Pellaeon has grown used to waking up alone in bed. He understands why it has to be that way. Thrawn works different hours, he is needed on the bridge earlier than himself, it would look odd if they left his room at the same time. The list goes on, and each item on it is reasonable.
That doesn't mean he has to like it. The only thing that keeps him from getting out of bed in a miserable mood every morning is knowing that Thrawn hates it as much as he does.
But it's still just so... upsetting when Thrawn always leaves.
And it is always. No occasional sleeping in for the grand admiral, oh no. No waking up early together so they can just relax in the same bed like any normal couple. The work must come first, they have a duty. Pellaeon hates how correct that all is. Their work must come first, even before their needs as people.
Which is why when Pellaeon wakes up, long before his alarm but after Thrawn's shift starts he rolls over expecting cold sheets. Instead he feels a warm body and he's so startled by that he jolts fully awake. He sits up and stares at the alien who is sleeping peacefully beside him, unaware of that fact that he's supposed to be elsewhere.
"Thrawn," he hisses as he shakes the man's shoulder.
Thrawn is just as startled as he was when he wakes up – he sits up with a gasp, glancing around the room before his eyes settle on Pellaeon. He sags a bit when they make eye contact, although it looks like the gesture is born from tiredness rather than relief.
"What?" he asks groggily, shutting his eyes with a grimace as he pinches the bridge of his nose.
Pellaeon scoffs just a bit, baffled by all of this. He's also just the slightest bit pissed. The one time they wake up together, and he cannot even enjoy it. Because Thrawn has to leave. Again. And again and again. "What do you mean what? You're supposed to be on the bridge right now. Did you not set your alarm?"
Thrawn stares at him for a long moment before his eyes widen in realization and he falls back onto the mattress with an agonized groan. He swears colorfully as he laments his lost rest and Pellaeon rolls his eyes. "Yeah, well, serves you right for staying up late looking at reports."
"I was sleeping so well." His voice is rough with sleep, and Pellaeon wonders what it would sound like to hear him say good morning. He shouldn't though, because he knows he may never hear that and it isn't right for him to hold that against either Thrawn or himself. But it still hurts. It always does when your partner leaves.
"Well, there is always tomorrow." Pellaeon hates the resignation in his voice.
"Mm-mm. No. Fuck it. Lie back down, go to sleep, and wake me up when your shift rolls around."
"What – you can't just skip out on your shift!"
"Like hell I can't." Thrawn rolls over to face him and defiantly yanks the blanket up under his chin, eyes glowing hotly in the darkness of the room. "I worked eighteen hours yesterday and you don't even have to move for another four. No one has commed me and most of them are not children. They can handle a few hours of real work without me."
That… was hard to argue with. Especially when Pellaeon realized that they'd both get to wake up together for once. "Fine. But we're cuddling."
Thrawn throws an arm up, tenting the blanket between them in invitation and Pellaeon huffs out a half-laugh as he scoots closer. He slips into the space Thrawn makes for him and his arm falls around Pellaeon's waist, pulling him up against him. Each movement is sudden and harsh, but Pellaeon knows they are the movements of a man desperate for sleep.
He didn't know Thrawn wasn't a morning person. One of the small facts he'd been missing out on until now.
Thrawn kisses the top of his head, wishes him goodnight, and then is… asleep. Out like a light. Damn, Pellaeon might just have to ask him how he does that. He glances over shoulder to make sure his alarm is set (now wouldn't that be embarrassing?) before allowing himself to relax against the other man and close his eyes.
He can't stop one last smile as he thinks about them leaving together as sleep draws him in.
