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#peak television for when you’re feeling sad and drained of energy
writerfae · 1 month
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Not me getting kids ads on YouTube now cause all I watch on there lately are episodes of “Tom und das Erdbeermarmelade-Brot mit Honig” like some sad clown which I am
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artificialqueens · 7 years
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When the sun comes up I'll be looking at you (Sashea) - Star
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Hi! So I wrote this as an almost self indulgent type of thing, because honestly I just really needed more sashea fluff in my life, I hope you guys like it!:)
Shea flicked on the fairy lights in the living room.
Sparkle.
The living room he would be sharing with Sasha.
“Perfect”. Shea finalised, Sasha turning to glance at him from where he was occupied with rearranging the number of throw pillows on their second hand couch.
“You think?”. Sasha breathed, throwing himself onto the far end of the couch, leaving room for Shea to join him.
Beneath the weight of the both of them, the couch creaked, though neither blinked in response. Outside, the sun had begun setting. A faint glow encompassing the room through their thin curtains, only being emphasised by the warm toned fairy lights decorating the wall opposite them.
“Yeah”. Explained Shea, particles of dust floating around his head amongst beams of sunlight.
“Roommates”. The television faded in and out of both of their ears, faint voices infiltrating their minds.
“It’s crazy”. Shea reiterated.
Sasha remained silent.
His eyes travelled around the room. First to Shea, whose head was reclined on the couch back behind him and then to the empty pile of boxes and destroyed sheets of bubble wrap that sat in the far corner of the room. Dark oak flooring and magnolia walls gave the room a simultaneously homely yet distant vibe. Unfamiliarity.
Crazy, he repeated in a low whisper.
Maybe we could paint the walls, Sasha mused internally, not becoming any more at ease with the atmosphere that the bland walls produced the longer and more intently he looked at them.
“You know-”. The Russian man looked up at the shaky sound of Shea’s voice.
“-when I first met you all of those years ago, more drunk than I think I’ve ever seen anybody at that club in Brooklyn, I never thought we’d end up where we are now”.
“Roommates”. Repetition.
Shea’s arm outstretched, poking his friend jokingly on his pale shoulder.
“You’re like, my favourite person”. Shea flung his legs across Sasha’s, smiling warmly.
“My best friend”. He clarified.
“You too”. Responded Sasha vaguely, attention still focused on his new surroundings.
“Sorry, it’s just-”. Sasha halted his words, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.
“Crazy”. Shea understood. Their friendship and their proximity. Their journey to this point and the future yet to unfold. He understood.
“Exactly that”. Sasha’s lips upturned in a grateful smile.
“I think I’ll miss my little shoebox apartment”. Exhaled Sasha minutes later, when the molecular specs of dust were no longer visible in the sun peaking through their double glazed windows and the only light left in the room came from the twinkling fairy lights and the television that they had both forgotten about.
A chuckle left Shea’s lips.
“I never thought I’d say it, but I think I’ll miss mine too”. The younger of the two admitted.
Reminiscing.
“We had some god damn wild times in those places”. Sasha’s voice was light and airy, a glimmer in his eyes.
“Bitch, they were the best”. A grin took over Shea’s face, eyes crinkling in joy.
“They were”. Agreed Sasha, body slouching into the questionably padded couch.
“Remember when-”. Laughed Shea, voice crackling. “-Remember when me, you, Trixie, Katya, Alaska and the other girls all got so fucked up at your place that we spent $150 on pizza?”.
The laugh that left Sasha circulated the room, engulfed Shea’s attention span and replaced the sunlight that had completely diminished.
“Justin, if you were a desert, you’d be a baked Alaska”. Mocked the elder man, intimidating Trixie’s god awful pun to the best of his abilities.
“The best quote of all time. Period”. Shea ran his fingers through his own hair, taming the unruly strands that had been dishevelled entirely throughout the course of the day.
“One. Hundred. Percent”. Sasha drawled, the shelves of records and vinyls across from him reminding him of how many they’d worn out over the years.
“What about- oh!”. Chirped Shea, turning his body fully to face Sasha.
Smiles.
Glee and elation, fluidity and the euphoric feeling of yes.
