isaysimplewords | OOM: Reality can only be ignored for so long.

Sam, however, is the first to wake: he's always been an incredibly light sleeper, and some things are on the noticeable side.

Like having just turned back into a man, for instance.

...This one is going to end well, isn't it?

Cal is a much heavier sleeper, but things like the person you're in bed with completely changing shape tend to get the mind's attention and pull you out of sleep.

Still, though, for the first several seconds he's awake only in the sense that his eyes are open, so at first he just looks sleepy and confused. Wasn't there a woman there when he went to sleep?

Then his brain starts to wake up, and comprehension clicks into place.

Oh.

Okay.

. . . he can just go back to sleep, right?

Well, Sam isn't going to complain if he does. He's not still pleasantly sleepy any more, but he could be. He gives Cal a small, slightly tentative smile, leaning his head back against Cal's shoulder.

"Morning."

He is going to be normal about this. He is. He knew Sam wasn't going to stay female forever, after all.

This isn't really the timing how would have liked for Sam's changing back, but - this is how it's happened. So, okay. It's Sam. It's fine. Cal is going to be an adult about this.

He's suddenly wide awake.

"Hey."

Sam twists his head to peer at the window. "Is it morning, d'you think?"

"I - usually wake up at the same time every day." The morning running got his sleep cycle into shape along with his body. Even though it's not so much morning now as it is just daily, and probably won't be until the weather warms up back up, he still wakes fairly early. And often goes right back to sleep.

It's not quite light outside yet, though. They fell asleep a bit earlier than Cal usually does.

"Me too. Late."

Sam looks back at Cal. "I think it's still dark out there? Mostly, anyway."

Not that Milliways' windows are necessarily synched to the right time or anything.

"Mm. Should sleep more, then."

Sleeping is good.

Cal closes his eyes.

"Mmm," Sam agrees, leaning his head against Cal's body again with a soft, comfortable sound. "Don't want me to clear off?"

"No," Cal says immediately. The correct answer to that question is pretty obvious, after all. And it's true, mostly.

(Besides, if they're going to be asleep, he won't even know Sam's there.)

He turns himself to face Sam, trying not to dislodge him. And if doing so puts a little bit of space between them, well, these things happen, right?

"Okay." Sam isn't going to argue (You knew this could happen), though it doesn't take a genius to notice that Cal's not completely comfortable (So did I). He just curls up into the gap.

Going to be decent about this, going to be adult. It's Sam.

Cal's eyes are still closed. He very carefully and deliberately places an arm over Sam. They'll go back to sleep, and he'll be able to think more clearly when he wakes up again. No being stupid.

His heart is beating just a little too fast for someone who's supposed to be falling asleep.

Sam is not really fooled, even if he does appreciate the gesture. Unfortunately, this doesn't really help with knowing what the hell he's supposed to do.

(His own hands, for the record, are being kept very firmly to himself: they're tucked against his body.)

"Fucking Milliways," he murmurs.

(And it might have helped, a little, if Cal wasn't so aware of their nakedness, together so close under the covers.)

He laughs a little, only the slightest trace of strain evident in his voice. You'd have to be expecting it in order to hear it.

"Can't blame Milliways this time," he points out lightly.

And Sam, of course, is expecting it.

(He's aware of it too, awkward and exposed in a way that has little to do with being naked and much more to do with Cal's reaction to it.)

He snorts softly. "Like this'd happen to either of us anywhere else."

"Hey, I don't know what kind of world you live in," Cal says. "Could happen all the time there."

Maybe talking is better than sleeping, silly meaningless banter that nonetheless gives him something else to think about. His eyes stay closed, though.

"Nah. My world's pretty normal, unless you know otherwise. Most people don't know about my family. About the magic."

(About Time's palace in Heaven, the green of Eden, the dragons in the sky. Frost demons fighting sand demons in Hell, over and over, ceaseless, undying even as they die.)

He shifts slightly under Cal's arm, into a more comfortable position.

"Kinda sounds like a lot of worlds are like that. Still don't think my world has any of that stuff, though."

Sam's movement distracts him, too much for him to linger on trying to figure out tenses or accurate possessives (his world had? is it even his to claim? is home better, even if he doesn't live there anymore?), and he carefully moves his arm a little to match. The tendons creak as though he's been holding them still for quite some time.

A slight shrug, a little more awkward than you might expect.

"Maybe. Maybe not. You've got the singing, though."

"I'm starting to think we're the only ones," Cal says. That he won't find another world with singing. That learning to do without isn't just something he has to do in Milliways.

His arm shifts again, a little, when Sam shrugs. It's almost just fidgeting.

"Perhaps. Haven't seen anyone else with that, so far, but you never know."

He'd kiss Cal's cheek, but he can't. Not right now.

"Never know who'll turn up in the future, either."

"Maybe. Not gonna hold my breath. It's not the most important thing, anyway."

He's a bit cold, and wants to tug the blanket up closer and more securely (the childhood urge to hide under the covers never does disappear entirely, does it?), but he'd rather not move at the moment.

"Wouldn't recommend holding your breath, no," Sam agrees. "But I wouldn't go giving up hope, either."

He does shrug at that, a small twitch of his shoulder that scarcely counts as movement.

"I'll get used to it."

"I expect you will. But don't give up hope, still." Sam thinks to stroke Cal's hair, but -- no. Bad idea.

He shifts again, a little further away this time (I should just go, shouldn't I?): he's a little too curled-up for even his comfort, and it lets him stretch out a little more without touching Cal.

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