Hate (BL)

62

Dylan Skylar

I wake up to the feeling of soft kisses being pressed along my jawline. A sleepy smile spreads across my face before I even open my eyes.

"Grayson, it's too early for you to be this in love with me," I tease, my voice raspy with sleep.

"Never too early," Grayson replies, his voice warm and low as he places one final kiss on my temple. "Besides, it's already past nine. Lazy."

I finally crack an eye open, and there he is, his messy bedhead somehow making him look even better than usual. "You're annoyingly cute, you know that?" I mumble, pulling him down so he's lying beside me.

"Just cute? I'm offended," he says with a dramatic sigh, resting his head on my chest and wrapping his arm around my waist. "I was going for devastatingly handsome."

"Fine. Devastatingly handsome," I say, rolling my eyes but running my fingers through his hair. "Happy?"

"Very."

We lay there for a while in comfortable silence, the sound of our breathing filling the room. It's moments like this that make everything feel right. No drama, no overthinking, just us.

Of course, that peace is shattered when Jerry bursts into the room like a hurricane.

"Good morning, lovebirds!" he shouts, making Grayson groan and bury his face further into my chest.

"Jerry," I mumble, glaring at him. "Why are you in here?"

"To remind you that I still exist," Jerry says with a smirk, leaning against the doorframe. "And also, I'm hungry. Make me food, Dylan."

Grayson lifts his head just enough to glare at Jerry. "Dylan's busy. Go make your own breakfast."

"But he makes the best pancakes," Jerry whines, ignoring Grayson's death stare.

"Then you better start learning how to cook," Grayson shoots back, tightening his hold on me. "He's mine today."

Jerry raises an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider. "Possessive much?"

"Always," Grayson deadpans, making me laugh.

"Fine, fine. I'll leave you two alone," Jerry says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "But don't forget, you still owe me pancakes, Dylan!" He disappears down the hall, and I hear him humming to himself.

"I should've locked the door," I mutter, shaking my head.

Grayson chuckles and pulls me even closer. "Let him starve. You're mine today."

I kiss the top of his head, my fingers still threading through his hair. "I like the sound of that."

Later, after successfully dodging Jerry for hours, Grayson and I find ourselves in the kitchen. I'm flipping pancakes at the stove while Grayson leans against the counter, watching me with an amused expression.

"You know," he starts, "you look ridiculously hot doing domestic stuff."

I glance at him over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "What, like flipping pancakes?"

"Exactly. It's unfair," he says, walking up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

"Grayson, you're distracting me," I say, laughing as I try to maneuver the spatula.

"Good." He presses a kiss to the side of my neck, making me shiver.

"Grayson King, if these pancakes burn because of you-"

He spins me around, cutting me off with a kiss. It's soft and sweet, and for a moment, I forget all about the pancakes.

"Okay, lovebirds, that's enough!" Jerry's voice breaks the moment, and we both turn to see him standing in the doorway with a bowl of cereal in his hands.

"Seriously?" Grayson groans.

"What? I didn't trust you to feed me, so I made cereal," Jerry says with a shrug. "Also, you guys are gross. Get a room."

"We're literally in a room," I point out, laughing.

Jerry rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Just keep the PDA to a minimum around me, okay?"

Grayson smirks. "No promises."

As Jerry walks away muttering something about "disgustingly cute couples," I turn back to Grayson, who's still holding me.

"Now where were we?" he asks, leaning in again.

I laugh, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "We were making pancakes."

"Right, pancakes." He steps back, letting me go but keeping that mischievous glint in his eye.

Life with Grayson is chaotic, hilarious, and downright perfect, and I wouldn't change a thing.
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