Lachambers- Forbidden

8

Gordie's pillow felt incredibly warm this morning. And a little invasive. Since when could pillows feel people up?

He groaned sleepily and scooted away from whatever was groping his ass, only for it to move with him and keep its place.

Gordie rolled over, fully intending on chucking the perverted pillow off his bed, but paused as he nearly bumped noses with a sleeping Chris.
Oh yeah.

Gordie sat up to get a better view of the boy next to him, ignoring the reflection of his bed head in the mirror. It didn't take him long to remember the various details of the previous night, in fact that was the first thing he thought of that morning. The whole ordeal almost didn't seem real in the current winter daylight and after eight hours of sleep.

Gordie glanced over at Chris's peacefully sleeping face before snaking his hand underneath his blanket. Gordie knew last night was definitely- probably- real, but just to be safe he lifted up the blanket ever so slightly and peaked, staring at Chris's bare skin for much longer than he needed to.

Okay, so he's not going insane and having vividly detailed wet dreams about his... his what?

Gordie's cheeks heated at the thought, what exactly were he and Chris? They had never really discussed it before, but after confessing their feelings to one another last night it was safe to say Gordie could refer to the blonde as his boyfriend.

He smiled despite feeling a little girly about mentally fussing over the whole terminology.
It was nice.

Gordie's fingers found themselves in Chris's dirty blonde tousles of hair, running through his surprisingly soft strands. He pushed a couple hairs away from Chris's closed eyes, watching as his face seemed to flinch at the touch, but Gordie's touch was practically weightless. Maybe he was having a dream?

Gordie smiled at the thought and continued to gently drag his knuckle across Chris's cheek. He wondered what thoughts and feelings lay hidden beneath that handsome face of his. Gordie's head tilted to the side as he guessed whether Chris was dreaming of him by how much or how little his forehead creased and his eyebrows furrowed. Gordie could only hope his dream self wasn't stressing Chris out too much.

Gordie climbed out of bed and stretched, his back pleasantly sore.

A ray of sunshine peaked through Gordie's window, the storm from the previous night clearing all the clouds from the sky. The brunette smiled to himself before glancing over his shoulder at the peacefully sleeping boy in his bed. He gently pressed a kiss into his cheek before pulling his now wrinkled pajamas on from off the floor.
Chris's clothes had seemed... almost dry, Gordie just shrugged the few wet spots off and laid his clothes out at the end of his bed. As he bent down to pick Chris's shirt up, his stomach let out a long, deep rumble.

Ever since Gordie was little he'd always get an upset stomach if he didn't eat breakfast. He disliked the thought of leaving such a picture perfect little scene like this, specifically leaving Chris behind, but he knew he'd regret not eating in an hour or so.

So, Gordie tiptoed down his stairs, humming happily as he turned a corner and rummaged through the kitchen like a raccoon scavenging through a trash can.

After finally becoming satisfied with the little stash of fruit he collected, Gordie trotted out of the kitchen with more clouded thoughts of last night returning to his memories the more he woke up.

"Gordie!"
Since when were Gordie's memories so vivid? It was like he could hear Chris calling his name just like he had last night.

"Gordie, hey!" A lump of bouncing hair dashed towards Gordie popped the dazed bubble he was floating in. It was Teddy. Teddy Duchamp frantically running towards him like a madman.