[Tommy hasn't been with a woman in a while, since before they came on the tour, but he's never been the type to be over-eager enough to skip past the good parts. He likes the build, the exploration of enjoyable things, and the weed has coated his nerves enough to make all of this possible despite the general biological imperative. The night feels like hazy miles of milky skin, tangled limbs, and Eddie's voice. By the time she crawls over his lap and his hands swallow her hips, Tommy's coherence is lost in the feeling of her and the rhythm they chase to the breaking point.
When the leading edge of a too-bright sunrise through the window pulls him from a dreamless sleep to announce that last night's storm - and the night itself - has passed on, Tommy greets it with pleasantly soft-edged memories of more drugs and ordering room-service that had been forgotten because he'd declared Eddie his own personal take-out spot before putting his face between her legs. He hadn't intended to stay the night; doesn't remember falling asleep, anyway, only laying with the sweat-sweet press of Eddie tangled up with him, unsure of beginnings and endings, murmuring back and forth Very Deep Theological Thoughts on Music, but when his eyes open it's morning and here he is - there she is, her hair a crazy tumble of dark curls across her pillow, cheeks slightly pink, and the single double-sized sheet doing a poor job of keeping them both decent.
It's too early to be awake but habit's a bitch. Tommy thinks about scooting closer, pulling Eddie against him, but doesn't. He hasn't had a morning-after since before enlisting and maybe this was just... a good night. A thing that's over now that the sun is shining on it. So instead he moves just enough to touch his nose to the warm skin of her shoulder and closes his eyes again.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2025-05-27 02:09 pm (UTC)When the leading edge of a too-bright sunrise through the window pulls him from a dreamless sleep to announce that last night's storm - and the night itself - has passed on, Tommy greets it with pleasantly soft-edged memories of more drugs and ordering room-service that had been forgotten because he'd declared Eddie his own personal take-out spot before putting his face between her legs. He hadn't intended to stay the night; doesn't remember falling asleep, anyway, only laying with the sweat-sweet press of Eddie tangled up with him, unsure of beginnings and endings, murmuring back and forth Very Deep Theological Thoughts on Music, but when his eyes open it's morning and here he is - there she is, her hair a crazy tumble of dark curls across her pillow, cheeks slightly pink, and the single double-sized sheet doing a poor job of keeping them both decent.
It's too early to be awake but habit's a bitch. Tommy thinks about scooting closer, pulling Eddie against him, but doesn't. He hasn't had a morning-after since before enlisting and maybe this was just... a good night. A thing that's over now that the sun is shining on it. So instead he moves just enough to touch his nose to the warm skin of her shoulder and closes his eyes again.]