Stories Of Us - Tayvis Oneshots

Lazy Days

It was one of those rare, blissful off weeks for Travis Kelce, a pause between the intensity of games, interviews, and workouts. Even more precious, it was just before Taylor Swift was to return to the whirlwind of the Eras Tour, which was picking up again in Miami. They both knew how fleeting moments like these were—so they decided to make the most of it by doing absolutely nothing.

Taylor stretched beneath the soft covers, a lazy smile forming on her lips as she felt the warmth of Travis beside her. His arm was draped over her waist, and the morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a gentle golden glow across the room.

"How is it that I can still hear your fans screaming for 'Cruel Summer' in my head, even when it's this quiet?" Travis mumbled sleepily, his voice deep and rough from sleep.

Taylor chuckled, shifting closer to him. "Maybe because you've been to too many shows?"

"Never too many," he murmured, pulling her closer, his large hand smoothing over her back. "But I'm definitely keeping count."

"Oh, are you now?" Taylor asked with a playful grin, her finger tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "What number are you on?"

Travis lifted his head, pretending to think. "Well, let's see. There was Kansas City, obviously. Then argentina, Paris, Singapore, Cant forget the 3 shows in london, and wasn't there one in—"

"Okay, okay," she interrupted with a laugh, rolling her eyes. "I get it. You're a dedicated fan."

"I'm a dedicated *something,*" he teased, leaning in to kiss the top of her head. "I'd follow you to every city if I could."

They lay there for a while, basking in the quiet. There was no rush to do anything, no looming schedule or press obligation—just the two of them, tangled up in each other, the sound of their breathing matching the rhythm of the peaceful morning.

After what felt like hours, Taylor finally broke the silence. "We should probably get up at some point, you know."

Travis grunted in protest, burying his face in her neck. "Not yet. It's our lazy day. No alarms, no routines. Just us."

She smiled, feeling his lips brush lightly against her skin. "You're really taking this off-week thing seriously."

"Have to," he replied, pulling her tighter against him. "You're about to leave for Miami. Gotta savor every second."

The mention of Miami brought a flicker of reality back to Taylor's mind, but she pushed it aside. The tour would be there soon enough. Right now, all that mattered was this.

Eventually, though, their stomachs made the decision for them. Taylor's stomach growled loudly, making Travis laugh.

"Was that you or me?" he asked, his face scrunched in mock surprise.

"That was definitely me," she admitted, laughing. "I guess my body's not as on board with the 'lazy day' idea as you are."

"Pancakes?" he offered, sitting up in bed, his hair even wilder now. "Or do you want to keep it fancy and order in?"

Taylor sat up too, pulling her oversized sweater over her shoulders. "Hmm, let's cook. I miss doing normal things. Besides, I trust your pancake skills."

Travis smirked. "You've got that much faith in me?"

"I've seen you catch a football while dodging three linebackers. I think you can handle a spatula," she teased, sliding out of bed.

"Oh, just wait," he said, rising to his full height and stretching. "I'm about to put on a clinic in the kitchen."

They made their way to the kitchen, with Taylor grabbing her phone to put on some background music. Soft, acoustic tunes filled the air—nothing too loud, just something mellow to match their mood. She perched herself on the counter as Travis rummaged through the cupboards, pulling out flour, eggs, and a carton of milk.

Taylor watched him, a fond smile tugging at her lips. There was something so endearing about seeing Travis, the unstoppable force on the field, fumbling through the kitchen trying to measure ingredients.

"I can hear you judging me," Travis said without turning around, his voice laced with mock offense.

"I'm not judging," she laughed, shaking her head. "I'm... observing."

"Yeah, well, keep observing. You're about to witness greatness."

Despite the occasional mishap—like the cloud of flour that exploded in his face when he got a bit too enthusiastic with the measuring—the pancakes turned out perfectly fluffy. They sat together at the kitchen island, eating in comfortable silence, sneaking smiles and light touches every now and then.

After breakfast, they curled up on the couch. Taylor had her head resting on his chest, and he absentmindedly stroked her arm as they flicked through Netflix, trying to settle on something to watch.

"You pick," she mumbled, feeling drowsy again from the meal and the comforting weight of his arm around her.

Travis scrolled lazily. "How about something cheesy? A rom-com?"

Taylor raised an eyebrow, tilting her head to look up at him. "You? Wanting to watch a rom-com?"

"Hey, I'm versatile," he grinned. "Besides, maybe it'll give me some pointers."

They ended up watching *10 Things I Hate About You*, though half the time they weren't even paying attention to the screen. Taylor fell asleep halfway through, snuggled against him, and Travis didn't dare move. He glanced down at her, her breath slow and steady, and smiled to himself.

For all the chaos that filled their lives—the stadiums, the fans, the stages—moments like these were rare. Just the two of them, tucked away from the rest of the world, sharing a lazy day with nothing but time.

As the movie credits rolled and the afternoon sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the living room, Taylor stirred. "Hey," she said softly, her voice thick with sleep. "Did I miss the best part?"

"Nah," Travis murmured, running his fingers through her hair. "The best part's right here."

Taylor looked up at him, her smile soft and sleepy. "Smooth," she said, rolling her eyes, though the fondness was clear in her voice.

He grinned. "What can I say? I'm a romantic."

"You're something, that's for sure," she replied, snuggling back into his chest.

And as they lay there, with the world outside moving fast and loud, the quiet between them felt like the only thing that mattered.