The morning dawned cool and pale and new around the edges, blue and white and clean; Robert yawned, felt a firm cozy weight draped all around him, felt the poke of a hot hardness against his backside, and hastily woke up more.
And then he smiled. Anthony. In his bed. Being very much inclined toward cuddling in sleep, apparently. Long possessive limbs had wrapped themselves around Robert’s body, and Anthony’s breath tickled his ear, and Robert had never been so happy. He thought he might break apart with the immensity of it; he just lay there holding the feeling in both hands and letting it wash over him.
The air tasted a bit chilly, though the sun was well up; the room was light, the way he felt. He couldn’t see the clock, and wondered about the time. Would everyone else have breakfasted
