OOM: Reality can only be ignored for so long.

[isaysimplewords]

Cal had not expected for Sam to still be female the next time he saw him. Her. Whichever. But Sam was, and clearly such situations must be taken thorough advantage of.

Sam agreed wholeheartedly with this sentiment, which is why they are now tangled up asleep together in Cal's bed, and have been for the last several hours after spending an enjoyable afternoon exhausting themselves.

Cal is still asleep, though he's not likely to be for much longer.

Comments

[isaysimplewords]

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.

[necessary_child]

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.

[isaysimplewords]

(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.

[necessary_child]

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."

[isaysimplewords]

"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.

[necessary_child]

"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.

[isaysimplewords]

"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.

[necessary_child]

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

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

[isaysimplewords]

"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.

[necessary_child]

"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."

[isaysimplewords]

"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.

[necessary_child]

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

[isaysimplewords]

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

"I'll get used to it."

[necessary_child]

"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.

[isaysimplewords]

Cal sighs a little, some of the tension easing out as Sam shifts away. Not all, but some. Guiltily, he tries to push the rest of it out, concentrating on relaxing his muscles.

(If he were just wearing something, even just pajama bottoms. Something.)

"I'm still kind of learning how to have hope to give up in the first place," he says. He's not entirely serious (just mostly), and he tries to keep his voice light to get that across. But of course, the second he starts thinking about his tone of voice, some of the tension seeps back in, and he tugs the blanket (can move now, without Sam quite so close) up higher.

[necessary_child]

"Poor old Motor Mouth."

There's been a tiny frown marked between Sam's black brows since he opened his eyes; it's showing no signs of going away any time soon.

[isaysimplewords]

Cal's eyes are still closed, even though the idea of going back to sleep has been abandoned. It's (safer) easier to keep them closed.

"I'll be okay," he says. "Long as I find someplace where hope isn't a stupid idea."

[necessary_child]

"Thought you'd already found one."

But then, he'd thought a lot of things.

A pause, and Sam pushes himself out from under the covers, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Think I'd better scoot," he remarks, just a hair too lightly. "Hey, can I borrow a shirt? I don't exactly have any clothes with me that fit."

[isaysimplewords]

Shit. Cal curses himself (mostly) silently. He knows how well Sam can read him, even in the near-dark, and he still can't just clamp down and suck it up.

"You don't have to go," he says quickly, hands tightening in the fabric of the covers. "I mean, if you want to, but - I'm sorry. I, I know I'm being stupid. I'm trying not to be."

Even if it is a losing fucking battle. Same as it's always been.

[necessary_child]

"I know," Sam says, twisting his body to look at Cal, and this time he does reach out to briefly touch Cal's hair. "It's all right. I was an idiot to go upstairs with you when I knew this could happen."

One of these days, he might even learn.

[isaysimplewords]

He doesn't lean into the touch like he usually does, but he doesn't flinch even slightly either, and that counts for something, right?

"It's not your fault," he protests. "I wasn't thinking. I knew it wouldn't last, but I - I . . ." He trails off helplessly, unable to put it into words. (This should be a song, he needs a song here, how is he supposed to say anything important without music?)

"I'm sorry," he says instead, weakly.

[necessary_child]

"Yeah, I know," Sam says again, taking his hand away. "It's all right."

Cal keeps doing this. Sam's aware he should be ... oh, hurt? Angry? (Don't start something if you can't handle the ending) but then Cal is Cal, and he's not. He can't be. Just sorry.

[isaysimplewords]

Cal shakes his head, looking down at the blanket. "No, it's not." The way he acts with Sam about this - it's not all right. Not with anyone, but especially not with Sam. (Why couldn't Sam have changed back somewhere else? It would be fine if it had just happened somewhere else.)

"I'm not - it's not fair. To you. There's no reason. No good reason. I'm just being stupid."

Why can't he find better words? (Does he even want to?) Even without music, he can still talk.

[necessary_child]

Sam runs a hand through his hair helplessly. "Oh, Cal."

Cal left his shirt on the floor, before: noticing it, Sam leaves the bed to pluck it up and put it on (it's far too big, of course, but at least it covers more) before sitting back on the edge of the bed again.

"Better?"

[isaysimplewords]

". . . yes," Cal admits, flushing with embarrassment at his own ridiculousness.

Even better would be if he was wearing something himself, but he's at least got the blankets. Which, he realizes, are nearly up to his chin at this point. He frowns a bit and forces himself to lower them a few inches.

A couple inches.