Title: The Good Sleep

Author: Meadow Lion

Rating: R

Pairing: Fawkes/Hobbes

Spoilers: definitely some for last week's episode - sorry, don't know the title! - as this is based around scenes from that ep when Hobbes is in the chair, watching Fawkes sleep, & when Hobbes goes to the Keeper's room

Status: done, I think

Series/Sequels: nothing yet, but who knows ... Archive: NOT YET, please

Notes, feedback: I've written fics in other fandoms, but this is my first IM fic; I had no beta; feedback is the staple of my fic-writing diet. So, *please* send me any constructive comments (related to canon, characterization, mechanics, gushing praise, etc.) at simplelyric@netscape.net. It doesn't have to be earth-shatteringly serious criticism, I'll be thrilled with 'I liked this,' too. Flames will be used to make lots and lots of s'mores.

Disclaimer: I don't own Darien Fawkes or Bobby Hobbes, I'm just playing around with them for fun.



The Good Sleep
by Meadow Lion

"Fawkes!" Bobby Hobbes whispered. He looked up and down the embassy hallway a few times, then rapped lightly on the door to his partner's room. Rat-a-tat-tat!

"Fawkes," Hobbes whispered again. 'This is stupid,' he thought. 'I don't know why the hell I came back here. I purposely left earlier, and now here I am again. What am I, an idiot?'

'No, just crazy.'

*****

When the ambassador refused him a room assignment, Bobby made his way to Darien's room. He knocked hesitantly, and Darien opened the door immediately.

The sometimes visible man had obviously already been preparing for bed; he'd taken his shirt off, and his face was wet from a recent splash of water. Water which, incidentally, was still dripping slowly down his bare chest when he answered Bobby's knock. Darien blinked at Bobby, moisture clinging to his lashes. Bobby blinked back.

"Well?" Darien said.

Bobby blinked once more. "Well what?"

"Well, why did you knock, what do you need? What are you doing standing at my door with your suitcase? Lemme guess, I got the wrong room, I'm supposed to be sleeping down the hall in the linen closet."

Hobbes colored slightly. "Oh, uh - nothing, no. I was just gonna tell you to get your ass out of bed when the alarm goes off - got a lot to do tomorrow."

Fawkes raised his eyebrows. "Where's your room?" he asked suddenly.

"What do you mean, where's my room? What difference does it make?" Bobby said defensively.

Fawkes shrugged and gave a mocking grin. "I don't mean anything, I just want to make sure you're far enough down the hall or whatever, so you don't come barreling in at five in the morning to wake me up."

Hobbes made a face at him. "You're real funny, you know that, kid?"

Again, the mocking grin. "Yeah, you know you love it."

"That's what you wanna tell yourself." Bobby smiled a little, letting the sentence trail off. He started to turn away. "Anyway, I'll see ya' in the morning, okay?"

Darien dropped a hand on his shoulder. "Hobbes, seriously, where's your room at? In case of some emergency, y'know."

Hobbes shrugged away from his hand and studied the other doors further down the hall, debating with himself. "I, uh - I told the ambassador I wanted to sleep outside tonight. We've got this nice weather and all ... " The excuse was so lame he felt embarrassed for even thinking of it, let alone giving voice to it.

"You, sleep outside when there are these big comfy beds inside? Sometimes you're a really lousy liar, *Agent Hobbes*. I hope for your sake your charms work better on women."

"Better believe they do." Bobby's face slid into a smirk.

Darien smiled back. "So, you wanna tell me the truth? What, did his majesty tell you to sleep 20 miles away in the royal guest quarters or something?"

Hobbes opened his mouth to talk again, but Darien seemed to catch the coming lie in his eyes. Fawkes gave him a look. "Wait a minute. That bastard ambassador didn't *give* you a room, did he? He's holding some dumbass grudge against you and now he's making you sleep on the floor?" Once again Hobbes tried to interject and was cut off.

"No, don't lie to me again," Fawkes said. He caught Hobbes' shoulder and pulled him into the room. "Just get your ass in here. We're not giving that dick the satisfaction of having you on the floor out there somewhere. You're gonna sleep in my bed."

"What?!" Hobbes immediately took a step backward, trying to re-exit the room. "No way, Fawkes, I'm not sleeping with you. I mean, I'm not sharin' your bed. I mean - you know what I mean! Hate to burst your bubble, but it's not gonna happen, kid."

Darien yanked him all the way into the room and pushed the door closed, leaning against it. "Chill out, Hobbes. I'm saying you'll take the bed, I'll crash on this easy chair thing."

