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Marty McFly yawned his way out of sleep, eyes blinking open at the irritating sound of Doc's doorbell. Through vision blurred with sleep, he glanced at one of the many clocks that littered Doc's walls - 7:30 AM.
"Who in the hell..." He grumbled, plopping his face back down into the soft mattress of the bed, debating if it was really worth it to get out of bed. The sheets were so soft against his skin, Doc's palm was so warm against the bare skin of his back, and his eyelids were so, so heavy... It would be incredibly easy to slip back into sleep, to allow himself back into the warm embrace of drowsiness, to reach out and tuck himself against Doc's chest and just pretend he never heard the goddamn doorbell.
But what if it's something important? Why else would someone be here this early?
Despite his efforts to embrace the tiredness he felt coursing through his body, the back of his mind nagged at him as the doorbell sang its familiar song again.
What if it's Mom or Dad? What if it's urgent and they come inside anyway?
It was that last thought that got him to sit up with a groan, running a hand through his frazzled hair, willing his body to accept that it was unfortunately time to wake up. Beside him, Doc still snored away, tangled up in the well-worn blankets that they had been sharing only moments earlier. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he couldn't help but smile at how peaceful Doc looked when he dozed. Watching Doc sleep was one of the few times that the man looked truly at peace, even with his hair sticking all over the place and the hint of drool leaking onto the pillow where his face was pressed.
Smiling, Marty's hand drifted of its own accord, reaching down and brushing a palm through the white fluff of hair, smoothing it down out of Doc’s slightly creased face. Fondness pooled in his ribcage as the older man unconsciously smiled, Marty echoing with a smile of his own. However, the moment was shattered, the doorbell chiming again. And again and again and again and again.
Sighing loudly, Marty removed his hand from the other man's hair as he stood, shivering as the icy chill of the room met his bare skin, sending goosebumps up and down his body. The doorbell assaulter continued their insistent attack, and Marty glanced around the dimly lit room for the clothing he knew he discarded onto the floor late last night.
A pile of blue and yellow by the foot of the bed caught his gaze first, and he took a few steps on the icy floor, reaching for the clothing, sliding the worn blue denim over his legs, not having time to locate his underwear. As he held up the bright yellow button-down, he couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. This was definitely not his shirt, the bright red and purple zigzag print being undeniably Doc's. He glanced towards the bedroom door, then towards the floor (which seemed to have eaten his underwear and t-shirt), and then back at the surprisingly soft, garishly bright fabric in his fists.
It'll work.
Yanking the shirt over his arms, he couldn't help but snort to himself as his hands were swallowed by the sleeves, damn Doc and his long arms. Rolling the fabric up quickly, he tried to make himself look as presentable as he could with the little time he had. Taking a quick glance in Doc’s cracked mirror, he mussed with his hair and tucked the ends of the shirt into his pants, unable to stop grinning at the absurdity of his apperance. The outfit definitely was a little goofy, and not remotely anything he would usually wear, but if he didn’t go now, whoever was at the door was likely to leave or force their way inside.
With a final glance back towards the somehow still sleeping Doc, Marty exited the bedroom door, the squeal of the ancient frame obnoxious behind him. Tucking his hands in his jean pockets as he walked to the front door, he found his brain stuck on one thought, him desperately hoping that the disarray and unusualness of his clothing didn't scream 'the morning after' as loudly as he felt they did.
Not allowing himself another moment to worry as he reached the worn down brown door, he grabbed for the knob, wincing as the morning sunlight trickled into his eyes, outlining the annoying familiar shape of -
"Needles." Marty couldn't keep the irritation out of his tired voice as he stared at the spiky black curls of the other kid. "The hell are you doing here?" His classmate actually looked a bit startled, his light eyes widening before he broke into a casual smirk, gaze trailing up and down, taking in what Marty knew was an undeniably ridiculous outfit.
