Five Minutes' Peace
Title: Five Minutes' Peace
Author: plumoneoneseven
Rating: PG
Prompt: The Photo
Summary: That damned photo needed explaining somehow, and blaming Martha has sort've become a habit.
Warnings: Only edited by me. Probably only of interest to one other person, and that's if I'm lucky.
Disclaimer: Definitely not mine. I should be so lucky. Hmph.
Notes: This is in no way how it happened. At all. Apart from anything else I was hoping it'd end up more shippy that this, but it went where it went. *shrugs* Title stolen ruthlessly from a Jill Murphy book about an elephant who wants a bath. Sometimes even I have no idea how my brain links stuff up. I would love to lay the blame for this squarely with niblick_iii but it's really all those boys' faults. Damn them for being so adorable.
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Somehow they'd managed to grab ten minutes of peace in the middle of the exhausting day. Well, actually, it was almost at an end. They only had two more things to get done, but in recording time that could mean anywhere between two hours and two days, and the director had told everyone to bugger off for a bit until they'd got the lighting sorted, so of course they'd all scattered in separate directions, hoping to catch slightly more than their allotted break time.
Jim swayed as he walked, on the verge of collapse, and between them, Larry and Martha managed to keep him just about upright and steered him in the direction of the catering portacabin in search of tea and comfy chairs. The tea was non-negotiable, but comfy is relative after two weeks of 5 am starts, and they were willing to compromise.
Larry eased himself into a booth and helped Martha pour Jim into it after him before he realised that he was now trapped. He looked sheepishly back up at Martha and shrugged. The movement made Jim lose his grip on the vertical and he slid sideways, face planted firmly into Larry's shoulder.
"I think I'm dying." Jim said, voice muffled by Larry's coat. "Is there any chance of caffeine?"
Martha glared at Larry by way of an answer and stomped off, rolling her eyes as she went.
Larry poked Jim's shoulder, and getting no response tugged lightly on the nearest of his curls. Jim's answer was to try and burrow deeper into Larry's shoulder and an awkward complaining sort of noise somewhere between a growl and a whine. Larry snuffed a little breath of laughter before he realised that he shouldn't be encouraging Jim.
"No. Up. Martha's fetching tea and if you don't get up I'll steal yours. And then there'll be no caffeine for you at all."
Jim made another complaining noise that ended as a sigh, and managed to lever himself slightly more upright. He blinked sleepily and yawned.
"Five am Larry. Five Ay-Em." He frowned, petulance written large across his face.
"Yes Jim. If you'll recall, I was there too. At five am. This morning and yesterday, and all of last week as well." He waved a hand vaguely. "We're off next week though, so you can stop whinging at any time." Larry huffed and swiped at the hair that was getting in his way. Damned wigs. Stupid historical hairstyles. History clearly had no idea how inconvenient some of its trends and fashions were going to be in retrospect.
Jim, for no readily apparent reason, poked him in the ear and then slung his arm across Larry's shoulder and tipped slowly forward until his forehead rested against the ear in question. Larry peered down with a quizzical eyebrow raised, peripheral vision making his eyes water, but no other movement was forthcoming from Jim except the huffing of his breath against Larry's collarbone.
Larry mentally shrugged, since actual shrugging would likely dislodge Jim, tugged his phone out of his jacket pocket and tried to ignore that Jim's arm made the scratchy wool fabric rub the back of his neck. He thumbed through his text messages., Nothing especially interesting. Tapped across to the Twitter app and tried to get it to update. Urgh. Technology. Useless. Sighing, he dropped his phone onto the table in disgust and closed his eyes, yawning.
"Don't."
Jim's voice was soft and ragged against his throat as he shifted, and then Jim yawned back.
"'S catching. Stupid yawns."
Larry huffed a laugh but didn't reply and Jim settled back down against him.
In retrospect it was probably a spectacularly bad idea to collapse into a heap of tiredness when they knew Martha was going to be back at any moment, but they couldn't bring themselves to care too much, partly because of the exhaustion, partly because they were incredibly comfy for the first time in nearly a week, but mostly because neither of them gave a crap about what anyone would think of the sight of the two of them sleeping on one another. It wasn't like it was the first time it'd happened, and it probably wouldn't be the last.
They heard the clunk-slosh of tea mugs being plonked down onto the table and the huff of Martha's soft laugh, but ignored both. Being comfortable took precedence over teasing and re-caffeination.
"Smile!"
Both boys did, Larry's awful wig brushing across Jim's lips, and they heard the click and whirr of the camera on Martha's phone.
Jim yawned, and after spitting out strands of fake hair he stretched, opened his eyes and reached for a mug.
"You're brilliant."
Larry followed suit, yawning and stretching, trying to shake off the tiredness, and attempted to push himself upright. Still lopsided, he reached for a mug.
"Cheers." He lifted the mug in a salute to Martha and took a sip. A happy whine escaped his throat. "Perfick." He sniffed and took another sip, careful not to burn his tongue. "You'd best send that to me."
Martha grinned at the two of them and nodded.
"'Course. ...You were just so adorable. I couldn't not."
Jim waved a hand vaguely. "No worries. Send it to me as well, yeah?"
Martha nodded again. The three drank their tea in comfortable silence, punctuated by the slurping of tea and the occasional yawn.
Larry shifted again, and again failed to pull himself upright.
"Jim?"
"Hmm?"
