The sob woke him like a knife in his heart, snapping him out of a deep sleep and into full consciousness before he was even aware of what was going on. It took him a moment to adjust from the landscapes of his dreams, which were even now fading into wisps, to his much more prosaic sleeping chambers.
And, more importantly, to Teomitl on the mat next to him, curled around his arm like a child and letting out another of those heartwrenching little noises. Oh, no.
It took some awkward twisting—his lover was plainly not letting go, and his back was soundly protesting their earlier activities in a way that made him wonder whether he should get a new sleeping mat—but eventually Acatl was able to get his free hand on Teomitl’s shoulder and murmur, “Love, wake up.”
The reaction was instantaneous; Teomitl jerked backwards away from his touch, kicking Acatl in the shins on the way, and stared wide-eyed and unseeing at him for an uncomfortably long moment until some awareness filtered into his gaze. “Oh,” he croaked out. There was a horrible hitching sound in his voice.
Acatl pulled him into his arms, finding him stiff and trembling. Oh, my heart. He started rubbing Teomitl’s back and sure enough, that helped; his lover started to relax by degrees, his breathing going from shallow pants to something approaching normalcy. When he judged Teomitl might be able to answer him, he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” Teomitl muttered into his neck. His eyes were wet where the lashes brushed against his skin.
He sighed and slid one hand up into Teomitl’s hair, scratching his scalp lightly, while the other continued its gentle mapping of smooth skin and hard muscles. So strong. So stubborn. “Alright,” he murmured. “Get some sleep. I won’t go anywhere.” He paused. “Unless you’d like some water?”
Teomitl huffed out a breath and pressed himself tighter against him, a leg over his hip preventing him from moving. “Don’t leave,” he muttered in a voice so small it yanked at Acatl’s heartstrings.
As if there was a chance of Acatl leaving his lover alone when his brave, beautiful warrior sounded like that. He hummed softly, kissing Teomitl’s forehead. “I’ll be right here.”
Hopefully, Teomitl would feel better in the morning.
Obsidian & Blood, Acatl/Teomitl
The sob woke him like a knife in his heart, snapping him out of a deep sleep and into full consciousness before he was even aware of what was going on. It took him a moment to adjust from the landscapes of his dreams, which were even now fading into wisps, to his much more prosaic sleeping chambers.
And, more importantly, to Teomitl on the mat next to him, curled around his arm like a child and letting out another of those heartwrenching little noises. Oh, no.
It took some awkward twisting—his lover was plainly not letting go, and his back was soundly protesting their earlier activities in a way that made him wonder whether he should get a new sleeping mat—but eventually Acatl was able to get his free hand on Teomitl’s shoulder and murmur, “Love, wake up.”
The reaction was instantaneous; Teomitl jerked backwards away from his touch, kicking Acatl in the shins on the way, and stared wide-eyed and unseeing at him for an uncomfortably long moment until some awareness filtered into his gaze. “Oh,” he croaked out. There was a horrible hitching sound in his voice.
Acatl pulled him into his arms, finding him stiff and trembling. Oh, my heart. He started rubbing Teomitl’s back and sure enough, that helped; his lover started to relax by degrees, his breathing going from shallow pants to something approaching normalcy. When he judged Teomitl might be able to answer him, he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” Teomitl muttered into his neck. His eyes were wet where the lashes brushed against his skin.
He sighed and slid one hand up into Teomitl’s hair, scratching his scalp lightly, while the other continued its gentle mapping of smooth skin and hard muscles. So strong. So stubborn. “Alright,” he murmured. “Get some sleep. I won’t go anywhere.” He paused. “Unless you’d like some water?”
Teomitl huffed out a breath and pressed himself tighter against him, a leg over his hip preventing him from moving. “Don’t leave,” he muttered in a voice so small it yanked at Acatl’s heartstrings.
As if there was a chance of Acatl leaving his lover alone when his brave, beautiful warrior sounded like that. He hummed softly, kissing Teomitl’s forehead. “I’ll be right here.”
Hopefully, Teomitl would feel better in the morning.