[ If he could read minds, he'd point out in an instant that crying wouldn't make him any less of a rock - especially after a dream like that. Hell, he might be a little offended if there weren't waterworks on his behalf.
Except.
Mace doesn't remember what the crying's for. Or, well, that's assuming he even had the same dream at all - could be totally unrelated, could be his own hellish nightmare. Could be that they're both just having the worst fucking dreams individually.
His hand slides gently away from the back of Mace's, and it's followed by a small shake of his head. Lowered eyes. ]
Yeah, you're better off, trust me.
[ Tonight at least. Wishes he shared the affliction. ]
Doesn't matter. Just a fucking nightmare.
[ Which isn't exactly a shock, considering their last two days.
Outside, grey pre-dawn light makes its way through the slits in the dresser slats they've nailed up. The door's still boarded shut, too.
He changes the subject, though his voice sounds tentative. ]
I guess it worked.
[ The boards. They're still in the same room and it's nearly sunrise. That at least brings a little relief. Enough that he drops Mace's wrist as well so he can slowly palm-scoot himself back down onto the mattress.
He's not a morning person. He's not a wake up quickly person. He's a twenty more minutes two snooze buttons, sleep in on the weekends and drag out the process person.
He likes the comfort of dreaminess at the cusp of waking up. He likes lazy intimacy, morning sex.
This wasn't exactly his ideal start to the day. He'd like to at least pretend, go through the motions of a slow rise - at least until he's really over it all. Melt into the mattress for a little bit. ]
no subject
Except.
Mace doesn't remember what the crying's for. Or, well, that's assuming he even had the same dream at all - could be totally unrelated, could be his own hellish nightmare. Could be that they're both just having the worst fucking dreams individually.
His hand slides gently away from the back of Mace's, and it's followed by a small shake of his head. Lowered eyes. ]
Yeah, you're better off, trust me.
[ Tonight at least. Wishes he shared the affliction. ]
Doesn't matter. Just a fucking nightmare.
[ Which isn't exactly a shock, considering their last two days.
Outside, grey pre-dawn light makes its way through the slits in the dresser slats they've nailed up. The door's still boarded shut, too.
He changes the subject, though his voice sounds tentative. ]
I guess it worked.
[ The boards. They're still in the same room and it's nearly sunrise. That at least brings a little relief. Enough that he drops Mace's wrist as well so he can slowly palm-scoot himself back down onto the mattress.
He's not a morning person. He's not a wake up quickly person. He's a twenty more minutes two snooze buttons, sleep in on the weekends and drag out the process person.
He likes the comfort of dreaminess at the cusp of waking up. He likes lazy intimacy, morning sex.
This wasn't exactly his ideal start to the day. He'd like to at least pretend, go through the motions of a slow rise - at least until he's really over it all. Melt into the mattress for a little bit. ]