"You're sitting on my coat."
Author: plumoneoneseven
Rating: PG
Prompt: The Photo
Summary: That damned photo needed explaining somehow, and blaming Martha has sort've become a habit.
Warnings: Only edited by me. Probably only of interest to one other person, and that's if I'm lucky.
Disclaimer: Definitely not mine. I should be so lucky. Hmph.
Notes: This is in no way how it happened. At all. Apart from anything else I was hoping it'd end up more shippy that this, but it went where it went. *shrugs* Title stolen ruthlessly from a Jill Murphy book about an elephant who wants a bath. Sometimes even I have no idea how my brain links stuff up. I would love to lay the blame for this squarely with niblick_iii but it's really all those boys' faults. Damn them for being so adorable.
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Somehow they'd managed to grab ten minutes of peace in the middle of the exhausting day. Well, actually, it was almost at an end. They only had two more things to get done, but in recording time that could mean anywhere between two hours and two days, and the director had told everyone to bugger off for a bit until they'd got the lighting sorted, so of course they'd all scattered in separate directions, hoping to catch slightly more than their allotted break time.
Jim swayed as he walked, on the verge of collapse, and between them, Larry and Martha managed to keep him just about upright and steered him in the direction of the catering portacabin in search of tea and comfy chairs. The tea was non-negotiable, but comfy is relative after two weeks of 5 am starts, and they were willing to compromise.
Larry eased himself into a booth and helped Martha pour Jim into it after him before he realised that he was now trapped. He looked sheepishly back up at Martha and shrugged. The movement made Jim lose his grip on the vertical and he slid sideways, face planted firmly into Larry's shoulder.
"I think I'm dying." Jim said, voice muffled by Larry's coat. "Is there any chance of caffeine?"
Martha glared at Larry by way of an answer and stomped off, rolling her eyes as she went.
Larry poked Jim's shoulder, and getting no response tugged lightly on the nearest of his curls. Jim's answer was to try and burrow deeper into Larry's shoulder and an awkward complaining sort of noise somewhere between a growl and a whine. Larry snuffed a little breath of laughter before he realised that he shouldn't be encouraging Jim.
"No. Up. Martha's fetching tea and if you don't get up I'll steal yours. And then there'll be no caffeine for you at all."
Jim made another complaining noise that ended as a sigh, and managed to lever himself slightly more upright. He blinked sleepily and yawned.
"Five am Larry. Five Ay-Em." He frowned, petulance written large across his face.
"Yes Jim. If you'll recall, I was there too. At five am. This morning and yesterday, and all of last week as well." He waved a hand vaguely. "We're off next week though, so you can stop whinging at any time." Larry huffed and swiped at the hair that was getting in his way. Damned wigs. Stupid historical hairstyles. History clearly had no idea how inconvenient some of its trends and fashions were going to be in retrospect.
Jim, for no readily apparent reason, poked him in the ear and then slung his arm across Larry's shoulder and tipped slowly forward until his forehead rested against the ear in question. Larry peered down with a quizzical eyebrow raised, peripheral vision making his eyes water, but no other movement was forthcoming from Jim except the huffing of his breath against Larry's collarbone.
Larry mentally shrugged, since actual shrugging would likely dislodge Jim, tugged his phone out of his jacket pocket and tried to ignore that Jim's arm made the scratchy wool fabric rub the back of his neck. He thumbed through his text messages., Nothing especially interesting. Tapped across to the Twitter app and tried to get it to update. Urgh. Technology. Useless. Sighing, he dropped his phone onto the table in disgust and closed his eyes, yawning.
"Don't."
Jim's voice was soft and ragged against his throat as he shifted, and then Jim yawned back.
"'S catching. Stupid yawns."
Larry huffed a laugh but didn't reply and Jim settled back down against him.
In retrospect it was probably a spectacularly bad idea to collapse into a heap of tiredness when they knew Martha was going to be back at any moment, but they couldn't bring themselves to care too much, partly because of the exhaustion, partly because they were incredibly comfy for the first time in nearly a week, but mostly because neither of them gave a crap about what anyone would think of the sight of the two of them sleeping on one another. It wasn't like it was the first time it'd happened, and it probably wouldn't be the last.
They heard the clunk-slosh of tea mugs being plonked down onto the table and the huff of Martha's soft laugh, but ignored both. Being comfortable took precedence over teasing and re-caffeination.
"Smile!"
Both boys did, Larry's awful wig brushing across Jim's lips, and they heard the click and whirr of the camera on Martha's phone.
Jim yawned, and after spitting out strands of fake hair he stretched, opened his eyes and reached for a mug.
"You're brilliant."
Larry followed suit, yawning and stretching, trying to shake off the tiredness, and attempted to push himself upright. Still lopsided, he reached for a mug.
"Cheers." He lifted the mug in a salute to Martha and took a sip. A happy whine escaped his throat. "Perfick." He sniffed and took another sip, careful not to burn his tongue. "You'd best send that to me."
Martha grinned at the two of them and nodded.
"'Course. ...You were just so adorable. I couldn't not."
Jim waved a hand vaguely. "No worries. Send it to me as well, yeah?"
Martha nodded again. The three drank their tea in comfortable silence, punctuated by the slurping of tea and the occasional yawn.
Larry shifted again, and again failed to pull himself upright.
"Jim?"
"Hmm?"
"You're sitting on my coat."