*Sean*
I am dead tired after a 12 hour shift at the hospital. My feet are dragging as I trudge from the elevator to my condo. I open the door and am greeted by silence, but a quick look to the left reveals Owen's shoes neatly placed on the mat. I smile as I drop my keys on the table by the door and kick my shoes haphazardly next to Owens. I pull my shirt over my head as I walk back to the bedroom and pause momentarily in the doorway to absorb the sight of Owen peacefully asleep in my bed. I definitely like coming home to that. It would only be better if Pookie was there next to him, and I'm hoping that will be the case tomorrow.
I toss my shirt onto the floor next to the hamper and drop my pants there as well. Down to my shorts, I pull the covers back and slip in. Owen is so freaking warm. I wiggle in closer to his body heat and he reaches for me, wrapping one arm around me and pulling me closer. I go willingly. He nuzzles into my neck and squeezes me against his chest, "mmm, hi." His voice is heavy with sleep and the low grumble warms me from the inside out.
"Hi, Doodle-Bug," I reply softly, holding back a chuckle when he shakes his head slowly at the pet name. "I could get used to this," I tell him, "coming home to you in my bed. Our bed."
He pulls back enough to look at my face and squints one eye open, "that's kind of the idea, Sean," he mumbles sleepily
"I know," I tell him, closing the gap between us once more and settling my lips over his, "just saying," I mumble against his mouth and then silence any possible retort with a quick kiss. I snuggle down next to him and we easily settle into a comfortable position together, my cheek on his chest, one arm over his stomach, our legs entwined. I release a contented sigh and sink deeper into him; closing my eyes I feel like I could fall asleep instantly. "Goodnight, Sexy."
I can hear the amusement in his voice as he replies, "goodnight, Sean."
Today I get to spend the whole day with my two loves. I stretch with a yawn and then roll over into a warm spot on the bed that tells me Owen hasn't been up for long. Before I even consider actually getting out of bed I hear movement in the bathroom and then Owen's walking back into the room.
"Morning, Boyfriend," he greets me as he climbs back under the covers.
"Good morning, Chipmunk," I respond with a grin, making room for him. "So what are we doing today?"
"Well, I did some research and discovered there's a festival in John's Island today," he tells me as he snuggles up to me, laying his head on my chest, "I thought maybe we could go check it out."
That sounds perfect. "Absolutely," I tell him. "So when do we go get Pookie?"
"I texted her as well as Mr. Griffin and Mr. Coleman to see if they were up, so I guess we have some time until one of them responds. The Harvest Festival doesn't start until 11:00 anyway."
I nod mindlessly as I take in that information, we have a few hours to kill. I run my fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp and feel him relax into me. "What do you want to do until then, Boo?" I ask. I sincerely wasn't goading him with that one, but I'm certainly not disappointed when his palm slides down my stomach and his face turns into my chest, letting his lips connect with my skin. It will be 11:00 before we know it.
*Owen*
Sweaty and panting we both fall back on the mattress. I love mornings at Sean's apartment. Or I guess I should say our apartment. I need to start planning the move. Give my landlord notice, figure out where all my furniture's going to end up.
"Back up in your head already?" Sean asks, propping himself up on one elbow and turning towards me.
I feel the corner of my mouth tug up in the start of a smile and answer him, "I was just thinking about what I need to do to actually move in." He responds with a broad grin and begins tracing one solitary finger up and down my stomach, tracing the dip between my abs.
"Having you here the last couple of nights I guess I forgot you don't actually live here yet."
I reach up to cup his cheek, tracing my thumb lightly over his lips and following the movement with my eyes. He nips teasingly at the pad of my thumb and before I can respond in kind a chime from the nightstand interrupts my line of thought. Sean flops down across me, forcing an 'oof' of released air from my lungs and scoops up my phone.
"It's Pookie," he informs me, "looks like they're awake." He twists on top of me to lay a quick peck on my lips and then he's off and headed toward the bathroom. I smile and shake my head at his impulsiveness before digging the phone out of the blankets to answer Sang's text.
