Work Text:
Baby you don't have to rush
You can leave a toothbrush
At my place
At my place
We don't need to keep it hush
You can leave a toothbrush
At my place
At my place
Christophe moved about the room, gathering his clothing that laid scattered about. His head ached from the hangover he gained from drinking too much last night. He folded his clothes in a pile and set them on the dresser; he'd change later.
He went into the bathroom. His breath smelled horrid and he needed to get home before his parents became suspicious. They didn't know the brunet snuck out last night so he had to get back quick.
Gregory heard the shuffling in the room and the footsteps heading off into the bathroom. He opened his eyes and smiled softly. "What's the big rush Chris?" He propped up on one arm. "Can't you wait a little bit?" He leaned up some watching him walk off.
A few moments later, the blond got out of bed and started off to bathroom; leaning on the door frame. "You don't have to leave so soon. Just stay a while longer." Greg wrapped an arm around the tanner male's waist and kissed his cheek. "Are you afraid people will find out?"
Stuck in a limbo
Half hypnotized
Each time I let you stay the night, stay the night
Up in the morning
Tangled in sheets
We play the moment on repeat, on repeat
The brunet had followed the Brit home in a drunken haze, not caring if his parents found out or not. His mind was solely focused on the taller male and being able to be with him all night.
They had done this before. Gregory would let Chris stay the night at his place, drunk or not, just out of concern for his well-being. He would deny the offer at times, but he always ended up at the blond's home.
Morning would always come, having that little bit of sunlight come through the curtains and hit the bed. The nice white sheets that were once neatly done on the bed were always tossed and turned, wrinkled in everyway.
The two would lay tangled up in the sheets together, the events playing over and over in the the Brit's head. Getting drunk or not, making their way to Greg's house, slowly making their way to the bedroom. Then what happens...happens.
When you're standing there in your underwear
And my T-shirt from the night before
With your messed up hair
And your feet still bare
Would you mind closing the bedroom door (ah ooh)
Christophe would wake up earlier than the British male and head to the kitchen, grabbing a cup of water and Advil for his pounding head. He would return to the room with Gregory sitting up, waiting for his return.
His bare legs would be cold out of the comfort of the warm sheets and he'd shiver, pulling the orange button-up belonging to the adult closer around his body. He'd cover up some of his bare torso that was exposed and stare back at blond.
Gregory would usually just smirk softly. He always loved seeing the tanner male in his shirt; it was cute. The way it was too big for him and how it engulfed the poor smaller boy, it was just comforting for the paler male to see. He would always lay back down and wait for a moment.
"Before you get back in bed, do you mind closing the door?" This was always a thing that was said; wanting the door closed so they wouldn't be disturbed. The blond would always wait for the brunet with crazy, disheveled hair to shut the door and come back to the warmth of the bed.
Baby you don't have to rush
You can leave a toothbrush
At my place
At my place
We don't need to keep it hush
You can leave a toothbrush
At my place
At my place
'Cause I just, I just can't let you go
Give me something I never know
So baby you don't have to rush
You can leave a toothbrush
At my place
At my place
Christophe stayed over again. He was going to leave quicker this time; not stay for another few hours like he always did. He started up the water in the sink and grabbed an unused toothbrush.
Brush his teeth, get dressed, go home. He repeated the mantra over and over again, attempting to motivate himself to follow through with his plan. His dad had gone off on him when he came home late a few days ago. He didn't want that to happen again.
The Brit frowned sightly. He shrugged it off though and got up. "Chris come on". The blond made his way to the bathroom leaning on the door frame again. "Do you really have to leave?" Gregory wrapped his arms around Chris's waist and rested his chin on his shoulder.
"There's no need to rush." The boy closed his eyes and sighed softly. "A little while won't hurt anything." He hugged the tanner boy a bit tighter, never wanting to let go; never wanting him to leave. He had grown attached to the Frenchman and never wanted him the rush out every time he stayed over.
No need to question next time we meet
I know you're coming home with me, home with me
Sweat like a sauna
Break out the ice
I know you're gonna stay the night, stay the night
Everytime Chris had run into Greg, it was at the local bar in town. Every time he went there, he could spot the blond talking to the bartender. About what, he didn't know. After a few weeks of this happening, he learned not to question it.
He eventually learned not to question the Brit when he invited the brunet over for the night. He usually came to the conclusion that it was for his safety or the taller male just enjoyed his company. He did live alone after all.
Repeatedly, Gregory had taken Christophe home. No matter if he was drunk or not; he cared for the boy's safety...and his company wasn't bad either. Usually when Chris came to his place, they ended up in Greg's bedroom. The blond Brit would also lean down and kiss the other's neck, nipping at it every now and then. He always left hickies on the tan male.
Outside, it was cold. Always cold; until they made it into this position. Then warmth came and it came fast. This only added onto the feeling of wanting the other to never leave. The Frenchman would end up staying the night after that.
