Still, where did the lighter fluid come from? (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} emiime) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} emific,@ 2007-12-22 01:00:00 |
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Anchor (Irwin/Dakin, PG-13)
Title: Anchor
Pairing: Irwin/Dakin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 192
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Alan Bennett's.
Summary: Stuart Dakin needs something to hold on to.
Notes: An Advent Drabble for…well, for me, I suppose. And forcelandineb and kyasuurin and westernredcedar and for you, if you're a History Boys fan as well. Translation: I wasn't in the mood for Potter tonight. Don't worry—that's a rarity. :)
Stuart snorts awake in the dawnlight from a dream he can't quite remember. All he knows is in the dream everything was wrong. He's uneasy, adrift, and not even the reality of Tom, there in the sheets, no doubt dreaming himself, can stabilise him.
He can't go back to sleep, so he just looks at Tom for a while. He snakes out a hand and circles two fingers around one of Tom's thin wrists, something he would never do if he thought Tom might possibly be awake. But there's no change in breathing, no sudden suspiration, and Stuart tightens his fingers and thinks about how young Tom looks without his glasses, his forehead uncreased, his expression the bland blankness of sleep.
Stuart drifts, though of course he doesn't realise it, and soon he's waking again to the vague perception of arms encircling him from behind, a bare chest pressed to his back, steady breathing against his neck.
He smiles and goes back to sleep.
Title: Anchor
Pairing: Irwin/Dakin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 192
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Alan Bennett's.
Summary: Stuart Dakin needs something to hold on to.
Notes: An Advent Drabble for…well, for me, I suppose. And for
celandineb and kyasuurin and westernredcedar and for you, if you're a History Boys fan as well. Translation: I wasn't in the mood for Potter tonight. Don't worry—that's a rarity. :)Stuart snorts awake in the dawnlight from a dream he can't quite remember. All he knows is in the dream everything was wrong. He's uneasy, adrift, and not even the reality of Tom, there in the sheets, no doubt dreaming himself, can stabilise him.
He can't go back to sleep, so he just looks at Tom for a while. He snakes out a hand and circles two fingers around one of Tom's thin wrists, something he would never do if he thought Tom might possibly be awake. But there's no change in breathing, no sudden suspiration, and Stuart tightens his fingers and thinks about how young Tom looks without his glasses, his forehead uncreased, his expression the bland blankness of sleep.
Stuart drifts, though of course he doesn't realise it, and soon he's waking again to the vague perception of arms encircling him from behind, a bare chest pressed to his back, steady breathing against his neck.
He smiles and goes back to sleep.