“Halloween”. Unity. Both men mumbled together, giggling as they recalled the messiest, clumsiest night that they’d survived.
“It was definitely eventful”. Sasha rolled his eyes fondly, thumbs twiddling at the hem of his shirt.
“Eventful is an understatement, girl. I swear my hangover lasted over a week”. Shea grimaced, his eyebrows furrowing and forehead creasing. The smell of tequila still made him feel uneasy.
“That’s what happens when you think you can out-drink me”. Gloated Sasha, one hand rising to push his glasses back into place, the thick frames sliding irritatingly down the bridge of his nose.
A yawn; exhaustion. Shea fluttered his eyelashes, ridding the glaze from his eyes.
“You tired?”. Sasha leaned over to rub soothing circles in to Shea’s tense shoulder.
“I feel like I could sleep for a hundred years”. Shea’s words were elongated and lacklustre, lack of energy prevalent in his speech.
“Calm down, sleeping beauty”. Sasha teased. mischievous.
Shea snorted inelegantly, a chuckle following.
“I’m gonna head to bed soon”. Instigated Shea, confirmation of his exhaustion.
Sasha merely nodded his head slowly in acknowledgment, thoughts swirling and realisations whirring around his universe. The television programme that had been playing in the background had ended, a commercial about something proceeding to take over the screen. Beneath him his legs had begun cramping, leading him to manoeuvre his body into a more ergonomic position.
“You should too”. Shea grumbled, stretching his aching arms above his head.
Sasha’s eyes focused on Shea. His rich skin more luxurious than the dark of the night, his eyes a purer chocolate than his favourite confectionary.
“I don’t know, I might stay up and catch up on some shows for a while longer”. The yawn that left Sasha betrayed his words.
“Alright-”. Shea smiled, kneeling on the couch next to Sasha and reaching his arms out in order to bring him into a familiar embrace.
“-but please don’t overtire yourself”. Arms encircled Sasha, hands squeezing tightly at shoulders and lips pressing an overly friendly kiss to the apple of his smile risen cheek.
“I know, don’t worry about me. Sleep, Shea”. Sasha reciprocated Shea’s caring clutch, pulling back and ushering the tired man away when he was positive the younger man would fall asleep on the spot if he didn’t reach his bed soon.
Shea smiled faintly.
His eyes passed over the room around him before he slipped out of the living room door and down the main corridor to his bedroom.
Fairy lights glimmered and shadows travelled far and wide, the photo collage of himself, Sasha and their friends hung proudly on the tall bookshelf and the faux fur carpet at his feet felt soft and supple.
He sighed. Yes.
“G'night, Sash”. Called Shea over his shoulder, catching Sasha sprawl out freely on the couch in his peripheral vision.
“See you in the morning darling”. Sasha let out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding, eyes refusing to focus properly on the television in front of him and instead training themselves on a nondescript corner of the ceiling above him.
New surroundings; where everything was so familiar yet so unfamiliar at the same time. Where the company, his best friend was the same yet the walls that surrounded him were different. His old apartment, he recalled from the previous years, had characteristic cracks along the ceiling and the grey walls, whereas his new one didn’t. Dark flooring compared to light. High rise windows instead of barely noticeable rectangular ones doted around the narrow walls.
A good change, Sasha observed.
He switched the fairy lights off.
I’ll sleep soon, he swore.
*****
Sasha hadn’t slept in almost forty eight hours.
Slumping exhaustedly onto his and Shea’s couch that following night felt like an extreme case of deja vu, with the way his own head reclined behind him and how Shea flung his legs carelessly across his own - groaning in satisfaction when the usually bald queen all but yanked his uncomfortable heels off of him.
“Thanks”. Shea grumbled into the darkness of the room.
A clock on the wall read three in the early hours of the morning and a singular lamp lit up the room.
The fairy lights remained switched off, the pair having neglected to turn them on when they arrived back at their apartment after an enthralling yet draining gig.
Sasha slid his wig off effortlessly, eyelashes following shortly after.
“That crowd tonight was insane”. Commentary. The shadows in the room manipulating themselves across the expanses of Shea and Sasha’s fading makeup lathered faces.
