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“Remy have you seen my- oh.”
A cloud of steam follows Daniel out of the bathroom into the bedroom. He’s shirtless, it’s a nice look on him as if Remy would ever voice that.
This was a common occurrence actually for whatever this was. Herald loudly broadcasted it as ‘dating!’ Remy wanted to set him straight but they had neither the heart nor mind to do that to him.
What Daniel was looking for was a dress shirt that Remy had nicked from the closet at some point that morning and they were now lounging on his bed. It’s too big for just Daniel and it’s just a little too small for both of them. So when they’re in bed together they’re cuddling close, faces pressed into necks or shoulders. Warm, safe, even.
It’s too much for Remy they think, more than they deserve but it’s nice. It’s so, so, nice. And they’re nothing if not a bit selfish.
Herald’s grins are lopsided. Not the perfectly charming smiles he shows for the media or Chen or Ortega even, these grins are for Remy and Remy alone.
“There it is.” He pads over to the bed and presses a quick kiss to the corner of Remy’s mouth. Short, chaste, perfect. They look up at him; Daniel's the sunrise before the suns up, soft pink on purple clouds it draws you to look east without hurting your eyes with what’s to come. Herald is bright, he’s the afternoon sun, it’s heat searing everything in its way. It’s a decent contrast they think.
“Will I get that back or should I resign to finding another shirt?”
Remy hums before laying back and pulling a blanket over themselves. “Mine.”
“Fair.”
Remy watches his back as he goes to the closet to find another shirt that isn’t hopefully wrinkled. It could be this easy, they think, put down Reflex, put the suit in a crate and toss it into the sea. It would be easy, but it would also be one of the hardest things they’ve ever done.
“Babe, tough luck but I need that shirt.” Remy grumbles before bringing up the blanket over their face. “I’ll trade you a sweatshirt.” That gets their attention.
It’s no secret that Remy had a penchant for stealing Daniel’s clothes. They’re always just a tad big but they fit and best of all they smell like him, of detergent and oranges. It’s a weird combination but it’s grounding, grounding in a way that second hand clothes washed at a laundromat could never compare to. When there hadn’t been a complaint about the disappearance of clothes, Remy just kept at it.
The sweatshirt presented looks old, it’s a little frayed and faded but it looks soft and Remy is quick to take it. It is soft, it’s got some wording on it that makes them think it’s from the heartland in the east. Reluctantly, Remy pulls the shirt from their shoulders and hands it to Daniel. Then they pull the sweatshirt on and it’s as comfy as it looks. The sleeves are a little long and the hem bunches around their hips. They get the feeling it’s also a little big on him, maybe a hand-me-down?
Daniel takes a seat on the bed and starts pulling on the shirt. It’s slightly crinkled from the bed but not enough to really impact his appearance. Not something that a smile from him wouldn’t immediately sweep under the rug anyways.
They pull themselves up and distract him by pressing kisses to the back of his neck, it barely takes a short read to know that Daniel’s stomach flipped with the action. He broadcasts so loudly that they’d have to be completely occupied not to notice.
“You’re absolutely certain I can’t convince you to stay in bed?” It’s still dark out, it had been unusually cloudy in Los Diablos. Remy hadn’t minded, they never do, but it gave the last few days an overwhelmingly sleepy feel.
“God, you’re tempting.” He looks like he might actually give in for a second. “Chen will have a conniption if I don’t show up.” He cranes his head to pull Remy in for a kiss. “If you’re up to it when I’m done we can do something.”
Remy lets a hand linger on Daniel’s chest before pulling the bedsheets tighter around themselves. “I’m holding you too that flyboy.”