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Somehow, they’d fallen into a bit of a…
routine.[break][break]
Rather than continue to frequent bars or scroll endlessly through tinder, it’d become easy for Em to find himself texting a particular
someone in the later hours of the night whenever the mood for
company struck. Not that Em never used those other options, but homebody that he was, it was unsurprising that he’d started defaulting to the option that required a degree less social energy.[break][break]
Though on the other hand it meant sacrificing a certain degree of both his dignity and sanity given how good Sen was at infuriating Em with little to no words. But so long as he could vent that frustration physically, it was fine.[break][break]
That was easier to accept than the idea that he’d grown more
accustomed to the other’s mouthier antics.[break][break]
Though maybe he shouldn’t have indulged the habit quite so much. Maybe he’d been depending on the fallback a little too often for comfort. And he definitely shouldn’t have started to find himself wondering when the next time would be, or occasionally sending Sen stupid memes just to earn a
LMFAOOO in response.[break][break]
But every time Em resolved to distance himself from the habit, he always found some excuse to cave. It was like he couldn’t help himself. It was work stress, he told himself. He had been unyieldingly busy at Silph Co. and he
needed to blow off that steam by blowing, well…you know.
Whatever.[break][break]
Which had been how he’d justified
tonight’s infraction too.[break][break]
That, and he felt strangely on edge in his own apartment. A place he was usually most secure. It felt outside of himself, like a strange, ominous pressure. But he chalked it up to typical social anxieties and stressors regardless.[break][break]
He ignored the creeping feeling of being watched, and tried not to feel too pathetic after he sent the message. Or when Sen confirmed with a familiar
omw. Or when he actually showed up at the door, and Em had practically yanked him inside and wasted no time in, er, conducting business as usual.[break][break]
Something he was sure Sen would feel smug again, but Emerson would self-loathingly dwell on his obvious desperation later.[break][break]
The lights were off save for the glow of his monitor and desktop tower, but that was hardly unusual for the redhead. It wasn’t like they needed the lights on to tango, anyway.
“Been busy?” he asked casually between the press of their mouths. Maybe he should’ve slowed down, but that would mean being forced to acknowledged that he actually wanted to know the answer.[break][break]
Or that they had actually become…
friendly. That they’d ascended from vague hookup territory to
friends with benefits. Or something.
[attr="class","oocnotes"]
[attr="class","icon-electric"] oh no....not the dreaded concept of friendly