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piscesnebula2024-03-13 01:35 pm
superchameleon) wrote in piscesnebula2024-03-13 01:35 pmEntry tags:
superchameleon) wrote in piscesnebula2024-03-13 01:35 pm
Sorry, been busy moving into my new house. Was more tiring than expected.
Giving Peter's arm a final pat, Adam laid back to look up at the ceiling as well, his fingers entwining to rest on his stomach. "All right. When an empath says they have a feeling, I suppose it's wise to listen. The question now is, what do you propose we do?" He knew what he wished to do to The Company, but suggesting outright gory revenge would make him appear too eager, of course. Not to mention, Peter probably wouldn't be on board with what he had in mind. At least, not yet, anyway.
Looking over, Adam gave a sleepy yet thankful grin. "And since you've granted me my freedom, it's the least I can do to help you gain peace of mind. My knowledge of The Company is yours to wield as you please, Peter... Command me as you desire," he finished in a whisper, his words innocent yet deliberately chosen.
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And that, Peter thinks, might actually be the first time anybody has listened to him when he has a feeling. He's so used to having his hunches be dismissed by Nathan, by his mom, that it's a strange feeling when Adam so easily extends his trust. The problem is, he doesn't immediately know what to do, because he's not exactly experienced in... whatever this is. Planning to take down a decades old company that has been torturing people with superpowers, and has designs on biological weapons.
Half caught up in furious thinking, Adam's whisper catches him by surprise. It's a good thing it's dark; that way nobody can see him flush, even if his cheeks feel embarrassingly hot. That whisper brings to mind all sorts of images that Peter struggles to suppress. Soft skin, and heated lips, and--
Great. He's just digging himself deeper into this hole, isn't he?
"Whatever the answer is, I'm not going to come up with it half-asleep and full of carbs," he reluctantly admits. Peter rolls on his side again, facing Adam, one arm stuffed under the pillow. Watching him in the sliver of moonlight coming in through the window. Maybe he'll dream the answer. "We'll come up with a plan tomorrow, after we've both had some decent sleep in an actual bed. Because I don't know about you, but I'm excited to wake up without a crick in my neck."
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β Yes, in fact, I have a feeling I may oversleep. But if not, I'll be careful not to wake you. β And he figured Peter would extend him the same courtesy of only awakening him if the house was on fire or some such. With that said, Adam stretched out to lay on his stomach, his head comfortable on the pillow, turned toward Peter to give a few final words of gratitude. β Thank you again, for getting me out of there. It was a gift I won't be forgetting. β
Over the centuries, Adam had taught himself incredible control over his body. Lie detectors didn't work on him, and neither did torture. Complete authority over his heartbeat and breathing were parlor tricks by now as well... But those things depended on him being awake. While asleep, the most he could manage was lucid dreaming, but even that eluded him sometimes as dark thoughts took the form of nightmares. And so, as admitted earlier, during the night, he mumbled softly in his sleep. So quietly, it might not have awakened Peter, but if it did, he would hear parts of sentences. β How could you... You monster... You'll be the first... β
When Peter woke up in the morning, he would find that he had somehow been promoted to the honorary position of Big Spoonβ’. It seemed that in Adam's unconscious search to get comfortable and warm during the night, he'd hit the jackpot, nestled up cozy against the empath.
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At first, it's because the thought holy shit the company are making biological weapons is looping on repeat. He spends a considerable amount of time in self-recrimination. He prides himself on being perceptive, but he'd sat in that cell for months, unaware of what was going on. Being lied to, and swallowing those lies for too long. Willingly playing captive for a group that never had his best intentions in mind. Then he starts thinking about what to do about the biological weapons and the lying and the potential link to the plan to let him blow up, and... look, nobody ever called him the best offensive strategist, so he mostly only manages to come up with a couple of plans of attack, each with their own drawback.
It's somewhere around pondering the details of Adam's history with them that he manages to fall asleep. He thinks his dreams are restless. Glimpses of a plague; of death, bodies thrown into burning pits. Glimpses of an eclipse, of an airplane packed with orange jumpsuits. A world where commuters fly down the streets and a dark-haired Claire hunts him.
It all evaporates into smoke when he wakes and he's warm and comfortable for the first time in months. It takes him a second to realize his arm is looped over Adam's waist, keeping them snugly together, and bare skin is pressed against bare skin, chest to back, thigh to thigh, buried in rumpled covers.
He should probably feel embarrassed. But it's not the first time he's woken up cuddling someone he isn't dating. Peter figures he probably grabbed Adam in the night -- that's just how he is when he sleeps. And why complain? Unless Adam's virtue is bothered, he's comfy.
"Morning," he murmurs, hoarse with sleep. He smooths a hand over Adam's side, and the action feels more intimate than he's earned. "You awake?"
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The real surprise, he would soon discover.
In the hazy state between wakefulness and dreamland, where the passing of time wasn't taken into consideration, the warmth of another's body against his wasn't an unusual occurrence, so no alarms were set off immediately. It had been six long years since Adam had shared such closeness with another. Having sorely missed the feeling, a hum bordering on a moan escaped his throat as an unknown hand ghosted along his side, pulling delicious chills along his skin.
The question finally managed to pull Adam into the waking world fully. In a split second, the realization of the situation dawned on himβhe was the little spoon! The plot twist had not been planned... but he found himself making no effort to correct the situation. It was more than pleasant, and Peter didn't seem to mind; quite the opposite, in fact. Interesting...
Adam's hand slid to pause on top of Peter's in a gesture of appreciation, and he looked to the side to answer. β Apologies if our current predicament is my fault. It appears platonic bed-sharing is a skill I must work on... β With that, he turned onto his back, yet remained just as close as he continued, β Unless you'd care to remain like this a little longer as we plan our day? β With soft eyes, he observed Peter's reaction to his words and how he was absently caressing the top of his hand.