All our lives

Chapter 27

Warm light caressing his face. The pleasant sensation he was wrapped in a protective cocoon, one he was not disposed to leave despite the painful tingling in his body. He was numb from spending the night cramped on the couch and his muscles were screaming for a move that would put his blood into motion, but Jon didn't shift an inch. He could stay like that forever. It was good. Nice. He simply couldn't remember the last time he had slept so well, no matter the circle or the supplementary aid he had experimented.

It was like he had no care in the world, which was strange, because he was perfectly aware he had a lot of things to worry about. His nightmare was far from being over, he knew that. Yet all he did was to smile almost victoriously through his quasi-sleep. His torment could wait for five more minutes.

He was already more asleep than awake when he felt that something was not quite right with his protective cocoon. It had transitioned from a lifeless and shapeless shelter to something alive. Solid. Threatening. Jon snapped out of his sleepy state in an instant and opened his eyes.

The slightly tanned arm that was holding him loosely and had prevented him from jumping off the couch didn't bother him that much. The proximity of the breath that tickled the nape of his neck and his hair was still bearable. However, there was a little detail that horrified him no end. Something was poking his ass and Jon knew there were exactly zero chances for that couch to have a broken spring. And that could mean only one thing. He was being big-spooned.

He gulped as he felt his blood running cold and slowly turned his head to face his morning aggressor.

"Morning, sunshine!" Richie smiled sleepily and leaned for a kiss.

A kiss Jon was not willing to give, not with his brain painfully sober and certainly not when he was practically captive. He hurried to get off the couch, but his numb legs got stuck in the blanket and, under Richie's perplexed eyes, Jon landed on a heap on the floor, dragging the blanket with him. Why the hell was there a blanket anyway? There was none last night. On the other hand, he was absolutely sure Richie hadn't been there either.

"Babe, you alright?" Richie asked him, partially worried, partially amused.

"You...you scared me," Jon stuttered and scratched his head as if that movement could give him a better alibi for his behaviour.

"Scared?" Richie raised an eyebrow.

"Surprised?" Jon corrected himself. "Why...why are you...I mean we.." he rapidly bettered his question. "Why are we here?"

"Well," Richie smiled and sat up on the couch. "I woke up in the middle of the night and, to my surprise, you were not in our bed. So I came down here and I was met by quite a sight," he smirked. "You were snoring like a broken diesel engine, you had your phone in your hand and your neck cranked so bad it's a miracle you can move your head now."

"I don't snore!" Jon protested vehemently after a moment of silence and made Richie laugh.

"Ahem," Richie approved, smiling sarcastically. "Anyway, I tried to wake you, but that was mission impossible. You were gone, man! I don't think I've ever seen you like that. Good wine, huh?" he gave Jon a knowing wink.

Jon didn't verbalize his impression on the wine, but his displeased grimace amused Richie. However, it didn't seem it had managed to surprise him too. As if the fact that this Jon didn't want to admit he couldn't handle a bottle of wine was a known, endearing quirk.

"So I did the only logical thing," Richie shrugged. "Brought a pillow and a blanket and squeezed in next to you. I won't let some wine, no matter how good, break a 27 year old habit...Hey, you can roll your eyes as much as you want, Bongiovi!" he said playfully. "I happen to be quite proud of it!"