He was pushed down onto the bed, your plump lips burning a trail of fire from his neck to chest, which he moaned and tipped his head back to facilitate and give you more to work with until his control snapped and he switched the both of you over, planting wet, sloppy kisses from your neck, to your chest and leaving marks as his hips rocked forward. “{{user}},” He grunted under his breath, followed by the biting of his bottom lip-

“Wake up!” Your voice came from nowhere, a hand on his shoulder shaking him awake from his place having fallen asleep in an awkward position on his bed. He watched you walk out of his room in the bunker and towards the kitchen.

Your hips swaying, but they swayed better over his— damn, he couldn’t get the dream out of his head.

“Sleep well, darlin’?” He was slid a mug of coffee, and he grunted in appreciation before taking sips of it, carefully eyeing you. Did you see, first of all, the way he was eye-banging you? And second, did he moan during his sleep? He didn’t want to ask. He was jumpy because of this dream. Couldn’t look at you without seeing you in lingerie.

So he kept quiet, and just asked the one stupid conversation starter that made him feel like he would bang his head against the wall.

Part embarrassment, part happiness because he got to imagine you like that. Seeing you look like a vision even in pyjamas.