[ The previous evening had been...rough. Rough, and embarrassing, and such a fucking relief. Esther hadn't intended to say half the shit she had, and she certainly hadn't intended to fall asleep here.
She was used to sleeping on her own sofa, not someone else's. Sleeping there with someone else? Forget about it. Absolutely not. Sober, the idea of actually doing that made her panic, made her feel sick. Made her thankful for the extra locks on her door and the Doberman sleeping in the armchair next to her.
So when she opens her eyes the following morning, and feels unfamiliar material under her hand, unfamiliar smells, feels someone next to her, for a horrible few moments she forgets she's not in her own home. She tenses in very real fear, and almost pushes herself away to get some space before she notices faded blue. Realises what she can smell is the lingering scent of cigarettes.
Then she remembers, finally, where she is. Remembers how much she had to drink and that's why her head's hurting. Remembers who she was drinking with, and close to instantly, the tension leaves her. They're close - the fact that they're on a sofa and not a double bed means that that's something of a given - legs all tangled, arms around each other. They'd be nose-to-nose if Esther shifted up a little bit.
Move. Move, for fucks sake, get up. Before he wakes up.
Her heart's racing, but she doesn't shift even an inch. She settles and stays put, and instead wills herself to relax again. Gingerly, she replaces her hand on his back, and reminds herself that Dera's safe. That she's safe with him. ]
[Dera doesn't sleep often - he really, really doesn't - so once he does, it's difficult for him to actually get up. Curled upright against the couch isn't the most comfortable position in the world, but as morning light leeches in through his blinds this morning, he feels warm, warm, warm. It doesn't register immediately that he's with someone else - tangled legs, tangled arms, warm breath against his chest. He adjusts slightly where he is on the couch, making a sound in his throat that would be half a word if he were even awake enough to do that. But he's not. He turns his cheek against a head of soft hair, and lets out a long, contended sigh. And without thinking about what he's doing, his fingers begin brushing the back of someone-- someone? Who? His foggy mind can't put the pieces together, doesn't want to. It feels nice. He runs his fingers up and down, enjoying the feeling of the fabric beneath them.
[For as lonely as Dera spends most of his nights, and for as little as he lets people spend the night, he loves cuddling like this. It could be a dream, he thinks. Maybe one about Esther again. What a lovely dream that would be...
[Still not quite awake, he mumbles something that's hard to understand - just his low, raspy voice trying to formulate words.] Y...sm...n...mmmm.
[ It's been just long enough for Esther to settle - even start to doze off again, how novel! - before she feels Dera start to stir. Only little signs, but it's his breathing she notices first. The feeling of a hand at her back, fingers smoothing little, sleepy lines against her shirt.
She should sit up, wake him up. Wake up herself. The last thing she wants to do is embarrass him by staying like this, because why would he want to?
But, Jesus...it's so fucking nice. It's so nice. They didn't have a blanket over them all night but somehow Dera's still so warm. For a few moments, she entertains the mental image of sleepily asking him to lay down with her instead so they can be more comfortable, but that leads to picturing a bed instead of a sofa, and immediately she's back to focusing on the here and now.
She thinks she hears him mumble something, but she doesn't want to ask him to repeat himself, doesn't want to risk him coming-to too soon. ]
Don't be awake yet, please. [ Almost equally mumbled, though that's helped by how sleepy she still is. ] That means it's already morning...
Nu-uh. [Still half-asleep - maybe a little more than half - Dera shakes his head. And then a little, tiny smile curls on his lips, and he mutters:] Don't leave in the morning...s'breakfast time...
[Dera squeezes back a little more tightly in return, muttering:] Mm. Good...mhmm...
[Then his eyes flutter slowly open, and he sees who's wrapped around him. It takes him a minute to process - what a realistic dream this time. When it settles in that he's awake, he feels his cheeks flare up with heat.
[But he doesn't pull away. She's not pulling away. What sort of idiot would he be to break this sort of contact before its time? Still, there's no way this can be happening. Memories from the night before haven't quite flooded back yet.
[He says, more than a little stunned sounding:] Hey...
[ She doesn't want to pull away; she just wants to stay and sleep until there's no sleep left in either of them. But he sounds more awake now - the surprise in his tone not escaping her notice. She'll have to move eventually.
When he moves, maybe. Or he tells her to. ]
Hey...
[ For the time being, she just keeps her eyes closed, not quite nuzzling against him (the motion's far too subtle, and still groggy at that), but the intent's there. Even if her voice betrays the fact that she's awake for real. ]
..If you want me to move, I'm afraid you're going to have to stop being comfy...I don't make the rules...
[Dera decides in that moment to never, ever, ever stop being comfy, nor dare to move for fear of being less comfy than he is right here in this moment. His voice sounds more than a little weak when he says:]
Nope. Can't...do that. Sorry. [So they'll just have to stay put. Maybe that's what he'd say if he were smooth. He's not. His arms curl just a little more tightly around her.] M'just comfy. Born that way.
[ Perhaps if he's not ready to wake up properly (or get up, since it's obvious they're both awake now, begrudgingly or otherwise), she can make a small suggestion. ]
Speaking of...
[ Slowly, wary of the crick she's probably put in her neck for falling asleep at an odd angle, she opens her eyes, and frowns against the sunlight as she gently tugs on the front of his shirt. ]
Think the sofa's wide enough for both of us to lie down..?
[Dera's smile is sleepy and crooked, but present - very present. He glances away, so as not to go blind from looking at her too long in the sunlight like that. Gosh, but Esther is pretty. And he opens his mouth to let out a laugh that never quite comes through - but the smile is present.
