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It’s too early.
The sun is shining directly into my face because Snow left the damn window open again, and it burns, and it’s too early for me to be awake right now. I stretch my arm out to my left only to find empty sheets, still warm, but Snow is a fucking space heater of a human being so who really knows how long he’s been up.
I turn over, onto my stomach, face buried into the pillow that smells like him. Like citrus and the remnants of a campfire, and I can tell he’s been using my products in the shower again but I can’t be that upset. I’ll obviously scold him over it later, but it will be half-hearted if not entirely fake because I’m disgustingly soft for him.
The mattress dips next to me and I start to lift my head to greet him, but before I have the chance I am attacked.
Snow stabs a blunt finger into my side and I jerk away on instinct, a strangled, embarrassing cut off scream escaping my throat. When I look up, Snow’s looking at me with this big, amused grin on his face and an almost evil glint in his eyes. I recognize it all too well, a look he’s given me time and again over the past year, the look he gets when he’s figured something out. Something he didn’t know before. And usually, I am a fan of the context of that look, such as the time we both discovered a proclivity for some slightly rougher, more teeth-intensive activities. (Yes, I realize the irony of a vampire with a biting kink. And so does everyone else because Snow has no shame, filter, or control over his damn mouth.)
Snow’s fingers are back on my side, digging into my ribs, and it takes everything in me to not squirm. I fail horrendously when he redoubles his efforts, and I’m bubbling with a mixture of laughs and cries for him to stop.
“Snow, stop. That tickles.”
“I never knew you were ticklish, Baz.” Snow’s grin is wicked, and he swings a leg across my hips, straddling me. I reach for his hands, but he grabs both of my wrists with one and pins them above my head. “I can’t believe I never knew this.”
“Snow.” I try to fix him with a glare, but he’s trailing his fingertips across my stomach, just barely touching my skin, and I’m squirming beneath him instead. “Crowley, this is unfair.”
“Oh, is it?”
“Absolutely.”
“How’s that?”
I’m laughing too hard to form a proper thought or sentence, so hard that I feel tears building in my eyes and my lungs hurt. They’re not used to being used in this manner. “It just is, now kindly get the fuck off of me.”
He doesn’t.
In fact, he does the opposite, and somehow lays further on top of me so I can hardly move as he keeps ghosting his damn fingers over my damn sides and even I wasn’t aware that I was that ticklish. To be fair, there weren’t many people touching me like this before him. As much as I love Snow’s hands on me, I feel like crawling out of my skin in an entirely different way than usual. I’m not sure I like it, but I’m not sure I hate it, and it’s entirely too much for the moment.
I regain my bearings enough to flip us over, Snow falling onto his back and surprised enough to let go of my hands, and now I’m straddling him.
“That’s unfair.” He pouts, and even though I am presently upset with him over this whole tickling debacle, I lean down and kiss him.
“What’s unfair, love?”
“Vampire strength.”
“Maybe don’t sneak up on and tickle a vampire, then, Snow.”
Snow laughs. “I hardly snuck up on you! And I didn’t mean to tickle you, I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t stop.”
“Because you don’t smile a lot, and you’re adorable when you’re laughing and flailing!”
And I kiss him again because I love him, and it puts an end to the not-quite-argument as he cups his hand around the back of my neck and kisses me back. I place my hands on his chest, leaning further into him. He tastes like mint and coffee, and the way he moves his chin makes me want to crawl out of my skin in a much more familiar way.
His eyes shoot open and his laugh-cry is muffled by my smirk as my fingers move over his ribs. He twists beneath me, attempting to move away, but he’s right. Vampire strength is unfair.
“Baz,” He gasps between laughs. “Stop, stop, okay, I’ll never do it again! Information deleted, forgotten!”
I stop. I’m not a monster.
“Truce?”
“Truce.”