Tracob Oneshots

The One Where Troye Falls Asleep In Multiple Places

-airplanes-

"Poor thing." I mumble, looking over at my boyfriend, who's already nodded off in his plane seat. We've just taken off on our flight home from New York, and Troye is exhausted, I can tell. He's always good at falling asleep literally anywhere, but sometimes, the uncomfortable looking positions he ends up in are just heartbreaking for me to see.

Today, his head is leaning forwards and down, and even when he lifts it up again, it tilts to the side again like a bobblehead. As gently as possible, I place my palm and fingers against his forehead, slowly pushing his head up. Troye's still knocked out, having had five in the morning wake-up calls all week.

There's nobody really paying attention to us besides the lady on my other side, but she looks pleasant and seems to pick up on the fact that I'm his boyfriend before going back to whatever she was doing.

I steady his head back against the headrest, pushing the sides of it inwards and slowly removing my hands. The boy is peaceful for a moment, his pink lips already parted and making him look even purer than he is to begin with. This only lasts for a few moments, though, before his poor head is falling to the side and bouncing slightly on his shoulder again.

Troye's hands are limp in his lap before they suddenly move, showing that he's dreaming.

"Come here, bug. Wake up for a minute, sweetheart, I've got you." I snake my hand around him and pull him onto my shoulder, startling him awake sightly before he realizes where he is and relaxes in my hold.

"There you go." He rests his head on my shoulder, melting into my side, complete with a tiny puddle of drool on my sleeve. "I've got you."

-cuddles-

I can tell he's asleep right away, watching his head flop to the side but him quickly repositioning it before I can do anything.

Troye and I are at Jedidiah's house along with Ruthie to watch a wrestling tournament because Jedidiah wants to get us immersed in the sport or whatever. Either way, he's one of my best friends, and I'd do anything for him. So, game night at Jed's house.

Of course, ten minutes in, my boyfriend's abandoned ship and dozed off against my chest. He's leaning back directly onto me, like I'm a convenient reclining chair, so every time we make a small movement, his head moves.

"Is Troye - is Troye sleeping?" Jedidiah's eyebrows climb dangerously high on his forehead as he peers over my shoulder at the sleeping boy.

"Uh...yes?"

"Jacob, do you not want your boyfriend to be cultured?" He demands, looking outraged. "Sports are a central part of American culture. We get our chips -" he gestures wildly to the snacks laid out on the table, "- we get our friends -" he points at Ruthie where's she's perched on a yoga ball, bobbing up and down, "- and we watch some good, old fashioned wrestling."

"Troye doesn't come from America," I remind Jed, just to annoy him further. "And he hates sports, you know that. And he had a super early morning TV taping today. He's tired Jed, let him be."

Jed huffs and stuff some bean dip into his mouth a little too aggressively to be normal. Ruthie rules her eyes.

"Jed, come on you can't seriously be mad at that sweet angel face, can you?"

Jed peeks over at Troye again and his expression softens at the younger boy's calm, peaceful expression.

"I guess not," he concedes. "But still."

"Troye kinda looks like a little kid sometimes, doesn't he, Jacob?" Ruthie cocks her head to get a better look at him.

I have to chuckle at how accurate that observation is. "Absolutely, he does. He looks four again when he sleeps."

Troye's head bounces with my laughter and I put my hands on either side of his face to steady him.

As soon as I let go, his head flops to the side in what looks like a painful position. I try to prop it upright again but it slips right back down.

Ruthie raises her eyebrows. "You know you're going to have to hold him like that the whole time. He's out out."

I shrug, rearranging myself so I can comfortably frame his face with my hands and hold his head upright. "I'll do it for him and only him."

"Jed?" Ruthie drawls over at her best friend. "Would you hold my head up so I can sleep comfortably."

"Would, will and have, Ruth." He answers without missing a beat and Ruthie flashes him her blinding, bright smile.

"We're all good friends here. There's not a thing we wouldn't do for each other."

"Oh I don't know about that," Jed tears his eyes away from the wrestling match on TV. "I wouldn't hold Jacob's head while he slept."

"What?" I laugh. "Why?"

"No offense, Bix, but you have a massive head. You know, actually I have a personal question for you."

"Oh god."

"Say the situation is reversed, and you're sleeping on Troye's chest like he's on yours now - do you ever worry that you're head will like, dent his sternum while you sleep?"

Ruthie bursts out laughing so hard she slips off her yoga ball. "Jedidiah that is so mean."

"Serious question! Absolutely serious question!"

"No!" I cry, half defensive half laughing. "You know what - no, stop laughing - you know what, it's actually the opposite. Troye sleeps on me so much that there's a little divit in my chest from his head! I'm serious, it's really there." I slide my hand under my sleeping boyfriend's head and find the little spot above my ribcage where I can feel that it dips down. "And this wasn't here before Troye came along, I know that for a fact."

Ruthie's still on the floor laughing. "I think I had to many vodka tonics because this is too funny. Y'all make me laugh. Give it a couple more years and you're going to have a crater there."

"No, I'm seriously worried for my health, Ruthie."

"Christ, Jacob. The things you do for Troye." Jed shakes his head.

"Yes thank you, the things I do for him! I'm underappreciated."

"He loves you," Ruthie says, sobering up at last. "He's so madly in love with you, Jake."

"No, I know that. I'm just kidding. I'll never truly complain about what I do for him, I just count myself lucky to have him." I look down at my boyfriend's perfect face, leaning forwards to kiss the top of his nose.

"But, you know, if you get tired of his head making a crater in your chest, feel free to lay him in the guest bedroom," Jed offers, turning back to the TV.

We watch one more match before I decide that taking Troye to the guest room will be better for us both. It takes some work to wiggle out from underneath him and pick him up without waking him entirely, but with a little help from Ruthie I manage. He mumbles something about applesauce while I'm carrying him carefully down the hall, trying hard not to fall. The guest room door is open and I take him over to the be, laying him down gently. His eyes open when I start to pull away, and he looks confused for a second.

"Shh shhh, I'm right here. We're at Jed's, remember? You fell asleep on me?"

Troye nods, his eyes fluttering shut again. "Lay with me."

It's both a question and a demand. I lay down beside him, on my side as well so we're almost nose to nose. His gentle breaths are warm and shallow, his heartbeat against mine where our chests touch. I slide my hand up his shirt and graze my fingers up and down his back soothingly, over and over and over until I'm sure he's asleep again, looking as peaceful and angelic as ever. I lean in, pecking his rosebud mouth softly.

"G'night, Troye."