“It was a god damn blast”. Countered Shea, standing from the couch and removing the restricting bodysuit from his being.
“Mhm”. Agreement from Sasha, who huffed when Shea sat back down on the couch, elongating his legs back over his own.
Shea remained clothed in only tights and a mismatched pink, chunky necklace. The other man had half of his nightgown fantasy still draped over his waist and a garish silver choker around his neck.
The sight was, admittedly, ridiculous.
“I need to get this face off”. Proclaimed Sasha, his signature dark eyebrow transferring onto the skin of his hand as he touched his forehead.
“You need to sleep, too”. Shea’s words were trod upon tentatively, cautious of the elders response.
“What-”. Sasha’s protests and questions, objections and inquisitive eyes were always going to prove futile.
Shea had realised. It was obvious.
“Come on, Sash, don’t try and-”. Sasha’s gaze travelled downwards, frown prevalent upon his face and lips trembling in both sadness and confusion.
“It’s just, you know how I get with-”.
“New surroundings”. Shea’s tone was soft, almost too calm and yet, understanding.
When Sasha had stayed at Shea’s apartment for the first time shortly after they’d met in the dingy Brooklyn club, he didn’t sleep.
Shea never mentioned it.
A week later he stayed again, where he managed to drift off into a peaceful slumber for a little over half an hour on his friends couch.
He remained exhausted throughout the duration of the next day, though it was progress.
By the third time, it had started to become routine; to spend the night after a gig at their local bar at Shea’s and order a pizza, or five, and pass out after one too many vodka sodas.
“I get it”. Soothing, tender words from Shea.
“I know-”. Sasha sighed. “-I’m grateful that you understand. I really am, y'know? But it’s just one of those things that I need to work on”. He brushed it off, eyes threatening to close against his will even though he knew they wouldn’t.
“Ok-”. Shea relented. Things took time. Everything took time. Always.
“-Please though, if you need me for anything at all, come to my room and wake me up, or whatever, alright girl?”.
Shea’s hand touched delicately at the bald queens shoulder, his long fake nails that he had yet to take off digging in to the soft skin unintentionally.
“You’re great-”. Breathed Sasha, exhaling. “-thank you, sweetie”.
Terms of endearment. Sasha used them often. Used them when he wanted to and when he didn’t need to yet, they never failed to make Shea smile, irregardless of everything.
Grinning.
“Get to your room and fucking sleep, bitch”. Shea called over his shoulder, exiting the room.
Deja vu. Sasha lifted himself off of the couch begrudgingly, switching the singular lamp that lit up the familiarising room off on his way to the door.
Bed.
sleep.
*****
Ceilings were uninteresting, Sasha concluded, having been staring up into the expanse of his own for the past - however long he had been wrapped up in his bundle of red blankets and midnight black pillows for.
White noise filled the room. The sound of the hustle and continuous bustle of the New York traffic outside accompanied the systematic tick of the alarm clock on his bedside table.
It was four o'clock. Possibly five. It may have been six, but Sasha refused to glance at aforementioned clock in fear of fully realising that yes; this is an issue.
He blinked once, almost robotically.
The door to his room remained open, the hallway light illuminating his room enough to be able to make his way from his bed and out of his room without tripping over any scattered objects or miscellaneous empty boxes along the way.
Plush carpet. A noticeable contrast between the warmth under his fluffy sock clad feet in his room and the wooden floor of the long corridor.
Cold.
His feet carried him down the hallway. Past the bathroom and the spare room that had effectively become a convenient walk-in-drag-closet, and to the door of Shea’s room.
The door remained half ajar. Sasha already knew that Shea never closed his bedroom door properly, with the exceptions of when he stayed in hotels and his parents house back home in Chicago. Privacy was a relative essential.
It wasn’t a question. Not particularly. Shea’s words rang loudly in his mind and echoed around his subconscious with an air of affirmation and generosity. “-Please though, if you need me for anything at all, come to my room and wake me up, or whatever, alright girl?”. Warm.
In the instant that he slipped through the gap in Shea’s door, and his feet met the cushiony carpet that somehow felt softer than the one in his own room - even though they were undeniably identical - he felt a wave of security wash over his being.
