Morning Bliss

Lucca could think of nothing more he loves than moments like these.

Except a few rounds of hot, steamy sex. But he digresses.

It's when the early morning sun washes through the blinds and paints their tidy, but clearly lived-in room with warm columns of light. As Lucca blinks his bleary eyes, he registers a few things. One would be the crickets chirping annoyingly from the window, then the biting cold beyond the comfort of the blankets. Another would be that it's way too fucking early for him to be awake.

He breathes in, out, pauses to savor the feeling of a peaceful morning, and then promptly curls into the sheets.

At this, he finally notices the body next to him.

He feels the brush of skin, the tickle of soft tufts of hair on his chin and collar, as well as a familiar wetness on his chest indicating that, once again, his lover has drooled on him.

There's that moment of exasperation—he really isn't fond of being slobbered over—but as always, Lucca's heart melts upon a glance down.

There's a head of short, chocolate brown hair, groomed eyebrows, and dark eyelashes splayed over cheeks spotted with those adorable little freckles Lucca loves so much. With a small smile, his drowsy eyes travel down indulgently. There's his parted, pouty, bitten lips and the barely-there scar on his strong jawline. Further down, down to his delicate collar bone, and along the lithe, freckled arm that, curled tightly into the sheets, hides the rest of his beautiful body from Lucca's eyes. (That would soon have to change, he decided.)

This gorgeous creature...

He is Rory.

And he's all mine, he thinks.

Lucca smiles fondly and just lays there, contently stroking his younger lover's skin. It must have been a lifetime before Rory even stirs. The brunet huffs, shifts slightly, and Lucca swears it's a breath-taking moment when those gorgeous blue-green eyes open.

They find his own muddy brown ones which, in his mind, pale by comparison.

Rory rubs at his eyes and mumbles something unintelligible. He snuggles into his chest and Lucca smirks, tightening his tattooed arms around the smaller man.

“Morning, love,” he says in the low voice he know Rory loves. “Sleep well?”

He yawns cutely, giving his head a little shake as he often did, and slowly nods.

“Good, give us a kiss?”

Rory's lips quirk as he traces patterns into the older man's chest, catching his eyes teasingly with his own. “Nah. I have morning breath.”

“Hell if I care.” With that, Lucca sweeps down and steals a kiss. Looking back, it might have been messy, dry between their sleep-chapped lips, and he almost misses, but in that moment it's just right.

The brunet all but purrs, throwing an arm around his neck and deepening it into something more passionate. Lucca smirks and runs a hand along his leg, pulling it over his waist and bringing Rory to hover over him. There's a short battle of teeth and tongue and roaming hands, before Rory yawns.

“Really?”

“Oh I'm sorry. Who is it again that kept me up with his raging libido?”

Lucca grins apologetically.

Rory smiles and takes a slow nip-and-lick at his neck. He closes his eyes and sighs, rolling them back as they were before. Bringing Rory flush against him by the small of his back, he curls around him protectively. The smaller boy's head is once again tucked beneath his chin and their legs intertwine.

Rory looks at him curiously through his long lashes.

“Go back to sleep, love.”

And, as he presses a sweet little kiss to the top of his head, he can't help but feel blessed.

This beautiful creature?

His.

All his.

“All mine.”

“All yours.”