#tiny dave

nigellecter 

There’s a special moment in the day that David likes particularly, and it’s the morning, when he wakes up and can just bury his nose in Nigel’s side, or his chest hair, and breathe in that wonderful scent, feel the warmth of his body at rest.

He wakes up with a wide grin this morning, feeling all but wrapped in that scent, which for some reason feels stronger than ever before. He takes his time, stretching on the warm, comfortable mattress.

It takes a good few minutes for him to register that the blanket feels very heavier than usual on him, and that... The mattress feels a lot different, too.

He opens his eyes and gasps at what he sees - his lover’s face is bigger than David’s entire body, and he is lying on his chest, right in the middle of that patch of greying hair. As he props himself up on tiny hands he feels, under his palms, the slow, steady, powerful rhythm of a giant’s heartbeat.

It hits him, then - last night, Nigel’s tiny brother’s visit, and the way he had mentioned it might have been drug induced. Oh, fu-... Surely that has to do with his present condition.

He scoots out from under the blanket and sits up.

“N-Nigel?” He murmurs, and notices that, just like Hannibal’s, his own voice doesn’t seem to have been altered much by the transformation - small comfort.