When you're standing there in your underwear
And my T-shirt from the night before
With your messed up hair
And your feet still bare
Would you mind closing the bedroom door (ah ooh)
One time when the brunet woke up, he didn't do his usual routine. Instead, he had gotten up and stood by Greg's side of the bed, waiting for him to wake up. Cold air on his thin legs made goosebumps rise on his skin and his teeth had chattered.
That time, he had worn an old t-shirt of Gregory's that sported their old high school mascot. It was the first thing he had spotted when waking up.
Greg had woken up not too long after and leaned up slightly, adjusting to the soft light. He saw Chris with one of his shirts and he smiled softly. He was still there. "Good morning..." The blond had a smile tugged at his lips.
He had laid back down. "Thought you'd be brushing your teeth by now." He kept his eyes opened and looked at the tan, French male. He admired every feature he had, as if this would be the last time he'd see him. He always hoped it wasn't though. Greg would miss the fluffed up hair and little bare feet in the morning. "Don't forget to close the door before climbing back in." He had said like always.
Baby you don't have to rush
You can leave a toothbrush
At my place
At my place
We don't need to keep it hush
You can leave a toothbrush
At my place
At my place
'Cause I just, I just can't let you go
Give me something I never know
So baby you don't have to rush
You can leave a toothbrush
At my place
At my place
Chris was only able to grab his jeans this time before hearing the bed shift. This happened everytime he stayed the night that it's become a pattern in his head stuck on repeat. It was tedious.
He looked over his shoulder - brown eyes meeting blue - and he sighed. The shorter male dropped his clothes in a pile and started towards the door, hesitating when his hand touched the knob. Why was he so much slower than usual?
Gregory smiled when his blue eyes met brown. The Frenchman's eyes just had something special about them. His smile faded slightly, however, when he saw Chris leave the bed. "Heading to the bathroom?" Greg didn't know why he asked, he already knew the answer. The other male always went to the bathroom in the morning when he stayed over. To brush his teeth and leave.
Though, like always, Greg protested. "It's so early; you can wait a few more hours can't you?" He just never wanted the tanner male to leave. It was an odd feeling for Gregory, he never felt this way about someone. He always had a fuzzy feeling around Chris and it stopped when he left, but Greg loved that feeling. He knew Chris just had something special about him. Something the Brit has never seen before. Something the Brit just wants to keep with him and be happy.
I don't want this to end
And there's no need to play pretend
If you stay with me again
Would you mind closing the bedroom door (ah ooh)
It was that one night that broke his routine. Broke his usual "get up and go" pattern. Chris was leaning against the door frame with a glass of water in hand. He had taken a pill earlier and was planning on going but...something had stopped him. It wasn't Gregory though, he was still asleep, it was something that he felt.
The boy had been coming over to the blond's place every night for the past few weeks, each ending up with him going home early the next day. He had thought for a moment, then finally realized it. If he truly wanted to leave the Brit, he wouldn't come back to his place every night. By coming back, he was showing that...he didn't want to leave. That he wanted this to last, not end.
It didn't take long after that for the blond to slowly wake up. Turning to his other side, his blue eyes opened. "Morning..." His voice was barley loud enough to be heard. He smiled softly; he was happy that Chris wasn't rushing at the moment. He was happy that he was actually still here. He watched the tan male lean on the doorframe.
"You look cold." Greg had said as he lifted the covers back some. "You can come back to bed...but can you close the door before you climb back in?" He peered over at the other male with a small, hopeful smile. He had a feeling that he was getting through to him. If he wasn't, hell, it'll just happen again tomorrow.
Baby you don't have to rush
You can leave a toothbrush
At my place
At my place
We don't need to keep it hush
You can leave a toothbrush
At my place
At my place
'Cause I just, I just can't let you go
Give me something I never know
So baby you don't have to rush
You can leave a toothbrush
At my place
At my place
Sunlight filtered it's way through the curtains, dust floating in the air. Chris was still in bed, watching the resting face of the Brit beside him. The mercenary thought Greg looked younger when he slept, like the many years of work washed away. Taking the time of the moment was better than rushing off without a goodbye. The brunet bit his lip nervously and leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss to the blond's eyelid.
Chris could feel his heart beat in his chest and he smiled, his cheeks tinted a light pink. He was in love with Gregory and he didn't care if anyone found out. No more leaving early and no more fearing the wrath of his dad. The smaller male would stay with Greg as long as he wanted. He curled into the sheets of the bed and snuggled against the blond's chest, slipping into sleep again.
The Brit felt something soft and warm on his eyelid. Then he felt warmth at his chest and he woke up, slightly alarmed. He looked down to a surprise; Chris was still here. Gregory was surprised that he hadn't gotten up and left yet. Not that he was complaining either; this is what he wanted. This is what he needed.
Greg smiled softly and wrapped an arm around the smaller male and laid with him. Birds singing their daily songs filled the silence in the air. The Brit leaned over some and placed a soft, gentle kiss on the Frenchman's forehead and smiled. Smoothing some of Chris's messy hair, the blond smiled and mumbled. "I'm glad you stayed...God, what is it the French say?" He paused for a moment, then spoke softly. "Je t'aime Christophe."