And I'm flying so high, high off the ground…
The sun peeked through the window, dancing across the bedroom. Monroe's eyes slowly opened, and he tried to determine where he was at.
What was the thing on his chest?
Monroe turned his head over, and saw Nick lying next to him, hand on Monroe's chest. He smiled, remembering the events that had taken place last night. Slowly, trying not to wake the Grimm from his hangover, Monroe stood up and went to his room to get into his workout clothes.
It was later in the morning than Monroe was used to for his Pilates, but he didn't mind all too much. He had slept so peacefully, and almost didn't want to get out of bed. But, if he was going to keep the wolf in check, he had to follow his regimen of diet and exercise. He clambered downstairs and got straight to work. About an hour later, he finished and went upstairs to shower.
In his bedroom, Nick awoke to the sound of the shower running. A headache began tugging at his temples, and he pulled the covers up over his head. Well, that would teach him to not drink that much. He laid there for a moment, not wanting to get up from the warmth of the bed. As he tried to get his thoughts straight in his still somewhat inebriated mind, Nick heard footsteps walking across the floor of his room. He peeked through the covers, and saw Monroe standing over his bed, holding a mug out to him.
"Coffee for your hangover, Mr. Burkhardt?" Monroe smiled, handing him the mug.
"Yeah, thank you." Nick sat up, taking the mug. He held it in his hands for a moment, letting the warmth creep across his palms. He took a long sip, letting the warmth run its course down his body.
"So, sleep well last night?" Monroe said, sitting down at the foot of the bed.
"Actually, yeah. Waking up was the sucky part. I was having… ah, never mind. You don't want to hear." Nick set his mug down on the nightstand. Monroe gave him a look, and he put a coaster under it.
"Nah, it's okay, go ahead." Monroe said, trying to prompt the Grimm to spill the beans.
"I was just having a nice dream, that's all." Nick smiled. There was a low grumble, and he chuckled. "Wow, I'm hungry. So, breakfast?" Nick hopped out of bed.
"I can pull together some toast and eggs, if you want." Monroe smiled.
"I'd like that."
The boys sat down to eat breakfast. Nick's headache was starting to diminish, thanks to the coffee. He was finally able to think straight again, and had finally gotten dressed in some fresh clothes. Monroe had made toast with jam, and was busy whipping up some eggs for Nick.
"So, do you remember much of anything about last night, or did the hangover wipe your memory?" Monroe asked, scrambling the eggs.
"I remember a little bit. I do remember being sick, and feeling like death for a while." Nick chuckled. "And I do remember you helping me to bed."
"Remember anything after that?" Monroe asked hesitantly, not sure if Nick would remember them climbing into bed together.
"No, not much after that. Just waking up in bed this morning." Nick rubbed at his shoulder.
But Nick knew that was a lie.
He remembered everything. He remembered Monroe climbing into bed with him. He remembered how warm and safe he had felt next to the blutbad. Even in the depths of his dreams, Nick could remember reaching out and placing a hand on Monroe's chest, feeling every breath he took.
But Nick wasn't about to tell Monroe that. No, that would ruin things between them.
Monroe was Nick's best friend, and he didn't want to ruin what they had together.
"Hello, earth to Nick!" Monroe waved a hand in front of Nick's face, waking him from his thoughts. "Sheesh, sure you're not still a little drunk in their?" He said, poking Nick's forehead.
"Sorry, guess I'm still a little out of it. I'm alright." Nick smiled. "Are the eggs almost done?"
"Yep, just let me put 'em on a plate." Monroe set the eggs on the table, and Nick dug right in, hoping Monroe wouldn't ask more questions.
Monroe sat down across the table from Nick, slowly digging into his breakfast. He couldn't believe Nick didn't remember any of what happened last night.
He wouldn't believe it.
He knew Nick had to remember at least a shred of detail about the night they had shared, even being as drunk as he was. The way Nick had moved closer to him in bed, the way he had laid a protective hand on him, he knew that somewhere deep in his mind, Nick knew what had happened.
But how was he going to get him to let it slip?