Be there soon.
I hear the shower start and indulge in a momentary fantasy. Soapy water dripping down Sean's toned back, over the curve of his ass. The stark white of the suds a hard contrast to his taut, tanned skin. In my mind's eye Sean looks over his shoulder at me winks. Suddenly I remember that my new boyfriend status means that image doesn't have to be a fantasy anymore. In a flash I am on my feet and headed into the bathroom to join him.
*Sang*
Owen Blackbourne: Be there soon.
I smile at the text message from Owen. So concise. Slipping the phone into the back pocket of my shorts I go back to the task at hand. I tug a wad of damp fabric out of the washing machine and toss it into the dryer. Two more armloads and a stray pair of boxers later and the washer is empty. I toss in a dryer sheet and just as I'm studying over the controls looking for the right setting I feel a firm, warm body come up behind me and muscular arms wrap around my waist. I lean back into Nate's chest and take a deep breath of cyprus and leather. He nuzzles his nose just behind my ear and his lips graze my neck.
"Do my eyes deceive me, or are you doing my laundry, Peanut?"
I turn in his arms and wrap my own around his neck, smiling up at him. "I'm doing our laundry, Honey." I never thought I'd run out of clean clothes with how much stuff Gabe and Victor bought me, and new things seem to constantly just appear in my closet, but I was officially running low on clean underwear this morning, so I'm doing a load of delicates and have piles sorted all over the laundry room floor of Nate's and my clothes.
Nate takes in the piles around the room and gives me a small smirk, "aren't you going out with Mr. B and the doc today?" I nod, not piecing together what he's implying. "So who's going to finish all this laundry?"
Oh, right. Shoot. He just shakes his head at me and without warning grabs me by the hips and hoists me onto the dryer. I instinctively spread my knees to allow him to step closer and he breathes seductively into my ear. "You'll just have to make it up to me later." I shiver slightly at the enticing words, magnified by the tickle of his hot breath on my skin, and then am left cold as he steps away, seemingly unaffected by the tortuous taunt he just left me with. He easily scoops up one of my sorted piles and dumps a mixture of our jeans and dark t-shirts into the machine, starts the water and dumps in some detergent.
Once the second load is going he steps back between my legs, locks eyes with me and begins to lean in; a man on a mission. My heart rate accelerates with his closeness and my mouth goes dry, waiting anxiously to see what he'll do next. His fingers trail lightly up both of my thighs and then with a firm grip that seems to melt my insides he pulls my hips forward to the edge of the machine. His arms stretch out on either side of me and he leans in even closer, nudging my nose with his and then stopping with the barest centimeter separating our lips. I can feel his hot breath mixing with mine and my eyes drift close, waiting for the moment our mouths will connect.
I vaguely register a 'click' sound and then I about jump out of my skin when the dryer begins to vibrate beneath me. He laughs at my reaction and steps back once more. "Come on, Peanut. Let's get you some breakfast before they get here," and with that he takes my hand, tugs me off the dryer and leads me back toward the kitchen.
When my heart rate finally returns to normal after his flirting and being startled half to death by the dryer I swat at his arm. "You're so mean!" I say with a laugh as we get into the kitchen. I turn to Gabe, scrambling up some eggs at the stove, "Nate's vying for your title, Meanie," I tell him.
"Nuh uh," Nate retorts, "you're the one making me do chores on a Sunday." I can hear in his voice that he doesn't mind, at all.
"Are you making trouble again, Trouble?" Gabe asks, turning to scoop the finished eggs onto three plates.
"No," I answer with mock defensiveness, "Nate's the trouble maker today." Getting me all hot and bothered and then leaving me high and dry. Nate releases my hand to scoop up two of the plates and turns toward the table, winking at me as he goes.
We all settle at the table and dig in; conversation ceases as we enjoy the delicious breakfast Gabe made. I swear these boys must have taken cooking lessons or something because they are all remarkably competent in the kitchen. I'm just finishing my last bite when I hear the front door open and a grin overtakes my face. Sean and Owen must be here for our date.