Work Text:
He's not not awake, but he's not not sleeping, either. There's nothing he has to do anymore today, and physically he's all tired out, but he still feels restless, something keeps him staring at the wall through forty-percent-lidded eyes even though his book is on the nightstand, shut. The tassel of its place-marker falls out and drapes like a tail. He traces the line in his mind without moving.
Door to his room clicks open.
For a second, his shoulders tense, but then he hears it, someone humming, and when it crawls up his ears to his brain his body says, sureokaythat'sfine and turns back into languid putty.
He's lying on his side. Fingers trail down the arm laid on top of the covers. The humming is close now, low and nearly tuneless. He can feel it in his own chest.
Feels the covers pull back, shifting over his ribs, a faint chill at his back. A weight dips the mattress. Gravity pulls him that way, and he doesn't fight it, lets himself roll maybe six or seven degrees until two bodies meet.
"Mm," says the person behind him. It ends in a lilt, almost a giggle. A hand smooths over his side to his chest, settles its arm there. A face presses against the back of his neck.
It's cold.
All along his back, pressed up against him, it's cold.
Wait. No, it's not. It's-
"Baby?"
"Mm-hmm?"
"Why'reya wet?"