Shea was sound asleep. His body was curled up on its side, facing Sasha who still stood in the doorway, with one of his arms hanging lethargically off of the edge of the bed. Relaxed. Peaceful. Angelic. Words that sprung to the Russian mans mind whilst stepping forward, closer to the double bed in the centre of the room.
Shea’s bed sheets, unlike his own, were white and crisp - something about minimalism being the future.
“Shea”. It was whispered, barely audible.
“Shea”. Sasha perched tentatively on the bottom of the bed.
“Shea”. A little louder, breaking out of the low voice.
One slightly irritate grumble came from Shea, whose eyes flickered open just as slowly as Sasha’s mind seemed to be moving and functioning.
“Shea”. Sasha persevered, tugging at the corner of the duvet that the other man insistently pulled closer to his body.
“I’m awake”. Mumbled Shea, the dim light of his bedside lamp proving more than his sensitive eyes could handle.
Sasha’s face screamed nervous. Screamed worry over what Shea would have to say about being woken at such an ungodly hour - even though he knew Shea wouldn’t ever intentionally disregard him.
“Sorry, I just-”. Sasha’s blue eyes locked with Shea’s own brown ones. The whole ordeal seeming far more poetic than it was, with Sasha clothed in a ridiculous plaid t-shirt and grey pants compared to Shea who wore only a pair of black shorts.
“Don’t worry, are you alright?”. Shea extended his arm out towards Sasha, pulling the other side of his duvet back with the other and signalling for the other man to join him.
A shrug.
Crawling clumsily to the space next to Shea, Sasha sighed.
“Couldn’t sleep-”. Exhaled Sasha, eyes threatening to close immediately.
Opposite him, Shea tucked the warm duvet around his body; cocooning him in a barrier of comfort and familiarity.
“-I just thought that-”. A pause. Mid sentence, Sasha halted his words, Shea’s strong arm coming to wrap around his waist securely.
“I get it-”. Shea’s tone remained soothing. “-I’ve got you”. He breathed, pulling Sasha’s tired body closer against his own.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you or-”.
“Shh, relax”. Cut off Shea, Sasha’s words vanishing in to the air of the night.
“You know you can come to me anytime, Sash, I won’t turn you away”. Sasha clung to Shea’s words as he did the same to his back, smooth skin under his fingers keeping him grounded.
“I’m grateful to have you”. Began the elder man, voice full of gratitude, tapping his fingers unwittingly along the curve of Shea’s spine.
Warm.
Shea smiled; equally as warm.
Shuffling his head down on his pillow so that his head lay opposite Sasha’s, Shea allowed one of his hands to travel down and grasp one of Sasha’s adoringly.
“Bitch, you have no idea-”. A chuckle escaped Shea’s being, gaze dropping down to Sasha’s wide eyes and parted lips.
“-I couldn’t have done any of this without you. We did this together”. Continued Shea, emphasising his words with care.
“We did”. Sasha agreed, a soft smile becoming a fixture on his face.
Warm.
Sasha’s eyes slipped closed, Shea’s breath tickling breezily at the corner of his mouth and cheek.
“Sash-”. Mumbled Shea, his thumb stroking across the back of Sasha’s hand.
“Mm?”. Came Sasha’s incoherent reply, his eyes barely open, registering Shea moving closer with a faint look of contentment upon his features.
Lips.
Warm.
For the spark of passion that wasn’t present due to their exhaustion, the familiarity and the comfort, the trust and the security that always came with Shea’s was amplified by infinity with a loving giggle and a playful poke to Sasha’s side.
Uncertainty filled Sasha’s being for a moment, though it was promptly replaced with complete and utter certainty as he acknowledged Shea’s legs intertwined with his.
Shea’s fingers entangled with his own.
Shea’s lips barely touching his and a calm, steady breath exhaling onto his cheek.
Shea.
Warm.
Sasha’s surroundings were unfamiliar, but his company was far from it. Shea was everything he’d ever associated with home and security. Familiarity.
When the sun would come up in a number of hours that next morning, Shea would smile, and Sasha would reciprocate. Because it was just that.
Warm.
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