Author: clintbbarton

1980salienboi:

When they’d first started sharing beds, it had to be a very careful thing. Forever cognizant of what parts of their bodies lay against each other, and carefully crafting pockets of space between the rest. The closeness hadn’t come until later, only a little while before they graduated. Nightmares were common, and they were both used to startling awake in bed before each getting their bearings and coaxing each other back into resting until the sun rose.

Nightmares aren’t as common for them anymore, but they still exist, and so Neil isn’t terribly shocked when he’s ripped from sleep by the feeling of Andrew shooting away from him in bed.

The startling thing is the broken sound that escapes him as he tears his way into wakefulness.

“Please!”

It’s hoarse and ragged and terrified, like someone had forcibly pulled the word out of him. He’d jerked hard enough to put inches of space between them, and Neil lays still and watches as he comes back to himself, his own breath caught in his throat.

“Neil.” Andrew’s voice is still wrong, still desperate and frightened and angry, too much the way he sounded all those years ago in that hotel room in Baltimore. He turns to Neil and scrabbles amongst the sheets, looking for him. “Neil.”

“Andrew,” Neil says, sliding a hand forward against the sheets so he could hear and seek it out if he wanted. “I’m here.”

“Neil-” He grabs Neil’s hand and starts following the line of his arm and then freezes. Neil can hear him swallow. “Can I-”

“Yes,” Neil says. “Always yes, Andrew.”

He doesn’t argue with that the way he always does. Instead he stays silent as he searches iver Neil’s scarred skin, almost desperately, as if making sure he’s in one piece. His fingers flit over his body, up his neck until they’re cupping his face.

He can feel Andrew’s breath on his face, too fast, and see the reflection of light in his eyes from the open blinds. He reaches up, slowly, and lays his hands against the backs of Andrew’s, holding them to his face. Andrew pushes their foreheads together and takes a gulping breath.

Neil keeps his breathing even, keeps his eyes on Andrew. He doesn’t know what Andrew was dreaming of, doesn’t think it was the usual things because this isn’t the usual reaction.

“I’m here,” he repeats, trying to help Andrew any way he can. “I’m right here. Do you want me to keep talking?”

Silence. And then a whispered, “Yes.”

Neil talks. Sir did something funny today, and did Kevin send you that link as well, and it was pretty chilly today, and I think we should switch to almond milk just to give it a try-

A while later, after both their breathing is calmer, andrew hums. Neil goes quiet, waiting for him to speak. When he does, it makes his stomach churn.

“They got you. In my dream. They had you.”

A little part of Neil wants to ask who, but the smarter part of him (thankfully becoming more dominant these days), couldn’t care less. He settles for laying his scarred fingers against Andrew’s stubbly cheek, listens to the sigh that touch elicits. “It’s just you and me here. This is our space, and it’s only you and me and the cats.”

“You and me,” Andrew repeats. His hand travels to rest against Neil’s neck, the butt of his palm resting over his pulse point.

“And the cats,” Neil says, and holds back a smile when Andrew shoots him a flat look. He closes his eyes and smooths his thumb back and forth over the swell of Andrew’s cheekbone. “You can come closer if you want.”

Andrew doesn’t ask again to make sure, which is another sign to Neil that Andrew needs to touch him. As they get older and Andrew grows farther from the traumas of his childhood and late adolescence, it’s easier for him to reach out just for the sake of it. Neil has realized that Andrew is actually very affectionate. This is different, though. This is Andrew needing the touch, needing to feel Neil’s skin on his own, and it hits Neil hard: this is Andrew seeking physical comfort from him.

They end up with Neil half beneath Andrew, their legs intertwined. Andrew’s head is ducked down on Neil’s bumpy chest, his arms snug around Neil’s middle. Neil raises his arms slightly, unsure, but Andrew mumbles a “yes” into his skin so Neil settles them loosely around his shoulders.

It’s very warm, and very comfortable. Neil can feel Andrew’s heartbeat and is sure that Andrew’s listening to his own. “Do you think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?” he asks, willing his eyes to stay open even as he feels himself melt into the mattress.

“No,” Andrew says. His voice has calmed, almost back to normal. “You can. I’m okay like this.”

“Are you sure?” Neil asks, even as his eyes close.

“Yes, Neil. Go back to sleep.” He presses a light kiss into Neil’s skin and lays his head back down.

It’s the last thing Neil feels before he falls back asleep. When he wakes up to the sunlight reaching in through the window, they’re still in the same position, and Andrew is snoring lightly against his neck.