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It’s warm.
… Really warm.
Did you forget to pay the electricity bill?
You remember setting it to autopay, though.
And you very clearly remember receiving the confirmation text that it went through too, so, what gives?
You blearily crack an eyelid open, only to be immediately assailed by the sun beaming high in the sky - right through the window adjacent to your bed frame.
And the accursed curtains you absolutely forgot to draw close before falling asleep last night.
The groan you expel speaks volumes to how you feel towards the you of last night.
Your gradually waking brain idly laments over how it must have felt outside for it to turn your tiny apartment into Satan’s personal bachelor pad.
And honestly? You could’ve willed yourself back to sleep, by sheer force of will and the motivation that a day off from work provided, if not for the gradual realization that you were not alone.
Which would explain the drastic temperature shift from the night before.
There was only one person in Linkon bold enough to maneuver you into being the little spoon in the confines of your own bed.
And had the external temperature of a 10,000 watt conventional oven.
But, just for good measure…
You pinch the toned bicep cushioning your head to test the waters, noting that your pillow was also conveniently missing.
The offended huff of air and grumble that followed elicited a laugh out of you.
Ever the penchant for mischief, you blindly reach behind you to further annoy the person glued to the length of your spine.
A larger hand easily immobilizes you of your offending limb, long callused fingers wrapping loosely around your wrist. “Busted.”
Another exhale of breath kisses the skin of your fingers, “Should I read you your Miranda rights, pip?”
His sleepy timbre was equal parts amused and reproachful, his hold on you just as languid.
You roll onto your opposing side in order to regain custody of your arm, and come face to face with your would-be captor.
Caleb.
You nearly catch him in the chin with your forehead when you readjust yourself comfortably back onto his arm, peering up at him innocently. “What’s my sentencing looking like this time, officer?”
His lopsided smile gives way to a chuckle at your antics this early in the morning.
But he always, without fail, never fails to take the bait.
The only time he’s a good sport, unfortunately, is when the two of you bicker. Ironic.
“Attempted assault of an active duty pilot is one of them, “ He cheeks back, letting go of your wrist in favor of mussing up your already terrible bedhead.
“Excuse you, it was an act of self defense. I was well within my rights,” You return the sass ten-fold, “There’s also an eight foot tall intruder in my bed, who is actively turning me into hotpot.”
Caleb continues to mess with your hair, pinching a bundle by your ear and using it to tickle the tip of your nose. “It’s my fault you’re a two foot tall pipsqueak? Should I take responsibility for my itty bitty baby’s shortcomings?”
You lunge at his hand, feigning an attempt to bite his hand. He looses your hair and instead traps your nose between his middle and index, “I thawed your glaciers for feet out of the kindness of my heart and this is the thanks I get?”
Scoffing, you manage a quick nip to his palm this time and then playfully swat his hand away, “Guilty as charged,” Caleb grins down at you. “I suppose I deserve a fair sentencing for my indiscretions. What’s my punishment, sheriff?”
You instantly regret your teasing remark when you can practically see the cogwheels turning behind his eyes, an immediate expression of smug delight crossing his features.
That was a can of worms you did not want to unleash immediately upon waking up.
You swiftly reach over to pinch his lips shut, your visage equal parts exasperated and amused, “You’re going to have a field day trying to figure out the new door code combo next time you walk in unannounced if you actually decide to answer that.”
Huffing amusedly, Caleb slides the digits of his free hand up your palm, loosing free from your vice grip on his mouth whilst lacing his fingers through yours in one fluid movement.
You refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing how smooth that was, even if it’s true. He already had a big head, there was no need to unnecessarily inflate it further.
“Might wanna retire variations of mine, yours and gran’s birthdays if you want to actually keep me out.” He snarks back, turning your hand over in order to plant a chaste kiss just below the knuckle of your index finger. “And my enlistment date, too. … Nooooot that I’m complainin’ or anything.”
He had the audacity to throw in a wink. Cheeky bastard.
“… I’ve decided that you’re insufferable and I hate your guts actually,” You roll your eyes and bury your face into the crook of his shoulder with a long-suffering sigh. “I’m logging out. Don’t bother me.”
The slight upturn of your mouth before you forfeited your faux argument with him didn’t go unnoticed however.
Caleb committed everything you did to memory, a habit born from growing up alongside you since early childhood; being hyperaware of anything and everything that revolved around you was just as essential as breathing air.
Not many people kept a personal mental rolodex of another’s resting heart rate when they were both awake and asleep. Not anyone of sane mind, at least.
If it had been quite literally anyone else, you would have considered a restraining order.
Not that your own methods weren’t just as similarly possessive in nature. You obsessively notated any and all of his micro expressions down to the dimpling in his jaw when he was upset.
Truly two halves of a whole, the two of you.
