This is almost entirely @drafthorsemath's fault. We were talking about Crosshair and got sad... so I needed write a little something and figured I'd kill two birds with one stone for the Clone x Reader Bingo prompt: Bed. (It's not spicy - I just wanted a tiny snip of fluff)
In my head, this is a Doc/Crosshair future scene, but it can be read as gender neutral and totally apart from the Doc Series.
Warnings: Crosshair being Crosshair, but he's really a softy. Snuggling in bed. Probably one of the least Warning-heavy things I've written
I knew he’d be there, sprawled out on my cot as if it were the most natural thing in the world, feigning pure ignorance to the way seeing him like that made my heart jump as wisps of glee sparked through my stomach. I knew he’d allude to some annoyance that I’d intruded while he was so near to sleep, all the while fighting the faintest hint of a smile as he reached for me, and I knew that he wouldn’t dare let himself actually begin to drift off until he held me firmly in his arms, but there will always be some profound disconnect in consciously anticipating these things, in imaging the façade of a scowl ruined by the love he couldn’t quite keep from those golden eyes, in remembering the feel of his hands and the warmth of his touch, the strength of his embrace surrounding me and the steady beat of his heart thudding softly against my cheek, with actually living through those breath-taking moments.
His arm already lay draped dramatically over his eyes as the door hissed open, flooding the room with an unforgiving light, and I couldn’t stifle the tiny chuckle that caught in my throat at his grumble.
“I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to show up.” Crosshair drawled with a careful boredom that I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at as I walked past him to set my supplies down on the counter to be dealt with later.
“Keep giving me that attitude and maybe I’ll find somewhere else to sleep tonight.” I retorted, but before I could take more than a few steps back toward the door, his arms latched about my waist, wrenching a bark of laughter from me as he hauled me toward him, something torn between a growl and a grunt rumbling from his chest.
“Alright, alright! Scoot over!” I yielded, joy singing through my voice. He refused to release me as he shifted slightly, guiding me down until I lay nestled atop his chest, body thrilling in the want fueling his hold, in the flutter of his breath through my hair as he lightly touched his lips to my brow.
“I missed you, too.” I whispered, and it was so nearly teasing were it not for the depth of some unspoken promise veiled within those words. I’ve missed you just as desperately as you’ve missed me. I understand all the secret murmurs you can’t bring yourself to say through any means other than hidden touches and the covetous strength of your embrace. I couldn’t think and not wonder about you, if you were safe, if you were happy, if you were thinking about me, too. I couldn’t breathe without searching for the scent of you upon the air, and not a moment passed in which I didn’t long to return to you.
Trying to put the entirety of those thoughts into words would only work to cheapen the violence of emotion fueling them, and so we said nothing more as a relief more profound than the first rays of sun after an unending winter storm settled quietly about the room. I felt the deep breath slowly leave him, taking with it all of the tension and fear and worry that weighed upon every second we were apart, and found my own breath mimicking his in that same release.
I’d known he’d be here, laying atop my bed in the perfect allusion to an effortless sleep we both knew he’d been robbed of since I’d left. I’d known he’d play the role of aloof impatience all the while restraining himself from giving in to the need to feel me against him until the last minute. And I knew his lips now pulled into a gentle smile that he’d never reveal to anyone but me as we finally allowed ourselves to rest, eager for the comfort of the coming night safe in each other’s arms.
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