Chuck || Motorcity

[dieharder]

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Prompt: Morning routine it is!

[livefaster]

[There was no sun shining brightly against his face to make him wake up.

There was no sound to interrupt his sleep.

There was simply nothing there that could really awaken Mike then, so he turns in his bed, rests his back against the wall it's set against, and tugs the body pillow closer to him. It's warm.

He likes warmth.]

[dieharder]

[Said pillow squirms in his sleep, which probably is a good sign that it isn't, in fact, a pillow.

It's not enough to completely wake Chuck up from his sleep though; they did end up falling asleep very late, even for Chuck's standards. He whines a little, scooting back on the bed and closer to Mike, lazily trying to tug the covers up a little.]

[livefaster]

[It is, in fact, warmer under the covers, so Mike scoots a little lower, burying his nose into the cotton of the case - or, in this case, of Chuck's shirt - and the rest of his body into the shelter and heat.

The squirm was foreign, and so was the whine, but he pays little mind to it.

Not when he was sleeping so soundly.]

[dieharder]

[Mike's nose against his back draws a tiny noise out of Chuck, one that would have been a giggle if he wasn't yawning and muffling his own mouth against the covers.]

Mikeyy... [Chuck whines again, eyes still closed as he swats a hand back at Mike, without any effort or motivation to it whatsoever.]

[livefaster]

[His name is enough to wake him up. He can endure sounds and abstract noise but his name was something that always brought him back to surface, no matter how soft it's uttered.

He opens his eyes to find a lean back flaring into wide shoulders and himself surrounded with the warmth of the bed and Chuck's scent.

Well.

That feels like home.

He stretches, poking his head under the covers and setting his back against the wall again - oh. cold.]

Hey, Chuckles.

[dieharder]

[Same can't be said about Chuck, who, at the mention of his name, just drags himself further down under the covers, turning so that he's lying on his stomach but at the same time facing Mike.

He yawns and rubs his eyes, but doesn't open them just yet. He likes this sleepy state, right before he wakes up fully, when he can only feel the warmth coming from the other body, toes touching his feet just barely.]

Morning.

[livefaster]

[Mike rubs his cheek against the pillow, grinning sleepily.
] G'morning.

[His foot wiggles against Chuck's toes. He looks visibly content: It's a rare moment when he has to relax with his friend like this, even if they spend so much time together.

They were worry-free, for the moment.] Sleep well?

[dieharder]

Wasn't done... [But then you decided I was a pillow so I guess much can't be done now, right?

Very reluctantly, he opens his eyes to look at Mike with a sigh. His vision is blurry and his voice is drowsy, but it's alright. No matter for how little or how long, he always sleeps well when it's in Mike's room. Like he's some kind of cuddly dreamcatcher that keeps nightmares at bay. (He thinks of the cuddling as an added bonus, so no complaints on that either.)]

But yeah, I did. You?

[livefaster]

[Another stretch, or hunch, as he makes the muscles of his shoulders tense and extend for a moment with a sigh.] My bad.

[Hooking an arm under the pillow, he smiles a little wider at the reply. It worried him that Chuck didn't get much sleep lately, especially when he needs it the most. His brain went through miles an hour every single day, and really, such an overworked head should rest.

He's glad he found at least some tranquility here.] Me, too.

[dieharder]

Can we just not get out of here. Ever. [He offers, muffled from behind the covers. It's not like it's cold outside, but the air still feels unpleasant against his hand and the exposed half of his head.]

Let's just skip a day. Whatever, I'm sure the others wouldn't notice. [He groans a bit, rubs his nose against the pillow and lets his face bury into the fabric.]

[livefaster]

Not sure about tha--[a yawn, the laziest of yawns ever to be seen in Mike Chilton's face. He laughs at the strength of it when it's done, eyebrows arching]. You promised Julie you'd work on her cloning system, right?

[Not that he'd really mind staying there, either. Chuck looked really comfortable there, and as much as Mike throws him off that area, to see him so happy in it kind of makes him want to let him stay there.] But I think we can stay for a couple more hours.

[dieharder]

I did... [He sorta wants to kick himself for that promise right then. Instead he covers himself up completely, only leaving strands of blond hair to rest over the pillow. He nods and replies, again slurred and yawned out, from under the bedsheets.]

Great idea, Mike. Liking that plan. Let's... Yeahhhmmm.

[livefaster]

[He reaches to tug lightly at the strands slipping out from the covers.] Pretty sure she isn't in a hurry, though.

[He drapes his arm on the bundle that is Chuck's form underneath the covers. He at least hopes that there won't be any alarms any time soon.] Think you can sleep a bit more?

Prompt: A bobble head in mortal peril - no really it's just an excuse

[livefaster]

[There's a slight feeling just beneath his skin of small pokes, nerve endings sending electrical signals up to his spine and then crawling up his brain to tell him just how hard he had been pressing on those pedals he was sure Mutt had a dent beneath the metal from all his weight. His knees snapped at every movement, joints lubricating with effort and asking for some rest at every twist and turn, not needing to fold to make their presence known. There's an itch under his sternum that Mike knows won't fade any time soon, and that he'll have some trouble falling asleep until it's subdued.

Still he leaves the bathroom, his usual t-shirt and boxers on, towel wrapped around his neck after giving his head a violent rub dry, with the idea that they left a bit of his and Chuck's life in the crash site, and what lingered on them was, like snakes that grow out of their skin, scales that protected them better, that shielded them both into invincibility...

... while making them perfectly aware of how frail a human life is.

Still, the sweat and the grit went down the drain a few minutes before, and he felt he left that mere idea outside, beyond his bedroom door, where the lights were still buzzing to life and colored everything they reached, away from the dark air of the room where Chuck waited, probably drying his hair a bit better.

