Strength

[PRE-RELATIONSHIP]

OJ had been working pretty hard all day. He was well aware that his best friend was quite the workaholic... he always insisted on taking care of every little problem himself, never bothering to listen to a word of what he'd say when he offered to help out...

It... annoyed him. A lot. It made him feel... sort of worthless, he supposed. Like OJ... didn't really need him.

But he knew OJ was trying. He wasn't doing it intentionally or with malice, he just... had a bit too large of an ego, after he won the first season.

Paper could deal with that. He'd been dealing with it for so long, after all. No life was totally perfect...

Still, he brushed those thoughts aside, fidgeting with his fingers in bed. Normally, he'd be asleep by now, but today his worries just wouldn't leave him alone. He glanced up at the clock on the wall... and of course it was nearing 2am.

Had OJ passed out in his office? Paper wouldn't be surprised if he had.

He slowly pushed himself out of bed, a low grunt escaping him as he made his way to OJ's office.

And... yep, he had passed out on the desk... it was a miracle that neither his juice nor the coffee cup nearby had spilled all over it.

Paper stood near the desk, wondering wha he should do. Should he just... leave him there?

Well... surely not, right? It must be uncomfortable...

He pondered the question for a while, eventually deciding that he might as well carry him to bed... there was no harm in doing so. It was just a favour for a friend... a good friend.

Paper stepped around the desk and gently hoisted OJ into his arms. He was awfully strong, for an object of his fragile nature, able to pick OJ up with relative ease.

As he began to lead them back to their room, he heard a noise emitting from the sleeping glass. What? Had he imagined that?

He blinked his attention back to OJ... and heard it again, more distinct and audible this time.

"Mmph... Paperrr...?"

...Was OJ dreaming about him?

No, surely not... it was probably just a coincidence... or he imagined it.

And then he felt OJ's arms wrap around his thin frame, and noticed the delicate smile on his face...

Paper's feet were suddenly glued to the ground. He was completely stunned, and truly began to think about what he was doing...

...Carrying OJ... to his bed...

God- he had to shake those thoughts away. OJ couldn't like him like that-

"Mmph... noo... you're prettier..."

Paper would've given absolutely anything to be able to see into OJ's dream. What could've been causing him to say something like that? Was it still him? Or was it someone else? Had he really said his name earlier, or had he simply imagined it because he WANTED OJ to say his name? Did this mean anything or was it one of those stupid dreams you forge-

"Nuh-uh. I love you more... cuddles..."

Paper's entire face turned a deep shade of crimson. OJ's grip tightened, to the point that he was beginning to wrinkle...

He didn't know how much more of this he could physically take without going insane...

"Hahah... that sounds nice, dear..."

Paper didn't know what possessed him to rush to their room at lightning speed, but he was now sitting on OJ's bed and reaching for his cork. All while OJ continued to cling to him like a cute little koala.

It took a lot of effort to reach up and gently shove the cork in his glass, prying him off of him, finger by finger. He watched OJ fall back onto the bed, still asleep as his arms moved to cling onto a pillow as a substitute, a little patch of drool forming on it.

...Why'd he have to look so... so...

...Adorable?

He often wondered if... maybe one day, he'd have the strength to confess to him. If one day, he'd be able to hold his hand, or take him out on dates, or give him a kiss... it should be so easy, shouldn't it...?

Paper shook those thoughts away, walking over to his own bed, on the other side of the room.

He didn't get a wink of sleep all night.