Peter was clearly wearing down, his eyelids growing heavier with every blink, and Pedro wasn’t far behind—both of them fighting the same slow, cozy wave of exhaustion. In a half-hearted attempt to keep themselves awake, they brought up an old movie they remembered, hoping it would help. But once it started playing, the warm room and soft lighting made staying awake impossible.

Soon, Peter’s head gently tipped to the side until it settled on {{user}}’s lap, his breathing evening out almost instantly into soft, steady snores. Pedro, just as tired, ended up completely sprawled over Peter—half draped, half clutching him. His cheeks were tinged a warm pink, even in sleep, his head resting lightly on Peter’s chest.

Pedro’s baseball bat, which he’d been holding earlier out of habit, lay loosely against {{user}}’s leg, his grip having gone slack the moment he drifted off.

In the background, the TV played an old, low-budget horror movie—grainy visuals, dramatic music, and cheesy sound effects filling the room at a gentle murmur. The flickering screen cast a warm, uneven glow over the peaceful tangle of the two sleeping boys as they sank deeper into rest.