She went to open her eyes but the room is a little too bright, the sun already higher in the sky than it's should be. Keeping them shut is a really good idea. Trying to shuffle further down the bed she finds she can't, the body lying tangled with hers is stopping her. She can't remember whose body she's tangled with, but it's definitely male. She's naked, he's naked, his chest and leg hair brushing against her skin causing involuntary shivers. She really should open her eyes and look to see who she is sharing a bed with, but doing that will make it real, make him real, what they obviously did going by the slight tenderness between her thighs real.
"I know you're awake." The gravely deep voice coming for behind her making her tense.
She knew that voice knew that voice as well as her own. Sketchy images started to flash behind her closed eyelids, drinking, lots of drinking, dancing, two big strong hands catching her as she stumbled. She can't stay hidden, she has to face him. Slowly so rolls over, his arm loosens its grip on her waist but stays where it is. She keeps her eyes shut until she's rolled completely to face him. Taking a deep steadying breath she slowly opens them, her first glimpse of him being his chest, grey hairs mixed in with brown. Dragging her eyes slowly upwards she sees his neck and an angry reddish purple hickey on the left-hand side. Then comes his chin and jaw, along with the grey beard that looks far too good on a man his age. Eventually, she gets her eyes level with his, brown meeting brown as they see each for the first time in the stark reality of the morning after they crossed that line.
"Morning." He says like it's an everyday run of the mill thing he does.
"Morning." She manages to reply as she studies his face and dark brown eyes, his features just as unreadable as ever.
Neither speaks, both unsure of how this is supposed to work. It's Boyd who makes the first move, cautious, tentative, very unlike Boyd. He uses the hand he still has around her waist to tightens his hold, drawing her body flush with his. Leaning his head down he placed his lips on her forehead, his breath warm, his beard softer than she thought it would be. She closes her eyes against the onslaught of memories, flashes of the night before coming back full force. Common sense says pull away, logic tells her this is all wrong, her body and heart telling her something completely different. She should pull away, stop what could be put down to drunken misadventures, but she's doesn't. Instead, she slides her arm over his waist, hooks her leg over his, any and all space between them now gone.
She feels him instantly relax, their bodies so close she can hear his rapid heartbeat.
"Frankie." His words a mere whisper against her skin.
She remembers hearing him say her name exactly the same way as he just did, his body sweaty and spent beneath her. His lips are still on her forehead as she places hers on his chest, her mouth partly open so he feels her breath skate over his skin.
"Frankie." Her name more of a groan this time as a memory of him being the one on top fills her mind.
"We really should talk about this, whatever the hell this is." Dragging her tongue across his chest where her lips had just been.
AN - This is the start of what ff class as a MA story. Due to their policy on the contents of fanfiction the rest of this story can't be posted here, but can be found on Archive Of Our Own (since they aren't strict and anything goes over there) under the same title and username as on here, Stargateloversteph (all one word), or can be found under the category Waking The Dead. The full version is very much adults only, thank you.