"Damn, McFly, you've even got that freak dressing you now?" The tone was condescending, mocking, leaving Marty fighting with the blush that wanted to spread throughout his face as he tried to get his bearings. He didn't know who he had been expecting to see, but fucking Needles of all people...this was not a great start to his morning.
"There was an explosion in the lab last night, so I had to borrow some of Doc's stuff." He tried his best to play it off with a shrug, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe as he spoke, still squinting - ugh, the sun is bright this morning . "Why do you care? Why are you even here, Needles?" Something about Needles being here at all was giving him an uneasy feeling. But the taller boy just shrugged, eyes still alight with mischief.
"I was looking for you , McFly. That guitar pedal you had the old crackhead jack up for you. Think he could do that to one of mine?"
The way he spoke, it wasn't a question, not that Marty was surprised. Of course he was here for a 'favor.' Marty wouldn't expect anything less from Doug Needles. The guy gave him shit day in and day out, making fun of his friendship with the Doc, his guitar skills, his social skills, pretty much anything about Marty that he didn’t like. But Marty always had pretty thick skin; he could handle that. Somehow, the more irritating thing was that Needles was always so quick to run to him if he needed a favor of the scientific kind, knowing that if Marty asked Doc to do something, he'd do it, no questions asked.
It was pretty much common knowledge that Marty had Doc wrapped around his finger.
"Okay, for one, Doc's not a crackhead. He's a genius. Two, what’s in it for me? And three, why couldn't this wait 'til Monday, Needles? I didn't need to be woken up for your damn guitar pedal." The grin on Needles' face grew wider as Marty’s frown grew, the prominent gap in his teeth turning Needles’ expression into something borderline frightening.
" Woke you up? You living with the old man now, McFly?" Marty felt his heart skip a beat, but fought with everything he could to keep his face neutral, knowing by now it was best to just skip right past those types of jokes, that acknowledging Needles at all in that category would only make it worse. Standing up from the doorframe with an aggravated sigh, he felt the sleeve of his left arm start to unroll, fabric brushing the tips of his fingers. It made him think of Doc, asleep in their bed, and another wave of longing shot through his body. He just wanted to go back to bed. It was early, it was Saturday, (with a wave of irritation, Saturday was his and Doc's day, it was their day), and instead of being asleep, he was out on the porch, stuck dealing with Needles. He just wanted the other kid to go away, so he forced a smile that anyone could see was fake, running his hand through his hair.
"Look, Needles, I'll ask the Doc if he can fix up your pedal for like, twenty bucks, okay?" His voice sounded annoyed, even to his own ears, but apparently, Needles either didn't hear or didn't care, grinning and thrusting the guitar pedal in question into his palm. As an afterthought, Marty added quickly, "But only if Doc agrees." The slimy looking kid gave an even slimier smile, shrugging in a matter that revealed he didn't give a shit.
"He never says no to you, McFly. You got a deal. Get it to me soon as you can, alright? I got a gig tomorrow night." He didn't wait for a response from Marty, just turned and left in a flash, hopping into his car and tearing down the street. Marty watched him leave before closing the door, pushing his fallen yellow sleeve back up to his elbow with a sigh.
"Yeah, whatever...asshole. Better get my twenty bucks this time…" Tossing the pedal onto one of Doc's chairs, he turned to glance at the clocks quickly. 7:43 AM. Still early enough to go back to bed.
Smile returning to his features, he began to make his way back to Doc's bedroom, nearly colliding with the older man as he emerged through the door suddenly, dressed in some pajamas that suddenly looked far more comfortable than Marty's own jeans and button-up. "Jesus, Doc, don't sneak up on me like that." He gave the man a playful smile, watching as Doc looked down at him with a matching smile, a familiar flame of curiosity in his eyes.
"I heard you talking. Who was here at this hour?" His voice was tired but inquisitive, and Marty just reached for him, leaning his face against the older man's chest, Doc returning the embrace, rough palm pressed familiarly against the curve of his spine.
