In which Jack, insomniac extrordinair, despite being on a fancy new (and far more reasonable) sleeping medication, sometimes still has trouble staying asleep through the night.
Unfortunately for him, his usual tactic of just reading in bed is being thwarted by:
A) His best friend/boyfriend(?), 'recovering' stoner who must have been a koala in a past life by how tightly he likes to hold Jack in his sleep.
And B) His Ex friend(?), Ex Special ops, Ex(?) antagonist, Ex Lacky x2, Ex(?) Enemy, who wakes up to the sound of a pin dropping down the street, who has the reflexes of a well oiled bear-trap.
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Jack was well and truly stuck.
Physically, metaphorically and every 'ically' in between.
He had awoken at an unreasonable early hour, bound in place, in his bed… And he just knew that he wouldn't ever be able to get back to sleep…
It wasn't uncommon for Jack to have trouble sleeping, despite his fancy new sleep medication his new psychiatrist (Real psychiatrist) had him on, he still had nights where sleep was as evasive as Rocco, loose in the gas station.
And despite living the majority of his life as an insomniac, with his newfound ability to sleep, Jack found his sleepless night becoming more and more annoying…
Of course, as he had in the past, Jack preferred to spend his sleepless night with his nose buried in a good book, and sometimes if he was lucky, he could convince his body to clock out again, or he would zone out so completely that he could convince himself that he had fallen back asleep by the time his alarm rang.
Unfortunately, reading the night away wouldn't be an option that night.
Because unlike most nights where Jack would simply have to wrestle an arm out from the bearhug Jerry would have him locked in to reach behind himself to grab the book he knew he left on his bedside table and flip on the lamp.
That night, there was also a body curled around behind Jack, a body that would inevitably wake at the slightest movement, and who would most likely not be all too pleased by the prospect of being woken just so Jack could read for a little while.
Unfortunately for Spencer, Jack could care less if he didn't get his precious beauty sleep.
The warm breath wafting against the back of Jack's neck with every exhale of the man behind him hitched when he began to worm his arm out from beneath Jerry, who had comfortably plastered himself to Jack's front, his face tucked into the crook of Jack's shoulder, some time during the night.
But Jack wasn't worried about waking Jerry, Jerry could sleep through the end of the world and wake up the next morning well rested and ready to make his own anarchy on route to breakfast.
Spencer groaned softly as Jack nudged his side with his elbow on accident, not hard or anything, just a nudge as he slipped his arm free of his Jerrycage.
"It's early…"
Jack wasn't ashamed to admit the low, groggy tone of Spencer's voice, mumbled just against the back of his neck, had a shudder running down his spine.
Jack was so used to that voice threatening violence, promising pain and casually triggering his fight or flight response that the times where Spencer spoke without growled undertones of torture had him pausing more often than not.
"Why're you up?"
Jack found himself swallowing thickly before replying, he wasn't tired, or even sleepy at that point, but his throat was rather dry.
"I woke up."
Spencer huffed a soft chuckle behind him, not a cruel, cold bubble of laughter, just a tired amused sound.
"I know…"
Jack rolled his eyes, and then realized after a moment of silence that first of all, it was dark, so Spencer couldn't see his reaction, and second of all, he was facing away from Spencer, so the first part was irrelevant because Spencer couldn't see him anyways.
"I can't sleep." Jack admitted quietly, furrowing his brow as he spoke… How many times had he spoken those exact same words before? A lot by his best estimate…
"Did you take your pills?" Spencer drawled quietly, the soft grogginess in his voice slowly slipping away into an early morning awareness.
"Yea."
Spencer hummed, not a tune, but in acknowledgment before he sighed;
"One of those nights?" He guessed quietly.
Jack paused before slowly nodding his head, feeling Jerry's soft hair against his chin and throat.
"Yea… One of those nights…"
Spencer and he remained quiet for a brief while, both awake, neither with any interest in trying to fall back asleep, Jack unable to and Spencer simply unwilling.
"Would you mind if I read for a while?" Jack asked shortly after the downstairs clock chimed two.
Spencer wordlessly retrieved his own arm from around Jack's hip, bringing his arm out from beneath the duvet to click on the small clock light on his watch to check the time properly before he sighed.
"You remember what your shrink told you?" He mumbled as he rolled partway onto his back to reach out behind himself to the bedside table.
The lamp clicked on, illuminating the corner of the room in a typically dull, but at that moment far too bright light before Spencer's arm reappeared, a familiar book in his hand, thumb already pressed between the pages Jack had bookmarked before bed.
It was a short novel, about a window washer in some big city who sees something he shouldn't have one day while doing his job, forcing him to go on the run, Jack was only a few chapters in and he was more than sure he would be able to finish it before his alarm went off.
"Read to me?"
Spencer asked quietly before Jack even made it halfway down the first page.
Jack paused… He knew what game Spencer was playing. For someone so terrifyingly, Spencer could be the biggest suck. And the dirtiest trickster.
Spencer was holding the book for Jack, using Jerry as an armrest and his thumb to keep the pages open, allowing Jack to flip the pages as he needed…
The thing was… Spencer, despite being a ludicrously light sleeper, was also ridiculously easy to put to sleep. Case in point, it typically only took Jack reading a few chapters, (Or pages depending on the genre) from a book to put the dangerous psycho to sleep.
Meaning that Jack had a definitive timeline to read before the SS-Spencer ended up hoisting his awakeness-anchor and setting sail off into dreamland, which would definitely result in him closing the book one way or another.
"You're the worst." Jack sighed softly before he returned to the top of the page, keeping his voice low to not disturb Jerry (Though he knew well that some light reading wouldn't be anywhere near enough to rouse the other man)
Spencer merely shuffled a bit closer, pressing his chest to Jack's back and his nose to the nape of his neck as he listened…
As expected, Spencer's resolve to hold the book began to waver around the second chapter, before failing completely just past the beginning of chapter three.
When the book fell from his grasp, he wordlessly removed the book from the bed, rolling over again to set the book back onto the bedside table, flip off the lamp before curling back around Jack, tugging the duvet up to their shoulders, slipping an arm around Jack's middle and then falling silent.
Jack sighed heavily before he settled back down, more sure than ever that he wouldn't be getting a lick of sleep as the story had just been getting good when Spencer decided to clock out.
Still, Jack missed the downstairs clock chiming three, four and five before he woke to Spencer all but pulverizing his alarm clock with a fist as it chimed 5:45.