Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tom has been complaining about a bad back for at least two weeks now. Well, he says he's been complaining, but he's not missed a single show because of it and he always refuses Pip's help whenever they offer it because he doesn't want to bother them; they're busy enough as it is. Besides, it had not been that bad. He could still touch the floor without turning his entire spine into a stack of loose pebbles, and he was counting it as a win. But today...today went a little bit differently.

Tom reaches above his head to grab the jar of jam from the top shelf of the fridge. An involuntary hiss of pain escapes through his teeth in an instant, the whole middle section of his back exploding in white-hot pain. He screws his eyes shut and tries to breathe through it.

''Is your back still bothering you?'' A voice asks from behind him. Tom turns around with mild difficulty, an excuse already fixed on the tip of his tongue. Sam is looking at him with a mixed expression of worry and disbelief.

''No, not at all, really. It's just a bit sore.'' Tom says with a shrug. He bites back a grunt of pain as the movement tugs at his back.

''Right, you just said two completely different things there.'' Sam rolls his eyes. He closes the distance between them and grabs Tom by the waist, turning him around as though to scan for any potential damage. Tom's breath slightly catches in his throat.

''Sam, seriously, it's fine- ''

''Shut up.'' Sam deadpans. He's already lifting Tom's shirt and running a thumb along the swollen muscle, the skin feeling a bit warmer and more inflamed than either of them would have liked. Sam tuts at Tom in slight annoyance.

''For fuck's sake, you should have told me earlier, I'd have taken over all the social media filming for you.''

''You know I don't mind doing it.'' Tom argues back.

''Right, but that's not the point, though, is it.''

''C'mon, mate, just drop it- I'm fine.'' Tom says, breaking free of Sam's hold and grabbing his half-finished sandwich. ''It'll be as good as new by tomorrow.''

He doesn't bother waiting for Sam's answer and makes a beeline straight for the kitchen door, his legs not quite cooperating as he tries to adjust to the sudden onslaught of aches shooting up and down his spine as he walks. He doesn't need to turn around to know that Sam is giving him The Look.

''Tom.''

Ah yes, there it is, the disappointed dad tone.

Tom holds up his sandwich, making his way towards the sofa.

''Nuh uh, it's sandwich time. It's my time.'' Tom hears the annoyed sigh before his arse even touches the sofa, which is a task in itself because sitting down has not been his forte as of late. There is the unmistakable sound of the freezer drawer opening. Tom is about to say something but he thinks better of it, instead taking a bite out of his sandwich and turning his attention to the TV. Sam swiftly shuffles back into the room. Tom tries to lie back and make himself look comfortable. If Sam notices his uncomfortable wince of pain, he doesn't mention it, instead focusing on glaring at Tom in disappointment. Tom pointedly does not look up from his seat. He continues to ignore the figure stood besides him, keeping eyes trained on the big screen in front of him. All he can make out in his peripheral is Sam's elbow from where he is standing staring at Tom with his hands on his hips. A moment passes in silence.

''For fucks sake, would you stop being so fucking stubborn and let me ice your back for you?'' Sam snaps, throwing his hands up slightly. A bag of ice rattles in one of his fists.

''I never said you couldn't ice my back for me.'' Tom says, taking another bite without taking his eyes off the TV. Sam sighs dramatically again and Tom wonders how he ever has any air left.

''Just move over.'' Sam demands. Tom does, but only because he's tired and wants to enjoy his sandwich in peace. He has to get those reels posted tonight and then he has to email a venue for tomorrow's show because there was a complication with one of their cameras and-

''Jesus, fuck!'' Tom yells out as the cold suddenly strikes through his blazing skin. He arches away from it on instinct. Shaking his head, Sam just presses the pack a bit higher up towards Tom's shoulder blades.

''Dramatic twat.'' He says, but there is no real bite to the words. Tom can hear the worry in his tone and he swallows whatever annoying thing was about to come out of his mouth, letting the soothing feeling take over. He lets out a soft, content little sigh of relief.

''That's what I thought,'' Sam says. His tone is gentle and fond now, hands taking away the ice pack and placing it on the table. Tom, regrettably, is about to whine in complaint, but then Sam's hands were resting on his lower back and his thumbs were pressing gently into the muscle. Tom keens lowly in the back of his throat. His head falls forward; he grips one of the sofa cushions. Sam's thumbs are slowly dragged up the either side of Tom's spine and Tom swears this is what heaven feels like, so he lets his mouth drop open. He doesn't bother to stop the little noises escaping from the back of his throat. Then Sam is using the heel of his palm and Tom is too far gone for it.

''Ugh, Sam, I love you.'' He groans in pure relief. Sam huffs in amusement and runs his thumbs under each of Tom's shoulder blades.

''I would've fucking done this earlier if you'd have just asked me.'' He berates Tom softly. All Tom has the energy for is a distracted hum in response. His eyes start fluttering shut against his will and he's having trouble keeping himself upright, Sam's persistent kneading rocking his body back and forth. But then the hands are back off him again and he really might just fall asleep, why didn't he just trample his fucking ego days ago-

''Why'd you stop?'' Tom slurs sleepily. Tomorrow, he might be embarrassed by how easily he gave into this wonderful temptation, but he doesn't have the capacity to care at all right now. Not even slightly.

''I'm...texting Luke and AJ...to come downstairs.'' Sam says slowly, as though distracted. Tom doesn't bother turning around. Again, he will be mad about Sam for this tomorrow when his brain catches up to him and he regains the ability to function. For now, all he ends up saying is-

''M'kay.'' His body sways forward unsteadily. Sam catches him and lowers him to the comfortable sofa, maneuvering him so that he is lying on his back. Tom finds he doesn't need to wince as much.

''Lift.'' Sam instructs gently, patting Tom's hip. Tom obeys dutifully and lifts his hip just enough for Sam to be able to slide the ice pack under there, the cold immediately spreading up and down Tom's entire back. He peers at Sam through hooded eyes.

''Sam?''

Two sets of footsteps came padding down the stairs and across the hallway, Luke's voice cutting through the brief silence that had settled across the living room. Tom just lets his eyes flutter shut. Maybe this is okay. He can get back to work tomorrow. He doesn't care. Sam's hands are really warm and suddenly they're in his hair and he doesn't really care about much else. He wants to sleep.

''I tried to massage the muscles as best as I could, but they're so swollen. I'm worried they'll get worse if I keep messing with them.'' Sam says, but Tom can't see him. He thinks he's drifting in and out of consciousness, sleep threatening to claim him after each deep breath he takes.

''That's okay, the ice pack should help either way, I'll go get another one ready and grab some water.'' Luke says somewhere above Tom's head. The warm light of the living room is apparent even through Tom's closed eyelids. He lets the shadows dance across his eyes as his friends scuttled around the room, retrieving various items or simply shifting to sit besides Tom.

''I fucking knew he was lying about being better.'' AJ says disapprovingly.

''Yeah, tell me about it.'' Sam says. Another slightly bigger hand makes its way into Tom's hair and he sighs in approval, a soft kiss being pressed to his temple without hesitation.

''You're such an idiot.'' AJ whispers to him, close enough for Tom to feel a slight breath of air against his ear. He can't help but smile dopily. He hears the clink of a glass being placed down on the nightstand, the sofa dipping slightly where another figure has sat down beside him. Luke places Tom's legs over his lap and Sam drapes a blanket over him.

Yeah. Tom has some pretty incredible friends.