Will Solace was quite content with the schedule he'd gotten for his first semester of college. Well... he was now, at least. At first he'd proclaimed that college sucked, and that it would take a lot of coffee and resignation to get through the semester.
He had 8:00 AM classes every Monday morning, which, to be frank, was worthy of quite a few head bumps against the desk he'd sat at when his schedule options popped up on his computer screen.
Waking up before the sun to make it to his Resistance Training class was not what he would consider an ideal way to start the week. Especially when Resistance Training was killer, and made each one of his muscles sore for the rest of the week. Even his brachioradialis hurt, which was dubious and definitely something that should've been written in the class's description. "Warning: sore muscles will prevail. Possible pain in sternocleidomastoid, trapezius, deltoid, teres minor, latissimus dorsi, thoracolumbar (...) and brachioradialis muscles." But that would've taken a few pages.
He wasn't out of shape by any means. He liked to think of himself as healthy, and relatively active, but still, he was no athlete. Yeah, he walked his dog every morning and night, as well as opted to always take the stairs over the elevator at school, but lifting weights? Doing countless squats, and pushups, and pull ups?
Thank you very much, but I'll take the slightly earlier death.
Anyway, he'd rather live an enjoyable childhood than a slightly longer elderly-hood when his limbs would barely be functional and every day he'd be too worried about where he last put his cane, or his dentures, or all of the other things he'd need to survive, to enjoy the simpler things in life.
He was just a science student with a passion for biology, whose schedule was so jam packed with science classes that the only PE class he could fit in was 8:00 AM Resistance Training.
However, he decided it wasn't so bad after all when he got on the 6:30 AM bus that first morning, and the delicious chocolate brown eyes of a handsome stranger sitting in the back corner caught his own. This halting collision of blue on brown continued without fail every Monday morning.
It unraveled as such: he'd march on, greeting the bus driver with a smile he hoped would make their day slightly less mundane as he payed for the ride, then allowed his gaze to dart far back to the right, where the stranger was always looking his way. Yeah, that might sound slightly creepy, and if had been anyone else staring at him persistently, he probably would've avoided them at all costs, but in the case of the soft-skinned boy with dark ruffly hair and an aura that drew attention, no matter how seemingly unwanted it was to the introverted-looking stranger, he was quite flattered. Uncomfortable, sure. He was uncomfortable under the eyes of any good looking person. But did he want it to stop? Heck no.
So, he'd walk up the bus aisle, praying it wouldn't jolt suddenly to the side like buses tended to do at the exact moment he let go of the pole. This also happened when he was being watched by someone he wanted to impress. The dark, dashing guy who'd recently made himself nice and comfy in Will's thoughts perfectly fit into that category. Said guy's eyes would remain on him this entire time, relentlessly gazing into his soul, and Will tried his hardest not to back down. However, keeping eye-contact for so long was tough, especially when the person had such beautiful eyes.
What he didn't expect this morning, the 5th monday morning of the semester, was for the only empty seat to be the one right next to the guy. To be honest, he'd never even considered the possibility of sitting next to him; that was unapproachable territory at this point. He was happy with their current routine, simple and safe eye contact. Letting his eyes wander in the boy's direction was totally different than actually wandering his way.
For god's sake, he thought, it would be weirder if I didn't take the last available seat than it would be to sit next to him.
He sat down carefully, making sure to leave a few inches between them, and the boy shamelessly turned his head to look Will's way. But only for a split second before he whipped back around and rested his head on the bus window.
Will drummed his feet nervously.
The boy seemed perfectly at ease, peacefully leaning on the bus like he could fall asleep.
When the boy's head fell forward, Will looked over at him worriedly and realized it was not at all an act, he really was comfortable. Comfortable enough to fall asleep, at least. His head bounced up and down in tune with the bumpy road, but his eyes remained shut. It was oddly endearing.
Will watched him breathe, the musical way his chest rose and fell as his head nodded, the innocence in his expression. He looked elegant but also vulnerable. He couldn't help but be reminded of a deer grazing peacefully.
He realised he was staring and turned around quickly, embarrassed.
To his right an old lady, probably in her sixties, pulled out a bulky Ipod from her purse and started listening to classical music. It sounded like Mozart, but he couldn't be sure; she, unlike a lot of teenagers these days, actually had the decency to lower her music so others wouldn't hear it bursting through her earphones.
Everyone else on the bus seemed to be asleep or fighting against sleep. They either had hoods pulled over their eyes as they rested against the window, their gaze fixed on something in front of them as their minds wandered somewhere far in space, or their hands rapidly rubbing the sleep from their eyes.
Some of the ones who had actually fallen asleep bolted awake all of the sudden as the bus made a sharp turn to the left.
Will chuckled. He would never let himself fall asleep on the bus, it made him feel too open, exposed, like he was holding up a sign to the world saying, "Do as you please, I could be a puppet, a sketchbook, a trash can, anything you want, just remember to clean up afterwards! Oh, wait, nevermind, leave the mess, I won't even know it was you!"
He sucked in a breath, all thoughts flying from his mind, when a warm figure pushed into him from his left.
He peaked sideways for a second, and the boy's eyes were still closed.
The bus kept going straight, but Will could still feel pressure on his side.
The boy was on him.
The boy was sleeping on him.
The boy was using him as a freaking pillow.
He wanted to scream. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to crawl in a hole where nothing could make him feel this way, like he was made of elastic bands any person could grab onto, and stretch, and twist, and knot, and break, until he didn't know what he was anymore. He wanted to stay in that moment forever and let the boy play with his elastics all he wanted.
