Imagine Steve Rogers watching White Christmas (1954) and seeing the ending where two-ex soldiers organize a battalion reunion to surprise their old general...
POV — something that’s already happened, retold from another character’s perspective
[Opening of Chapter Five: Stolen Minutes from Paige’s perspective instead of Hancock’s]
It was early. Stupid early. Paige knew it was, but that didn’t change the fact that she was awake. The consideration to go back to sleep crossed her mind-- to maybe re-adjust her grip on Hancock, nuzzle her head against the back of his neck, and try to sneak in a few more minutes... but every moment she remained still, her mind only got louder in reminding her all the things that needed to be done before they headed out. There was the final check on the armor, a complete inventory of their supplies to be counted, medicine to be taken and no doubt some kind of breakfast to scarf down before they hit the road. No matter how early she was awake, did she really have any time to be wasting just because laying with him was comfortable and warm? Just because she found something strangely comforting about holding him and listening to him snore?
No. She decided, and withdrew.
She’d barely managed to heft herself upright before his snoring ceased; a sure sign that she hadn’t managed to extract herself cleanly. She tried to ignore it, setting herself to a brief stretch before sliding one leg off the bed Nathan had let them use and leaning forward to stand up and out of that warmth.
Instead, she was seized around the waist, her butt landing back on the mattress.
“... John...” She sighed. She’d already fought herself. She’d tired to linger, failed, and now she was up. Did she really have to fight him, too?
“Mmmhmmm?” He hummed dimly, innocently, as his other arm joined the one that had originally halted her. Not content to simply be a ghoul-shaped paperweight, he tightened his grasp until he was securely wrapped around her hips and his face was pressed against the small of her back.
A sensitive spot, one that got distracted by the texture of his skin.
“C'mon, it's time.” She pressured, dismissing anything down that avenue of thought from her mind with extreme prejudice.
“Nnnnope.” He drawled against the bottom hem of her shirt, tightening his grip even further. “I get five minutes. Minimum.”
“What? Why?” She demanded. Then again, considering how rarely they got to sleep anywhere with even a modicum of privacy...
No, damnit, we’re not thinking about that.
“What do you think you're gonna get away with in five minutes?”
He chuckled against her back; but not the dark sort of chuckle he’d let out while they were in the middle of things and treating her to just how rough his voice could be. No, it was... softer than that.
“This.”
No sooner did he answer than he yanked her back, pulling her away from the edge of the bed and ensuring that the foot she had managed to put on the cold wood floor was pulled back up onto the mattress. “H-hey--” She protested, attempting to keep her balance and stay upright, but ultimately failing as her body landed back on the bed. She was back in the warm spot she’d left behind, held securely to keep her from rolling away. “You... we were together all night, what's five more minutes gonna do for you?”
“Didn't count.” He mumbled. “I was sleepin'.”
Seriously? She couldn’t help rolling her eyes. She’d tried to give both of them a little longer, tried to lay still for a few more minutes.
Then again, he hadn’t been awake then. Now he was, and he wanted just a little time before they faced the day. That soothed away the irritated knitting of her brow, and curved a secret smile onto her face.
With a sigh, she surrendered.
“... alright, alright... five minutes.”
With surrender, she finally allowed the tension in her core to relax, and he let go of her once he was assured she wasn’t going to try and escape again. She rolled a little, turning his way and using him as a pillow for her entire person; his arm under hear head, her arm and leg cast over him for her to scoot in close and soak up the warmth he all but endlessly generated; more precious since the blanket had gotten thrown most of the way off. Once she settled, he shifted to get comfortable himself; his hand over the arm she’d laid on him, a slight bend to his free leg, the faint turn of his head towards her.
She decided she wouldn’t actually count five minutes-- she’d leave it up to an estimation. Or maybe they’d drift off again; her mind seemed a lot quieter now.
His head moved again. She thought to ask him if she needed to move, if this angle wasn’t good for his neck, but the question was moot.
He’d bent his head to her, and kissed her forehead.
Warmth. Not his; hers. The kind that set her face on fire and made her feel as if she might see a red glow off of them, not unlike the kind that came off of her laser musket when it was fully charged.
She’d not been prepared. It was something so soft, so gentle; but most of all? It was how she was gentle to him. A kiss to his brow was something she’d done to him; something to show him that their first time hooking up, as it were, was more meaningful to her than just being friends with benefits. Neither had assigned words to it, actually talked about it, but being soft with him? That specific token of affection?
It was how she’d let him know it wasn’t just lust. That it was real.
“... John...” She murmured. Or maybe it was a plea? It was something small and uncertain, but also desperate to be heard.
“Hmmm?” He prompted inarticulately. His rough lips were still resting on her forehead. She swore she felt them curve into a smile.
I...
She couldn’t even think it. The words would not consent to pass through her head, much less onto her tongue and pass her lips.
The last time she’d said those words had been to a man who was now dead... but damnit she felt it-- felt it in the way her heart swelled beneath her ribs, desperate to keep this-- she wanted to keep this. Him.
He moved, his lips replaced with his brow as he lazily bonked his head against hers.
“'s too early to be thinkin' that hard, Paige.” He mumbled whilst withdrawing, settling back into the pillow beneath his head and neck. “Take it easy...”
I never want to wake up without you. I don’t want to be away from you.
I need you with me. I feel like I’ll fall apart if I’m on my own again.
I...
She gave up on her thoughts, on words. Instead, she leaned up, shifted herself over him, and kissed him like he’d kissed her-- softly, sweetly... but captured his lips rather than press the token on his forehead.
