Warning: RWB spoilers ahead.
Some say the best love stories often take time.
Emery Chernychevsky has had a crush on Cameron Brooks since he can remember. Watching him date different girls all throughout high school was nothing if not pure torture...
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Sleeping in had been the cherry on top of an already fine morning for Ian. Glancing at the gap between the curtains, it couldn't have been earlier than 10. He could hear the faint chatter of his friends from downstairs, and the sheets were just the right amount of cold and warm against his skin.
Stretching his limbs, the brunet sighed and buried himself deep in the mound of pillows. "God, I love this house so much," he mumbled.
Beside him, Bryce shifted, a groan slipping past his lips when he felt the bed move.
"Squidward was right," the blond muttered tiredly. "Another day, another fucking migraine."
Ian scoffed as he rubbed the remnants of sleep from his eyes. "Good morning to you too," he said. "I told you not to binge Fleabag at midnight."
"And you were right, babe," Bryce turned to him, a tired smile gracing his face before he rolled over, pressing a kiss on his boyfriend's shoulder. "Morning."
Ian wrapped himself around Bryce's arm, humming in contentment as he said, "I'm hungry."
Bryce hummed. "Okay."
Birds chirped outside but that wasn't enough to keep Ian from rolling his eyes and whipping Bryce with one of his dirty shirts.
"Get your ass up," he spat.
It took a lot of hitting and muttering, but Bryce did slip out of bed eventually.
Ian was wrong when he thought he heard his friends chatting in the kitchen. For one, they weren't in the kitchen, they were in the living room, and for two, they weren't chatting, they were laughing like hyenas which checked out the moment Ian's eyes darted on the deck of Cards Against Humanity sitting on the coffee table.
"Hi!" Allison smiled up at them and waved her cards over. "There's bagels on the counter."
Bryce's face lit up, and Ian smiled as he watched him hop down towards the kitchen. He made his way to his friends, brow raising with interest once he noticed the two empty chairs beside Cate.
"Hey," he said. Asher looked up at him curiously.
"Where's Cameron and Emery?"
. . . . .
Emery seemed to love the sun.
That was Cameron's guess. He hasn't torn his eyes off the redhead since he was dared to a floating contest. The way Emery's face lit up, his body spread across the surface of the water, his eyes closed, and his hair adding color to the darkness of the ocean's bottom, made it seem like he was in love with sunlight or something.
Or, the more likely, the sun is in love with him.
"I take it back," Cameron blurted, eyes glued to Emery as his lips moved. "I don't hate you anymore for waking me up so early."
