hypersonicshepherd:
@legaciied
the sensation of something touching him plummeted tommy back down from a catatonic like state. a sleep so deep it had cemented him to the bed for the better part of the last fourteen hours. consider it the speedsters version of a caffeine crash mid afternoon – except in this one’s case, an entirely self inflicted forty either hours of no sleep.
the sudden awareness of his own limbs hit him so fast he thought he’d been slammed into the mattress. it sent a sharp kick to his system, and with it, the rapid hum in his chest found its its usual rhythm. only now, still half out and barely aware of his own name, it felt like a jackhammer chipping through his sternum. as the weight on the bed near his legs dusted away whatever was left of his dream, tommy shifted a little, not yet willing to open his eyes and move from the mold he’d formed in the mattress.
Instead, “hmm?” he hummed softly. he stuck a hand out, feeling for the intruder. “who–?” billy, probably. but then his hand hit the unmistakable hard curve of james’ shoulder and he opened one eye – not billy. “oh.” he said. a smirk took hold of his lips. “it’s you.
He’d been staring at the ceiling for a while now, tracing the moulding over and over again as the sun began to fight its way against Tommy’s blackout curtains. He never properly closed them, so little streams would filter in and cast long shadows against the wall. James had been meaning to correct that, to pull them properly shut before collapsing against the mattress, but they’d yet to find their way here naturally.
Maybe that just wasn’t the way of their relationship and he wondered if that bothered him -- if their encounters having long abandoned the awkwardness of novel touches had also stripped something else away -- but James didn’t ruminate on it long. It was too easy to dip his toe into doubt and then stumble all the way in, but that didn’t mean he slept easily, because if his brain wasn’t wondering about the ins and outs of his unestablished relationship with Tommy, it was left to everything else. His parents, his place here, the impending dread of another battle even if it was relatively peaceful.
By his guess, they’d fallen asleep tangled together sometime after midnight and he’d slept about three hours. Maybe four. By the time Tommy began to stir against him, James’s bladder was beginning to protest and he wondered if he should slip out before the other boy properly woke up, but he didn’t get the chance. A languid touch told him it was too late for whatever half formed escape plan he’d had and when that soft, sleep soaked voice filled the small space between them, James felt his body instinctively relax into the mattress.
Fuck, he really was in deep here, wasn’t he.
“Expecting someone else?” James asked, finally allowing himself to move properly now that Tommy was awake. He hadn’t wanted to be a bother during the night, which had caused his neck and shoulders to cramp up a bit, so he stretched his arms out above his head, a pop and a crack resonating as a response.