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He's woken up next to Denny several times before but it's never been quite like this. For one thing normally Denny freaks out to some extent as soon as his eyes open, but this morning he's already awake and looking at Alan calmly. For another, and more importantly: they're naked and that isn't normal either, not even for them.
Denny's lying on his back and Alan's sprawled half across him and half across the bed, with his head resting on Denny's shoulder and one of Denny's arms around his waist. He's more comfortable and content that he remembers being in a long, long time -- even waking up with Tara in his bed didn't feel quite this good -- but he's also confused, because this is new for them and he can't quite predict how Denny's going to react.
"Good morning," he offers lamely, hesitantly.
He wonders if Denny's eventually going to back away from him and from this, and how he'll manage to keep their friendship intact if he does. It's too important to him to lose.
"Morning," Denny yawns, glancing over at the clock. "What day is it?"
"Saturday," Alan says, after pausing to try and remember. "Why?"
"If it's Saturday we don't need to get up yet," Denny says. He shifts to make himself more comfortable and closes his eyes again. "Go back to sleep."
Alan lifts his head from Denny's shoulder and watches him until he opens his eyes again, feeling the weight of the silent scrutiny. Denny looks at him in confusion, still partially sleep-fogged, and Alan wonders how it is that this is going so differently, so much better, than he ever imagined it would.
Realistically he knows he should count his blessings and just go back to sleep but the unsure, cynical, vulnerable part of himself won't let this go by without questioning it.
"What?" Denny asks, when they've stared at each other for over a minute without saying anything.
"Last night we slept together," Alan informs him, as though he might've missed it. "We had sex, Denny. With each other."
"I know," Denny says. "I was there. Denny Crane! I remember."
"And you're okay with that, are you?" Alan sits up, looking down into Denny's eyes. "Forgive me, Denny, but you've never seemed overly enamoured with the idea before."
Denny sits up to face him, shaking off the last traces of sleep. "Alan. What's this about?"
"What are we doing?" Alan asks bluntly. "What did this mean?"
He doesn't want to create issues out of nothing but if this isn't ever going to happen again, he wants to know about it now. He prefers to face disappointment head on and sooner rather than later and, for all the times they've joked and played around, Denny's never defined what they are as anything other than best friends.
For that matter, he admits to himself, neither has he. He's always been too afraid that he'll be wrong and Denny will hate him for it, for pushing the boundaries of what is only a friendship to him and turning the ease between them into discomfort. Denny is the only constant he has in his life and he values their friendship above everything else.
"It means what it means," Denny shrugs, not looking half as concerned about the answer as Alan feels. "Why do you have to define everything? It's quarter to eight in the morning. On a Saturday! For the love of god, man, go back to sleep."
The words sting, even though Alan knows Denny doesn't mean them to.
He has to define things that concern Denny because Denny holds more power over him than he ever wanted to give away, and because last night -- with Denny's lips against his and Denny's hands on his skin, sending fiery tingles skittering across the surface -- he found the closest thing to completion that he's ever experienced, and he's terrified he won't get to feel it again.
He slides numbly towards the edge of the bed. He needs to move, to get away from this and from Denny; from these feelings that felt wonderful, moments ago, but now just feel claustrophobic. He makes a move to stand up and finds himself tumbling backwards, landing against crisp white sheets with Denny leaning over him, eyes serious.
"Let me go," he says, trying half-heartedly to escape.
"No," Denny says mildly, looking at him with warmth, affection and possibly, if he's not seeing it just because he wants to, love. "I won't do that."
He stills under Denny's grip because Denny's eyes tell him that the words mean something more than they seem to at first listen, and he's filled with relief when he understands what that is. Whatever this off-beat relationship they share ends up meaning, it's destined to last longer than just last night.
He relaxes, half-smiling, and closes his eyes when Denny leans in closer to kiss him. Being able to communicate without words does come in handy from time to time, and he and Denny are almost always on the same wavelength. He likes knowing that he has someone who understands him, even when his ideas and actions seem somewhat crazy.
Alan knows that most people find him odd, but when he's with Denny that doesn't seem to matter because Denny's his perfect match, the yin to his yang, and when they're together he forgets that he's anything other than normal.
"You're not going to go back to sleep are you?" Denny says resignedly when they break apart to breathe, his tone making the words more of a statement than a question.
Alan leans his forehead against Denny's shoulder and smiles at the mock-grouchiness in his voice. Denny's body is warm and solid next to his and he can feel sleep stealing over him, even though moments ago he could have sworn he was fully awake.
"I could sleep a bit longer," he says then, wriggling into a more comfortable position. "It is Saturday after all, no real reason to get up yet."
Denny smiles and pulls him closer as he closes his eyes again.
"Exactly what I was thinking," he says.