12 Days of Christmas.

December 11th

You woke with a start, Tom's phone ringing somewhere in the room pulling you from your slumber. Keeping your eyes tight shut, you pulled an arm out from underneath your pillow, flinging it out to the side until your palm connected with Tom's back. He didn't stir, just snored louder.

"Tom," you murmured, voice muffled as you lay on your stomach, face down in the pillow.

Your arm thumped against his back again when he didn't respond, harder this time. He grumbled, but didn't move, his phone still ringing loudly from the floor.

"Tom!" you grumbled, turning your head on the pillow to face him.

His position mirrored yours, arms bent at the elbow and tucked under the pillow, lying on his stomach with the sheets tangled around his legs. His shoulders tensed as he clutched the pillow, shaking his head as he fought against consciousness.

"Phone," you muttered - anything more than one syllable was too much for you at this stage.

Groaning, Tom stretched an arm out over the edge of the bed. His hand skipped over lace and suede, tossing aside your bra and one of your boots before finding the denim of his jeans. The bed creaked as he shook them, not coordinated enough to search through the pockets, until his phone fell to the floor with a thump, still ringing obnoxiously.

"'Lo?" he croaked, answering the call without looking at the screen, just bringing the phone to his ear.

You lay still, willing yourself to go back to sleep before you fully woke up. It seemed like Tom had gone back to sleep, his head on the pillow with the phone lying against his cheek, the voice coming through the speakers too quiet for you to hear.

"Mmh," he mumbled, yawning as whoever was on the other end of the line pressed him for a more coherent response. "Yeah. 'Kay. Mmmhmm. I will. Yep. Yes, mum. m'Kay, bye."

You opened one eye, your vision blurry as you watched him toss his phone back onto the floor. You shuffled closer to him, nudging your nose against his arm. Tom twisted to face you, rolling onto his back and lifting his arm to let you tuck your head underneath. You wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his breath warm on your scalp as he attempted to stifle a yawn.

"That was my mum," he mumbled into your hair, draping his arm over yours across his torso. "Wants us to go over for dinner."

You just grunted sleepily in reply.

"M'gonna shower," Tom yawned again, but he didn't make any attempt get up.

You hummed again, nodding, but you didn't move either. Your body was slowly coming to life, and it was not happy about the amount of wine you drank last night. Nothing too drastic, but your head was pounding and your tongue felt like sandpaper in your mouth.

Twisting your arm, you lifted Tom's forearm up to your face, squinting at the watch on his wrist. You groaned when you saw the time, dropping his arm and burying your face in his chest again.

" 'time's it?"

"Half two," you lifted your head just enough to let the words out, your nose smushed against Tom's chest.

"Cool," Tom's arms tightened around you, his body relaxing further into the mattress. "Mum said seven for dinner. Loads of time."

You chuckled softly, pushing his arms away from your body so you could sit up. You yawned widely, the sound breaking into a breathy laugh as you looked down. The duvet had slipped down when you sat up, revealing Tom's naked body.

"Ignore that," he mumbled, pulling the duvet up over his semi-hard cock and turning onto his side. "Need to pee."

"What a shame," you sighed dramatically, throwing the covers back. "Here I was, ready to suck you off-"