Thinkin' stuff

Sleeping in my arms, my friend, my best friend. My lovely lad.
I stroke back a strand of soft, blue-black hair. I'm ridiculously fond of him.
Absolutely ridiculous.
He's a grown adult, perfectly capable of looking after himself, doesn't need me fussing over him.
Ridiculous.

This could all soon be over.

What if?
What if me and Jeannie really make a go of it? What if we want it to be just us? Just the two of us?
What do we do then?
What will he do?
Actually, I know what he'll do, he'll just shrug and carry on. The way he always does. He'll survive, he'll be fine.
It's me I'm worried about.

And it won't be just me an' Jeannie, anyway. There's still Summers. And the Frost woman. Why does it have to be so frickin' hard?

I breathe in his scent, warm, familiar, we've been doing this for years, shit, I think I've bedded him more than most of my long term relationships. Definitely more than any other guy.
And even if we never did this again, if we never had sex again, we'd still be friends. We'll always be friends, always be close, we don't know anything else to be with each other.

I continue stroking that soft hair. Wanna know a secret? This, this is as good as the sex. This warmth, this sleeping together, this quiet, safe time, no barriers, nothing but us, naked, honest, trusting. We trust each other. And that's a minor miracle; I don't trust people easily. We're built that trust over the years, built our friendship, which is why it works so well for us.

I realise, it not me an' Kurt I'm fretting over, it's me an' Jean.
All those 'what ifs'. What if it works? What if it doesn't?
What if I want her and she's with Scotty? Fuck, what if she gives me a fucking schedule to stick to? I can't love her to a schedule. Fuck that.

I will if I have to. I'll jump through any hoops she wants me to. She's worth it.

Something stirs under the covers. His tail curls, softly, lightly around my wrist, as though sensing my thoughts. Never quite figured it out, that tail, sometimes it has a life of it's own, sometimes it does as he asks it. "Wassup?" I'm talking to my partners tail. I really need my head looking at. It un-loops itself and the spade presses into my hand, for all the world like a cat wanting attention. So I give it a casual scritch, not too hard, I know it's real sensitive. It pushes against my palm and I continue to stroke it. Eventually, like a cat, it loses interest and curls up on the bed beside us.
"Mm?"
"Nothin' darlin." I go back to stroking his hair.
"Mm." He snuggles down on my chest.
This is what will keep me going. If it works. If it doesn't work. This gentle, kind, man will get me through, either way. I'll talk things through with him, he'll give me ideas, support, quiet friendship. If necessary, he'll pick me up and put me back together again.

But I need to be careful, I can be a dick, I take him for granted, get so focused on me and my needs and start treating him like shit. And he lets me, but one day he might not and I'll have lost him. And that, that would destroy me.
Soft hair. Soft, gentle lad.
I don't deserve you. We really don't deserve you.

He's awake now, I can tell by his change in breathing, I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to wake you. Now he's thinking. That over-smart brain is off and working.

"Stop yer thinkin', Elf."
He raises his head. "I'm not... How do you know I'm thinking?"
"Yer awake, therefore..."

I know how to distract him, distract both of us, the oldest distraction in the world, and other uses for that tail.