TM Short Fic: Like a Hundred Times Before
Title: Like a Hundred Times Before
Characters/Pairing: Glitch/Cain
Rating: PG
Summary: Old habits are hard to break.
It wasn't until the bed dipped, when someone's weight returned, that Glitch was pulled from his blurry, exhausted sleep. He didn't bother to open his eyes, recognizing the soft, whispering sounds of strong, confident hands pulling tight on shoe laces. Like a hundred times before, he was left under the cooled sheets while his overnight guest got dressed and prepared to leave.
Most of the times this part of the ritual took place hours earlier; rarely had he found himself still in their company after dawn.
He never remembered what they looked like and knew there was no point in reminding himself by rolling over to find out. Instead, he simply stayed where he was, on his side facing away, listening to the sounds of knots slipping into place.
"Just leave the money on the table," he mumbled into his pillow, not really caring anymore if they heard him. It didn't matter if they paid him or not; it wasn't worth fighting to get a handful of plats for a few hours of his time.
This time the sound stilled, the silence lasting for a number of breaths. Until the bed shifted and the weight making it droop slid closer. When warm, rough fingers touched his temple and he felt the ever-present lock of hair being brushed aside, he squeezed his eyes closed tighter.
He hated this part, when they treated him like he mattered.
Wide, dry lips pressed against his skin that the fingers had just ghosted over. "What'd you just say?"
Glitch sighed through his nose, turning his face closer to the flat pillow. "Don't act like you didn't hear me."
"Sweetheart, it's me," the low voice held a note of concern and Glitch frowned.
A flood of images, memories, vivid and bright and so full of hope burned into his mind and Glitch's eyes flew open. He turned his head, recognition making him flush with humiliation, realizing his mistake. "Wyatt," he said simply, swallowing past the hard lump in his throat. "Sorry."
Cain's face hovered over him, eyes calculating and full of question. But Glitch could already tell there would be none asked; Cain was a cop, he knew the implications of Glitch's words better than most would. Instead, Cain leaned down and kissed him properly, a chaste meeting of lips. "Don't worry about it," he said, sitting up again but leaving his thumb to stroke Glitch's temple. "Sorry about leaving so early; I promised Jeb I'd meet him for breakfast downtown. You still up for checking out the cellar storage rooms this afternoon? I should be back in time to have lunch with you, too."
Glitch relaxed, rolling toward Cain and reaching up to slide his hand down Cain's forearm. "I can't wait," he grinned and it felt brittle. He knew better than to assume Cain would let Glitch's mistake go completely.
"I'll see you later, then," Cain returned his smile with one far more convincing. The bed shifted again and Glitch was alone, like a hundred times before.
Only this time, he knew there would be no money on the bedside table. This time, he had taken someone to bed because he wanted to. And he would do it again; hopefully, so often that he would lose count.
**
End.
Characters/Pairing: Glitch/Cain
Rating: PG
Summary: Old habits are hard to break.
It wasn't until the bed dipped, when someone's weight returned, that Glitch was pulled from his blurry, exhausted sleep. He didn't bother to open his eyes, recognizing the soft, whispering sounds of strong, confident hands pulling tight on shoe laces. Like a hundred times before, he was left under the cooled sheets while his overnight guest got dressed and prepared to leave.
Most of the times this part of the ritual took place hours earlier; rarely had he found himself still in their company after dawn.
He never remembered what they looked like and knew there was no point in reminding himself by rolling over to find out. Instead, he simply stayed where he was, on his side facing away, listening to the sounds of knots slipping into place.
"Just leave the money on the table," he mumbled into his pillow, not really caring anymore if they heard him. It didn't matter if they paid him or not; it wasn't worth fighting to get a handful of plats for a few hours of his time.
This time the sound stilled, the silence lasting for a number of breaths. Until the bed shifted and the weight making it droop slid closer. When warm, rough fingers touched his temple and he felt the ever-present lock of hair being brushed aside, he squeezed his eyes closed tighter.
He hated this part, when they treated him like he mattered.
Wide, dry lips pressed against his skin that the fingers had just ghosted over. "What'd you just say?"
Glitch sighed through his nose, turning his face closer to the flat pillow. "Don't act like you didn't hear me."
"Sweetheart, it's me," the low voice held a note of concern and Glitch frowned.
A flood of images, memories, vivid and bright and so full of hope burned into his mind and Glitch's eyes flew open. He turned his head, recognition making him flush with humiliation, realizing his mistake. "Wyatt," he said simply, swallowing past the hard lump in his throat. "Sorry."
Cain's face hovered over him, eyes calculating and full of question. But Glitch could already tell there would be none asked; Cain was a cop, he knew the implications of Glitch's words better than most would. Instead, Cain leaned down and kissed him properly, a chaste meeting of lips. "Don't worry about it," he said, sitting up again but leaving his thumb to stroke Glitch's temple. "Sorry about leaving so early; I promised Jeb I'd meet him for breakfast downtown. You still up for checking out the cellar storage rooms this afternoon? I should be back in time to have lunch with you, too."
Glitch relaxed, rolling toward Cain and reaching up to slide his hand down Cain's forearm. "I can't wait," he grinned and it felt brittle. He knew better than to assume Cain would let Glitch's mistake go completely.
"I'll see you later, then," Cain returned his smile with one far more convincing. The bed shifted again and Glitch was alone, like a hundred times before.
Only this time, he knew there would be no money on the bedside table. This time, he had taken someone to bed because he wanted to. And he would do it again; hopefully, so often that he would lose count.
**
End.