Archive of Our Own ^beta

Wrench does not have a very consistent sleep schedule.

He has a tendency to stay awake for two or three days at a time, no matter how much his body tries to tell him that it’s time for rest. There are days where he’ll only sleep an hour here and there, not nearly enough to rest fully but enough to keep him going for a while. There are days where when he does sleep, it’s while he’s in his mask and in his everyday clothes, always ready to spring out of bed if someone were to call for him for whatever reason. The combination of his heavy and pointy vest and his mask and, on some nights, his chest binder, this does not ever equate to a good night’s sleep.

He doesn’t want to admit it, but there are times where Wrench just does not feel safe enough to sleep through the night.

Marcus wants to do anything he can to help.

They’ve been together for a few months when he pieces it all together, making a comment about how Wrench seems to run on adrenaline and energy drinks, to which Wrench rolls his eyes and shoves him with his shoulder. Marcus can see it in the way he carries himself, how his body looks run down and hunched over and exhausted on more days than it doesn’t. Marcus wants to grab him and pull him into bed and help him sleep, no matter what that means.

Wrench comes home one night earlier than expected, about a week into starting to live with Marcus. They moved into this stage relatively quickly, but Wrench had already been casually staying at Marcus’ apartment more nights than not, even before they were together. It was only natural that Wrench started to officially live there when they officially started dating.

Marcus picks his head up at the sound of the door opening, tearing his gaze away from whatever corny, low budget sci-fi movie was on television. He smiles at Wrench, “Hey babe.”

“Hey,” Wrench replies, and Marcus can hear how tired he is in his voice, how quiet he speaks. He watches him as Wrench walks into the living room and removes his mask like he has a hundred times before, sets it on the side table, in arm’s reach if he were to suddenly need it. He shucks his vest off and tosses it onto the armchair next to the couch, before going in to settle next to Marcus.

Marcus makes a peculiar look at him before he sits down, and then gestures with his chin towards the bedroom. Wrench looks at him with wide eyes, wiggles his eyebrows a little bit, before Marcus groans. “Go change,” Marcus says with an undeniably fond smile.

Wrench rolls his eyes but it doesn’t cover up the affection in his voice when he tells him, “Yes, Mom,” and goes into the other room to remove his binder; Marcus knows he’s been wearing it all day, maybe even longer, the bastard.

While he’s gone, Marcus can set up the couch for him to relax a little bit, laying a blanket on the far end and moving himself to the other end so Wrench can stretch out a little bit. He wants him to at least rest, even if he can’t get any sleep tonight. He’ll never fault Wrench for not being able to sleep, he’ll only do what he can to help.

Wrench comes out of the bedroom a moment later, dressed down and comfortable in one of Marcus’ hoodies. He’s always stolen his clothes, even before they started living together. He always justified it by saying that if Marcus didn’t want his clothes stolen then he should stop making them smell like him. Marcus would never argue back, he loves seeing Wrench in his clothes. It sparks something inside of him that makes him want to kiss him until they’re both dumb.

“Happy?” Wrench asks with a soft smile on his face, turning around the couch to join him.

“Very,” Marcus says, raising his one arm over the back of the couch so Wrench can settle in. Wrench likes to sit next to Marcus and lay into him, whether it’s in his lap or against his shoulder or, like now, pressed into his side with Marcus’ arm over his shoulder, pulling him in closer.

Wrench feels very vulnerable in moments like this, in clothing that’s not something he’d be seen wearing outside, with his mask off and his hood down, allowing himself to become so close to someone who was practically a stranger a little more than a year ago. Now, Wrench happily shows his boyfriend off, throwing himself all over him and happily bragging to everyone who he comes into contact with that the Retr0 is his boyfriend.

He feels at home like this, with Marcus’ arm over his shoulders, his fingers toying with the hair that’s gotten just a little bit too long, and he feels like he’s at peace.

“You look exhausted,” Marcus says out loud when he glances down and sees Wrench trying to watch TV through half shut eyes.

Wrench laughs, looks up at him, “What gave that away?” As if on cue, Wrench’s voice breaks around a yawn.

