Dearne was awoken by the pain in his leg. He moved to try and get it into a less awkward position, but he found himself bound by a pair of arms. He stopped, opened his eyes, and almost choked. Will Marsden was holding him. He was laying half on top of the man to be fair, but those arms were definitely holding him. Weak sunlight filtered through the room giving him something of a view of the chest he was using for a pillow.
Will was wearing a charmingly respectable nightshirt, but it was unlaced at the neck, leaving a large gap which revealed a surprisingly muscled chest, dusted with dark hair. It was warm beneath his cheek, and he could feel the soft thud of his heart. He ran his hand down Will’s torso, wishing he could remove the nightshirt and feel his skin. He wanted to pursue his jour
