Send me a “( ø∑ø)” for our muses to wake up next to each other in the early morning after a One Night Stand together.
The quiet breathing and the barest shift of movement beside him was enough to pull the thief out of dreamland and back into the world of the living. Blue eyes blearily blinked open, but soon closed again as Sylwen burrowed himself deeper under the covers and closer to the warm body sleeping next to him.
He had a feeling that Hakuba was either going to kill him, freak out – which seemed more likely than anything else – offer him a cup of tea or coffee, or kick him out. Or all of the above. In that order.
Not that Sylwen particularly cared about how the detective was going to react when he woke up, because he was still too sleepy and Hakuba was warm and comfortable and Sylwen was just going to take this chance to keep snuggling up against him.
Yeah, that sounded pretty good.
And then he could tease the blond and watch him freak out as much as he wanted when he woke up.
All of those were fairly likely possibilities given the circumstances, but for the time being, Hakuba only tightened his arms around the body next to him. His head hurt; that much he was aware of, and he could tell that he was in his own bed, because the threadcount in the sheets was just perfect. The goose down comforter kept the warmth in quite nicely, which was appreciated as he and his companion, whoever it was, were clearly naked.
Memories filtered in like rain though cracks in the sidewalk, catching on roots or sand, but eventually seeping to his pool of thought. Yesterday had been his birthday, which explained the alcohol and in turn explained the headache. This body, though… Hakuba chanced opening one of his eyes just enough to get a glance at the dark hair against his shoulder, heart fluttering briefly. It was…
No, it wasn’t. He smirked against the ache and shifted against the mattress to roll toward him, hand drawing up the thief’s back to his shoulderblades, hefting a sleepy sigh. Closing his eyes, he let his fingers dip into his hair, petting, while threading an ankle between Sylwen’s.
“Quite the present,” he murmured, settling again.