overactive thoughts. Elliot could've stayed at any number of places—friends, parents, that green haired girl, or even that Aaron guy he couldn't quite stop thinking about. So why had he chosen to crash here? Was it just convenience? Or was there something else, something Nate was too afraid to acknowledge?

Elliot, oblivious to the turmoil brewing in Nate's head, leaned back in his chair and stretched, a contented smile on his face. "This turned out pretty good, huh?" he said, gesturing to the spread of food between them. "Not bad for a last-minute breakfast."

Nate grunted in agreement, but his mind was elsewhere. Did Elliot feel it too?—it couldn't be one-sided. Could it? "So," Nate said finally, his voice coming out more abrupt than he intended. "You've got other places you could've stayed last night. Why here?"

Elliot blinked, caught off guard by the question. He set his fork down, tilting his head slightly as if considering his answer. "I dunno," he said, shrugging. "It just... felt right, I guess."

Nate raised an eyebrow, not letting him off the hook that easily. "Felt right?"

Elliot chuckled nervously. "You're not gonna make this easy, huh? Fine. I like being around you, okay? You're... comfortable." His cheeks flushed slightly, and he quickly looked down at his plate, poking at the remnants of his scrambled eggs. "Don't let it go to your head, though. You're still grumpy half the time."

Nate stared at him, the words sinking in. Comfortable. That word lingered, making his chest ache in a way he couldn't quite explain. He wanted to push for more, to dig deeper, but the vulnerability in Elliot's voice stopped him. Instead, Nate smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Grumpy, huh? Guess I'll have to work on that."

Elliot laughed, the sound light and easy, and for a moment, the tension in Nate's chest eased. Maybe he didn't have all the answers yet, but for now, he could live with the uncertainty. Because if Elliot was as genuin as he thought he was, then maybe—just maybe—letting those walls come down might not be such a terrible idea after all.