They don’t need crazy conversation, Marcus won’t ask a lot of questions about Wrench’s day, not yet at least. He just wants Wrench to relax. He knows the constant socialization of the day gets Wrench more exhausted than usual, having to constantly think about what he’s gonna say next in fear of saying something wrong. Even with the mask on, the mask that he hails as the savior of his social life, he still gets exhausted having to talk to so many people.

Marcus’ hand has moved from playing with the ends of Wrench’s hair to being carded through the back of it, essentially petting his head. He doesn’t know how he does it, but Wrench’s hair is always so soft, so fun to pet and to play with. He loves doing it, and he knows Wrench loves it from the content little sigh that comes out of his mouth when his fingers run back and forth over his scalp and the back of his head.

They sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, before Marcus glances down at Wrench, only to see that his eyes have fluttered shut. He freezes his movements for a moment, not wanting to disturb him, but that makes him stir a little. He presses closer to Marcus, arms crossed over his chest, and presses his head up a little bit. Marcus resumes petting his hair, and he goes back to being a bit more still.

Holy shit.

Marcus takes a second to watch him as he dozes off. He looks so peaceful, finally finding rest for the first time in a few days. He watches the rise and fall of his chest, watches the side of his face that isn’t buried in his side; he would sit here forever if it meant Wrench would be able to rest like this. Seeing his boyfriend so at peace isn’t a bad part of the deal either. Marcus can’t help but stare, he’s just so goddamn beautiful.

It’s a few more minutes before he brushes Wrench’s hair behind his ear, and pauses a little when he makes a noise, fearing that he woke him up. The noise ends up being a quiet snore, and Marcus nearly punches his fist into the air in excitement. He’s asleep.

Wrench looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world, and he shouldn’t, not right now at least. He looks like he doesn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders for once, allowing himself to shed it or at least share it. He should just rest, he should sleep and let Marcus take care of him. Marcus wants to take care of him.

They’re like this for a while, Marcus isn’t exactly sure. A few episodes of The Twilight Zone have played on television in the background, but Marcus can’t tear his gaze from his boyfriend. He feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest at the sight of him so relaxed, so at peace. He looks like he feels safe. Marcus is proud of him for that.

Wrench has a tendency to accidentally overshare without thinking about it, and has shared in confidence with Marcus that he has nightmares a lot about being found and taken by the FBI again, and having it turn out worse than it did the first time. A time of rest is not a peaceful time for him, it’s a time filled with worry, and the less of it he does, the less time he thinks he has to worry. Marcus wants to protect him, let him feel safe.

He thinks he’s doing a good job of that right now.

Wrench stirs a little bit, and only then does Marcus glance down at his phone, spending much of the time focused on his boyfriend and sparing glances at the television. They’ve been laying like this for two or three hours, Wrench curled up into him, and Marcus only now feels the minor discomfort from his wrist from the repetitive motions of petting his hair. It’s so goddamn worth it though. He leans down and presses the softest kiss to the top of Wrench’s head, and he doesn’t want to toot his own horn, but he swears he sees a little smile on Wrench’s face that wasn’t there before.

He knows this position is only going to hurt his back more than it already does, so he tries to work into waking him up. He doesn’t want to wake him up fully, only enough to move him from the couch to the bedroom, to lay him down so he can get into a comfortable position so he doesn’t regret falling asleep and waking up with a backache. He feels horrible even considering waking him, he feels like he’s moving an animal after they choose you and fall asleep in your lap. He’s not a monster.

He nudges Wrench gently and whispers, voice soft like rain on a roof to break through Wrench’s mind, “Come on Reggie, baby, let’s get to bed.”

Wrench makes a sleepy noise, something that Marcus can only call a whine, and he wants to kiss him so bad he feels crazy for it. Wrench presses his head closer to him, moving a bit from his side to his chest, and nuzzling his blond hair against his shirt. Marcus decides at that moment that he would kill someone for this man if Wrench asked him to.

“Gonna hurt your back more, baby,” Marcus tries to tell him, but Wrench just gently shakes his head against his chest, refusing to move. Marcus nearly caves and gives up on his attempts right there.

Marcus thinks through his options. He thinks he has three.

