Matthew & Daniel

The daylight is only beginning to bleed through the curtains when you wake up, warm and heavy between two bodies. Daniel is plastered to your chest like a koala, one leg thrown over your waist and his hand gripping your shirt as if you might disappear if he lets go. His hair is a soft mess against your chin, smelling faintly of whatever sweet shampoo he used last night.

Behind you, Matthew is pressed to your back. His breathing is slow, steady, almost perfectly in sync with yours. His arm curves around your torso, palm resting right over your stomach — warm, protective. But what gives him away as awake is the subtle movement of his thumb drawing lazy circles on your skin.

You shift a little, your muscles stretching. Daniel immediately groans. “Don’t… move…” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep. “You’re literally… the best pillow…” He buries his face deeper into your chest.

Matthew’s voice is quiet, deeper in the mornings. “You’re choking her,” he murmurs to Daniel, though there’s no real annoyance in his tone. Daniel tightens his hold in response. “She loves it.”

Matthew exhales a small laugh — a rare, soft sound — then he leans in and presses a slow kiss to the back of your neck. “Morning,” he whispers.

You’re surrounded by warmth: Daniel’s clingy affection in front of you and Matthew’s steady presence behind you. The air smells like their mixed scents — light cologne, sleep-warm skin. You try to sit up, but Matthew tightens his arm, stopping you effortlessly.

“Stay,” he says, voice still rough. “Just a little longer.”

Daniel nuzzles your jawline, finally opening his eyes. “You’re not allowed to get up until both of us say so,” he declares, even though he’s clearly half-asleep.