a thomastair ficlet | read on ao3 | inspiration
Gentle morning light filtered in through the window to paint Thomas’ face where he slept on the couch, an arm tucked behind his head and a book open on his chest. Alastair smiled fondly at the sight as he knelt beside the couch. He’d been out all night on patrol and had told Thomas not to wait up—it seemed he hadn’t heeded the request.
Careful as he could, Alastair reached out a hand and plucked up the book, glancing at the title before he set it aside: Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. Fitting, he supposed.
The movement was enough to cause Thomas to stir. His eyes fluttered open and focused on Alastair with some difficulty. “Good morning, love,” he said thickly, rubbing at his eyes and attempting to sit up.
Alastair pushed him back down, saying, “Wait here, aziz-am, I’ll be back in just a moment.” He didn’t wait for Thomas respond before he rose, toeing off his shoes and shrugging off his jacket and weapons belt, leaving them on a nearby chair. He was still in gear, but at least it was clean.
Thomas had sat up anyway and was now watching Alastair with an soft expression of love that never ceased to make Alastair’s heart thud. “How was patrol?” Thomas asked in a whisper.
Alastair hummed and sank into Thomas’ lap, looping an arm around his shoulder and resting a hand at the base of his neck. “Nothing to report. Thought you’d be in bed by the time I got back.”
It wasn’t quite a question, but Thomas answered anyway: “I wanted to see you as soon as you came home.”
Alastair couldn’t help but smile and press a kiss to Thomas’ forehead. As he pulled away, his eyes caught on the small spattering of freckles that dusted Thomas’ cheeks and nose. He grinned. “Have I ever told you,” he whispered, “how much I love your freckles?”
Thomas immediately looked taken back, only managing to blush and stammer out, “N-no, I, er, don’t think you have,” before Alastair leaned forward and pressed his lips to a cluster of them on his nose.
“Well, shame on me, then,” Alastair said, kissing Thomas’ cheek once, twice, “for not telling you sooner.”
Thomas huffed a laugh and his breath was warm against Alastair’s face. They each leaned forward at the same time, lips colliding awkwardly in a slow, sweet kiss. Alastair smiled into it, reveling in the feeling of being here with Thomas, being able to lean into his touch and forget momentarily about the aches and bruises of their lives—and the ones ghosting Alastair’s abdomen, which unfortunately made their presence known at Thomas’ touch.
“Thought you said there was nothing to report,” Thomas said when Alastair grimaced and lifted the hem of his shirt to reveal reddish-purple stained skin.
“I might’ve been tackled to the ground by Kamala to avoid a Shax demon and landed badly,” he admitted, “but that was the worst of it, I swear. I used an iratze and everything.”
“You should rest,” Thomas said immediately. “It’s only six-thirty,” he added with a glance at the clock. “Go to bed now and I’ll have breakfast ready by nine.”
Alastair shook his head but Thomas was already rising, gathering him in his arms and carrying him through their flat to their shared room. Before Alastair could protest, he was being lowered onto the bed. Thomas untangled their limbs and started to pull away but Alastair caught a fistful of his shirt. “Only if you stay here.”
Though Thomas looked at him with exasperation, Alastair could tell he was secretly pleased as he sank onto the bed beside him and turned so they were facing each other.
The full weight of the night settled on Alastair. He reached out and found Thomas’ hands waiting to pull him closer. He felt the deep warmth of sleep pulling his eyes shut, but before he could drop out entirely, he leaned forward and pressed one last kiss to the freckles on Thomas’ cheek. “Beautiful.”
tagging @littlx-songbxrd @thewarthatsavedmylife @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @ninacarstairss @stxr-thxif @lifewouldbebetteronmars lmk if you want to be added/removed, i feel like i’m missing ppl lol
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