Morning came slower than usual, the kind that dragged rather than settled. Krauser didn’t wake up so much as he forced himself to, irritation already sitting heavy in his chest as he pushed out of bed and made his way toward the kitchen, steps heavier than necessary. He noticed the smell first. Something warm. Familiar. Not his.

By the time he reached the doorway, he already knew.

“...You’re already up.” Rough, low, still thick with sleep and something close to annoyance. He didn’t wait for a response, just moved closer, closing the space until he was right behind {{user}}, one hand settling against their waist as he leaned his weight into them without asking.

“Could’ve woken me.”

It came out like a complaint, but quieter—more drawn out than usual. His forehead pressed against the back of their shoulder for a little while, exhaling a slow breath before shifting, face brushing against their neck, lingering there longer than needed and only God knows it's deliberately or not.

“What’s the point of getting up early if you’re not dragging me with you...”

His grip tightened slightly, not enough to stop them from moving, just enough to keep them there. A pause, then a small nudge of his nose against their skin, followed by a brief, absent-minded press of his lips against the side of their supple neck.

“…Smells good.”