Books scattered across a wooden black table. Open textbooks, highlighters, crumpled up pieces of paper, and you had the makings of a perfect study session, but even with coffee, Cody couldn't stay awake. And Marshall wasn't far behind him. He rubbed his eyes, and looked at the messy table before them, coffee cups littering its surface around his study partner, sound asleep. Marshall had to give him credit, he tried so hard to stay up, to keep up. Something Marshall had little trouble doing with the help of his medication, and it only got harder for his friend as the night grew long, and it soon became clear that maybe it was time to stop.
Cody made that perfectly clear during the final stretch where he spent just a minute to long analyzing a diagram of the human body, leaning closer and closer to the page until his head fell onto the open book and light snores leaked out of his muzzle.
The clock further cemented the fact that bedtime had come and gone, and now the clock read the time: "Only crazy dogs are still up studying o'clock."
And since only crazier dogs would sleep at a desk, Marshall nudged Cody's shoulder, but only got incoherent mumbles in protest.
"Cody, you can't sleep out here."
"I can keep going, just resting my eyes," Cody said, repositioning his head and closing his eyes again.
"Cody, it's 9 P.M, I think we're done for the night."
Groaning to himself, Cody sat up slowly and looked at the messy table in front of him and sighed. "Sorry Marshall, I did my best to keep up. Aren't you tired?"
"Sort of," Marshall said, closing his notebook and textbook next to it. "We really made a mess."
"I'll leave it for tomorrow. I'll be right back, gotta change." Getting up slowly, Cody disappeared into his room.
Marshall, deciding to do the same and stripped off his shirt and pants and slipped on some sweats and left it at that. Walking over to the gray couch he unrolled his red sleeping bag on top of it. He positioned a pillow at the end of it and settled onto the couch, which felt lumpy if he were being honest, and gazed up to the white ceiling. But he turned his head when Cody came back.
"Hey Marshall, where were you thinking of. . ." Cody dropped the blanket he had been carrying, pausing, taking Marshall in before fumbling for the blanket. "Nice. . . jammies."
"Thanks."
Marshall started to get under his sleeping bag when Cody stopped him, letting out a small whine.
"Wait, Marshall, I can't let you sleep here, that couch is not comfy."
Marshall got up to a sitting position. "Where can I sleep then?"
Cody faltered, an uncomfortable silence falling over them, an occurrence that never happened during their youth, but now occurred frequently.
"Well, you can take my bed, and I can sleep here," he said, rubbing his neck.
A shiver went down Marshall's spine, though he was perfectly warm, nevertheless he sat up and pulled the sleeping bag so it was draped over his shoulders. "Are you sure, it's really no trouble, I am a heavy sleeper."
"I'm sure Marshall, really."
"But, you just told me how uncomfortable the couch is, that's hardly fair to you."
Cody brought an arm across his chest. "I fall asleep out here all the time. I'm used to it."
Another pause as Marshall though it over, tried to think of any way to politely decline such an offer but when nothing came to him he sighed and nodded his head. "Ok, but you have to promise to come wake me up if you can't sleep," Marhsall said.
Cody laughed nervously and nodded his head. "I promise."
Marshall left his sleeping bag, figuring Cody would need it more than he did, giving him a second layer of cushion, and walked off, trying to ignore the guilt from leaving him to sleep there while Marshall took his bed.
Feeling his way through the dark hallway, he made it to Cody's room. A queen size bed sat in the corner of the room against light blue walls. He reached the edge of the bed and placed his bags down, running his paws over the soft maroon comforter. Turning around to a smaller plasma television and a bookshelf tucked away on the far wall underneath the window, he took in a deep breath.
Marshall felt his chest tighten as he got under the covers. His stomach doing somersaults as his friend's scent, rosemary and cedarwood overpowered him as his head hit the pillow.
Marshall didn't have time to question anything with sleep already coaxing him into submission. Barely aware of his actions, he tried to block out all sensation from his body. Tried to keep Cody's voice out of his head and his face out of his thoughts. He survived another interaction, another test, another painful encounter. But it was better this way. He just needed to keep himself in order and not cross any lines, keep things casual, friendly, platonic.
While his mind rationalized and set boundaries, just before sleep took him, his body acted independently from his mind, and he grabbed the neighboring pillow and pulled it tight to his chest, taking in long steady breaths as the intoxicating scent melted away his stress and tension.
It was happening again, stronger now, and this time, he didn't fight it. Why did he have to complicate things? Why did he have to feel like this? Why couldn't he just forget about him?
It was effortless with Cody when they were young, so carefree and comfortable. Not now. Every action and conversation, every touch carefully chosen and filtered. Everything that was once simple was now complicated and awkward and it was all his fault.
Because he was in love with a dog he couldn't love. Ryder's rules were crystal clear about that. And that wasn't even the biggest reason.