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I hate...

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He woke slowly, lazily, and being perfectly warm. He preferred waking this way to being ripped from his dreams by some alarm, hastily jumping out of the bed and rushing through his morning routine.

Sleepily and still half a brain short he buried deeper into the warmth of his lover and received a sloppy kiss for his efforts. One sloppy kiss turned into another and quickly developed into… more.

Just one kiss, one touch and he was won over to do anything. Like always, it was amazing and the laziness of his brain even seemed to enhance every sensation. Or maybe it was because he had yet to open his eyes?

It was wonderful, he wasn’t required to do anything, just feel and react. Languidly he stretched into the hot touch stroking over his chest. He moaned when a hand palmed his hardening erection. He lazily bucked into the tight grip and was instantly covered by a heated body, felt another hardness rubbing against his own. An insistent tongue invaded his mouth, plundering, stealing sound and breath.

His hands found hips, cupped ass cheeks and just followed the movements without trying to control them. The thrusts were already fast and irregular and he felt their hearts hammering, not really knowing whose beat was whose. Listening to their combined harsh breathing triggered something and without great warning or lengthy build-up he came with a shudder, spilling seed over his stomach, almost instantly joined by more.

Muscles all limp and feeling wonderfully blissed out he burrowed back into the soft pillows, prepared to go back to sleep. Expecting a warm body to wrap around him he was surprised to hear a short rustle and then felt the dip of the mattress that indicated somebody had left the bed. He dared to open one eye to carefully look. Marcus. Collecting clothes. Heading for the bathroom. Flashing a smile over his shoulders at him and literally bouncing on his toes with energy.

“I hate morning sex,” Neroon called after Marcus. It came out slightly muffled by the pillow he was trying to hide in.

“No, you don’t,” Marcus’ cheerful and disembodied voice floated through the open bathroom door accompanied by the sound of water.

“I hate you,” Neroon groused and pulled the blanket over his head to banish the relentless light creeping into his territory. Until Marcus was finished in the bathroom he still had some minutes of avoidance left. Almost instantly he drifted off again.

“I love you too. Now come and join me for breakfast,” Marcus tugged at the blanket when he returned from the bathroom. He was probably immaculately and unfortunately dressed. Therefore, absolutely not worth getting up.

“Just five more minutes…” he pleaded. Sometimes it actually helped.

“Those ‘five minutes’ will make you late. Again,” Marcus had the nerve to reason. Who could reason at this time of the day anyway and especially after a morning shag? Only Marcus.

“And it will be your fault. Again,” Neroon shot back. He was almost tempted to lift the blanket to give Marcus one of his debilitating glares.

“And I’m proud of it!” Marcus sounded so smug that Neroon could hear the associated grin.

“I hate morning sex...” Neroon whined - again – and because he still lacked the brain to make a valid argument against Marcus’ statement and self-satisfaction.

The answer was a chuckle Neroon believed to be flavoured with fondness.

 

El fin