He turns over in his sleep, pulling you up from your slumber. You're both lying on the couch, limbs tangled together, and the starting screen of some movie playing its song over and over again on the television. He had rented that movie earlier at Blockbuster, telling you that you'd love it.
You had both fallen asleep on the couch halfway in, not even bothering to turn the lights off, or turn the volume down. As you're waking up, you realize how cold the room is. Probably because you didn't pay the heating bill. Also it's the middle of December, Christmas fast approaching.
John's next to you, keeping you warm, but that isn't enough. You need to go to bed. You're cold and it's probably some ungodly hour of the morning. You look at the little glowing light on the DVD player. It's two in the morning.
You shake John's shoulder. "Up and at 'em," you mumble. He just groans, burying his head farther into your neck. "C'mon John. I'm cold and it's late, we need to go to bed."
He sighs and lets go of you, letting you both sit up. John rests his head on your shoulder again, eyes closed. "Hey, don't nod off on me again." You nudge his head off of you and take his hand.
"What time is it?" he asks in a drowsy voice. You find him utterly adorable at times like this, when he's unable to do anything but cuddle and kiss and let you hold him.
You kiss his cheek. "It's two o'clock in the goddamn morning." He groans. "Maybe we can take a sick day."
He nods and you both stand up, you dragging him upstairs and towards your room. He gets in bed immediately and closes his eyes, still half-asleep from "watching" your movie. You stifle a laugh and take off his glasses, setting them down somewhere where they won't get crushed. You had taken your shades off to watch the movie with him, and you had accidentally left them downstairs. You will regret that in the morning, when the sun will shine through your window and right into your eyes.
You take off your pants, leaving you in a T-shit and boxers. As soon as you climb into bed after him, he puts his arms around you, kissing your collar bone. "I thought you wanted to sleep?" you murmur. He says something you can't make out in an attempt to respond to you. You sigh, and pull him into you, breathing in the smell of his shampoo.
You run your hands through his hair; how he keeps it so soft is a mystery. He has the thickest hair you've ever seen. John runs trails of kisses from your collarbone, up your neck, and makes his way to your face. "Hey Dave," he says.
You close your eyes, and you can feel his hands stroking different parts of your face. "What?"
"I love you," he says and kisses the tip of your nose.
"I love you, too," you respond. He kisses your chin. "God dammit, John."
He kisses your forehead. "What's wrong, baby?". He's smirking. That cocky motherfucker.
"Stop it and kiss me properly, like a man." You're surprised when he actually does, and stops teasing you. His lips are warm, and you like that. The house is freezing, and the only thing capable of giving off heat like this is John. You pull him closer, trying to warm yourself up.
He sucks in a breath when your hands stray under his shirt, writing pretend words on your back. He deepens the kiss, grabbing your shirt at the top of your back and yanking you under his body.
So much for sleeping, you think. His hands move through your hair, and your hands dance along the soft skin of his back. John licks your bottom lip. Oh no, you are not doing this right now. It's two in the fucking morning and you're both scheduled for work tomorrow.
But you're not thinking straight because god, this boy is a good kisser. He's had some practice, you think. You have taught him well. You open your mouth, allowing his tongue inside of your mouth. You groan, ashamed that you're letting him do this, and he thinks it's a groan of pleasure. So he starts biting your lower lip. And that's where you draw the line.
"Stop", you mutter against his lips.
He pulls away from up, straddling your hips. "What's wrong, Dave?"
"I woke you up and brought you to bed so we can sleep, not so we can make out."
John nods. "Okay." He looks a little disappointed. You kiss his forehead, and pull him back down so he's still lying on top of you. He snuggles back into you like he was on the couch. His legs tangled up with yours, arms around each other, stroking hair or backs, and heads close together.
"Dave?" he asks in a low tone, right before you're both about to fall asleep.
"Wha-?" you respond, so tired that you can't even form full words. It's now three in the morning.
"I love you. So much."
You smirk and mutter something under your breath right before sleep takes you. "I love you, too, you cheesy dork."