Chapter Text
His hair is tickling your face, and it's waking you up. Your fault, since you're the one who has been urging him to let it grow out for a bit. Something along the lines of 'your ears will get cold and ear muffs will make the killers see you as someone with bad blood flow'. His chest isn't fully exposed. His t-shirt is just pulled down enough for you to feel his collar bone pushing your ear. You hold onto the warmth.
His legs are encased in sweatpants that by now have been bunched up and risen to the upper half of his calf. That's what rough cuddling gets you.
They're tangled with yours, but not in an uncomfortable way. You're not shifting to get his heavy bones off of yours- quite the opposite, in fact. You make sure to stay in your knotted ways and enjoy the energy radiating off of the situation.
He's awake now. You can feel his nostrils pushing out air against your forehead.
"G'morning," he mumbled out, wrapping a naked arm over your shoulder and pulling you closer. His voice is low and in need of a good cough to clear it out, but even in its early morning predicament you can sense the adoration of his simple greeting. You stuff your nose into the crease of his neck with a hum of lovely acknowledgment. You let him give your forehead a scratchy kiss. You're not sure if you want him to shave today. Not that he should have a mustache; you just like the texture of a stubbly chin against your cheek sometimes. Feels rustic, with a hint of paternity you couldn't rationally explain.
"It's almost ten, you know that right?" You respond by wrapping your arm around his torso and squeezing. He lets out a chuckle that felt like coffee; warm but still gruffly enough to make you feel charmed.
His hand brushes your hair away from your face. He's not forcing you to look up, technically, but it feels like you should. So you do, and smile when you meet his tired eyes. Hooded and loving they are. His hair is fluffy and and messy and just the kind of disorganized you love. "If you wake up, we can eat breakfast. And if we eat breakfast I'll be able to get out the Nintendo Switches and visit your island," he softly reasons, his eyebrows raised high enough to crease his forehead.
"Mh, this bed is enough of an island for me," you mumble out. He grins down at you- no, not a grin. A smile, and a tender one at that.
"I suppose so. When you're in bed it's like you're cut off from the world. No responsibilities, no reaching out, just you and whatever you've decided to bring with you; just like an island."
He's dorky. You love it. "Well I'm glad you're what I've brought along with me," and you give a gentle kiss. He knew you were going to, seeing your eyes glance at his lips, which made his smile widen. Both of your eyes closed at the short peck. It felt like sunlight warming your skin. "Good morning, Dr. Reid," you mumble out when your lips pull away from his. His eyebrow raises oh so cutely. "Already using formalities? It's barely noon," he whispers out before he goes for a kiss himself, which you happily give him.
"Formalities are the greeting cards of the modern day, doctor. Now come here and cuddle me more before modern day tells us it's not socially acceptable to still be in bed."
He happily obliges.
//
You're wearing his shirt. There's a bleach stain at the rim, changing the dark brown fabric's chemical build up to include charming memories. Underneath you're wearing some shorts, specifically the wide kind.
"D'you have pancake batter?" He pushes his body against your back and reaches his arm out to open his wooden cabinet. "I actually do, this time," he proudly hums out as he lets his other arm snake around your waist. He's tall, so he has to bend himself to let his head rest on your shoulder. Yet again his hair tickles your face, a reminder to tell him to cut it in the summer so that he doesn't get a mini heatstroke. That, and actually being able to see would probably help him a lot more on the field then a heavy set of bangs.
"How about you make yourself useful and get some music started?" you mumble out against his cheek as you turn your head towards his. You end the request with a chaste peck and a grin. "And no geek stuff, pretty boy." He lets out a content sigh, swaying his body so that yours sways along.
"I'm not sure what you mean by 'geek stuff', ma'am," he whispers against your ear. You roll your eyes at his weak attempts to woo you. "No charming the cook, wise nose. Go put on something cheesy I can sing along to." He chuckles breathlessly as he lets go of you, lightly tapping your butt in a playful manner as he goes and sets up the music you need to muster up the energy to not burn the apartment down with your cooking.
You glance behind yourself to look at him, and he takes your air supply away, like a long-running sentence. There's too many feelings, too many things you can and want to say under the same breath.
His hair is messily combed back, which does basically nothing since a large part of it is still hanging in his face. His hands, nimble and scarred with situations he shouldn't have wanted to be in, are carefully setting up music as his collarbone is still in view; he hasn't bothered fixing his shirt.
He makes your very being flutter with love. It's the feeling of finally satisfying the years of yearning, like the first drop of tea you've had in months because stress made you forget how much you loved drinking it.
I'd like to stay in love with you
All summer and after fall
I'll keep you warm through the winter
Because I've noticed one thing
This ain't no summer fling
Your hips swing and your throat hums along as you get the pots and pans out. He's dancing too, in his little goofy way where he shuffles around and moves his arms around a little, allowing his eyes to close, his head to nod and his shoulders to involuntarily boogey along.
Kiss me, kiss me with your eyes closed
Whisper that your heart shows
All I want is you, yeah you
Come on now,
Hold me, hold me I'm your bunny
Tell me I'm not funny
Tell me I'm legit
"'Cause I feel weak, in your hand and your feet," he sings as he leans back to look at you, his eyes crinkled shut as he passionately blares out the lyrics and clutches his chest.
You laugh at his lovingly atrocious attempt at serenading you. Of course you reward him with a kiss on the cheek, giggling at the tickle of his stubble. "You're lucky I don't love you for your singing abilities, doctor."
"If you did, I'd be worried about what kind of people you would be willing to love in order to have a private concert."
"Zip it and cut up some bananas, you're gonna miss the flip."
"No no no no, I can't miss the flip!"
"Well then hurry your pretty butt over here because I'm about to do it."
"Wait wait wa- alright I'm ready, you may do it."
Laughter entangles together like the legs of a pair of lovers.
"You seriously need to stop enjoying that so much."
"The same way you should stop enjoying my magic tricks so much?"
"There's a difference between me flipping some wheat creation and you magically making a straw glide through paper, Spence."
"Not really, they're actually both just skills that need good hand-eye coordination, seeing that-"
A simple yet loving kiss shuts him up.
"Good morning, love."