There’s no excuse for this. Gratuitous sexting. I may have made Tom a wee bit more forward/sadistic a little maybe. I don’t know. This is just a thing that happened. Listening to Digital Getdown is not required but perhaps may make this a slightly more hilarious read (yeah, I went there. What’re you gonna do). This piece of crap is also for Lindsey because I said so. As usual, no beta and sorry if there are mistakes.
ALSO!!! To easier tell the difference between who is texting what, Tom’s are always in italics! (AO3 link - ngl better formatting for the actual texts!!)
It’s late. That sort of late that could be early if one looked at the clock in a different light. But, when Chris looked at the clock it was late.
At first, he wasn’t sure what jolted him awake, thinking it had just been a crazy dream and his subconscious was more alert than he’d thought—jostling him awake before anything bad happened. But, then his phone buzzed on the nightstand, alerting him that no, his slumber had been interrupted by an outside source.
He knows who it is before he even picks it up. Instinctively. Perhaps even expected it to happen. Mind recalling the look in Tom’s eyes over dinner. Yeah. This was expected alright. He thinks to ignore it, but knows that’s probably the worst thing to do. He could shut the phone off (it’s late, it’s late and his eyes are burning) but, he doesn’t. No. Almost like his body is on autopilot, he reaches over and stares at the screen, eyes blinking rapidly as the light burns his pupils down to tiny pinpricks of black. Two messages.
Are you awake?
A sigh and he’s typing blindly, his eyes nearly shut. Chris feels like he barely slept—he doesn’t even have sleep dust gathered in his eyes yet!
The light is snapped off and he’s barely moved his finger away from the button before the phone vibrates again.
I can’t sleep.
I can. Goodnight, Tom.