Sleepy Bois Turnabout?

Betrayal

Tommy snuggled into his sheets. He wasn't asleep, not fully anyway, just happily enjoying his blanket and soft bed. He was supposed to have done something a while ago but he didn't care enough to remember what right now. His hair was still damp and that, along with the house's general chill (he swore his dad would just live in Antarctica if he could), made him shiver.

His head was cold, his pillow was cozy, he'd laid down to warm up, and now he could vaguely tell that too much time had passed for something he had been asked to do but had thought "I'll do in a minute."

It was well after "a minuet" by now, but, no one had come in to yell at him yet so he decided to just enjoy as much of this not-sleep as possible.

He rolled over, pulling his blanket tighter around him until he was a snug little burrito.

Yes. This was great. God, he was so fucking comfortable . Hell yeah.

He shifted again to bring his knees closer to his chest; he wanted to curl up so hard he disappeared into a little ball of blankets. He rolled another layer into his blanket only to-

"AHHH!"

-end up on the floor.

Tommy laid there for a moment (upside-down, still halfway wrapped in his blanket) to give his heart a moment to stop pounding. Ow. Fucking ow. He was awake now at least. Kind of. He began to shuffle (struggle) out of his cocoon which now felt more like a prison than cozy. How the hell did blankets even end up like this? He swore something had tied them around his ankles.

"Tommy? Are you okay?" A voice shouted from downstairs. Philza. He'd probably heard the bang from the fall.

"Uh- YEAH! I'm fine!"

He began to untangle himself faster. Shoot. He needed to do that thing before Phil came upstairs. That- uh- that thing he needed to do. What... what was it again? His eyes darted around his room, trying to pick up a detail that might remind him. He wasn't late for anything, right? No, he was pretty sure it was a chore.

He needed to- ah. His eyes fell on the pajamas he was wearing. He needed to hang up his wet clothes. He stood up and started to run towards the bathroom but apparently he hadn't untangled his blanket all the way. He hadn't even made one step before his foot got caught and he was sent crashing down... again... right onto his bruised arm.

"OOWWW."

HOLY SHIT THAT HURT. Ugh, he'd slammed his jaw into the carpet and his braces bracket had cut into his gums. He was lucky he hadn't broken his nose (or his neck for that matter). Ow!

"Ow, ow, ow, FUCK."

He crawled to his feet and began limping, trying to walk it off. He still had to do his stupid chore, anyway.

" Uh, are you SURE you're okay?" Phil called again from the bottom of the stairwell.

Tommy didn't answer, opting to just get to his destination but hadn't taken into account the fact he needed to go by the stairs to get to the bathroom. As he limped past them he didn't even bother to look at Phil, focusing on getting into the bathroom, but could hear the laughter begin as soon as his back was turned.

Really, it's like they thought just because he wasn't looking at them he couldn't hear.

Tommy's clothes were in a pile on the floor, still soaked. He picked them up and began slinging them over the shower bar to dry. They were still fucking freezing to the touch.

He couldn't believe how quickly it had started poring or his luck, being caught in the middle of it. On one hand, he guessed he should be grateful he was so close to home but on the other hand, he got caught in the middle of a damn hailstorm. Okay, it was mostly rain, and the hail that was there was small, light, and harmless, but still.