Big Book Of Sjips One Shots

Ever The Same (S)

TW: RPF, Morning After

There is a certain degree to which waking up naked next to your co-worker and good friend, your feet entangled with his and your hand resting on his hip, should be awkward. You can acknowledge that, but you feel quite cozy all the same. The noise of the hotel elevator down the hall shuttling early risers to the lobby is almost drowned out by your bedmate's heavy breathing and the shades of your room let in only a little light, allowing your eyes to adjust slowly as you stretch out one of your legs. To be honest, the thing really bothering you is your complete failure to recall how you ended up here. The hotel makes sense—you can at least remember the convention you've been enjoying the last couple of days—but you can't quite explain why you're in Paul's bed with him instead of yours two feet away. You don't remember taking your boxers off, much less flinging them onto the TV. You certainly don't know why Paul's pants are half-draped over an empty bottle of rum.

It hits you all at once that holy shit, you can remember a lot of drinking last night. The fuzziness at least makes sense now. You stare blankly at the darkness and try to pull together the foggy memories. You remember Lewis giving you all the news that your flight was going to be delayed an entire day after the convention, leaving your party with little to do besides wait. Waiting had, as the sun set, devolved into drinking first at the hotel's bar, and then in Lewis and Hannah's room when that got too crowded. At some point Hannah banished you, Paul, Duncan, and Simon to your respective rooms, but either you or Paul must have taken a parting gift and kept drinking.

Paul is still asleep as far as you can tell. His beard is slightly itchy against your chest and his hot breath is almost making you sweat, but you don't really want to wake him up. You like to think he'll take it as well as you are, but you're pretty sure your level of okayness with the situation isn't normal.

Tentatively, you lift the hand on his hip until it just barely lifts away from his skin, breaking that point of contact. The movement makes him stir and he arches upwards the barest degree so you're touching him again. Trying not to laugh, you press your hand down and he sinks into the bed, burrowing his head into your chest and sighing. It takes him a second to come to and realize something's up, but you notice he doesn't pull away immediately. Instead he takes in a deep breath through his nose and groans it out into your skin. The sound seems familiar and you feel your cock stiffen as it remembers something your brain can't. When he finally does separate, it's not a disgusted jerk away from you, but a slow and reluctant disentangling that seems just as intimate as being together did.

"Good morning, starshine." You greet him with your usual chuckle. He's bleary-eyed and his voice is thick with sleep, but he falls into the natural rhythm you two have developed over your partnership.

"Hello, you son of a bitch."

You grin. Not only does he seem completely unapologetic and respond without missing a beat, but he's stretching out with the same smug smile he gets from finishing a build in Tekkit or making Nilesy rage quit. You admire the skin being revealed by the blankets slipping down his chest until they settle around his waist. "So, do you think we-"

"We definitely did."

"How do you know? New Zealander's intuition?"

"I can just feel it in my bones." He sees the raised eyebrow you're giving him and grins. "Wait, did I say bones? I meant ass. It feels like you used dirt lube."

"Aw, want me to have Hannah come and put a band-aid on it?"

"Don't even joke, Chris." This time Paul shoves you, but he allows his hand to stay outstretched towards you. You still feel like this isn't the reaction two totally straight friends should have to realizing they fucked the night before, but you don't have any complaints. "I have to sit on the plane for four hours like this, you know that? Plus the ride over and sitting at the airport."

"Yeah, and we don't even get to remember the fun part."

Paul goes quiet for a second before.pushing himself up and reaching over you to grab his phone off the bedstand. The hair on his chest tickles your arm as he pulls back and you wonder how it felt beneath your fingers last night and wonder if his nipples were sensitive, if you even tried. He turns on the screen, both of you recoiling momentarily at the synthetic brightness, and reveals the time to be 8:53. "You know, we still have a few hours before we have to get to the airport..."

You laugh, getting up to shove him back down onto the bed. His phone falls and skids out of sight, but he doesn't even glance as he pulls you down, mashing his lips against yours. You're not quite sure what will happen after round two, but you're not bothered by the ambiguity of the situation. As long as you're still Sips and Sjin at the end of the day, what's there to worry about?

Credit to sapphicsnorlax on Ao3