You awoke before him, as you often did.

There was soft sunlight leaking through the curtains, warm and golden. It striped across the two entangled bodies. It was still quiet in the room, the silence that happens before the world gets moving again.

You moved carefully, trying to slip out of his hold without waking him. Your body was still warm against his, holding the whispers from the night before: the muffled laughter, hands reaching out for each other in the dark, that sense of deep, abiding possession. The memory slid through you like a gentle shudder.

But you didn’t make it very far.

An arm slid around your waist, strong and infinitely confident, and Dick pulled you back against the warmth of his bare chest. His body felt warm, comfortable in that way that made your breath gradually come more easily without you even noticing. His breathing rustled against the hair in your head, the tightening of his fingers into you as if the rest of the world could just hold on for another minute.

His nose was grazing your forehead, a nudge that was almost sleep-driven.

“Five more minutes”

he whispered, his voice husky with sleep, deep and unself-conscious.