(for Day 8 of the 12 Days of Carnivale: “a time of miracles”)
[Jopson/Little, set in my modern office AU]
Part of that, of course, could be explained by the man sound asleep next to him in his bed, curled onto his side with an arm flung halfway across Tom’s chest.
Edward seemed comfortable, at least, his face freed from that furrowed, serious expression he wore so often in the waking hours. He looked softer now, more relaxed, those long boyish lashes fanning towards his cheeks. The bedroom lights were off, but his features were partially illuminated by the glow of lights from the Christmas tree spilling from the living room, even though the holiday had been over for nearly a week at this point.
Tom was a light sleeper, he always had been, and having someone else in bed with him tended to make things even trickier. But that was something he was definitely willing to deal with if it meant Edward staying over. It hadn’t been every night – they weren’t quite at that stage yet – but in the two weeks since the office holiday party, Edward had slept over at Tom’s more often than not, with the exception of the three days Tom had gone home to spend Christmas with his family.
It had all happened so fast, after the Secret Santa thing. As the party had worn down, someone had come up with the idea of a bunch of them going for drinks at the bar around the corner, and Tom could tell that if he said yes Edward would come too. (Thankfully, Irving declined, citing a family engagement.) So they both went, and in between Hartnell buying everyone a second round of Jäger shots and Morfin’s drunken serenade to the long-suffering bartender, they found themselves outside on the sidewalk, ostensibly to get some air, even though it was freezing cold and Tom had started to lose some of the feeling in his fingers.
They had huddled near each other, theoretically for warmth, eventually inching closer than they had any real need to be. Until, of course, the moment when Edward had leaned over and kissed him. Tom’s face was nearly frozen solid, but Edward’s lips were warm (with just the slightest aftertaste of Jäger), and he smiled and pulled his hands from his coat pockets so he could curl them around the back of Edward’s neck.
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