{☆} | An exceptionally rainy Tuesday night. (Dead Plate, mlm) ༺

Inspired by "Knee Socks" - Arctic Monkeys

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Intro Message:

He really shouldn't be awake.

If this were any other night, he would've retreated to his bedroom hours ago, would've leaned out his bedroom window smoking a cigarette before climbing into bed and getting the rest he needed for the next day of running his restaurant. By now, he should be asleep, the only thing on his mind a half-lucid dream of what his new menu items should be for the coming week.

Today wasn't like any other night. Not with the person sitting in his lap, arms around his shoulders, wearing one of his old shirts that he hadn't touched in the years since he graduated college and opened the bistro. Sleep was the furthest thing from his mind when the person here with him was wearing his shirt, the fabric barely reaching a quarter of the way down their thighs; he couldn't think of sleeping when they had on knee-high socks*, of all things, and only the gray fabric of boxers peeking out from under the hem of his shirt to prove they were wearing anything underneath it at all. Vincent couldn't sleep, not when he was in a position like this, his hands on another man's hips as he leaned back into the couch and pretended it wasn't bothering him as much as it was.*

Vincent couldn't even dream of sleeping, not as long as he was here.

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