holyposition | IC Inbox

[Reality intrudes, relief flooding every muscle and tendon. Harry finds himself squished against Tim in what he assumes must be an uncomfortable way. His hands have moved seemingly without his conscious direction, allowing Tim free movement. He hides his face in the crook of Tim's neck, just trying to exist in this perfect loving moment.

And to catch his breath.

Eventually he stirs and moves, pulling out and away just to flop onto his back beside Tim. Harry stares at the ceiling. It looks the same as ever, indifferent to what has clearly been a life altering event.

He turns his head to look at Tim. Harry lifts a hand to cup his smooth cheek.]

You are one of God's most precious creations, Mr. Laughlin.

[ It’s not uncomfortable at all, it’s perfect, stuck between a warm body and a soft mattress, boxed in safely on either side. They can calm themselves from that blissful high together, breath slowing in unison as Tim strokes the back of his head, realizing that he quite likes the way his curls feel in his hand. He doesn’t have to say anything but the occasional long, relaxed sigh, as he feels the post-orgasm tiredness creep up on him.

He whines a little when the other man pulls out and away from him, and follows him the short distance like a magnet, tucking his head against Harry’s shoulder and throwing an arm around him, tracing lazy patterns against his sweat-damp chest hair. ]

Not so bad yourself, Mister Goodsir.

[ With a teasing grin, looking truly ridiculous smiling so wide while he’s wiping the streaks from his eyes, but so fully in the moment still that he doesn’t care. Tim pulls the covers back up, as the sweat on their bodies begins to cool, holding onto it for longer. ]

That was really special for me. [ Quiet, but painfully earnest, wide eyes a world of fondness. ] I feel good about this.

[ It’s not the first time he’s said that here in Saltburnt. But it may be the first time he’s done so without an asterisk. ]

[That little whine ensures that Harry is going to keep Tim cuddled tight - how could he deny him when he sounds so sad?

He snorts laughter and turns enough to kiss Tim's forehead, content then to just lay there while Tim gets them cocooned in the blankets. The second he is settled Harry takes him in his arms. He listens, attention entirely on Tim in spite of feeling warm and sleepy.]

That was the most intimate series of events in my life, Tim. [He's really not capable of lying about it.] I've yet to accept that it really happened.

[He strokes Tim's hair back from his face, his gaze faintly awed. His admission is soft, awkward in its quiet enthusiasm.]

I feel good about you.

[ He may have met his match, as earnestness goes. It’s a more raw and vulnerable admission than any Tim has ever made, and he feels the weight of it immediately. It’s a responsibility not to do anything to hurt this loving, sensitive man, and it’s a real hope, that this could be something real. Looking into his eyes, he just knows. Harry won’t cast him aside when he becomes inconvenient (as he will, as he always does) or waffle in his affections. He strikes true, and Tim believes every word. ]

The mess will prove it the second we get up. [ With a little giggle, already feeling it, the stickiness on the backs of his thighs. He can ignore it for a while longer. ] Let’s not, though. I could fall asleep right here.

[ Letting his eyes flutter closed against Harry’s collarbone, as if to prove it. ]

[Harry laughs softly and goes faintly pink.]

I am sorry, I should have asked... I'm afraid that when my crisis is upon me I am not really thinking of consequences.

[But he's not moving, content to be exactly where he is. His own eyelids feel incredibly heavy, so he allows them to fall shut. Just to rest his eyes, of course. He's not sleeping.

Which of course means he falls into a doze almost immediately. It's been a long time since he's slept beside anyone, and his slumber is thankfully dreamless.]

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