"Fawkes, no, that's dumb." Hobbes took a half-step towards the door - and Darien - before faltering.

"What are you talking about, it makes complete sense. Hell, if it makes you feel better, we can switch tomorrow night. You take the chair, I'll - "

"I said, 'no,' Fawkes." He tried to reach around his partner to the doorknob. As an afterthought, Bobby added, "And that idea makes even less sense anyway."

Darien shifted to trap Hobbes' hand between his body and the door. "Oh, yeah? And why is that?"

"Because I said so, now just let me out of here." Hobbes twisted his hand against Darien's back but couldn't get it free.

"Nope. Why's it such a bad idea?"

"I didn't say it was bad, I just - "

"A ha!"

Hobbes pinched his back, and Darien winced. "I didn't say it was bad, I just said it didn't make sense. You've got the job to do tomorrow night, so you're not gonna be getting enough rest then. You gotta sleep the good sleep tonight."

Fawkes cleared his throat. "'Sleep the good sleep'? Maybe I shouldn't let you stay in here, you sound like you're planning to kill me in my sleep."

"Still so funny, Fawkes."

"Funny *and* right, Hobbes. Stay." Darien leaned forward enough that Bobby could slide his hand free, then he caught Bobby's arm with his own hand. "C'mon, Hobbes. It'll make me feel better. And you'll have one up on the ambassador. So stay. Please."

Hobbes shook his head. "Okay, okay, I give up. But you're still taking the bed tonight. And you wanna maybe let go of my arm sometime here?"

Fawkes dropped his arm and said lightly, "Done. You need the bathroom? I'm finished in there."

"Yeah, sure." Hobbes headed toward the bathroom, suitcase in tow. "Uh, Fawkes?" he said from the bathroom doorway.

Darien looked up, hopping as he pulled one leg of his pants off. "Yeah?" 'Boxers,' Hobbes thought. 'Cute little cotton boxers on his cute little ...

' "Oh. Just, thanks," Bobby said and ducked into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him.

He turned the dial on the shower all the way to the cold side.

When he came out again, one pillow and the top blanket from the bed were waiting on the easy chair. Darien was already asleep, still without a shirt, and enough of him was beneath the sheet for Bobby to not be sure whether the sleeping man was wearing anything else. Hobbes picked up the pillow and blanket, settled himself as best he could into the chair, took a deep breath, then shut his eyes tightly. He tried to sleep.

Bobby felt Darien's cock poking him in the back, he needed to shift, get it nestled against his ass instead ... wait, wait, no, that was just the arm of the chair. God, was that contraption uncomfortable.

Darien's hand was in Bobby's hair, lifting it up. Bobby wanted Darien to blow on his neck, he needed to move towards Darien ... Bobby realized suddenly that he was rubbing his head against the fabric of the chair.

Now Darien was straddling him on the chair, hand stroking Bobby's cock. He looked up and watched Darien arch above him, sweat dripping down his chest like the water had been earlier ...

Bobby opened his eyes and glared malevolently at the Real Life Darien, still snoring away peacefully in the bed, back tuned away from Bobby and his very real erection. And then Bobby was just looking at that lean, bare back, the wiry muscles moving beneath Darien's tan skin as he shifted slightly in his sleep. Bobby could still picture the Dream Darien, too, and the two lithe figures combined themselves in his head.

Hobbes shook his head forcefully. He stood up, grabbed his things, and left the room, hearing the automatic inside lock snick into place behind him. He went to knock at the Keeper's door then, went to Claire's safe, temptation-free room.

Apparently the temptation wasn't yet far enough away in the Keeper's room, because images of his partner were still keeping Bobby awake there. He started wondering whether he'd been too adamant or sounded too defensive when he'd told Claire he would never fish off the company pier. He thought maybe her abrupt turn away from him after that meant that he'd been protesting too much and she suspected he had a very strong interest in a certain company-owned fish. He was hoping that if the Keeper figured it out she'd keep it quiet, though. If he knew for sure that she'd caught on, he could maybe talk to her, kinda guilt trip her by swaying he wouldn't tell anybody if she was the one who was hooked. But he didn't know for sure, didn't have any idea really. And puzzling over it sure wasn't helping him sleep. Hobbes was thinking he might be better off back in Fawkes' room. At least there, the main problem would be right in front of him rather than creating a million worries and images in his tired brain.

*****

So, Bobby was back at Darien's door again, and he was finally accepting the depth of his insanity. He made himself walk away but only got a few feet down the hall before returning to the door. Bobby gave one more short rap on said door, whispering his partner's name as softly as possible.

