Jock Next Bed (BL)
Chapter 221: Awkward sleepover

Chapter 221: Awkward sleepover

Dinner was... normal. Well, not exactly. The table was full of delicacies Sky couldn’t even name. So much variety that he just sat there for a moment, dumbstruck.

He wasn’t really a "food guy." Never had been. But as he stared at the perfectly plated dishes, he found himself wondering—really wondering—if Chris had truly enjoyed his mother’s and his simple home-cooked meals. When this was what he was used to.

The conversation was light. They said random stuff, but it felt like they were just using small talk to patch over the silence. Like they both knew something had almost happened, and now they were carefully pretending it hadn’t.

Sky tried not to let it bother him.

He’d touched Chris. His bare chest. His skin. And Chris hadn’t just allowed it—he’d liked it.

Sky could not stop thinking about it. No matter how hard he tried.

When dinner was over, they didn’t have to do the dishes. Apparently, "they" would handle it. Chris had said it casually, like it was nothing. "They get paid for it," he’d explained when he noticed Sky’s hesitation, as if that made it easier for Sky to accept.

It didn’t. Not really. But Sky nodded anyway. Tried to relax. He really did.

And then the awkwardness came roaring back.

"We probably need to shower properly now," Chris said, suddenly, eyes wide the moment the words left his mouth. "I mean—not together or anything! Just—like—we only rinsed off earlier, and we should actually, you know, shower. Separately. Obviously."

Sky blinked. Then gave a single, solemn nod. "’Course."

Sky would never admit it out loud, but it was always adorably hilarious whenever Chris was like that.

Chris cleared his throat. "Right."

Sky looked at him.

Chris looked at the floor.

And both of them thought, God, this is getting worse.

Sky showered. Brushed. Changed. His nightwear was soft, light, and smelled faintly of peach and something vaguely like Chris’s room back in his home.

He had just finished towel-drying his hair—half-damp, sticking out in all the wrong directions and now setting up the new phone—when there was a soft knock on the door.

Sky didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t expecting it. He smiled.

"Come in."

The door creaked open—hesitant—and for a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, the head of a stuffed panda poked through the gap.

Sky blinked, lips twitching.

Next came Chris’s head, half-grinning. "Thought you might be scared at night, so I brought Mr. P to keep you company. He wards off ghosts. And cold."

Sky crossed his arms and legs, settling back against the headboard as the smile tugged deeper at his lips. "Mr. P?"

Chris stepped in fully, the panda tucked under one arm, the door clicking shut behind him. He wore soft cotton two-piece sleepwear, cream. It suits him perfectly.

"Mr. Panda. P for short. Obviously."

Sky chuckled, the sound low and unguarded. "You really are talentless when it comes to naming things, huh?"

Chris gasped in mock offense. "Excuse you. I probably got it from your mother, who named her kids Sky and Rain."

Sky laughed, unfiltered. "You’re capping. You like my name. You think it’s unique."

Chris looked at him for a beat too long. "Not exactly," he said slowly, then added, "But you are."

The words landed with more weight than they should have.

Sky blinked. Okay. He hadn’t seen that coming.

A small flustered beat passed. He uncrossed his legs in a sudden, self-conscious movement, tugging slightly at the edge of his shirt.

"Don’t flirt with me," he muttered.

Chris’s smile turned wicked—just a little. "Why not?"

"Because it’s night," Sky said, as if that was an actual excuse.

Chris raised an eyebrow. "That’s when most flirting happens."

Sky threw the nearest pillow at him. "Go sleep."

Chris caught the pillow and grinned. "Is that an invitation?"

Sky stared at him, deadpan. "I will suffocate you with Mr. P."

Chris held the panda protectively. "He would never betray me like that."

Sky shook his head, chuckling despite himself.

Then—awkward silence.

Chris cleared his throat. "Uhm... so, good night." He turned slightly, hand brushing the door handle—

"You know you don’t want to," Sky said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. Did he want to stop them? No.

Chris paused, glancing back. "What?"

Sky shifted on the bed, suddenly aware of how warm his cheeks felt. "I mean... this bed’s big enough. For like, a thousand Mr. Ps." He tried to sound casual. He didn’t succeed.

Chris blinked. Processing. Then his eyes lit up with unmistakable mischief.

"Oh no, no, no—I do not mean to intrude," he said primly. "I am totally fine—"

"Chris—"

"—fuck it," Chris muttered, diving onto the bed with full dramatic flair, limbs flailing and Mr. P flying.

Sky yelped, half-startled, half-laughing. "You maniac."

Chris turned his head on the pillow to look at him, grinning. "You said the bed could fit a thousand Mr. Ps. I’m just doing math."

Sky rolled his eyes but he couldn’t hide the amused smile tugging at his lips. "You’re insufferable."

"Unfortunately."

They lay there for a second, silence stretching just long enough to feel... noticeable. The air wasn’t heavy, but something had changed. Again.

Chris was still grinning, but there was a softness in his eyes now—like he wasn’t sure how far to go. "So, uh... what are the sleep rules?"

Sky raised a brow. "Rules?"

"Yeah, like—am I allowed to steal the blanket? Do I get elbowed if I roll over and accidentally breathe too close to your neck?"

Sky snorted. "I’m not that precious."

"Noted," Chris said, already making himself comfortable, legs stretching just enough to nudge Sky’s.

There was a beat.

"Hey, Sky?" Chris’s voice was quieter now.

"Yeah?"

"I know I joke a lot. But... this is okay, right? Me staying?"

Sky didn’t answer right away. Instead, he shifted slightly, then reached out to drop the phone by the bedstand and turn off the bedside lamp. The room dimmed, washed in soft moonlight that slipped through the curtains.

In the quiet, he murmured, "Yeah."

Then he lay down fully, pulling the covers up, letting them settle between the warmth and the hush of the night.

Chris exhaled—quietly, but Sky heard it.