When Red returned to his still running truck, he shook Beverly awake, him tucking a few curls behind each ear to get a clear view of his face. He paused, taking a deep breath, visualizing what it was like to be held again. To hold another again.

Red knew what he was doing when he had requested that the creepy give them a room with only one bed. But what did he expect, for the two of them to revel in one another again.

Sure, Beverly was most likely the most sweetest person to ever walk the earth, but even he couldn't contain his anger when Red blamed it all of him. Which lead to him calling Red an ass.

Red shook Beverly awake again, this time Beverly's eyes narrowing into slits at the unfamiliar scenery. "W-What's going on, Red? Where are we?"

"Some Motel, I'm exhausted, and you were already sleeping so . . ." Beverly puts a hand against Red's chest, the older man blushing slightly when realizing that he was rambling. "Whatever, let's just go."

Heading to the back of the truck, Red slung both of his bags over his shoulders, snatching Beverly's along the way. "I—thank you, Matthew."

Red almost gasps aloud at hearing Beverly thank him, including his middle name. The only people ever call him by his government name were his annoying sisters, and brothers.

The made their way up the metal staircase, that lead up to the room the two had been given. 207.

Red injected the given key, twisting the knob and pushing it open. The room was nothing special, just two nightstands, a lamp on each of them, a dresser, a tv—but Beverly paused at the last unmentioned detail.

There was only one bed.

Beverly looked over to Red, who'd already made his way into the room, looking we calm and unbothered as always.

"R-Red, there must be some kind of mistake, there's only one bed—"

"It wasn't a mistake. I asked for one bed." Beverly was confused. He watched as Red tossed their things onto the simple bedspread, Red not wasting another moment before pulling off his t-shirt, and tossing it away.

As it sprawled along the flooring, Beverly's heart went into an overdrive.

"I call the left side." Beverly didn't argue, only slipping his sneakers off, and kicking them under the bed.

The two lied side by side on the shared bed, their breaths and the faint sound of the tv, were the only sounds to be heard. Red leaned in closer to Beverly, who instinctively leaned back.

The slight movements were forgotten within seconds, when Red's anticipation for conversation began to conjure.

Although, he didn't know how to approach the twenty-year-old, he was determine either way.

"I was involved in a drive by, when I was nineteen."

His soft words were hung out into the air, Beverly itching at his wrist while wondering what Red was even talking about. And then it hit him—Red was in jail for several years, and the crime must have been extreme for such a sentence.

"You don't have to, uh, tell me anything—"

"No, I do. Because I've been an asshole since The whole one night thing, and I need you to know why."