Andrew had fought against his drooping eyelids before tilting sideways to rest his head on Thomas’s shoulder. It had been Thomas who gently dragged Andrew’s head onto his lap and then watched with soft fondness as Andrew fell asleep in exactly two seconds. No fight. No grumpy protests. No uneasy discomfort that they might be seen like this, too close and too soft and too familiar.

📚Thomas/Don't Let The Forest In