#dave s

The first thing he notices when Dave blinks blurry eyes open is just how he feels.

The morning texan sun barley shines through the haphazardly hung curtains, giving the room a hazy glow kind of filter. It’s the only time of day besides sundown that the sun doesn’t burn his eyes— welcomes it in fact as red eyes become accustomed to a room that’s not his own. It takes a moment for Dave to remember how he ended up here, but he remembers clearly the movie night and the many cuddles the night before, turning over with a small smile to see your sleeping face.

You look good, in the early morning sun.

It’s times like this when Dave is alone that he allows himself to be a little sappy with no shame— eyes tracing over the way your eyelashes lay against the top of your cheeks, face smushed into the pillow case and lips pouted in a way that makes him laugh through his nose. Your positions changed over night as they usually do, and he’s a little perturbed at how he didn’t get to wake up before you with your body in his arms, but the sight makes up for it.

He’s gotten better at the love languages as your relationship progresses— still hard to reach out and brush a knuckle over your cheek gently, scared of being too soft not enough hard edges. It’s a difficult cycle to break, having to force himself to allow the smile to widen as you huff and turn into the touch. Dave knows you appreciate his vulnerability, crave it in fact. You’ve told him many times over how far he’s come, how proud you are for each step he takes. The sweet words and genuine care almost felt mocking at first, not sure if you really meant everything that came from your lips— but you had never been offended. Never once did his hardened edges turn you off.

(E/c) eyes blink open, and Dave’s heart clenches as a sleepy smile of your own crosses your lips.

“Mornin’, you’ve got drool on your cheek.”

His voice is husky when it comes out, drawing a jokingly offended huff from your lips as a hand comes to wipe at your face. You go to wipe it on his shirt, laughing hazily as he grunts and shifts away— a few moments of slow tussling before the two of you are settled. Dave’s hands itch to hold you, twitching as they rest on his stomach, unable to move until you do it yourself, head resting on his shoulder and nose pressing into the crook of his neck; a delighted hum fills the room as he finally tucks an arm under your waist and pull you closer. The nerves dissipate, and he’s able to press a kiss to the crown of your head without his lips trembling.

You’re warm and sweet against him, tracing patterns into his chest and easing his muscles one by one until he’s sunk back into your comforter, body buzzing with pleasant static and and ruby eyes fluttering closed as he basks in your presence, the sun steadily growing brighter and shining through your room.

“Going back to sleep?” Your voice is mumbled against his shirt but he can hear clearly, fingers reaching up to trail along your back and chuckle at the little moan that stifles out as he presses into what must be a tense spot. Dave shakes his head, rolling over to bury himself in your neck now, any shame left leaving his body as your arms wrap around his back tightly and hold him close.

“No, but I wanna stay like this for awhile though.”