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Morning came slow and warm, sunlight pouring in like syrup. Laurence screwed his eyes closer shut as the gaps in the window failed to protect him from the sunrise, twisting slightly to try and escape the light. There were so many more pillows on his bed then he had realized, because trying to move an inch up, down, or side-to-side got complicated real fast – and frankly he just wanted to go back to sleep and enjoy his day off. He reached out a hand to bully some pillows out of his way (there were so many pillows, how did they all get there-), his eyes still shut, when he hit something fleshy and warm that was most definitely not his son because Malachi ran colder than anyone Laurence had ever met.
He blinked open his eyes, squinting against the light. Against his wishes, he sat up slightly as well to investigate who the hell was in his bed and what poor decisions last night had led to this.
His walls were not the same color they were last night, nor was the full-size bed he currently laid in the twin-size bed he collapsed in twelve hours ago. The sheets were softer and again, the fucking pillows were everywhere, of different shape, size, and pillow-ness. In the corner by the door, Laurence picked out his shirt in a small pile of laundry that sat there which checked out, but nothing about the rest of the room was familiar and a small hint of nervousness was finally taking root in his chest.
He looked over to the person near his side, his forehead tense and creased, and rather anti-climatically realized just where he was.
They’d gone to Aph’s last night, and had a couple glasses of wine too much. They sat giggling in her living room for hours, trading stories about their kids, work, and then when stories became scarce, started trading kisses instead.
He remembered her calloused hands running just under the edge of his shirt and how eagerly he’d pulled it off if only to get her to hold more of him. She’d let him tie her hair up out of the way and he pressed soft kisses all the way down her neck just to hear her breath catch and that sweet, sweet hum coming from the base of her throat.
He remembered Aphmau pressing him into the bed, leaning over him. With adoration in her eyes, she promised she’d take care of him. She hadn’t even done anything close to what he thought she would do – at least at first. For a solid half an hour, she just combed her hands gently through his hair and told him how beautiful he was.
He remembered pressing his face into her bare stomach, tracing the stretch marks along her side and kissing the ones he could reach. The intimacy, both then and now, overwhelmed him, and the familiar feeling of nearly losing it at his proximity to her came rushing back.
She laid with her back to him, the sheets covering her but leaving her shoulders bare. They were covered in small pock marks, a reminder of years of an anxious fidget that never truly went away, and errant curls slipped down from how he’d gathered them on the top of her head. She breathed in, out, in, out, in, and out again. The rhythm was so steady and so deeply reassuring that he found himself breathing in time with her.
Laurence laid back down, drawing closer to her, and gently settled his arm around his waist to be able to pull Aphmau closer to his chest. For being dead to the world, she went rather willingly. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, less a kiss and more seeking affirmation that she was truly there in front of him. The low, sugar-sweet hum slipped out of her in her sleep; Laurence buried his face into her hair and breathed in shakily. He was unsurprised to find himself close to tears.
“Go back to sleep, Laur,” Aph murmured, moving her hand to settle over his. “Day hasn’t started yet.”
Laurence didn’t respond, but he tightened his grip on her and pressed his face further into her hair. She ran her nails gently up his arm and he knew that she knew that words would not be coming. Words were not enough in this moment, he thought. How could he speak when all he could think of was the warmth that was making itself a permanent fixture in his bones?
That was alright though. Aphmau drifted back into sleep and Laurence followed her quickly after, wrapped up in each other’s affection. Words would come later. Now, they would rest.