Caleb laughs good-naturedly at your theatrics, tugging you in closer by the small of your back. His nose burrowing itself into the crown of your head as he mumbled, “Missed you too, sunshine.”
The nickname brings a smile to your face but also a sudden realization; you rear back slightly to look up at him with a furrowed brow.
This time your head does make contact with his chin, eliciting a pained groan as he geared up for another one of your tangents.
“You!” You narrow your eyes up at him, “When did you come in last night? How long are you authorized to be able to stay for this time?”
You huff out the last part, “And why didn’t you close the curtain before getting into bed! Are you trying to give me a heat stroke?”
You question him in rapid succession, earning a placating kiss between your furrowed eyebrows.
The red mark blooming where the top of your skull connected with his face does elicit some guilt, your other hand subconsciously reaching out to gently massage the area.
Caleb nuzzles your hand in silent appreciation as you openly scowl at him in turn.
He seizes the opportunity to clear his name while you simultaneously pretend to scrub at the spot his lips had been mere seconds ago.
“Around one in the mornin’. Give or take,” He answers back amicably, gently nosing your hand away so that his forehead comfortably rests against yours. All while maintaining steady eye contact, no less.
“Remember how I said I’d be visiting soon? Wanted to surprise ya… so, I kept it vague on purpose,” He admits a bit sheepishly, nosing at your cheek when you look about ready to tear him a new one.
Which, in your defense, was warranted. He did feed you a tiny white lie, saying that he would be busy the rest of the week.
“It was all part of my diabolical plan for you to start the new day wanting to wring my neck,” He grins boyishly, “Plus, you’re so cute when you’re mad… You and those adorable feral cats outside your complex have so much in common… Should we adopt one?”
He continues to poke fun, the corners of his lips quirked into one of mirth, as you attempt to fix him with your signature stink eye. “You’re only proving my point, y’know.”
You roll your eyes at him as if annoyed but he can see right through your antics. The twitch of your lips as you fight back a smile doesn’t go unseen.
You’re just as happy to see him as he is to see you.
“That’s rich, coming from the oversized retriever taking up most of my bed right now …” You grumble before impatiently nudging Caleb to lay on his back, enabling you to curl on top of him with a drawn out sigh. “Much better.”
On auto-pilot, he moves to adjust the pillows underneath him to better cushion his spine and maneuvers you slightly so that you’re situated a bit more comfortably on the firm planes of his body.
You mutter under your breath about him moving too much to which only causes the man to smile good-naturedly down at your wrinkled brow.
“Copy that, babe.” Your snort of amusement and loose-limbed attempt at pinching him in retaliation earned you a chuckle from him in return.
He rests one of his palms on the small of your back, his fingers drawing nonsensical patterns onto the exposed skin of your hip from when your sleep shirt rode up slightly in your effort to climb him like a koala.
His other hand settles at your nape just underneath your jaw, his thumb climbing upwards to smooth over the apple of your cheekbone as he gazes down at your sleep-mussed bedhead with utmost adoration.
You respond in kind by nuzzling into his palm, contentedly sighing through your nose as you comfortably doze off.
Caleb commits this moment to memory, stowing it away to recall later during his inevitable return to Skyhaven.
Being apart from you for several weeks, let alone even a few hours, was hard enough as is.
If he could stay attached to your hip at all hours of the day, he would make it happen.
He could make it happen.
However, Caleb chose to respect your autonomy above all else, tamping down his incessant thoughts of keeping you safe at all costs. By any means necessary.
He recalls how smoothly that went down the first time. And he didn’t want to risk losing you ever again.
Caleb feels you shift in your sleep, effectively rousing him out of his spiraling thoughts. The hand that was loosely clinging to the fabric of his t-shirt slid from his sternum to nestle in the crook of his shoulder.
When he feels your nails gently pass through the shorter strands of hair at the base of his neck, he can’t help but to breathe out a relieved laugh.
Even in the throes of dreamland you can sense when his thoughts take an unceremonious turn in the wrong direction, your fingers unconsciously moving in order to keep him grounded.
What would he do without you?
While falling back asleep with you curled up on top of him would typically be an ideal start to his day, especially with how you looked right at this moment; like a cat basking under the sun by the windowsill. He had other plans in store for you.
And said plans required the both of you to be horizontal and outside of your apartment.
Caleb gave your hip a few firm yet gentle pats: His first attempt at rousing the beast.
Zero response.
“C’mon, wakey wakey…” He tries again, adjusting his tactic by snaking his palm under the hem of your shirt.
Just that action alone would have ordinarily done the job for him but you remained blissfully unaware; sans instinctively edging away from his creeping hand as it climbed higher.
Without much preamble, he dug his fingers into your ribcage.
You jolt awake at being suddenly prodded at, your knee-jerk bodily reaction to shirk away from the offending hand.
