The art of Cuddling

(Why is Carlos so good at it?)

The first time I woke up and Carlos had unknowingly climbed into bed with me, all I remember initially registering was that it was warm. Like, there's another human being in bed with me, warm. My eyes flew open, and I looked around. Nothing was out of the ordinary. I was laying down, relaxed, on top of the bed sheets, as it was about 75 degrees outside and blankets weren't necessary. The room was bathed in warm sunlight, and it was about 10 o'clock in the morning, about time to get breakfast started. Then I saw a shirt that definitely wasn't mine laying on the floor. Next to a pair of boots that weren't mine.

Errr… what? That was definitely Carlos's shirt, and his boots. I desperately hoped his pants weren't laying around too. That would be awkward. Especially since I have a huge ass crush on the man, so….

That's when I registered the arm flung over my waist. I saw familiar tanned, calloused hands, strong arms, and the feeling of Carlos's warm chest against my back. I felt his breath ghost over my ear as he shifted, and suddenly I was wide awake. Carlos was cuddled up in bed with me. Gwen. He was spooning me.

I wonder why. Carlos is not a cuddler. He was as stiff as a board when I first hugged him, and believe me, he still doesn't hug too well unless he's upset about something, which happens when? Only when I get hurt, or he gets mad at a former friend of his stopping by and still being totally addicted to drugs. Which happens about once every 3 months or so.

Maybe he sleepwalks? He did get home pretty late last night, as I was already in bed, so maybe he was so tired he just didn't care? I slap a hand to my face, deeming the situation too weird to be just sitting here and thinking about it. I hear my stomach rumble, and I carefully slip out of his arms, moving quietly out of the room on bare feet to go make some breakfast. I wonder if he brought food home last night.

As I carefully pull out some of the fresh eggs and bacon he got last night, I wait for the familiar stomping of his boots coming down the stairs. He's got some sort of sixth sense when it comes to me making food, and trust me, he eats it like there's no tomorrow. Geez… I start frying three eggs and a good chunk of bacon for the two of us, and fry some bread in the leftover bacon grease with spices for a treat. Carlos loves fried bread with his breakfast. He smiles happily, a genuine smile, as he eats it, and he savors every single bite.

Sure enough, just as I plate the food, Carlos comes down the stairs, but he isn't wearing his boots. He pads into the kitchen on bare feet, getting a glass of water and gulping it down thirstily, and then he sits at the table. "Mornin'." He says, ruffling his disheveled hair. I smile back at him, and grab two forks before setting the plates down on the table, passing his plate to him.

"Morning. I hope you're hungry." I say, passing him his fork. He takes it, and then he notices the slight blush on my face, as I can't help it because he freaking cuddled me last night. He raises an eyebrow, and says, "I'm always hungry…. You made Fried Bread!? I love you!" He cheers and happily takes a huge chomp out of the bread and bacon.

"So good." He mumbles through his mouthful of food.

My eyes widen slightly at the declaration, but I can't help but smile at his happiness at something so simple. Maybe I need to make it more often. I made it once as an experiment, because we didn't have stuff for French toast, and I gave Carlos a tester piece as he had wanted a snack. He had taken one bite and melted in happiness, his cheesy smile giving me all the feedback I needed. It was his favorite food from then on. The stupid dork had then eaten about 4 pieces of it before I told him no, and he had pouted but agreed.

I happily eat my own breakfast, but as we reach the end of the meal, I realize that I have to ask.

"Um… Carlos?"

He looks at me with surprise, taken aback by the awkward tone of 'I'm-gonna-ask-something-that's-really-awkward-please-don't-hate-me' in my voice.

"Yeah?" He asks, eating his last bit of fried bread.

"Do you sleepwalk, by any chance?" I ask, not looking at him, but focusing on my last bit of breakfast.

"Er… Not that I know, why?" He's more confused now than ever. "Did I do something last night?" He's staring at me with something akin to slight horror.

"No! Not like that! You just… uh… you spooned me all last night. I woke up the morning and you were cuddling with me." I can feel my face turning red. Way to go face. Thanks a lot. I love looking like a tomato.

"uhhh…." He mutters, and when I look up, his tan face is slowly blushing harder and harder, his dark eyes wide.

"I didn't mind. I was just wondering what happened last night?" I blurt out quickly, not wanting to ruin our friendship. He looks at me for a few seconds, his expression odd, but his eyes still embarrassed.

"Err… I got home really late and I was tired and um… I guess I fell into the wrong bed… Sorry." He's so embarrassed he can't even speak. Oh man.

I get up and go start making some more food, as I'm still hungry.

"It's alright. I was just wondering what happened. That's all." I pop in some more food for him too, as he is still hungry too. He stands up and goes to get some more water, and I can't help but watch the muscles in his back move as he does so.

He turns to face me, leaning against the counter. "You really didn't mind?" He's incredulous now, but watching and trying not to drool as I start making some more fried bread.

"No. I don't mind physical contact, especially with someone I trust. I used to be in platonic puppy piles with my friends, when I was younger, back in America all the time. And with my siblings. It was part of who I was."

He nods, and his eyes widen slightly. "So if it happened again, you would be fine with it?" He asks, eagerly accepting his plate of food when I hand it to him.

"Sure. I just didn't peg you as a cuddler." I say, heading back to the table to eat. Carlos follows, munching on fried bread and bacon. He raises an eyebrow at the comment, but swallows before responding.

"I'm like you, I guess. I'm okay with it, as long as I trust the person. You are the only person I really do trust." He looks up, his dark eyes serious, and I find that I can't breathe from the shock. He trusts me. This man, he just confessed that I'm the only person he trusts.

I nod wordlessly, not able to speak, and that seems good enough for him. He finishes eating, and I do too, quietly clearing our plates when we are done. However, after I set the dishes down in the sink, he grabs me to him tightly in a hug. I hesitate for a moment, but then I wrap my arms around his warm back, and his forehead drops to my shoulder.

"Benji died last night." Four words, and I know why he is so sad. This kind, honest, and caring man just lost another man he was trying to save. I hold him closer, he shakes against me, his hands bunching in my shirt and pulling me closer. I can't help but notice how much larger he is than me, with him being at least 5 inches taller than me.

"I'm sorry Carlos." I say, hugging him tightly. He sighs, and pulls back, but his hands stay on my hips, keeping me close.

"Yeah. Me too. He deserved a chance." He shakes his head. "I should've known."

"You couldn't have." He nods, and stays silent, then looks at me, and I look back.

"We need more food if you want dinner tonight." I say randomly, and he throws his head back, fighting a laugh, and failing. Epically.

"Yeah. Let me go get my boots on and we can go get some food." He stomps up the stairs and I follow him, as I'm gonna steal one of his bandannas as a hair holding back device. This is the start to a normal day.

And it looks like it's gonna be a good one.