Sherlockian Trekkie

Your back was pressed into the broad wall of his chest, one of his huge arms wrapped around your middle like a living blanket. His hand rested lazily on your stomach, warm and heavy. The other arm was tucked under your pillow somewhere behind you.

The man was massive. Even asleep, he took up half the bed.

Your legs were tangled with his, one of his thighs slotted between yours, the warmth of him radiating through the blankets. He was basically a human furnace.

Rain pattered softly against the glass.

You shifted just a little.

Immediately the arm around you tightened. A deep, sleepy rumble vibrated through Thor’s chest behind you. “Do not escape,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

You smiled without meaning to. “I wasn’t escaping,” you whispered.

His nose brushed the back of your hair as he buried his face against your neck again, breathing slow and warm against your skin. “Mm. Liar.” His grip tightened slightly—possessive, but gentle. Like a sleepy bear making sure its favorite thing didn’t wander away.

You reached down and laced your fingers with his where his hand rested on your stomach. His fingers were huge compared to yours, calloused from battle but warm.

Outside, the rain kept falling. Inside, the bed was warm, quiet, and safe.

Thor shifted behind you, pulling you even closer until your back was flush against him. “Midgardian storms are excellent for sleeping,” he murmured.

“You say that about everything.”

“Yes,” he agreed sleepily.

You turned your head just enough to glance at him.

His hair was a tangled mess across the pillow. His eyes were barely open, heavy with sleep, beard slightly scruffy from a few days without shaving. The god of thunder looked thoroughly cozy.

You brushed a strand of hair out of his face.

“You’re supposed to be saving the world today.”

Thor blinked slowly.

“…Later.”

Then he tugged the blankets higher around both of you and pressed a lazy kiss to the back of your shoulder.

“Right now,” he said, voice deep and content, “I am occupied.”

“With what?”

His arm squeezed you again.

“Cuddling.”

You laughed softly.

Rain tapped gently on the window.

Thor’s breathing slowed again as he drifted back toward sleep, still wrapped around you like a protective shield.

A moment later, his voice rumbled quietly again.

“…If you grow cold,” he murmured, half asleep, “simply move closer.”

You glanced down at the way he already had you completely pinned to his chest.

“I don’t think that’s physically possible.”

Thor hummed.

“We can try.”