Title: To Feed A Soul
Prompt: #33 charm and #50 murmur
Characters/Pairing: Doug Penhall, Tom Hanson -- Doug/Tom
Rating: K
Warnings: slash
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: He decided that Doug's stomach would be a pretty good pillow for the next couple of hours – and if they missed breakfast it wouldn't matter because he had really only set it all up so that he could spend the day with Doug.
A/N: pretty different than what I normally write... written for rosemelody2 on lj... kinda got the title from the quote(end of story), which I thought fit the story... and in my profile I've put why updates on stuff are slow, and yeah, not a omg I was dying type of reason, but it's something... and ignore the thing about prompts being not so important lol because uh this is better than nothing...
right and again... this is random-insights, I just changed my name again. definition in profile, but really, just something created by lack of sleep and too much caffeine. sorry for any confusion, but again, random-insights, but with a new name... again lol.
Tom snuck into the apartment quietly, inching the door closed behind him slowly, sighing in relief when the only noise produced was a small click. Next came his boots, harder to do quietly because if he were to accidentally drop one of them there would be noise and he would be caught. He didn't though, and was soon moving through the darkened living room slowly, being careful not to bump into a table or a chair.
Doug shot up in bed quickly, startled but unsure as to why. A small mumbled groan caught his attention and he swung his legs over the side of the mattress, feet hitting the floor with a small thump. He stood slowly, quietly, and reached for his gun. He knew that there was somebody in his apartment and he wasn't going to confront them unarmed.
Tom tripped over something unknown and fell to the floor hard with a loud thump. His head smacked against a hard surface as he went down and he cursed loudly, no longer worrying about being silent. He brought a numb hand – the one that had hit solid ground as he tried to prevent himself falling too hard – up to his head, groaning as he felt the wet stickiness he knew would be there just under his hairline.
The room erupted in bright light and Tom let out a hiss, blinking quickly to adjust his eyesight to the sudden light.
"Tommy?" Doug stared down at the younger officer suspiciously after turning on the lights in an attempt to startle the intruder. "What the hell are you doing?"
Tom let out a sheepish grin as he looked up at his friend, noting the gun held in his hand curiously. "You were gonna shoot me?"
"Not you," Doug replied quickly, taking a step towards Tom and placing the gun on the coffee table. He knelt down so that his and Tom's gazes met, noticing the gash displayed roughly on Tom's forehead like paint splattered carelessly on a canvas, blood dripping down the side of his face to stain the collar of his shirt.
"I tripped," Tom offered as an explanation upon noticing where Doug's gaze was directed at. "Sorry for you waking you."
"Damn it Tommy," Doug muttered, slightly annoyed but mostly worried. "What the hell are you doing here? It's four in the morning."
"To give you your gift," Tom replied simply.
"Gift?"
"Yeah. It's been a month since we started dating."
"So you sneak in here in the middle of the night to give me it?" Doug asked incredulously. It wasn't like Tom to do something like this; in actuality, it was more like something Doug himself would do.
"Yeah," Tom muttered. "I know it sounds stupid, but on our first date you went all out to make it so damned amazing. I just wanted to do something special for you."
"And that would be?" Doug asked, still skeptical of his boyfriend's actions.
"Well first I was gonna put this on your pillow-" Tom pulled an envelope from the inside of his jacket and displayed in front of him before passing it over to Doug.
"Okay, wait," Doug interrupted, setting the envelope on the table. "You're still bleeding, man. Let's go get you cleaned up and then you can finish your story, okay?"
"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," Tom mumbled, trying to stand. A rush of dizziness overcame him and he fell back onto his butt, groaning. "A little help?"
"Yeah, 'course," Doug replied, grabbing onto Tom's arm and pulling him up into a standing position. With one hand laced across his shoulders, Doug was able to guide Tom towards the washroom. "Okay, sit down on the toilet seat and I'll get a facecloth."
After determining that Tom would not need stitches and that he hadn't gotten a concussion – he was not seeing any black spots and was able to identify five times how many fingers Doug had held up – both men made their way back into the living room. Sitting down on the couch, Tom began to continue with his story.
"See, that way, when you woke up, you would see the envelope."
Doug watched Tom as he spoke, then gave him a quizzical look when he spoke no more. "Yeah, so when I see it-"
"You open it," Tom cut in. "As in, you should open it now."
"Oh, okay," Doug replied. "Don't need to be so pushy..." the older man leaned forward and grasped the package in his hand before settling back into the comfort of the couch. Tom had awoken him, after all, and right now he wanted to go back to sleep.. Doug pulled a piece of paper from inside of the envelope and started to laugh. "What is this?
"Read it," Tom urged, pushing himself closer to Doug as he began to read aloud what was written on the paper.
"Go to 34 Talbot Street at 9am. Dress nice. Love Tom."
Doug shot Tom a curious look, who merely shrugged. "I just needed to tell you that. I didn't think it needed to be longer."
"Yeah, so what's there?" Doug questioned, peering inside the envelope to see if he had missed anything. He hadn't.
"It's supposed to be a surprise."
"And this was too," Doug argued, waving the paper in Tom's face. "C'mon Tommy, you can tell me," he continued, wrapping an arm around the younger man's shoulders.
"It's where we went on our first date, Doug. Remember?"
"Really? I just remembered it was called Eddie's or something."
"Eddie's, yeah. But I thought we could have breakfast, then spend the day together."
"Really?" Doug asked, surprised. Why not just call me and tell me?"
"Because you kinda asked me on our first. I wanted this to be different. I was also gonna set your alarm to wake you at six-thirty so you'd get there."
"I think I'd rather if you had called me last night so I wouldn't need to wake up so early..."
"Sorry," Tom mumbled. "I just thought... never mind, this was a stupid idea."
"No it wasn't," Doug replied quickly, pulling Tom closer. "I think it's cool. I just wish I coulda had the chance to sleep until six-thirty."
Tom touched his forehead gingerly, smiling slowly. "Sorry. Although if you cleaned up, I wouldn't have tripped over-" Tom looked towards the spot where he had fallen, his smile becoming larger. "-your slipper."
"Uh-uh," Doug argued. "That would be your slipper Tommy. You left them here last week."
"No way," Tom argued. "I brought mine home with me!"
Doug shook his head vigorously. "I don't wear 'em Tommy; it's yours."
"Oh whatever," Tom muttered, defeated. "It was still your fault for not giving it back sooner or moving it someplace else."
"It doesn't matter, Tommy," Doug mumbled sleepily. "I'm kinda glad I got you here now. I missed you."
"I missed you too," Tom murmured, Doug's sleepiness suddenly making him remember how little he had slept that night with wanting to get the letter here early. "Love you, Doug," he added before yawning, pushing himself down into a more comfortable position. He decided that Doug's stomach would be a pretty good pillow for the next couple of hours – and if they missed breakfast it wouldn't matter because he had really only set it all up so that he could spend the day with Doug.
"Let us be grateful to people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom." Marcel Proust
(as in even though Tom had awoken Doug, he was still happy that Tom wass there with him, no matter what he did, and Tom trying so hard to please Doug...)