Olilen Oneshots

Pancakes

Sunday.

8 AM.

Len has been cheering for this very special day to finally arrive, and now here it was. The only day off this week—and there was really nothing he had to worry about. Oliver knew about his appointment at the studio that evening, but until then, the day was finally all theirs. After they had been bearing one exhausting week after another, it was like a dream come-true.

Len turned around and threw the blanket off his overheated body. Oliver wouldn't let himself get shaken off as easily and tightened the embrace around him. Quite the contrary, he now squeezed soft giggles out of his partner and made him suffer through another heatwave. Len didn't mind that. Oliver's warmth was the only one he could tolerate.

He looked down, then on his phone, shuddered at how much time has passed and kissed Oliver's hair inbetween soft wake-up calls. There was shifting and rustling but no one would stand up yet. Len merely managed to free himself out of the embrace through loud whining and stared at the dozing face from a safe distance. Soft cheeks, puffy eyes with dark circles, another small scratch Oliver landed from moving too much in his sleep and—oh so lovely—warm and red lips. Len leaned forward and pecked them a few times. A smile formed as a response, but the drowsy body was not capable of more yet.

Oliver hid his face back in the pillow and yawned loudly. Len reached out and ran his hand across the back a few more times until he grew tired of it and yawned as well. He wasn't even tired anymore but a slow morning only promised tired eyes. Before they would waste a perfect day dozing on and off, Len sat up and shook Oliver's torso.

"It's your turn," Oliver mumbled and pulled the blanket over his back. Len whined but Oliver merely grunted and shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, then what do you want?"

Oliver turned to the side, with a small smile on his face, and he hummed an unknown melody while rubbing his eyes half-open. Len melted on the spot and leaned down to kiss the cherished face all over.

"How about—" A kiss on the lips, nose, glabella, "pancakes?"

The next kiss fell and Len's lips recoiled only reluctantly. His head tilted to the side, but then he nodded.

"Sure."

Oliver's eyes fluttered open at the sudden weight in Len's voice but he couldn't read the indifferent expression on his face. He searched a little longer until Len turned away.

"You also like pancakes, don't you?"

"Huh? Oh yeah," Len muttered under his breath as he kicked his legs out of the twisted blankets and stumbled on his feet. He turned back to the bed and smiled. "Sorry, I was just thinking."

Oliver stared for a while but then managed to stem his torso up the mattress and sit up. Len still didn't leave yet, and the more he found him baffled and stiff the more Oliver knew what was really going on. He didn't bother to hide his mocking grin and let out a few snickers. Len rose an eyebrow.

"You don't know how to make pancakes. That's it, right?"

"Wha—of course I know how to make those! That's so easy!" Len protested louder than he wanted and lifted up his chin—hurt in pride and courage—until his eyes met with the weak gleam of sunlight fighting through the slit in the upper curtains. He picked up his pace and hurried to open the curtains and let in fresh air before heading for the kitchen. Oliver's eyes followed him, accompanied by another amused grin.

"Really?" He leaned back and then dropped down on the sheets. "Well, then you don't mind me sleeping in a few more minutes while you set everything up, right?"