I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror [ peter + adam ]

[superchameleon]

it must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

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[igodsend]

          Having no recollection of the last time he'd been so full and comfortable, Adam's eyes were already fighting to stay open at the sound of Peter's soothing voice. Despite the empath's somewhat endearing naivete, he was confident he'd come up with an excellent plan of attack... And if not, Adam could easily help steer him in the proper direction. With his prowess and Peter's powers, The Company wouldn't know what hit them.

          ❝ Yes, in fact, I have a feeling I may oversleep. But if not, I'll be careful not to wake you. ❞ 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. ❝ Thank you again, for getting me out of there. It was a gift I won't be forgetting. ❞

          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. ❝ How could you... You monster... You'll be the first... ❞

          When Peter woke up in the morning, he would find that he had somehow been promoted to the honorary position of Big Spoon™. 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.

[superchameleon]

It takes Peter a long time to get to sleep.

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?"

[igodsend]

          After the nightmare, which eventually transformed into a gore-filled revenge fantasy that Tarantino could have directed, Adam managed to drift off into a deep, peaceful slumber. It was unusual, being able to sleep so effortlessly beside someone he hadn't known very long. Someone who knew how to actually kill him, at that. Seemed his subconscious trusted Peter more than he would ever admit awake. After a hundred or so years, reading people had become second nature, so honestly, it wasn't too much of a surprise.

          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 him—he 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. ❝ Apologies if our current predicament is my fault. It appears platonic bed-sharing is a skill I must work on... ❞ With that, he turned onto his back, yet remained just as close as he continued, ❝ Unless you'd care to remain like this a little longer as we plan our day? ❞ With soft eyes, he observed Peter's reaction to his words and how he was absently caressing the top of his hand.