Barry rubbed his sweaty face against the sheets as the bed jostled. Len was putting space between them, stretching out on the far side of the bed. Barry reminded himself not to take it personally.
A minute later, a hand appeared on his head. Short blunt nails raked over his scalp, leaving pleasant tingles in their wake.
Barry smiled into his pillow. He loved this little compromise of Len's for him.
Len, as he loved to remind him, despised the heat. This included post-sex sweatiness with a dire need for space and a wipe down immediately after a round, no matter how mind rattling good and tiring it was.
Barry could relate a little. He didn't like being sticky either. But he hated the irrational panic he would feel at the thought of rejection. Every time Len pulled away for any reason just made his throat tighten up.
It had been a relief when they had talked about it, like the calm and awkwardly stunted adults they were.
Now Len had his space when he needed it and Barry had that little reassurance that everything was okay.
In the morning, Len would wake up first to turn on the coffee maker and make himself a cup of hot cocoa and use up the last of their mini marshmallows. He would have the skillet laid out and ready for Barry to cook breakfast and take in the quiet for a while before Barry's third alarm went off.
Len used to dislike eating breakfast. He didn't like the activity of cooking so early. It brought back memories he preferred not to remember but that were never far off.
Barry didn't like eating alone or having to make his own coffee. "It never tastes right," he would say. When asked which one he meant, he'd laugh.
They filled in for each others' differences.
(Getting back into moodboards, here's a warm up. Might continue it!)