"Needles. Wants you to soup up one of his guitar pedals like you did for mine." His thoughts were anywhere but on Needles as he wrapped his arms around Doc's midsection, smiling at the familiar electric scent of the man, something he, even after all this time, had been unable to place.
Doc hummed an understanding sound, palm gently tracing up and down the curve of his spine, the action incredibly soothing and making Marty's eyes slip closed.
“What did you tell him?” Doc’s voice wasn’t judgemental, and he just continued to gently rub Marty’s back. Marty sighed, shrugging, snuggling tighter into Doc’s embrace.
“Told him I’d ask. But don’t feel like you have to, okay, Doc?” Reluctantly, he pulled his head away from Doc’s chest, looking up at him. The older man gave him an earnest smile, reaching up to cup his cheek. Marty leaned into the touch, sighing softly and allowing his eyes to close again.
“I don’t mind, Marty, as long as it isn’t making that boy take further advantage of you.” Marty snorted softly, cracking his eyes open to lock with Doc’s.
“If anything Doc, he’s taking advantage of you .” He yawned then, leaning his face back against Doc’s chest, still embracing him tightly. Doc’s fingers returned to his spine, tracing up and down in a soothing manner, Marty finding himself growing drowsy again. He didn’t want to think about Needles anymore. The only person he cared about right now was Doc. "We should go back to bed, Doc…” The words were muffled against the older man’s chest, but Marty knew he could hear. “...'m still tired."
"I can tell." He could hear the smile in Doc's voice, and Marty pulled back again, taking in the older man's brilliant grin. "Come on, Future Boy." Then, slowly, Doc blinked, eyes drifting to Marty’s shirt, expression softening, taking on an almost bewildered look. "You're wearing my shirt..."
Somehow, this was more embarrassing than being called out for wearing Doc’s clothes by Needles, and Marty grinned sheepishly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, averting his gaze.
"Yeah, I, uh, couldn't find my clothes fast enough to answer the door, so..."
A calloused hand cupped his cheek, and Marty looked up to see a familiar expression of adoration in Doc's eyes. There was that fluttering in his chest again, reminding Marty once again how much he absolutely, positively loved this wild-eyed, eccentric, white-haired scientist, social norms be damned.
"You can keep it if you’d like…it suits you, Marty." His smile was so achingly genuine, and Marty felt the heat return to his face, allowing himself to lean into Doc's gentle touch. He knew the shirt didn’t look good on him. But it was Doc’s , and Doc wanted him to have it, and that knowledge alone was enough for him to want to never let it out of his sight. Doc’s thumb caressing his cheek, Marty smiled, still feeling a bit embarrassed.
"Okay, sure…Whatever you say, Doc."
The older man's thumb still trailing his cheek, Marty couldn't keep the smile from splitting across his face, reaching up to place his own hand overtop of Doc's, interlacing their fingers together with a gentle squeeze, eyes drifting shut again, drowsiness mixing with a different type of hazy peacefulness, a flurry of thoughts on the tip of his tongue.
I love you; you're my everything, Doc; I just want to stay here in this quiet bubble with you forever, I love you ...
But none of those came out, instead, merely a sigh escaped as he turned his face to press a gentle kiss to Doc's palm before pulling away, happy to see a slight flush was dotting the older man's complexion as well. He kept Doc’s fingers interlaced with his, giving his hand a tug. "Come on, Doc. It's still early. Let's go back to bed."
There was no coy undertone, no sexual intentions, not this time. Right now, all Marty wanted was to curl up in bed with the man he loved, to be comfortable, warm, and safe in Doc's arms.
Not waiting for a response, Marty released his lover’s hand, slowly taking off towards the bedroom, toes hitting a purple piece of fabric as he made his way across the cool floor. “There they are!” He reached down for his found underwear, quickly swapping the uncomfortable blue jeans for the much softer fabric of his underwear. Glancing at the shirt quickly, he couldn’t find it in his heart to take it off, not when he could still see the adoration in Doc’s eyes when he realized that Marty was wearing his clothes.
