[ dressed in an oversized hoodie and boxers (both varying shades of blue), bob waits on the bed cross-legged, picking at the pulled-back sheets. he can hear embry before he enters, the soft shuffle of his footsteps, the steady but quickening beat of his heart. something desolate in his expression. he’s not coming in, when he knows bob is the danger. he is, because he knows that and hopes for the end. no-win scenario.
except —
the door opens, and bob perks, features opening and lifting, blue eyes brighter for embry’s fleeting attention. he watches as embry peers around the space — as he considers the clutter that makes this room bob’s, bereft of any intentional decor — and holds his breath. waits for the mockery. the rejection. in for one, two, three, four. out for four, three, two, one. none comes.
embry settles, like he means to stay, and, for a moment, all bob can do is marvel at the fact of him, real and breathing beside him. not doing anything to push him away. looking much the way bob feels inside, on the verge of disintegration. bob reaches out, palm pressed into the mattress, near enough to touch. a gentle precursor, a test, before bob scoots into him, slotting into the opening beneath embry’s raised arm, head bumping his princely jaw. too late to turn him away, although he doesn’t dare ask for more, fiddling with the string and toggle of his hoodie instead of touching embry. clumsy, in his attempts at comfort, when so few have offered it to him. ]
You got me. [ here, like this. not the shadow or the light that casts it, just a boy. ] I’m glad you’re here.
[ in his room, in the house, in bob’s life despite both their efforts to break apart. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
except —
the door opens, and bob perks, features opening and lifting, blue eyes brighter for embry’s fleeting attention. he watches as embry peers around the space — as he considers the clutter that makes this room bob’s, bereft of any intentional decor — and holds his breath. waits for the mockery. the rejection. in for one, two, three, four. out for four, three, two, one. none comes.
embry settles, like he means to stay, and, for a moment, all bob can do is marvel at the fact of him, real and breathing beside him. not doing anything to push him away. looking much the way bob feels inside, on the verge of disintegration. bob reaches out, palm pressed into the mattress, near enough to touch. a gentle precursor, a test, before bob scoots into him, slotting into the opening beneath embry’s raised arm, head bumping his princely jaw. too late to turn him away, although he doesn’t dare ask for more, fiddling with the string and toggle of his hoodie instead of touching embry. clumsy, in his attempts at comfort, when so few have offered it to him. ]
You got me. [ here, like this. not the shadow or the light that casts it, just a boy. ] I’m glad you’re here.
[ in his room, in the house, in bob’s life despite both their efforts to break apart. ]