@arrepentirse | X
Leon has never experienced a morning after in someone else's bed. Never. Under normal circumstances he would have respectfully slipped out of the apartment by now. There had always been a mutual understanding — it was a one night stand.
Only, this was something different. It makes his head swim. He doesn't want to wash his hands of Luis. Far from it. Which adds to the cocktail of confusing thoughts and feelings as he sits at the edge of the bed, his head lowered.
Subtle movements prompt him to lift his head again.
Not-so-subtle lips pressing to his shoulder prompt him to turn, his own lips parting.
He can feel the warmth in his cheeks. A stutter in his tongue — because if he speaks now, his words will skip. Luis doesn't tease him for his awkwardness. Or the shyness. Which is a little rich, considering their hot and heavy touches last night.
"What..?" Leon asks softly. Luis has listed his usual routine. He feels his stomach do a flip.
He turns a little more but Luis is on the move. He turns the other way to watch him go and he's stunned in place. Now that he's alone? It doesn't feel different. He's tense and he has to catch his breath. After another moment he flops back and covers his face with his hands. Stupid. He's stupid.
His hands lift to drive through his hair. Staring at the ceiling doesn't make him feel any better either. Instead of noises from the shower, Luis will instead hear the heavier footsteps of a rattled agent hunting for him. It almost sounds like he's making a run for it.
Instead he simultaneously crashes into his target and wraps his arms in a greedy tangle to pull him close. The calm domesticity is about as rocked as Luis from the action of being pushed then pulled. He doesn't say anything. Not even when he eases back. His hand — it trembles — cups and holds the pleasant roughness of Luis' stubbled cheek. His eyes are searching for something. He looks wild and confused.
Then, slowly, he dips forward. His lips press to Luis' tentatively. His lashes close and he presses with a little more confidence, like he remembers how they fit together. He wants to be closer. Which is precisely why he eases away from the kiss. His adam's apple bobs in a thick swallow as his fierce hold gentles. He wills himself to open his lashes, but not without moving to rest their foreheads together in a sweet press.
He looks calmer. He doesn't want to pull away. Doesn't want just one night. "... good morning." he finally offers in a whisper. It's like he's afraid of breaking something.
