Some nights were harder than others, but Clint never let on that he knew when Eames woke. He would roll over still pretending to be asleep and cuddled closer as if he was the needy one and would fall back asleep once Eames had. This time was a little different, the chip had been reached for, the tiny clack of it on the table and Eames moving closer roused the archer. He hummed and pressed a kiss to his lover’s head. “Eames you’re too hot, scoot over.” he teased, but wrapped his arms around the other tighter.
Christ it had been so real; the feeling of that day in Thailand, the images playing over and over in his head. Out of all the nightmares that had been plaguing him, that one was the worst. It was why he had to go for his totem. The instant Eames had woken up, for a split second, he felt like he was still in Thailand. Now that he knew he wasn’t, he needed Clint, needed the comfort that came with having the archer right there in bed with him. “M'sorry,” he muttered, pressing himself as close to the other as possible. He hated this, hated having Clint see him like this. But everything had changed since his return from being dead. Nightmares were now a thing he would have to deal with. And now so would the man who was currently holding him.
Having Clint run his hands through his hair was soothing; more so than just being held. Eames wasn’t about to tell him...
ahawkeyesview reblogged this from forgerextraordinaire and added: He held him close, running his fingers through his hair, trying to calm him. Clint knew how he felt after a nightmare...