“Things you said at 1 am” for Flinthamilton, if you like? 😊💜

ceraunos:

this was going to be short and fluffy and not have any sex in it. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Send me more prompts from this list!

~

Cold feet tuck under James’ knees and he blinks into the darkness, feeling Thomas slip back into bed besides him. He hadn’t registered that he had left.

“Alright?”

“Mm,” Thomas replies tiredly. “Go back to sleep.”

Outside an animal cries at the moon and a chorus of night birds sing back. James tucks his head into Thomas’ shoulder and it feels faintly damp.

“It’s raining?”

“Only a little.”

“The first of autumn.”

“The last of summer. It’s warm, still.”

“You’re not. I’ve known corpses warmer than you.” It should feel painful, or perhaps sickening, to say that, except it doesn’t; morbid humour helps, in it’s own way, to lessen the reality of memory.

Thomas presses the back of his palm to James’ cheek and James shivers with the chill of it. Thomas smiles and laughs in a soft sleepy way.

“Perhaps you should heat me up.” It’s teasing and playful in all the ways they rarely are anymore and James’ heart yearns for it. He wraps his arms around Thomas, fingers feeling out the ridges of his spine and pressing in.

“Perhaps I should.” James catches Thomas’ lips between his, holding them in still suspense for just a moment, his body poised and intentions readable. Then he moves, a flicker of the former hunter in the precise, quick way he flips them over, pressing Thomas into the mattress, his own body curled around him, covering every point of contact possible. He leans in and kisses Thomas properly, this time.

“Better?”

“Much.”

Eventually Thomas’ hand creeps between them, wandering ticklishly down James’ chest and pulling open the strings of his breeches.

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows at James. “You had a vested interest in my comfort?”

“I spent ten years as a pirate. I can hardly start being selfless now.” James shrugs, biting at his lip to stop from grinning. Even in the dark James can see the flash of humour in Thomas’ eyes.

What starts as a laugh becomes a startled moan as Thomas runs a finger along the length of James’ hardening cock, nail catching on the skin at the tip. James shivers.

“Would you like me to do something about this?” Thomas doesn’t wait for a reply before wrapping his hand fully around James and starting to stroke lazily. James feels his breath catch, his hips cant forward, pushing him into Thomas’ touch as he drops his head onto Thomas’ shoulder.

“Please.”

They’re both too tired for much more than the what they already have, a sweat-slicked slide of thighs and slow and aching touches without relent. James comes with his half-gasp, Thomas’ hand around him and his lips against scarred flesh. James keeps his hips moving, a steady friction as he feels Thomas stiffen below him, the fabric of his nightshirt bunching up around his stomach. James reaches under it to brush a thumb over ever-sensitive nipples and Thomas comes untouched, pulling James’ down to press their foreheads together.

Cocooned in sheets, Thomas’ limbs sprawled around him, James stares at the ceiling and tries not to speak.

“I can hear you thinking. Go to sleep,” Thomas whispers, an elbow in James’ ribs. James kisses the top of his head. An owl hoots in the distance.

“It’s been a while since you’ve got up at night.”

“Ghosts of memories.” James doesn’t look convinced. Thomas cups his cheek, pulling away from to look him in the eye. “I’m fine. A bad dream, that’s all.”

James laces his hand in Thomas’. “It’s all over now.” Thomas nods, knowing he isn’t talking about the dream, and if James has to tell himself the same thing the next morning then that’s just how life is for them now and it’s alright; they’ve already lived through the worst and survived.

~

(btw i was going to write your other drabble today as well but i accidentally started that fic you sent instead so really it’s your own fault you’re not getting more content… 😂)