Andy rolls over to his front, curling up instantly at the feel of cold sheets. Blearily, he squints in the cool grey morning light. “Ben?”
When he gets no answer, he sighs, pushing himself upright and swinging himself out of bed. “Ben?” He calls again, grabbing the nearest pair of boxers to him (probably Bens because they were so comfortable) and shrugging on the first shirt his sluggish sleep warm hands hand on (again, Ben’s). Ignoring the chill of the floorboards, he quickly tiptoes out of the room and into the kitchen.
Ben stands with his back to the door, eyes looking out into the spider lights of the city. The sun signals her arrival with the gold dustings in the clouds, making the entire skyscape look like the product of a child’s fingerpainting. It’s beautiful, serene.
“Hey.” Andy murmurs slipping his arms around Ben’s waist, brushing butterfly kisses to the space between his shoulder blades. “You’re up early.”
Ben tilts his head, arching back to greet him with a soft smile. “Just wanted to think for a bit.” He gently places his hands over Andy’s, twisting around in the circle of his arms. “You looked like you were having a good dream.” Ben ducks his head, pressing his forehead to Andy’s.
They stay locked in their embrace, drinking in the presence of the other as the molten sunlight begins to creep in through the blinds, the streetlights switching off as one at the sign of morn.
“I hate being away from you.” Ben confesses, the words tumbling out into the still morning air. “I hate hiding. I hate not being there with you all the time, I hate…”
“Ben.” Andy brackets his face with his hands, anchoring him. “I hate this too.”
Ben sighs, closing his eyes, letting his body melt against him. “You know I belong to you. My body, heart and soul. It’s all yours. You know that right?”
Andy smoothes his hands down the lines of his shoulders. “I know. And I am yours. However you want me.”
Ben brushes their lips together, catching in a sweet press. Andy will never tell him, never admit it to anyone else but God and the most secret holds of his memories that these moments; just the two of them, no press, no pressure from the public, no expectations, just them and the air and the earth. It is these kinds of moments when the world is not looking their way, that he loves the most.
“Come back to bed?” Andy whispers, nuzzling against the tip of Ben’s nose. “Whatever it is that’s going on in that big brain of yours, we can work it out together.”
Andy does not wait for an answer, tugging Ben’s hand until he follows.
“What did I ever do to deserve you?” Ben wonders aloud, lips curved upwards in a soft fond smile as they tumble back onto mussed sheets.
Andy chuckles, wriggling until he is plastered to Ben’s side, “I think the feeling is exquisitely mutual.” He grins.
He feels the press of lips to his brow. “Go to back to sleep, Andy.” And he can hear the smile in Ben’s voice.