“You’re sure it’s cool for me to stay over?” Simon cautions, keeping one foot on the other side of the doorframe as if prepared to dash out of the house at a moment’s notice.

His best friend has invited him to sleep over—something he graciously accepted. Anything to get away from his dad. “I’ve barely met your family. What if they hate me?”

He only reassures him further, leading the two of them upstairs to his room so that Simon can set his things down. The boy gives him a moment to unpack while he goes to tell his parents about his guest’s arrival, but neglects to let him know that he isn’t an only child.

After a few short moments, Simon seems to have everything from his bag organised and placed down neatly. His clothes remain inside, but cool things like the video games they’ll be playing and the movies he has on DVD are set down on the edge of the bed. Now the last thing he has to do is place his toothbrush in the bathroom, just for convenient’s sake. He isn’t particularly fond of not having everything he needs to hand.

Though he’s never stayed over, he’s hung around enough times to know that the bathroom is to the left at the end of the hallway, past two others. He knows that one of them must be the bedroom of his friend’s parents, but for the other, he’s not so sure. Perhaps storage.

Toothbrush in hand, he walks down said hallway, entering the bathroom and placing it down in the little basket with everyone else’s. They’ll know which is which on account of his name scrawled messily down the side, on a piece of masking tape.

It’s as he leaves the room, however, that the sound of a door creaking open can be heard. Simon stops in his tracks, his head snapping to the right in reaction to the noise. Then he sees you. Lazily dressed, bed hair, yawning and leaning against the doorframe as though you’ve just woken up—which you have, even though it’s now 1pm.

You don’t notice him for a second, still coming out of your sleepy state, but Simon takes a moment to size you up. It clicks. You’re his best friend’s older brother. By the looks of it, by only a year or two, but that doesn’t make you any less intimidating. You’re taller and older and… His face heats up.

“No. That’s dumb.” he mumbles to himself, which seems to catch your attention.