AN: Blame Drake for this because I don't know who's POV this is written in.

Ambiguous song fic one-shot is ambiguous

I'd rather be with you/but you are not around

So Imma call somebody up/and see if they be down

Because I hate sleeping alone

I hate sleeping alone

"Kiss me like you miss me."

And he does, enveloping his other half in strong arms and leveling him until they end up as a hump of tangled limbs on his living room floor. This is how they end up, it's always how they end up, in a pile of each other on the floor with heaving chests and soft promises.

"I missed you that much."

"I barely felt that."

"Am I losing my touch?"

"You have to have one to lose one."

Seamlessly they separate, only to gravitate towards each other again. Horizontal bodies pressed tightly together, like the last two puzzle pieces of a jigsaw. Hands moving, tongues lapping, legs wrapping and trapping the two to each other. Kisses grow longer the less breath they take and when they do pause, it's for breathy moans of their names laced with desire.

The temperature between them lowers enough to allow them to clamber up on his couch. They collapse into a sweaty lump of lovers on his old couch, panting.

"I hate sleeping alone." His other half mutters into some body part he can't see. He silently agrees, it's a sentiment shared between them and both of them hate it. Alone is what each of them hates, it's what drove them to each other in the beginning. It is a fear that they both have, even as they are together.

Half the time we don't end up fucking/I don't ask him for nothing

you leave me in the morning/I don't see him for months

But I just hate sleeping alone

I hate sleeping alone

He sighs heavily into the worn cushion, the mood gone. "I'm trying."

"Try harder."

He leads them both in the untangling of their limbs, "What do you want me to say?"

His other half doesn't answer, he assumes the topic is dropped. They break away and stay outside of each other's orbits on the couch. He wants to tell him that everything will be okay and that they'll be alright but he can't. As long as they keep these rendezvous discreet, he can't guarantee anything and he hates it.

"You want this, don't you?" The other one asks from within his orbit range.

"Whatever it is we have."

"You know what I mean." A hint of frustration hidden in the tone.

A silence falls upon them, quiet and contemplative. He doesn't know if he should be worried or relieved by it. "…I want it to be something more, something bigger."

The feeling's mutual but he can't bring himself to say it.

AN: What is this writing style? And this ending? *flips table*

Little blurb though-One of my fics is being translated into Russian. I can't read it but I'm honored, really. Think I'm gonna post a link to it on my profile.