And Maybe That's Alright

Story

There were lips pressed to him; it was the first thing George realised as he begrudgingly entered the horribly bright, wakeful world.

They dipped to his hair, his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, wherever they may reach. They were slow and lingering at first, just gentle, loving contact. A soft, chaste fragment of affection.

Then they become faster, dramatic noises following each one and George groaned, burying his face into the pillow beneath him. An adoring laugh echoed from above and George had half the mind to kick his feet out from under the covers and ward off his attacker. Maybe he'd kick him in the crotch, if his aim was lucky enough.

"Good morning, sweet cheeks." Clay sang teasingly.

"Fuck off." George replied flatly.

Clay brushed off George's morning grouchiness and shoved his shoulder with a chuckle, twisting him onto his back. He held him in place against the bed, hovering over him as George glared up through squinted eyes. He leant down and kissed the twist of George's lips until they morphed into a sweet smile.

George loosely looped his arms around Clay's shoulders, humming sleepily. He scrunched his nose, however, at the taste of Clay's morning breath and pulled back abruptly. "Your breath smells, go brush your teeth." He complained bluntly, wrists still crossed loosely behind Clay's neck as though he hadn't instructed him to leave.

Clay laughed again, something bright and happy and utterly world-warring, before simply kissing George quiet. George whined in distaste but made no move to end the affection. Instead, he returned it with a slow sense of warmth, a familiar taste resting comfortably in the back of his throat that overwhelmed their mingling morning breath.

When Clay pulled back, smiling down at his fiancé, George let his eyes slip closed again. It was peaceful, calm, the air settled with a certain safety that sank into the very foundation of George's being. He felt utterly content, more than ready to catch five more minutes rest.

Then Clay started kissing his face again in quick succession and George was groaning, shoving at Clay's chest feebly. His traitorous smile gave away how much he always enjoyed the attention.

"Oh my God- I'm awake! I'm awake, will you get off?" George laughed, sitting up to appease Clay. No hope for a lie-in this morning then.

Clay let up, grinning. "Breakfast is in the kitchen." He murmured, pressing a final kiss to the tip of George's nose before leaving the room to take George's advice and brush his teeth.

Most mornings were shaped in this mould these days. Now that they were home again, Clay would wake up early, boasting his now almost healthy sleep schedule; he'd then make breakfast for the both of them and wake George in some disgustingly sweet way - at a time that George would complain was far too early regardless of what the clock read - and they'd eagerly set to their days.

More often than not, they'd spend the better half of the day on wedding planning.

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@Fleepfloop
if only I could be paid for my tweets...
well, time to start an onlyfans ❤️
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@chiccennuggies
ALKOJDSLKFLKFLAKFJASLFJKDSKJHLA VOUCH
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@luciddreamer
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@dreamdreamdreamdreamdreamdream
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@Fleepfloop
good idea
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