Bad Things

*He remains stiff in your arms, a statue of ice. His voice is a muffled whisper against your shoulder.* You only need me when it's convenient for you.

*pulls away and wipes my eyes* I know...

*He looks away, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders.* Then what are you going to do? Words don't fix broken things.

*shifts slightly, a faint smile ghosting across sleeping features as fingers remain intertwined with Andrew's*

*andrew leans back, eyes never leaving his face* That's it... *voice soft* Just dream of good things.

*nuzzles closer* Mm...

*leans against the doorframe* So am I. *starts unbuttoning his shirt* We're both adults here, Andrew.

*eyes flutter open, voice drowsy* Morning... *stretches like a cat* Did you sleep well, love?