Pumpkin Spice Latte

October 2nd, 2020

💕 = Lachlan
😈 = Byron
🏋️‍♂️ = Alex
☀️ = Sol

~•~

It's barely a minute past midnight and Sol is awake. While not totally abnormal, Alex wonders how long it will take for his blond lover to roll over and realise Alex is watching him.

He hasn't had a chance to talk to Sol about the text he sent yet. Truthfully, he's a little relieved about it. Alex isn't sure how to breach the subject that, okay, yes, the thought of Sol dressed all pretty and sweet in a skirt does something to him. He's sure it'll do something to Byron and Lachlan, too.

It doesn't have to mean anything. People who wear skirts and people who wear pants are one in the same, there shouldn't be a divide that one is more dominant than the other, there shouldn't be an assumption that one is weaker than the other. Alex knows that those assumptions are why Sol hesitates.

Sol was raised in a household that put conservative social norms onto everything. He didn't have a chance to develop his own ideas until he met Byron. While their blond-haired lover is open-minded and open-hearted, Alex notices moments like this, when something catches him unaware, and he doesn't know how to respond.

Now, Sol stares at the ceiling, fingers interlaced on his chest. The moonlight casts a silvery light across the bedroom, and Alex can see Sol's eyes flickering in an internal monologue.

Between them, Byron and Lachlan are curled together. The night took it out of their youngest, and Alex expects that when Lachlan wakes up in the morning, he'll be sore and covered in small, bite-like bruises. The thought doesn't help the simmering arousal pooling in Alex's lower stomach, arousal that's already present from the thought of putting Sol in a skirt.

Ah, his pleasures really are simple.

With that thought in mind, Alex rolls over and sits up. Sol's eyes are instantly on him and Alex turns to gaze at his oldest lover across the bed. He holds Sol's eye for a second before nodding towards the door.

Alex slips out first. He heads into the living area, flicking on the lamp in the corner before shifting Apricot and Robin from the middle of the couch to make room for himself and Sol. The cats grouch a little but curl up on the ottoman Alex settles them on, falling back to sleep almost instantly.

A minute later, the bedroom door clicks shut and floorboards creak as Sol comes to join him on the couch. Alex doesn't say anything as he takes Sol's hand, guiding him to sit down.

"Alex..."

"I love you."

Sol gives him a deadpan look. Alex smiles, cupping his lovers cheek before drawing him in for a kiss. It's gentle and soft and reminds Alex of everything good in the world. Sol always does.

"I've been wanting to talk to you all night," Alex admits. "About that text."

Sol tenses but doesn't draw away, which Alex counts as a win.

"We really don't need to..."

"I love you," Alex repeats. The reminder is necessary.

Sol shuts his mouth with an audible click of his teeth, and he swallows, his throat bobbing. A blush crawls it's way up his throat from his chest and it's such a beautiful sight, Alex wants to lean forward and trail kisses down the pinky-red skin.