"Ah, don't worry about it," Ed hears himself say, a breath of words in the dark, casual as he can make them. "Happens all the time. Dick can't be put to sleep some nights, it's just down there having its own thoughts when you're fast asleep."
Stede makes an awkward noise in his throat, a sort of wheezing breath that suggests Ed hasn't fixed the awkward yet, drawn attention to it if anything.
He scrabbles for more, or for better.
"You want me to take care of it." Maybe not that, but it's out there in the dark now. An offer choked out of his mouth by his brain which has spent far too long relying on his instincts and his good sense and very occasionally his needs. "It's not a big deal, happens all the time, someone else giving it a quick bit of attention'll see you right."
Something in his head is quietly screaming. But it's the part that didn't offer any other suggestions and left him blurting the first thing that came to him while they're pressed together in the dark, so it only has itself to fucking blame.
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