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Entry tags:
Cuddletiems
He never knows if he dreams. Despite nearly four years of mortality and therefore the need for sleep, his dreams—if they exist—never stay with him as soon as his conscious mind registers reality. To wake up, for him, means to become aware of himself again. It happens in a single shift: off and then on. This morning is no different.
Dean's elbow digs into his ribs. Her weight shifts against the mattress, her body rolling into a better position from which to get up and make coffee.
He likes coffee. But he does not like Dean leaving. He also doesn't like the bounce of the mattress jarring him into consciousness.
A faint, unhappy growl keens through his nose and he tightens his arm around Dean's waist, pressing closer into her back. He wants to stay in bed a while longer. Dean doesn't need to be at work yet for a few hours. They have time. And Dean is warm and comfortable and smells like sweat and laundry soap when he slots between her neck and shoulder. Pressing his palm flat high on Dean's abdomen, he tries to hold Dean still in bed with him.
Next to the bed, Ae hangs in her tree, stretched along the lowest branch, her tail a swinging pendulum to brush over Farb below in his bed. Her round, golden eyes blink slowly with dissatisfaction for being woken, her head feathers fluffed out in defense.
Dean's elbow digs into his ribs. Her weight shifts against the mattress, her body rolling into a better position from which to get up and make coffee.
He likes coffee. But he does not like Dean leaving. He also doesn't like the bounce of the mattress jarring him into consciousness.
A faint, unhappy growl keens through his nose and he tightens his arm around Dean's waist, pressing closer into her back. He wants to stay in bed a while longer. Dean doesn't need to be at work yet for a few hours. They have time. And Dean is warm and comfortable and smells like sweat and laundry soap when he slots between her neck and shoulder. Pressing his palm flat high on Dean's abdomen, he tries to hold Dean still in bed with him.
Next to the bed, Ae hangs in her tree, stretched along the lowest branch, her tail a swinging pendulum to brush over Farb below in his bed. Her round, golden eyes blink slowly with dissatisfaction for being woken, her head feathers fluffed out in defense.