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Before he’s even fully awake, Alfie knows he’s alone in his bed. Tommy has left, just snuck the fuck off at some point during the night, and Alfie guesses it wasn’t long after he’d fallen asleep. Tommy always leaves and frankly, Alfie is sick of it. He’s had enough of sleeping alone, enough of waking up in a cold bed with cold sheets.
The memory of Tommy, warm and pliable beside him, the comfortable weight of his arm draped over him, has Alfie up and out of bed, grabbing his phone on his way out of the bedroom. He finds Tommy’s number and calls him.
One way or another, Tommy is going to start sleeping over. They were together, dammit! He didn’t think that at this point, he would have to tell him to stay.
It rings once, twice, three times before Alfie hears his voice, and he sounds tired, like he hasn’t slept and knowing Tommy, he probably hasn’t.
“Alfie. Good morning.”
“Oi, Tommy, it’s not.” Alfie grumbles as he opens the cupboard to get out the coffee, “Where the fuck are you?”
“At home, why?”
“Because it’s damn cold in this house and when I fall asleep with you, I expect you to still be there when I wake up.”
“You know I don’t sleep much, I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Bullshit. Get your ass back over here, and we’re going to have breakfast together, in bed, like we should have done several times by now.” He hangs up, not giving Tommy a chance to talk his way out of it. While waiting, Alfie prepares coffee, takes out some bread for toast and within ten minutes, there’s a key in the front door and Alfie looks over to see his boyfriend walking in, looking almost sheepish as he shuts the door.
“Now it’s a good morning, Tommy.” Alfie greets him with a grin as he grabs the tray he’s made and starts toward the bedroom, “Well, you better follow me, right, we have a thing or two to discuss.”