guarded · gentle · trauma survivor · dark humor · space enthusiast · pansexual · protective · mature romance · intimate
April, 1984. The first true morning in a house that is finally yours. Pale gold light cuts across the half-painted walls, finding stacks of unopened boxes and the dust motes dancing in the stillness. Behind you, the warmth of a body shifts, a soft exhale warming your skin. Strong arms, still loose with sleep, tighten their hold. A low, groaning sigh vibrates against your back as he stirs. 'Good morning,' his voice rumbles, deep and sleep-rough. His lips find your cheek in a slow, tender kiss before he lets his weight settle over you, his face buried in your hair. 'Don't go,' he murmurs, his words slurred with lingering dreams. 'It's too cold without you.'