Like Gods

[38] waking up slow

He opened his eyes slowly, feeling the tiredness disappearing from his limbs and mind at a leisurely pace. For a second, he panicked, the knowledge of it being Monday dawning on him, but just as soon as the panic was there, it was gone and he relaxed back down. It was break. Blinking a few times, he smiled. The warmth radiating from next to him distracted him from the fact that half of the cover that had warmed him throughout the night was now mostly gone, wrapped around the person laying oh, so close. 

Chris was still fast asleep, his soft dark hair falling across his face and Dylan couldn't help but gently push the stray locks away. He scooted down slightly on the bed, turning his entire body so that they were face to face, and rested his head on his own arm. Chris seemed so peaceful and Dylan didn't want to disturb him but the urge to touch was strong, and so, he settled on lightly tracing the other's face.

After a few minutes, Chris let out a soft huff and adjusted his position. 

"Are you watching me sleep?" He mumbled, his voice still filled with sleep and rough from not using it. Dylan grinned.

"You looked so peaceful, I couldn't help myself," he responded, now noticing that his voice, too, was slightly hoarse. Chris laughed aloud, a short but genuine laugh that made Dylan's grin grow even wider if that was even possible.

"Such a sap," he chuckled as he pulled Dylan closer and snuggled his face against the soccer player's neck.

"You love it." 

In response, he got a muffled hum. He wrapped his arms around Chris's neck and let out a slow breath, feeling the other's mouth on his skin.

"You know, we should get up," Dylan muttered, turning his head in search of a clock, "it's already... nine-thirty." 

"That's not even that late," Chris exclaimed, untucking his face from Dylan's throat and looked at the dirty-blond boy, "I wanna cuddle." 

Dylan huffed in defeat and relaxed into Chris's embrace, gently carding his fingers through the dark hair that tickled his nose. He scratched lightly at his scalp, earning a low sound from the football player.

Then, because the universe was always against his rest, a shrill ringing filled the room. Dylan groaned aloud, already knowing just by the sound who was calling and rolled over to grab his phone that lay on the floor by the bed. The movement made his body ache a little, but he ignored the soreness and answered the phone.

"Hello," he grumbled. On the other line, he heard his dad in the background, saying something about not to disturb him.

"Hey, honey!" His mom exclaimed, way too loud at this time in the day. "How'd it go last night? Dad told me you were sleeping at a friend's." 

"Yeah, yeah, it went well," he turned to catch Chris's eyes, "really well." 

"That's great to hear! Did you cook together?" 

Dylan sighed. "No, no, we ordered take out." 

"Doesn't Felicia know how to cook?" The question took Dylan by surprise, rendering him speechless for a few seconds. 

"I'm not at Felicia's, mom," he said, frowning. Chris raised a brow in question and he shrugged in response. "Where did you get that from?"

"Mhmm, I totally believe you. Say hi to her from me, alright? Alright, bye, bye!" 

"Mom I-" Dylan started but the beeping sound that came with the other line having been turned off interrupted him and he let the phone drop onto the bed.

"What was that?" Chris asked, opening his arms for Dylan to snuggle in between. 

"Mom called to ask how it went last night. She thought I was at Felicia's or something and didn't listen when I said that I wasn't. It doesn't matter though."