Mornings

David loved mornings, especially when they weren’t on tour, because it meant Dan. Dan who wakes up with coffee and a cigarette without fail. Dan who even with bed hair and voice still shot through with sleep was still utterly irresistible. Dan who, on Saturdays, has aforementioned coffee & cigarettes on the couch with David; watching kids cartoon legs tangled and bodies touching. Sometimes, when mid-tour insomnia set in, Dan would sit with David watching the sunrise. No-one else around. They would sit for minutes, hours, who knows; stealing nicotine-stained kisses from coffee-tainted lips. David’s head nestled in the crook of Dan’s neck, fingers intertwined, enjoying the view in a new city every day. The best part about mornings, though, had to be waking up to Dan’s affectionate eyes most days. He loved how Dan mostly woke up before him but never disturbed him, just watched him in his peaceful slumber. Sometimes, when David would wake up before Dan he’d lay there just staring, staring at the way Dan looked so peaceful, serene, perfect and turning over in his head that he had this beautiful soul for himself. He had Dan, no-one else did. Utter bliss.