For the time being he just wanted to be with his best friend. He smiles.] Tired?

hehehehe /)u(\

[dieharder]

[Somehow, no matter on how many of these situations they find themselves in, Chuck always finds something new, freshly terrifying in each one of them, whether it's the feel of the dents in the road, the kind of growl Mutt did, or the tension in Mike's muscles whenever he clings to his arm, so tight that sometimes, afterwards when they're counting cuts and wounds (Chuck's the only one counting; Mike pretends they don't matter), he'd wonder if that bruise was a result of the crash or the way his fingers pressed too tight even through the fabric of the jacket.

It wears off, though. The wave of panic washes off exponentially with each deep, loud breath he takes right after he stumbles his way out of the car, and the layer of sweat, fear, ash and the realization they scraped too close to the line yet again, goes down the drain along with the tepid shower water.

As he waits for Mike to come back, he watches Mutt, the bobblehead they brought into the room with them (the car is wrecked again, but they would fix that later), her nose bouncing up and down with just a flick of Chuck's fingers. He sighs, but still smiles a little, not caring to dry his hair yet, a towel just stretched over the pillow under his head.

He glances towards the door as it opens, stretching his arms and legs a little with a yawn.]

A little. [He's more relieved than tired, honestly, and it's apparent in the way he rolls to rest on his back, a little restless. He can recognize, even if he doesn't get the same kick out of it that Mike does, remnants of adrenaline still travelling through him.] But I think one of these days I'm just gonna lose my voice.

[livefaster]

[The smile grows into a full grin, and he reaches behind him to rub at the dampness behind his hair, where his hair grew fuller and it was slower to dry.

He sits down on the bed next to Chuck, looking at the bobblehead on the bedside table.] That's alright. We can send Mutt to fetch it when that happens. Right? Whossa good girl?

[He pats Mutt on the head very lightly, just enough to make its head tilts sideways as if it were a real dog, reacting to its owner's cooing. He moves his weight onto his wrists, and the strain on his shoulders is immediately noticeable to Mike. They could really use some rest.]

I'm still too awake, but we should try and catch some z's. Otherwise we'll be way too tired tomorrow.

[dieharder]

[Chuck snorts, forcing himself into sitting up and grabbing his towel to dry his hair properly.]

Because that would work and all. [He says it in a mocking tone, though the mental image amuses him a little. He shakes his head, though it's almost imperceptible from under the towel draped over his head. After a few rubs he drops it down to his shoulders, heaving them down with a sigh.]

Yeah, try... [He doesn't sound too sure, though. He knows he won't get any sleep anytime soon, not while his mind is still going too fast, his muscles too tense and too tired to even try to keep up with it. But he'll be able to stay quiet and let Mike get some needed rest. Chuck could function just fine with few hours of sleep anyway.]

[livefaster]

[Mike knows this, along with his sleeping schedules, habits and patterns, Mike knows how Chuck works and how he ticks, so he merely nods. He still thinks he could try, there was nothing to lose from that, but he figures that if anything, they could just slip under the covers and talk until the words were mutters, the replies were only hums, and then a snore or two from the both of them.

How many times have they fallen asleep like that, anyway?

He reaches for Chuck's shoulders, grabs the towel and rubs it gently on Chuck's head, like many times he's done before. It's fun, like giving him a friendly noogie, but one with a more useful function other than playfulness.]

[dieharder]

[Chuck lowers his head without resistance, though he adds in a muffled voice.]

It's fine, Mikey... I think it's all dry by now.

[But it's barely muttered, and then he hums contentedly, closing his eyes and just enjoying that particularly tiny moment, and the way Mike's fingers press over the towel and against sore spots on Chuck's skull and neck.]

[livefaster]

[He grins, keeps rubbing, focusing on his scalp rather than the ends of his hair, which would probably be the dampest parts by then.

When he's done, he chuckles, pulls the towel down onto his face and rubs it there, just enough to get his cheeks moving.]

[dieharder]

[It drags a quiet giggle out of him, and Mike's movements squish Chuck's cheeks together until he looks like a really weird and apparently long-haired fish.]

Miiiiikey... [He pinches Mike's cheeks in retaliation, laughing loudly at the weird expression he manages to set on Mike's face by just doing that. He wonders if he looks just as silly, if not more.]

[livefaster]

Yes, Chuck--le... [The chuckle grows into a laugh, and Mike pulls lightly at Chuck's nose and cheek at the same time, then presses the skin of his cheek upwards to make another weird face.

He sticks his tongue out, making his own even worse.]

[dieharder]

Pffffffft--

[The sound turns into a snort, and then into a chuckle, and he crosses his eyes in response (glad his hair is falling back on his head instead of covering his face as usual), exaggerating his own facial expression to match up to Mike's. Then he takes one hand from Mike's face to cover his own mouth as he laughs at the silly of it all, and at the both of them.]

[livefaster]

[He laughs louder, crawls over the bed to his usual side while pushing Chuck's by the face - always gentle and with the familiarity of childhood friends - to lay back down again. The towel is forgotten somewhere, and he keeps snickering until he rests on his stomach on the mattress.]

[dieharder]

[Chuck follows, laying back down where he'd been before, turned to the side so that he's facing Mike. He combs his hair away from under his cheek, shivering a little at the cold feeling they'd given him just then.

He's not even a little tired yet. But he could swear he felt the tension slip away from his shoulders, run down his arms and leave him, settling somewhere else in the room, in one of the dark corners that never matter whenever him and Mike are together.

He sighs, curling up a little because he's only wearing his boxers and a large t-shirt he took from Mike's drawer at random - he didn't even bother to steal a pair of Mike's socks along with it.]