Erik is the first to wake. His eyes snap open and in one fluid motion, he slips off from the bed (Charles’ bed) and starts dressing himself.
As he does, he looks over Charles. He’s still peacefully asleep, resting on one side so that his back is facing Erik. It gives Erik a glimpse of his neck, those lean shoulders and the pale skin of his lovely back.
Erik thinks about last night, how they’ve fucked, Charles above him, crying out Erik’s name as he brought himself down on Erik’s cock. Erik remembers Charles’ face, his cheeks so flushed, his blue eyes drifting halfway shut in utter pleasure…
By now, Erik’s fully dressed. He knows he should wake Charles. Today’s the day. What they’ve done last night will probably become nothing more than simply memories, precious memories, even.
Still, he can’t help himself. He sits on the bed, leans over and brushes his lips against the curve of Charles’ shoulder. It’s barely a kiss, but it’d have to do.
“Thank you,” he whispers. For the transient happiness, for everything.
Then he gets up and heads out. He’ll give Charles fifteen more minutes —of rest, of contentment, of peace.
(Before the reality of the world crashes upon them, viciously tearing them apart.)