The room was quiet. Grey.

Rain still whispered against the bedroom window, softer than yesterday, as though the storm had grown tired sometime during the night.

Avinash opened his eyes slowly. For several disoriented seconds, he simply stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, his mind refusing to catch up with reality.

Then, warmth registered. A steady, heavy weight rested across his waist. His breath caught.

Right. Last night.

Memory returned in fragments.

Beer bottles sweating on the coffee table. Conversations that had wandered into territories neither of them had expected. A hug. A hand warm against his face.

A kiss.

And then another.

He remembered smiling against warm lips. He remembered Nicholas asking, more than once, if he was sure.

Somewhere after that, time had dissolved into whispered conversations, wandering hands, and long silences neither of them wanted to end. They'd stopped pretending there was anywhere else they'd rather be.

Very, very carefully, Avi lowered his gaze. Nicholas was still asleep. Or, at least, appeared to be.

Morning light slipped through the gap in the curtains, laying pale silver across the older man's bare shoulders. Avi stared harder at the ceiling.

"...Well."

He wanted to move. But moving would mean acknowledging...everything.

Eventually, curiosity betrayed him. Very slowly, he turned his head.

Nicholas looked unfairly put together for someone asleep. His beard had softened overnight, no longer carrying the sharp, intimidating precision he kept during the day. Dark hair had escaped in several stubborn directions, flattened on one side from the pillow. Without the perpetual frown, he looked younger. Less like the man who interrogated suspects for a living.

The blanket had slipped low enough to expose one broad shoulder and most of his chest. Years of training had left quiet evidence everywhere-old scars, a pale line disappearing beneath his collarbone, another crossing his ribs. The neat beard he always kept trimmed had grown just enough over the past week to soften the hard line of his jaw.

Avi looked away, the ceiling suddenly becoming incredibly fascinating again. He should move. He didn't.

A minute passed. Maybe two.

Then, Nicholas shifted. Barely. His breathing changed first-becoming slower, lighter.

Awake.

Panic made the decision before Avi's brain could. He closed his eyes, pretending to still be asleep. Because what exactly was he supposed to do? Say good morning? Apologize? Pretend nothing had happened? His heart had already started beating far too loudly.

The mattress dipped. Nicholas was sitting up carefully, trying not to wake him. Avi concentrated very hard on keeping his breathing even, counting the seconds. He heard the quiet rustle of sheets and the soft scrape of bare feet finding the wooden floor.

Then... fingers. Warm fingertips brushed a stray strand of hair away from Avi's forehead with impossible gentleness. The touch lingered for barely a heartbeat, then it disappeared.

Footsteps. The bedroom door opened, then clicked shut.

Silence.

Only then did Avi open his eyes again. He stared at the closed door.

"...Shit."

+++

Avi eventually made up his mind to face reality. By the time he emerged from the hallway several minutes later wearing yesterday's oversized sweater, his hair still an ungovernable, wild mess from sleep, the apartment was smelling like coffee. Freshly ground beans, warm toasted bread, and the crisp scent of rain drifting through the cracked balcony door.

Nicholas stood at the kitchen counter with his back to him, already dressed in a dark T-shirt and sweatpants, pouring coffee into two familiar mugs.

"Morning." Without turning, he spoke.

Avi stopped halfway into the kitchen, clutching his sleeves. "...Morning." His voice came out rougher and quieter than he'd intended.

Nicholas slid one of the mugs across the counter. Avi stepped forward and accepted it, wrapping both hands around the ceramic warmth. "...Thanks."

Silence settled between them. It wasn't uncomfortable-just entirely new. Both seemed to be waiting for the other to decide what last night meant. Neither did.

Nicholas took a sip of his own coffee. "So..."

"So?"

"...Hungover?"

"A little," Avi admitted. "You?"

"I've been worse."

Avi nodded, taking a sip from his mug.

The rain tapped patiently against the balcony mesh.

Nicholas crossed the small distance between them, putting his mug down on the counter. He stepped directly into Avi's space.

"...Come here."

Avi frowned.

"...I'm already here."

"I know."

"...Then?"

Nicholas looked at him for a second.

"...I don't know."

"...You're weird."

"So I've been told."

A beat.

"...Can I..."

Nicholas gestured vaguely between them, clearly realizing halfway through that he had absolutely no script for this either.

"...What?"

"...This."

He leaned forward and placed a small kiss against Avi's forehead.

Barely a second.

Then stepped back.

Avi.exe stopped responding.

He didn't, so much as, dare to move. His fingers tightened imperceptibly around his mug, his eyes locked onto Nicholas's.

Nicholas suddenly looked a little uncertain.

"...Too much?"

"...No."

"...Too little?"

"...I don't know."

Nicholas stared.

Avi stood there like a Windows update trying to install.

"...Are you thinking," Nicholas asked carefully, "or did I break you?"

Avi blinked.

"...Working on it."

Nicholas gave it a moment. Held his gaze as Avi bit gently at the inside of his lower lip.

"Stay here."

He turned, set his coffee mug down on the counter, and walked quietly back down the hallway.

Nicholas watched him disappear around the corner. He stood alone in the kitchen for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as the silence of the apartment settled around him again.

"Was that awkward?" he muttered to himself.

+++

Avi reached his bedroom. He closed the door, walked directly to the bottom drawer of his desk, and pulled it open.

The notebook lay exactly where he'd left it. Its worn leather cover was faded around the edges, and the elastic band had long ago stretched loose. He rested his fingertips on it.

For a long time, he simply stared.

His last conversation with Shane. His last promise. His last responsibility.

He picked it up, holding it against his chest for one quiet breath, before walking back toward the kitchen.

Nicholas looked up as Avi returned. The worn notebook in his hands immediately caught his attention.

He frowned. "...What's this?"

Avi didn't answer straight away. He turned the notebook in his hands, thumb tracing the softened edge of its worn cover.

"...Remember what you told me?"

Nicholas frowned slightly. "...About?"

"'Prey isn't a constant.'"

Silence settled between them.

Nicholas watched as Avi's fingers tighten around the notebook. Then, quietly, he reached towards Nichola's hand, turned his palm upward and carefully placed the notebook into it. It lingered there for a second longer as though making sure Nicholas wouldn't let it fall.

"This..." His thumb traced against the worn cover. "...is all I have left of him."

Nicholas lifted his eyes. 

Avi met his gaze without wavering.

"Use it."

A beat.

"...Wisely."