When you awake the next morning, you have somehow become the little spoon. "G'morning," you mumble sleepily, wriggling back into the warmth of Sam and away from the sunlight starting to stream in through the window. Suddenly, you feelsomething pressing against your butt. You stifle a giggle, but it's too late.
"Shit! Oh god!" Sam rolls away from you and onto his back frantically. Small moans in the back of your throat announce your protest at the sudden lack of warmth as you roll over to face him. "Sam," you say calmly, trying to rip his attention from misguided efforts at disguising the rather obvious tenting of the blankets. You say his name several more times before he finally turns his face and looks at you with big sheepish eyes and the reddest cheeks you've ever seen.
He starts mumbling "sorry" over and over again until you take his face with both your hands, forcing his mouth to be still and his eyes to meet yours. "It. Is. Ohhh…kay," you say slowly and deliberately.
"Really?" he mumbles, rosy cheeks still squished together by your hands. You nod emphatically. "Are you sure?" he asks, and you sigh. His cheeks darken and he looks like he's going to start apologizing again.
"For Christ's sake, Sam, it's a boner. It's fine," you whisper fiercely, "If I was a guy, I'd probably have a boner all the time. Don't fucking worry about it." You glance at the clock and groan—still only 8am. "It will go away on its own," you tell him, "Or, if you want, you can go into my bathroom and take care of it right now, but come back quickly because it's fricking freezing in here and I need you to keep me warm while we sleep another couple hours, kay?" You flash him a smile and he blushes again, causing you to grin harder.
Cautiously, he sticks a toe out of the comforter before quickly yanking it back in. "Nope," he says, "too cold. I'm staying here, beer breath." He laughs and self-consciously sticks his arm around you again. You bury your head in his shoulder and tangle a leg casually with his. Giggling, you hit him playfully on the chest, "You're one to talk, buttface." The two of you trade good-natured insults for a little while until you both fall back asleep.