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Lazy Sundays

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Steve wakes slowly, trying to make himself go back to sleep by burrowing underneath the blankets, seeking out the warmth of Danny’s body and wrapping himself around his still-sleeping partner. There was a time when Steve would have jumped out of bed, ready to start the day as soon as he woke, but now he takes his mornings slower. Weeks of living with Danny have taught him the rewards of staying in bed for a little while longer, especially on the days when they don’t have Grace and Charlie over.

Lazy Sundays, Danny calls it, even though they can happen on any day of the week where they don’t have to go to work.

He puts it off as long as he can but eventually, he does have to get out of bed to use the bathroom. Danny gives a snuffle of displeasure when he moves away but he quickly rolls over and wraps an arm around Steve’s now abandoned pillow. When he comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later Danny’s still in the same position, breathing deeply into the mounds of blanket piled around him and he debates whether he should just crawl right back into bed but the growling of his stomach quashes that idea.

When he gets downstairs he can hear the distant sounds of traffic and the waves lapping at the beach but inside the house is still quiet with sleep. It’s the first type of silence he’s experienced that hasn’t been stifling and he’s reluctant to break the spell as he starts getting breakfast ready.

Danny comes down as he’s just finishing cooking, still bleary-eyed and dressed in just a pair of his old Navy sweatpants. “Morning,” he greets Danny and receives a grumble that could pass as a greeting.

“Whatcha doing?” Danny asks when he’s finished half his cup of coffee, peering around him at the now empty griddle and running a hand up his bare back.

“Cooking breakfast.” He tries to ignore the goosebumps he feels breaking out wherever Danny runs his hand but that becomes difficult when Danny sets his coffee cup down and wraps his arms around him, making sure to move at a tantalizingly slow pace.

“Breakfast sounds good,” Danny starts kissing a trail between his shoulder blades and Steve waits with baited breath for him to finish his sentence, “But I know something that sounds even better.”

“And what’s that?” he asks, playing along with Danny’s game.

“I’ll give you a hint. It involves you, me, and that big comfy bed upstairs,” Danny teases, his hands starting to drift towards the hem of his boxers.

“The food will get cold,” he says just to be difficult.

“That’s what we have a microwave for,” Danny kisses him right on the back of the neck and pulls away, “You coming?”

Danny gives him a flirty smile, sauntering back to the stairs and Steve follows right on his heels.