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Summary
With a small smile, Garcia asks, “What time is it?”
Remnants of sleep still cling to the edges of her words, and as Santos revels in the way her husky voice thrums against her, she almost wishes that she could bear witness to this version of Garcia every morning.
It’s a wish that hovers shiftily in the corners of her conscious awareness, one that evaporates whenever she tries to look at it directly. But she allows its peripheral presence to persist, offers it a silent truce; and so that desire floats its way into her body and becomes manifest in the slightest of her movements instead.
“Early,” she murmurs, before returning to Garcia’s neck with her teeth so as to bite back any words that she wouldn’t be able to take back.
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garsantos morning sex -> shower sex. they’re still casual tho!!! obviously!!!! so stop asking them