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"Move over, I want to get up," the voice came from below, amusement lingering in the sleep-addled tone. Every touch was a delicate and soothing coax into a blissful comfort; trailing along the nape of your neck in slow, circluar motions. It took an exhausting amount of effort to hold back the soft, content sounds that lodged in your throat
Kat had been doing that for a while; allowing her hands to wonder against your skin with innocent intent. She played with the hem of your top at first before they had settled against the nape of your neck to inspire a limp-kitten response; fiddling with the loose thread that threatened to unwind at a subtle touch. It was Bobby's in truth, one of those tops that he had taken a pair of scissors to; removing the folded hem and allowing his lower abdomen to peak out.
Always the early riser, Kat was already trying to escape the confines of the bed. Sometimes, you would wake up in the late morning and she was propped up against the headboard with a cup of steaming coffee. A ridiculous notion. How anyone could drag themselves out of bed with such ease was a mystery, let alone that early. It was borderline insanity.
"'s not my fault," you murmured against her collarbone, breathing warmly against her skin. It was comfortable. You wanted to melt into her like putty, moulding into her skin and staying there like some kind of anglerfish. Excessive? perhaps, but sometimes it felt like that when she was so gentle with you. Your hands were tucked between your chest and her abdomen. "You rolled onto my side of the bed again."
"It's my side," Kat replied softly, the exhausted murmur of her voice coaxed you from the warm embrace of slumber where nothing and everything existed for a brief moment of time. She gently rolled you over, shifting your weight towards the middle of the bed. It was easy enough in your state, malleable to her guidance. Kat pressed a kiss to your cheek, chaste and reassuring, before clambering across the old mattress, causing it to dip unevenly. You ignored it, hiking your leg up on one side to get more comfortable and struggled to grip the duvet that had been shoved off your figure while turning in your sleep, before tugging it up over your shoulders to hide beneath. Instinctively, you sought out the other body occupying the bed. Bobby was on his front, one arm above his head and gripping the pillow in a loose grasp while he dreamed. A content sigh escaped your mouth at the gentle lull of sleep dragging back over you mercifully.
There was some rustling in the bedroom, trudging footsteps connecting against the floorboards. You squinted and stared at the sleeping figure beside you, annoyed that he hadn't woken up. Still, you inched closer and nuzzled your face against the soft and warm surface of his bicep, closing your eyes and smelling the comforting and familiar scent of pot that lingered on his skin. Slowly, second by second, you were coaxed back into that loose state of mind that slowed your breathing.
An incoherent mumble was pressed against the plush surface of the pillow beside you, smothering the sound in the cotton fabric and holding it safely within the fibres. Then shifting, almost jostling you as Bobby lifted his head just enough to study the soft, elongated glow that stretched from the bathroom for a moment and then rested his brow on your arm. "Its like 5am, what the fuck." His voice was thick with the weight of exhaustion. There was a firm pressure of his forehead as he leaned languidly into you. He had laid his arm over your lower back while the other was pressing down on the mattress. With a sharp blooming ache snapping against your ass, you were roused awake again with an agitated groan. You limply threw your arm back at whoever had smacked you, missing him completely and tucking your hands beneath your chest again. He snorted at your halfhearted attempt at retaliation, and then sighed at your lack of a response. Bobby wanted you to deal with the light that had disrupted his sleep. "Kat," he murmured, not shifting from his position, breathing in consistent heavy exhales and slow inhales. "Kat," a little louder. "Fuckin' hell." And then he lifted his head up and let out a "Kat!" his voice cracking slightly with the heavy weight of exhaustion
"Bobby," you groaned, turning your head to face the opposite direction and getting the horrid, sudden light burning into your eyes. You squinted, shifting your arm to shield against the florescent light that ruthlessly cast over you both. "Fuck... Kat!"
There was a "hmph?" sound, followed by gentle padding of footsteps on tile. And then standing in the doorway, toothbrush hanging from her mouth was Kat. She looked oblivious; a slight furrow to her brows, eyes a little wide and toothpaste trailing down her chin. The top that was distinctly the exact one that Bobby had discarded at the bottom of the bed last night in his haste to follow you both into the rumpled sheets was now hanging on her frame loosely.
"Babe, what the fuck," he groaned and squinted at the bathroom light invading the comfort of their bed.
"What?" Kat frowned at his tone.