Title: Pins And Needles
Author: Donnie
Fandom: Fallout 3
Setting: Northwest Seneca Station
Pairing: Barrett/Murphy
Characters: Barrett, Murphy
Genre: Romance
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 259
Type of Work: Daily Drabble
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Fluff
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Barrett couldn't move, but he didn't really mind.

AN: So, I am probably the only person who cares about this ship, but here it is. I've been playing a lot of Fallout 3 in my stressed out state, and like. I'm enjoying it too much. This ship is probably going to sale by my own hand, and I'm thinking… The ship name is Barphy and it makes me laugh. xD I hope you guys enjoy!

Pins And Needles

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Barrett awoke with a frustrated groan to pins and needles marching like ants up his left arm. His eyelids fluttered and he grimaced at the low hum of the fluorescent light buzzing above him, hating the sound but loathing the perpetual, dim light it gave off. Already, the Ghoul had a mighty headache, and his arm was asleep.

He didn't have the heart to move it, however, due to the reasoning for it's little nap within a nap.

Murphy was an angel of flaking skin and smooth muscle, face pressed into his chest as his labored breathing paused for a second, and then continued with a wheeze. He brushed his fingers over the dead flesh of his neck and scratched at it with blunt nails, not minding when a sheet of skin fell off in their wake. The early morning, or late evening, it was hard to tell the time underground, was treating him well enough.

If only he could get his damn arm back.

The Ghoul in his arms stretched stiffly beside him, burying his face into Barrett's chest and gripping his t-shirt tightly.

"Welcome back." Barrett murmured softly against his forehead, kissing it as best he could.

"Mn… I need some coffee." Murphy muttered against his chest. When Barrett moved to get up to get it started, however Murphy's arms closed tighter around his torso and he chuckled, deep and raspy in his chest. "Not yet."

"Whatever you say, boss." Barrett's smirk was in his tone, and he leaned a little closer to kiss his ruined lips.

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AN: Welp, there we go! Finally got something written!

Prompt: The feeling of an ant walking on your hand.