When there was still no answer, he felt something acidic eating at his insides: fear, hope, disappointment, and relief all duking it out over his guts. He needed water, Pepto Bismol, something. He started to turn away again to look for one of those somethings when the door swung open.

Fawkes' eyes were almost closed, eyebrows struggling to rise in question, and he slouched in the door frame. "Hobbes? Hobbes, what're you doing out here?"

Bobby's voice was exhausted and resigned. He ignored Darien's inquiry. "Hey, Fawkes. Sorry to wake you, but how 'bout we share that big bed after all?"

Darien nodded, and Bobby was glad he'd dropped the 'why' question. Darien's next words, though, sounded odd even in Bobby's half-asleep ears.

"I have this feeling like I'm going to regret it in the morning, but, yeah, come on in. It's a big enough bed ... " Fawkes trailed off.

Hobbes shrugged, nudging Darien aside to get into the room. Darien followed.

Hobbes grabbed the pillow and blanket from where he'd left them on the chair and re-arranged both on the bed. Then the two men climbed wordlessly into the bed. Bobby was too tired to really feel the awkwardness of the situation, and he assumed the same was true of his partner. Hobbes lay stiffly on his back, and Darien twisted onto his side, away from Hobbes.

Gradually, Bobby relaxed. There was something that was helping him drift closer to sleep, something good in having Darien's smell on him and Darien's heat on him from the sheets and in just having Darien himself so near, even if he was still untouchable. Suddenly, Darien rolled over to face him, leaning close to his ear like someone would overhear otherwise. "Bobby," he breathed softly.

Bobby twitched, his body tensing in the bed. He mentally berated himself for allowing such a movement that Darien could probably feel through the mattress.

After a minute or so, the thoughts broke through that a) Darien had used his first name and it sounded nice in the low voice, and b) he hadn't answered Darien yet. "Uh, yeah ... Darien?"

Fawkes didn't move, and his lips were almost brushing Bobby's ear when he responded. "You didn't answer me before. How come you left earlier?"

Hobbes forced a laugh. "Oh, that. I forgot you even asked." Darien waited, and Bobby continued. "You were snoring like a log, kid, I couldn't sleep for a second."

"Uh-huh." Darien tilted his head back slightly. "I'm not buying it. I know you, and for one thing, you can sleep through a building being demolished. For two things, you're always saying what a great agent you are, I'm sure you could've come up with some way to block the sound out. Besides, you're here again now, right, so it couldn't have been that bad."

"If I say it was your snoring, then it was your snoring," Hobbes retorted.

"And I don't even snore in the first place."

"Look, Fawkes. You were snoring, I was hearing it, I couldn't sleep. Can we just drop it?"

"Oh, wait, I know!" Hobbes jerked away from the unexpectedly loud voice so close to his ear. "You wanted to hook up with Claire! You've been trying ever since you heard her at your funeral."

"No, damn it, that's not it," Bobby said. He scooted to the edge of the bed, fists clenching at his sides. "I wanted to stop trying to get myself hooked up with *you*," he muttered. 'Fuck, fuck, fuck!'

There was no sound at first, like Darien's breathing had stopped as completely as Bobby's. Then, Darien leaned over and again spoke Hobbes' first name directly into his ear.

Bobby grunted out a "Huh?"

"I'm just wondering, you always wear so many clothes to bed?"

"Honestly, no." Hobbes started laughing, but the sound ended abruptly in a gasp when he felt Darien's tongue slide around the tip of his ear.

"Then why the *hell* are you wearing so many now?"

"Don't know," Bobby said.

Fawkes trailed his tongue from Bobby's ear, down along his jaw to his chin. He spoke against Bobby's mouth this time. "So, you want to maybe take some stuff off?"

Hobbes angled his head upward and caught Darien's mouth with his own. Darien put a hand on each of Bobby's arms, rubbing gently, and he pressed downward into Bobby's lips. Fawkes traced Hobbes' mouth with his tongue, easing it open. Bobby's tongue lifted briefly to tease Darien's, and then Bobby's mouth went slack.

Pulling back, Fawkes said softly, "Bobby, are you okay?"

Hobbes murmured happily.

Just before Dream Darien completely took over, Bobby heard Real Life Darien speaking with a smile in his voice. "Guess we'll have to get those clothes off you tomorrow night after the gig., huh?"

Bobby and Darien both slept the good sleep for the rest of the night.



- end -