Instead, he just undid the buttons before pressing his face to the pillow, letting out a pleased groan. "Doc, I swear you have the most comfortable bed I've ever been in...even better than that fancy one in 2015..." He heard a quiet laugh as the bed shifted beside him, but he didn't bother to open his eyes.
"Well, I personally preferred the beds in 2015, but I'm glad you're comfortable, Marty." Marty felt a rush of air as blankets were pulled over his body, and he didn't even need to see to move, his body instinctively knowing where to find Doc's warmth, blindly seeking out his lips and kissing him gently. The older man reciprocated immediately, hands finding gentle purchase in Marty's hair, Marty reaching up to grasp at the collar of Doc's pajama shirt, gasping softly.
Marty knew, as he always knew when they kissed, that he would never, ever , get tired of this. He could never get tired of how heat circled his skull when Doc's lips were pressed against his; he could never get tired of the mild thrumming pleasure that buzzed through his veins whenever they were like this.
Tugging at the older man's shirt, he allowed his mouth to fall open, gently pressing his tongue into Doc's mouth, a smile lining his lips at the shudder and quiet sigh that drew from the older man. That was another thing that he'd never grow tired of. He’d never get tired of making Doc feel good, of being the one to make Doc feel good.
His eyelids were growing heavier as he deepened the kiss, rolling onto his back and tugging Doc closer, closer, closer, until the older man's large body was pressing him into the mattress, only further fueling the serene heat that was flooding Marty's body. He could only lean into Doc's large hands as they moved from where they were threaded in Marty's hair to rest against his face. Marty let out another sound, unwilling to classify it as a whimper, even though there was no denying that was what it was, leaning in to fully embrace the kiss for a final few seconds, mind a lazy buzz of pleasure.
But after a few more serene moments, Doc pulled away, leaving both men panting, breaths mingling, dual smiles lining their faces. Wordlessly, Marty reached up to grasp a fistful of hair at the back of Doc's head, pressing their foreheads together, unable to suppress a soft laugh when their noses clashed. Marty knew he would never get tired of this either. He would never get tired of Doc.
Much to his humiliation, Marty's body chose that moment to yawn again, drawing an affectionate laugh from Doc, punctuated by a delicate kiss to the corner of the younger man's mouth. "Get some sleep, Marty..."
Marty nodded, the bed shifting again as Doc lay back against his own pillow, Marty immediately tucking his head under Doc's chin, inhaling another breath of the man's static scent, nuzzling against his neck. He could feel the smile on Doc's face as he shifted to press a gentle kiss to Marty's hair, arm wrapping around him and pulling him close, the tips of his fingers brushing against the skin of Marty's back where his shirt had ridden up. Marty smiled, reciprocating the kiss with one to the crook of Doc's neck, reaching with his free hand to intertwine their unoccupied fingers together.
In a familiar action, he moved their joined hands to shelter them in between his and Doc's chests. He felt another yawn escape, burying his face deeper into the older man's neck as he curled up fully against him, allowing that familiar feeling of safety to wash over him. Sleep was calling to him again, and he was feeling ready to answer.
"Love you, Doc..." He murmured quietly, lips brushing against Doc's neck as he spoke, smile on his face widening as Doc's hand moved further up his spine, rough pads of his fingers running over his skin as he pulled Marty closer, voice warm and full of content.
"I love you too, Marty...now rest." The hand that was interlaced with Doc's was given a delicate squeeze, before he felt Doc relax as well, the stillness of the usually so active man drawing Marty back into the familiar lull of sleep, one drowsy thought circling his mind as he listened to the familiar sound of Doc's breathing, warm in their comfortable bed, surrounded by their little bubble of safety and peace.
I will never get used to you, Doc...I love you, I love you, I love you...