The Manstress [EdwardxJacob]

A Step Forward 😊💕

Edward wakes in the middle of the night with a crick in his neck.

At first he's disoriented, blinking into the dark and slowly registering everything around him. The apartment is unfamiliar—or, no, that's not quite right. He knows this place, though not well. It's Jacob's apartment.

The large windows to his left flood the room with dim greyish light from outside, allowing him to make out the vague shapes of the furniture and doorways. Everything is slightly fuzzy around the edges in the gloom.

His neck aches, and as soon as he focuses on that sensation his whole body seems to voice its discomfort at once. His foot is twisted uncomfortably, his back bent strangely, his head crammed into the corner of the couch between the back and the armrest. His whole body is contorted as though he'd been sitting upright and simply tipped over onto his side in his sleep.

Most notable of all, however, is that he's being flattened into the couch by a body laying on top of his. His ribcage seems to find this especially offensive, as it twinges to remind him of how much weight has been on it for so long.

It's not hard for Edward to guess who exactly is on top of him. Jacob's face is tucked into his neck, his nose and lips pressed up against the column of his throat. His breath is warm on Edward's skin. And even though it's somewhat uncomfortable—Edward doesn't want to move. He doesn't want to lose this closeness. There's something about Jacob falling asleep on top of him, that vulnerability. The fact that he trusted Edward with it, someone he barely knows. It feels—fragile. And precious.

Edward brings up a hand to cradle the back of Jacob's head, and Jacob snuggles in closer, burying himself in Edward's warmth. Edward's heart flutters in his chest.

He should probably wake Jacob up. They're both still fully clothed, and in such an awkward position. They'll be sore and uncomfortable tomorrow morning if they sleep like this. But— Jacob looks so peaceful like this, curled around Edward like he's an oversized teddy bear. Edward can't bear to disturb him. Maybe it's alright if they're sore in the morning.

Maybe they can stay just like this.

—

Edward blinks awake in the early morning to the growl of a stomach. He squints into bright sunlight that slants in through the large windows of Jacob's living room as he tries to pinpoint the source of the noise.

Jacob stirs on top of him, making a small sound as he tries to burrow into Edward's shoulder. Edward finds himself smiling almost without realizing it. Jacob is adorable.

Edward wraps his arms a little tighter around Jacob, and says in a voice low and rough from sleep, "morning, sleepyhead."

Jacob jerks a little, like he hadn't quite realized Edward wasn't his mattress, and hits the top of his head on Edward's chin.

"Oof," Edward says, one arm cinching tighter around Jacob's waist to keep him from falling off the couch, the other hand coming up to rub his sore chin.

"Edward?" Jacob says quickly, "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"'S okay," Edward says, brushing off his apology, "Is your head okay?"

"Yeah, I mean—yeah, it's fine. Are you sure you're okay? I didn't mean to—" He's sitting up now, carefully, peering at Edward as though inspecting him to confirm his wellbeing.

"I'm fine, don't worry about it," Edward chuckles.

Chuckles. And it shouldn't feel so monumental, just laughing without having to try, but to Edward it is. After the shitty two months he's had, it's a fucking miracle. It stops him cold in his tracks, the realization that before yesterday, he can't remember the last time he laughed. Really laughed, not the polite kind of laugh that feels hollow.