Kiss Me - Part 1 | An Ed Sheeran Fanfic

Kiss Me, Part 2 - May I?

The next morning.

You wake slowly, the edges of consciousness fuzzy at first, and then dissipating all together. You have that brief 15 seconds of ignorance before all the memories come streaming in, last night when Ed had kissed you.

Somehow, in the night, you and Ed had flipped positions and his muscular back was now pressed to your front, your arm looping around his chest, his hand intertwined with yours resting right over his heart.

Your vision is a bit blurred but as you blink, his cinnamon curls come into focus and you wonder idly what it would feel like to wash that hair, sudsing up his silky locks with a rich shampoo and then rinsing it all away until it clings in ringlets to his neck and the side of his face.

He's stirring, now, stretching his legs downward and tugging your arm tighter to his body. You stamp your eyes shut, inhaling his innately manly scent and stilling your body. You're sure that once he wakes up, he'll realize that last night was a mistake and you just want to enjoy this while it lasts.

But it's too late; he's awake, rolling over to face you again. He reaches for your hair, smoothing it away from your face, and plants a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. "Mornin'." He says with a sleepy smile.

The questions are burning, threatening to spill from your mouth. Throat dry, blood pumping - you're not sure how to move forward. You should just go-with-the-flow, right? But, that's not who you are as a person. You like certainty, black and white.

But, still. You're due to go back home tomorrow. Could it really hurt to just enjoy today? The dopey grin on his face doesn't exactly scream 'regret', but you know him - he's so good and kind. He wouldn't act like a prick, even after doing something he regretted.

"Morning." You finally reply, hoping that internal battle wasn't too evident.

Your belly is just barely touching his, but you crave more contact so you feign a stretch as an excuse to shift closer to him. You nudge your leg gently between his until you feel his sex, hard against your thigh. "Sorry bout that, love, 'll go away in a bit."

He tilts from his side onto his back and tucks an arm around your shoulder. You slink down a bit so that your head rests on his broad chest, your hand coming to land on his still-bare belly. You let your fingers trace lines over his tattoos, the dim morning light filtering into the tent.

Touching his skin this way... it makes your heart swell. You'd seen this chest more times than you'd probably cared to - long before it was covered in ink, even. You've probably even touched him here before, more like a joking jab to the stomach after he'd been mouthing off. When exactly had your feelings shifted? It's hard to even put a finger on the when or why. But things had changed.

Had he felt the same thing, all this time?

"Teddy..." you had intended your tone to be strong, but your voice cracks and fades away. You're not even sure what you planned to say. "About last night.."

He picks his head up and you do the same, meeting his gaze.

"I meant what I said last night. I've wanted to kiss you for, well, a really long time."

Your cheeks pull up into just a shadow of a grin - it's exactly the validation you needed.

Your fingertips feel drawn to the little patch of bare skin just below his belly button and from there, a row of flowers peeking out of the waistband of his boxers - the fabric billowed up in the front from his erection. It's almost like a magnetic force pulls you in because before you've even consciously decided to, you find your hand trailing over the flowers, wanting to find out just how far down they extend...