He didn't know what he wanted, but the boy was sleeping on him.
And he never wanted it to stop.
He looked around. No one else seemed to have noticed.
The sun was just starting to peak above the horizon, and it was at the worst angle, where it shone straight into his eyes as soon and he peaked towards the window. It made him see spots.
He hated the time of the year when the days were slowly getting shorter and shorter and shorter. Especially when he was up early enough to notice the difference.
The sunrise was pretty, though, so many converging colors that any art student would die to wake up to.
On his shoulder, he could see better than ever before. The sun showed the highlights in his dark hair and the olive tint to his skin. His features were sharp, defined. Thin but dark eyebrows, pointed nose, clear curved lips resting open slightly, and a thin jawline. He wasn't necessarily attractive in a conventional way, but looking at him was intense, like looking at a remarkable painting.
He looked to the gray, dust covered floor and listened to the hum of the bus as it zoomed past traffic. He thought about all of the different bacteria that surely collected there over the years (Did anyone ever clean public buses?), and repeated their names over and over in his head like a prayer, a distraction.
Then he looked over to the window on his right, the one opposite the warm stranger lying on him, and watched the cars. The bus, in it's express lane, passed each one and left it waiting behind in the antagonizing traffic of morning Rush-Hour Toronto.
Too soon, they had arrived at the last stop of the bus route, a block away from the University of Toronto, the castle-like campus visible in the distance.
As if controlled by some superior power, all the people on the bus stood up in sync, except Will and what probably looked like his snuggle buddy.
He sat there, frozen, as the bus emptied, and only jumped up when the bus driver yelled back to him, "It's the end of the line, kiddo. You've gotta get out of here."
Will nodded at the bus driver as sleepyhead slid down into his seat. He sure was a deep sleeper.
Will poked his cheek tentatively.
Nothing happened.
He said, "Wake up!" in an elevated voice beside the boy's ear.
Still nothing.
He hit him upside the head. (And felt kind of strange doing it, like he was doing something illegal.)
But still, no luck.
He pinched his arm, played some music, yelled that he was about to die. He tried everything.
As childish as it seemed, and as dubious as the results were, he decided it was time to try tickling him.
Two seconds of tickling and, to his horror, his arm was caught in the death grip of the out-of-breath-from-forced-laughter boy with hysterical eyes.
They locked eyes.
Outside a seagull screeched and a child started crying. The child probably just got their sandwich stolen.
The boy then slowly let go of him, and looked around wildly, analysing the situation, trying to make sense of his surroundings.
He frowned at Will. "Why were you tickling me?"
You know when you hear someone's voice for the first time and it doesn't sound right; it's not what you'd expected? Well...
He had an accent.
An Italian accent.
He had a hot Italian accent.
And suddenly the bus was starting to feel smaller.
"Uh-um," Will stumbled. "You-you were asleep."
"Okay."
"... Y-You were asleep on me," he continued, his voice coming out incredulous.
"Oh." The boy's eyes widened, and he blushed cutely. "Um... sorry. That's embarrassing..."
"No, no, no. It's okay. It was good, I mean, it's good you got to sleep, you were obviously tired, and I'm glad I could help, and-"
Thankfully he was cut off.
"Yeah, I was definitely tired." He let out a little laugh. "I didn't have time for coffee this morning, and I need my coffee in the mornings. Especially for 8:00 AM classes."
"Tell me about it, college is a criminal."
"It's got to be contained."
Will laughed.
They both made their way out of the bus and trekked towards the school in tandem.
"Seriously, though, you sleep like a rock," Will pointed out, mostly to break the silence.
"Yeah… Sleep deprivation has become a way of life for me, so when there's nothing keeping me from sleeping, boy do I sleep."
"Definitely relatable," he chuckled. "I've found myself up in the middle of the night mumbling the names of bones and muscles way too many times to deem it a healthy habit."
"Ah, you're a science student." He glanced at Will, he didn't really look surprised. "Well then I guess I have no right to complain. It should be you sleeping on me next time."
Um… what?
Will choked on a cough.
The boy looked back at him, eyes widening. "No, no, no." He waved his arms frantically. "I didn't mean it in a weird way."
Will waved him off. "I know, I know. I overreact." He smiled. "Like, all of the time. It's sort of my thing, to make things awkward."
"Nah, I'm no better. I'm literally the source for social stupidity," Nico retorted.
"I've literally reached the dead end of social failures. You can't go further south than me."
They both laughed. "I don't know," Nico opposed. "I'm going to need some supporting evidence. In my books the facts point to me."
Will smiled, thinking about what that meant.
"I guess we've got a semester full of Monday morning bus rides to see," he replied.
The boy squinted his eyes. "Yeah," he said. "It seems so..."
They were approaching the main entrance, and students hurried around them like zoo animals, each with their own habitats to get to.
Some had notes and books clutched in their hands, like they were desperately trying to study for a nearing exam. College students were masters of procrastination.
"Thanks for, uh, waking me up," the boy said, suddenly. "You could have just left me, and I know I'm a really deep sleeper. Or you could've just pushed me off when I fell asleep on you in the first place."
Will shook his head. "No way, any decent person would have done the same. And it's no big deal, really."
They paused at the entrance.
"Well, I guess I'll be seeing you next monday." The boy smiled as he pushed open the heavy doors.
"Yeah." Will waived.
Only later did he realize he still didn't know the guy's name, but he'd have plenty of time to find that out. He smiled, remembering the sweet accent and how much more he'd be hearing it in the coming weeks.