His first option is to slip out from under Wrench, lay a pillow down so Wrench has something comfortable to lay on, and then go to bed himself. He can cover him with a blanket and Wrench can sleep on the couch tonight. Wrench’s back will throb in the morning, or he’ll be too stiff to move off of the couch. There’s also the idea that Wrench could wake up in the middle of the night alone on the couch. Marcus throws that idea away.

His second option is to stay on the couch with him, to not disturb him at all and to eventually doze off himself, arm around Wrench and Wrench nestled against him. This is a good idea and all, but Marcus really doesn’t want Wrench’s back to hurt in the morning, and the half sitting up, half lying down position they’re in right now will kill him. He crumbles up the idea and tosses it.

His third option is to pick Wrench up and carry him to bed. This might wake him up a little, but he can move quickly and quietly so as to not disturb him too much. He can lay him down in bed, Wrench can reposition himself comfortably in whatever position feels best, and Marcus can join him in bed. It’s not like he’s never picked Wrench up, he’s done it a lot (much to Wrench’s enjoyment) so he knows he can do it.

He rules that option three has the best possible outcome if he does it properly.

He starts to slowly slip his way out from under Wrench, pushing him gently off of him as he moves, and Wrench doesn’t react much other than a little confused noise at the sudden movement. Marcus starts to mumble a little bit, “Shh, it’s okay, not going anywhere, baby.”

Thank God that Wrench threw his legs up onto the couch, it makes it a hell of a lot easier to tuck his arm under his knees and his other arm over his back to pick him up. Wrench makes another noise at being hoisted into the air, eyes cracking open the slightest bit, only to look up and see that it’s Marcus. He gently closes his eyes again.

Wrench reaches up and wraps his arms around Marcus’ neck as he gains his footing, arms loosely hanging and burying his head into his neck to block out light and to fall back to sleep. Marcus feels something bubble up in his chest, something that makes him feel like a protector, and he realizes just how safe Wrench must feel in this moment. He tightens his grip on Wrench, feeling the need to make sure he knows he’s safe, and that he’d never let go.

“You’re really strong,” Wrench mumbles, and it’s half slurred from sleep, half muffled from where his mouth is buried, “feel like ‘m a princess being swept off by a prince.”

Marcus laughs a little, and Wrench can feel the vibration of it against him and it makes him laugh a little too. Wrench must still be half asleep, ready to doze back off at any moment, any sort of filter he has between his brain and his mouth becoming relatively non-existent at this point. “Well, princess,” Marcus starts, and Wrench laughs again, the noise muffled but Marcus can feel the warmth of his breath and face on his skin, “maybe you’re just really scrawny.”

“Fuck you,” Wrench mumbles, but Marcus can feel him still smiling against him.

Even when he’s half asleep, he’s still got that Wrench bite to him.

Marcus nudges the door open with his foot, walking sideways so he doesn’t bump himself or Wrench into the wall or the doorway. He walks over to the bed and gently lays Wrench down on top of the comforter, who then immediately takes shelter underneath the warm blanket. Marcus watches him snuggle into it, and Wrench mumbles without opening his eyes, “Gonna join me?”

Marcus doesn’t go back to fully shut the bedroom door.

He climbs into bed, the weight dipping and Wrench moving towards him as quickly as he can. He takes his favorite sleeping position as soon as Marcus is fully in bed; his arms around Marcus’ neck, his legs around Marcus’ waist, and his face in Marcus’ neck. “Not going anywhere,” Marcus repeats, and Wrench makes a happy noise against him.

Marcus’ hand goes back into Wrench’s hair, this time just twirling the longer than usual strands between his fingers. “Thank you,” Wrench mumbles, pressing his face closer to muffle his words more, but Marcus makes it out, “feel safe.”

Marcus kisses his head, unable to find the response to something like that. It’s something so simple that he can always do, but it’s something that means so much to Wrench. Marcus would jump to do this again for him.

He loves him. He adores him.

Marcus plays with his hair for a few minutes more, making sure that Wrench stays comfortable even though they moved settings and changed positions. He wants to keep up with playing with his hair, not only did it help Wrench relax, but it’s doing the same thing for him. He’s struggling to keep his own eyes open, and he feels Wrench’s breathing even out and he hears the little snores starting to fall from his lips.

“Goodnight, Wrench,” Marcus whispers to him, but Wrench is already fast asleep. Marcus is not far behind him.