Thawed - ToMatt

8

Matt sighed. He was tired. Tired from working all day. Only a little was from dealing with Tom, not entirely however. It was physical exhaustion. His body felt like collapsing. He glanced over at his sleeping friend. One arm draped over the bed, with the other across Matt. He stared at his hand which was on his chest. He fiddled with Tom's fingers and slid his hand down to rub a thumb over his white and purple scars.

What a journey he's been through...

He caressed Tom's palm with his thumb once more, sighing quietly. He traced his veins, which were also littered with scars. He felt bad that he wasn't there for any of his battles. Tom was too independent. So independent that he pushed others away. Matt felt Tom's hand close against his. His freckled face melted into pink as he looked over at Tom's face. He was staring, smiling softly as his eyes were half-lidded.

"You're..cute."

His face only grew a shade darker. His blue eyes traced his lips. He looked at Tom's deep, black eyes with wonder. "You.. You're handsome." He responded quietly. Tom's face reddened to match his. He grinned, his thumb now rubbing over the top of Matt's hand. "I.." Matt started once again, "I.." He drifted off.

He wanted to confess. He stopped himself. What if Tom wasn't ready? He has a lot on his mind already. He didn't want to burden him with the news. He couldn't risk a breakdown, so instead, he changed the route of conversation...sort of.

"I haven't cuddled anyone in a while." The ginger admitted softly, peering over shyly at the other. "I haven't cuddled anyone," he sighed, "besides you." He finished. Matt leaned over against Tom, resting his head between his chin and his shoulder. Tom froze. Um, how did cuddling work again..? He reluctantly put his free arm around him. They were still hand in hand.

Matt nuzzled Tom with only the slightest intention of affection. He responded by petting his soft, silky, orange hair. He hummed as he took in the moment. Their hands begun feeling sweaty, now growing oddly uncomfortable, yet still satisfying due to contact. Tom breathed out a soft sigh. He could do this for ages.

The soft click and hum echoed through the small house of Tom's. Cracking of the floors popped through the planks of glossed wood. His air begun flowing through the room, only causing Matt to snuggle closer. "Um, I," he stammered, "I have shirts in the drawer if you need some clothes..." Tom nervously mentioned, now remembering that Matt had no shirt. He only whined in response, "Paaass. I'll stay here." He didn't feel like doing anything.

Three short knocks found their way to Tom's room. They both jumped at the sudden disturbance. Matt groaned, "I'll get ittt." He got up and let go of Tom's hand, his own now warm and sweaty. He wiped it on his boxers, sighing. Tom about had a heart attack as he saw Matt's back face him. He thought he only had no shirt. Since when did he lose his pants as well? He tried not to stare as him, but to him of course, what he had in the back was just as great as the front. Tom squeezed his eyes shut for a second and opened them back up.

Stop thinking like that.

Matt's tired eyes searched for a piece of clothing that'd fit him. Everything was too big. But it didn't make any sense; Matt was taller. Did Tom..weigh more than him? He didn't give it a second thought and brushed the wonder away. He grabbed a dark blue hoodie and threw it over his head. He popped out from underneath it and sighed, a small smile forming. It smelled of Tom and it was warm, too.

He hurriedly rushed to the front door and opened it. He let out another yawn, bent an arm upwards and scratched his head. The hoodie fell to expose the skin of his shoulder. "Good evening." He greeted tiredly, not paying attention to who he was even greeting in the first place. An over middle-aged woman glanced towards him once he opened the door, not even cracking a smile.

"I came to see my son."