Sure, the nights where he’d have your body writhing under his as his big hands explored your body in ways no one else has were nice, but the two of you can admit the mornings after were what you two sought the most. Lazy, languid kisses—even with morning breath—that trailed down your body, cuddles that made you two late to practice, and having his body practically engulf yours from behind as you tried to get dressed in front of the mirror.

It’s without saying that the two of you are obsessed with each other. Even whilst trying to keep your relationship low-key at work, it was obvious to everyone around that you two had something going on.

His hand that isn’t running through your hair rests on the small of your back as you lie belly-down on your guys’ shared bed, the repetitive motion of rubbing your soft skin providing some warmth. The background noise of the morning news on the TV being drowned out by the sound of him talking to you in that morning voice that made you wonder once or thrice if he was a male siren.

“We have to get up. As cute as you look right now, you’d—we’d—look cuter not fired.” He murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your bare hip. You could see his back muscles stretch as he hunched over, his biceps flexing as he pushed himself forward, closer to you.

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek that was marked red from sleeping with your face pressed up against your arm, down your back that subtly arched at the feeling of his lips, and to your hip, nosing at the flesh before he looked back up at you, watching you do everything but attempt to get up. “Baby… c’mon.” He whispers, nudging your elbow.

“Was the aftercare too good?” He chuckled. Oh, the aftercare was a whole different story.