sing me to sleep [warren worthington iii]
so this is slightly (slightly) mature but really it’s not eugh also sorry sorry sorry if anyone didn’t get tagged tumblr hates me
damn me back at it again combining requests
‘you kill me with your angst. some happy warren please?’
‘warren + 4 from your prompt list please’
‘8 + warren please and thank you💙’
‘ok so i’m taking french as my elective and it would be Super™ Cool™ if you could do 12 and 13 from the drunk friend prompt list and warren worthington iii please and thank you my friend
and various others idk i forget
You know you’ve crossed that line into ‘too late’ when ‘The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air’ re-runs start playing, and a quick glance at the clock reveals that it is 4:56.
At least Scott and Jean have stopped making noise next door, though you’re not sure that’s really a good thing. A knock on your door cuts off your train of thought, and you open the door to Warren, biting his lip nervously, wings fluttering a little.
“Can I help you?”
He grins a little sheepishly.
“Well, you’ve probably heard that they’ve stopped talking in there,” he gestures to Scott’s room, “and while I’d normally be pleased they’ve shut up, my bed is kind of in there, so I was just wondering if I could maybe sleep on your floor?”
You concentrate hard, in an attempt to keep the blush off your face. The boy you like, for fucks sake, just asked if he could sleep in your room. Praise every known deity. Looking at your thoughtful expression, he quickly backtracks.
“I mean, uh, it’s fine if not, I could probably ask Peter, it’s just you’re closer? And-“
“Warren, calm down, its fine, you can sleep here. I’ve got some pillows you can borrow if you want.”
With that, you let him past you, following him back into your room and shutting the door behind you. Throwing him some pillows, you disappear into the bathroom to change into something vaguely sleep wear like, just in case you manage to get any sleep that night. When you come back, rubbing your eyes tiredly, Warren is lying on the floor, staring up at your ceiling.
“That ceiling’s real interesting, huh?”
Jumping at the sound of your voice, Warren props himself up on one elbow, and a full blush overtakes his face as he takes you in. You wink at him, and his elbow falls out from underneath him. When he looks up at you, his face is a whole new shade of red. Smiling a little to yourself, you make your way over to the bed, patting the space next you.
“C'mon, weirdo, we’re watching the amazing world of Sharknado.”
“There are many ways to describe that film. ‘Amazing’ is not one of them.”
“Hang on, I, I know that word. Wait, did you just call me a dickbag in french?”
“Wow, and here I was thinking we were friends,” he says, sliding onto the bed next to you.
“Can I?” he says nervously, gesturing to the bed, and you assume he means can he get under the covers (though to be honest you want him under you). Needless to say, you’re a little surprised when he loops an arm around your waist, pulling you close, and so you subconsciously place your hand in his hair, carding your fingers through his hair gently.“I like it when you touch my hair. It’s…nice.”
Warren thinks that he might explode. He had not expected you to let him on the bed, let alone cuddle you, and now you’re stroking his hair. Wow.
“Do you know what my favourite quote is?”
“And maybe if I stand in the rain, I’ll get wetter than any boy has ever made me.”
Warren chokes on nothing.A comfortable silence settles over the two of you, Warren’s head on your shoulder, your hand in his hair. Turning to ask him something, you realise just how close your faces are.
“Oh, jesus christ, burn me alive.”
“Huh, not usually a guy’s reaction in bed with me, but it’s original.”
Warren blushes for the third time that evening and shifts closer. You’re almost cross eyed because of how close you are. Something flashes in his eyes, and he cups your face with rough palms, and he kisses you softly, pulling you as close as possible.
His body against yours ignites something inside of you, a hunger, and you wrap your leg around his waist, pulling him closer still. When you finally break apart, your chest is heaving and Warren looks awestruck.
“I’m pretty glad Scott and Jean hijacked my room,” he says, and leans forward to kiss you once more.