Neither of you foresaw you actively tipping off of him and the side of the bed as a result, though.
If not for Caleb’s quick reflexes, you would’ve become well-acquainted with your bedroom floor.
You had intrinsically kept your eyes closed, bracing for an impact that never came.
The weightless sensation of Caleb’s evol had come to your rescue, much to your immediate chagrin once your brain caught up to the situation at hand.
You slowly reopen your eyes only to meet a pair of amused violets peering down at you from the foot of your bed, his cheek pressed languidly into the crook of his palm.
Caleb uttered not a single word and yet his expression alone spoke volumes.
Exhaling as much air as you could muster, face and nape hot with embarrassment, you pointedly look away from his face while simultaneously extending your arms upwards.
“… Uppies?” Caleb manages with a wobbly smile, laughter clear as day in his voice.
Your answering glare is downright lethal.
He actually does laugh this time. “Alright, alright, I got you.”
His arms, now securely wrapped around your middle, shake from poorly concealed laughter as he effortlessly lifts you back onto the bed.
You wrap your limbs around his torso for the extra security, digging the heels of your feet into his back as a form of payback.
You didn’t think it was petty enough, though, as you geared up to use your center of gravity to body slam him back onto the bed.
And he is no sooner swiftly muffled by a well placed pillow to the face. His answering “oof” music to your ears.
You may have been half of Caleb’s torso and some inches tall but you didn’t earn your title as a hunter through any shabby means.
“I almost broke my neck and died and you’re laughing!!” You dramatically retell what he saw with his own eyes, all while taking cheap shots at his torso with his vision still obscured.
Caleb was, unfortunately for you, not ticklish. At all.
But, that tiny voice in the back of your head always egged you on to keep trying anyway, in the mere hopes that you found his weak point someday.
Your attempts were met with hearty laughter, but not in the way you wanted; it was clearly at your expense.
You felt the firm tug of Caleb’s manipulation once again, this time preventing you from whacking him with the pillow for the nth time.
“Temporary truce?” He interjects, chuckling from underneath you.
Your eyes narrow slightly but you allow him to direct the pillow to lay back on the bed next to your thigh. “… Fine. But, you’re on thin ice.”
Caleb flashes you a smile and pats your knee, signaling for you to get up.
Ever the brat, you instead lean forward and prop your elbows up on his chest, cradling your chin in your palms.
Caleb just shakes his head at you, “As much as I’d love to roll around in bed with you all morning…”
Your only warning is the movement of his arms snaking under your thighs before he effortlessly shifts from supine to standing in one fluid movement with you in tow.
“You and I,” He pauses to peck the corner of your mouth, “Are going on a date.”
That melts the pout right off of your lips.
“Remember that link you texted me the other day?”
Confused, you try to recall past texts between the two of you—
You gasp, “You got them? For today?”
You hadn’t the means nor the time to attend many non-educational shows as a student, and to this day still hadn’t been entirely successful.
You weren’t struggling monetarily nor had to be nose deep in overtly wordy textbooks these days but the grueling work-life balance didn’t exactly allow for much flexibility.
His lips move to regale the tale of how he managed to snag limited showing tickets for an artist you’d been devoutly following since college. (Spoiler: He touted his title and got what he wanted. Abusing his status for your happiness was never out of the question.)
But before he can get the chance to preen, you were cupping his cheeks and planting a chaste kiss on that very mouth of his.
“Those seats sold out in literal minutes and you somehow snagged two?” You stare at him in mild disbelief.
Part of you had an inkling as to the how but knew that Caleb wouldn’t be partial to sharing that particular secret.
“VIP tickets, by the way.” Caleb tacks on, grinning.
You proceed to pepper his entire face with a litany of kisses, affectionate ‘thank you’s’ uttered in-between.
Satisfied that you left not a single patch of skin on Caleb’s handsome face untouched, you beam at him.
“I’ve decided to forgive you for almost letting me fall to my death not even five minutes ago.”
He snorts, “Safe to assume you’re wide awake now?”
You nod back, chipper. You wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep now even if you had wanted to.
Caleb looks up at you fondly as he starts to amble his way towards your bathroom, “What’d you want for breakfast, squirt?”
You pretend to look annoyed at the nickname; he can tell off the bat when you’re being theatrical.
“Sichuan stir-fry noodles à la Caleb. It’s a new recipe I plan to put into play today.”
Like right now.
The ingredient in question grins, one-handedly opening the door while simultaneously nudging it open to allow the two of you entry. “Do we really want a repeat of what happened to that cast-iron wok? Y’know, the one you somehow, quite literally, melted the bottom off of?”
Seconds after he shuts the door closed behind him, the resounding echo of your hand connecting with his bicep is not far behind.
It was almost nearly muted by Caleb’s boisterous laughter.
“That was seven years ago!”