[She's not kicking him away from her. She wants to lie down. He nods.] I'm a skinny guy. [Now he laughs, just a little - but it's somewhat forced, only for being nervous.] Here, uh..
[More halfway-to-laughter sounds as he shifts around a bit, trying his best to ease himself down between her and the back of the sofa without actually having to let go of her, lest it should shatter the illusion that they should be touching. He makes it there eventually, and if she'll let him, he'll keep an arm around her, drag one of the throw pillows from the edge of the sofa over so she can put her head on it. He can rest his own on the arm of the couch.] That...good?
[ She'd probably laugh if she could hear Dera's thoughts; she doesn't feel very pretty most of the time, but right after waking up, slightly hungover after passing out on another person? Yeah uh, 'press X to doubt'.
The fact he's happy to just stay with her is a relief, as is the feeling of finally laying down properly once they've both gotten themselves situated and comfortable. As her arm finds it's way around his middle in return, it feels like a long-held breath being exhaled, and when Dera checks that she's comfortable, she can only nod at first, nosing brushing against his throat with the motion, voice as soft as before. ]
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Waking up together ♡
She was used to sleeping on her own sofa, not someone else's. Sleeping there with someone else? Forget about it. Absolutely not. Sober, the idea of actually doing that made her panic, made her feel sick. Made her thankful for the extra locks on her door and the Doberman sleeping in the armchair next to her.
So when she opens her eyes the following morning, and feels unfamiliar material under her hand, unfamiliar smells, feels someone next to her, for a horrible few moments she forgets she's not in her own home. She tenses in very real fear, and almost pushes herself away to get some space before she notices faded blue. Realises what she can smell is the lingering scent of cigarettes.
Then she remembers, finally, where she is. Remembers how much she had to drink and that's why her head's hurting. Remembers who she was drinking with, and close to instantly, the tension leaves her. They're close - the fact that they're on a sofa and not a double bed means that that's something of a given - legs all tangled, arms around each other. They'd be nose-to-nose if Esther shifted up a little bit.
Move. Move, for fucks sake, get up. Before he wakes up.
Her heart's racing, but she doesn't shift even an inch. She settles and stays put, and instead wills herself to relax again. Gingerly, she replaces her hand on his back, and reminds herself that Dera's safe. That she's safe with him. ]
did someone say touch starved?
[For as lonely as Dera spends most of his nights, and for as little as he lets people spend the night, he loves cuddling like this. It could be a dream, he thinks. Maybe one about Esther again. What a lovely dream that would be...
[Still not quite awake, he mumbles something that's hard to understand - just his low, raspy voice trying to formulate words.] Y...sm...n...mmmm.
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She should sit up, wake him up. Wake up herself. The last thing she wants to do is embarrass him by staying like this, because why would he want to?
But, Jesus...it's so fucking nice. It's so nice. They didn't have a blanket over them all night but somehow Dera's still so warm. For a few moments, she entertains the mental image of sleepily asking him to lay down with her instead so they can be more comfortable, but that leads to picturing a bed instead of a sofa, and immediately she's back to focusing on the here and now.
She thinks she hears him mumble something, but she doesn't want to ask him to repeat himself, doesn't want to risk him coming-to too soon. ]
Don't be awake yet, please. [ Almost equally mumbled, though that's helped by how sleepy she still is. ] That means it's already morning...
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...I won't.
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[Then his eyes flutter slowly open, and he sees who's wrapped around him. It takes him a minute to process - what a realistic dream this time. When it settles in that he's awake, he feels his cheeks flare up with heat.
[But he doesn't pull away. She's not pulling away. What sort of idiot would he be to break this sort of contact before its time? Still, there's no way this can be happening. Memories from the night before haven't quite flooded back yet.
[He says, more than a little stunned sounding:] Hey...
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When he moves, maybe. Or he tells her to. ]
Hey...
[ For the time being, she just keeps her eyes closed, not quite nuzzling against him (the motion's far too subtle, and still groggy at that), but the intent's there. Even if her voice betrays the fact that she's awake for real. ]
..If you want me to move, I'm afraid you're going to have to stop being comfy...I don't make the rules...
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Nope. Can't...do that. Sorry. [So they'll just have to stay put. Maybe that's what he'd say if he were smooth. He's not. His arms curl just a little more tightly around her.] M'just comfy. Born that way.
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Feels like I was just born tired.
[ Perhaps if he's not ready to wake up properly (or get up, since it's obvious they're both awake now, begrudgingly or otherwise), she can make a small suggestion. ]
Speaking of...
[ Slowly, wary of the crick she's probably put in her neck for falling asleep at an odd angle, she opens her eyes, and frowns against the sunlight as she gently tugs on the front of his shirt. ]
Think the sofa's wide enough for both of us to lie down..?
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[She's not kicking him away from her. She wants to lie down. He nods.] I'm a skinny guy. [Now he laughs, just a little - but it's somewhat forced, only for being nervous.] Here, uh..
[More halfway-to-laughter sounds as he shifts around a bit, trying his best to ease himself down between her and the back of the sofa without actually having to let go of her, lest it should shatter the illusion that they should be touching. He makes it there eventually, and if she'll let him, he'll keep an arm around her, drag one of the throw pillows from the edge of the sofa over so she can put her head on it. He can rest his own on the arm of the couch.] That...good?
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The fact he's happy to just stay with her is a relief, as is the feeling of finally laying down properly once they've both gotten themselves situated and comfortable. As her arm finds it's way around his middle in return, it feels like a long-held breath being exhaled, and when Dera checks that she's comfortable, she can only nod at first, nosing brushing against his throat with the motion, voice as soft as before. ]
Mmnhm...yeah. Yeah, this is good.