Suicide Blonde

He hurried to turn his alarm off, cursing under his breath as he accidentally knocked his phone off the nightstand and sent it clattering onto the hardwood floor. He cringed, not so much about the shattered condition his phone screen was possibly now in, but whether or not he had disturbed your sleep. He was trying his hardest not to wake you, and after all that noise, he knew he probably hadn't succeeded. You had to give him an "A" for effort for trying at least, but you were indeed awake. It wasn't entirely his fault though. You had been blessed with the misfortune of never being able to sleep through even the slightest sound since the day you were born.

He sat up on the edge of the bed and yawned, grumbling as he finally stood up and shuffled to the bathroom. Neither one of you liked to get up early. And it was early, too early, one of those days he had to be on set at the crack of dawn. You waited for the sound of the water running in the shower before you snuck off to the kitchen to make him breakfast.

It was still black as night outside the kitchen window as you put on a fresh pot of coffee, counting down the seconds until you could taste that early morning caffeine rush and give your brain a jumpstart. You then went about whipping him up a quick breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast.

You had just set his plate and coffee on the table when he walked into the kitchen. He went straight for you, grabbing you in a tight embrace from behind, nuzzling his scruffy chin against your cheek. "I'm sorry I woke you up. You forgive me?"

You turned around in his arms to face him. He looked so damn cute with his hair still damp from the shower, his blue eyes drowsy with sleep and his lips stretched into a lazy smile. How could you ever be mad at him?

"It's ok, baby," you assured him, giving him a kiss before you both sat down at the table. "I had already planned on making you breakfast anyways. Besides, I can always take a nap later." You smirked and nudged his leg under the table with your foot. "And, we both know you'll end up falling asleep again somewhere. The make-up chair, or some random prop couch, middle of a scene," you teased.

He chuckled. "That is exactly what I'm gonna do, and I can't wait to do it.  Mostly just to fuck with Gunn for making me get up this early," he joked.

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After the two of you were finished eating, he grabbed his backpack and keys and wrapped you up in one last hug before he had to leave. "Hey, let's go out for dinner later when I get home, hm?"

"That sounds fine with me," you replied.

"Well, I mean if you still wanna be seen in public with me after today," he grinned.

Your face scrunched up. "What does that mean?" you puzzled.

"Nothing. Nevermind." He was trying his best not to laugh.

"Nooo, tell me," you whined. "Why wouldn't I wanna be seen with you in public, you goofball?"

"Nope. Can't tell you. It's a surprise." With another quick kiss and an "I love you", he was out the door before you could ask him another question, leaving you standing there wondering what on earth this surprise could be. Heaven knows with him it could be anything.

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That evening, you heard the back door to the kitchen open and close, followed by the familiar sound of his keys hitting the countertop.

A few seconds later, he walked into the living room. "Surprise!"

You looked up from your laptop to see him standing there, his baseball cap in one hand, his other hand toying with the curls on his head.

Your jaw nearly hit the floor. "Oh...my...God...come...here."

He busted out laughing and flopped down on the couch next to you. When he had walked out the door that morning, he had left with a head full of brown curls and three weeks worth of a fuzzy, salt and pepper beard. He had returned home a bleached blonde and not a trace of stubble to be found on his face.

"So? Whadda ya' think?"

You sat your laptop on the coffee table and moved closer to him. "Ummm...well, it's...different," you giggled, running both of your hands through his hair. "But, yeah, I like it."

"You really like it or you just saying that?" he asked, wondering if you were just being nice.

"No. Really, I like it. I mean I never thought of you as a blonde before, but I'm kinda digging it." You inched closer to him still and straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and twirling the newly blond curls on the back of his head with your fingers. "It's actually pretty sexy."

"Yeah?" he smiled and ran his tongue on the inside of his cheek. His hands instinctively slid down to cup your ass, and he inhaled sharply as you started grinding against his crotch.

"Uh-huh," you nodded, leaning down to leave a trail of slow, soft kisses along his jawline, noticing how strange it was to not feel his scruff against your skin. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch, sighing as you whispered in his ear. "It's making me want you..right....now."

He swallowed hard, his breath beginning to quicken as he watched your fingers graze down his chest, lifting up the bottom of his t-shirt to get at his jeans. You could see the outline of his cock under the black denim becoming more defined every second.

"You wanna maybe postpone dinner for a bit? See if what they say is actually true?" You unbuttoned his jeans and took your sweet time unzipping them.

"If what's true?" he rasped, suddenly finding it hard to concentrate on the conversation as you slipped your hand inside his underwear.

"That blondes really do have more fun," you purred, wrapping your fingers around his cock, stroking him in a torturous, slow pace until he couldn't take it anymore.

He grinned, and his eyes burned wild as he flipped you onto your back on the couch. He yanked his shirt over his head like it was on fire and threw it across the living room. "I think I already know what the answer's gonna be, but let's find out anyway," he growled and buried his face against your neck, nipping and kissing as he tugged down your jeans.

After the third round testing out that old saying, you both decided to just stay in and order pizza.