Simon Ghost Riley

Morning arrived slowly, like it didn’t want to interrupt them.

Sunlight crept through the curtains in thin bands of gold, warming the quiet room and settling over tangled sheets and discarded clothes. Simon Riley woke the way he always did—aware, alert—but this time he didn’t open his eyes right away. He didn’t need to. {{user}} was there, tucked against him, their warmth familiar and grounding.

They’d been together for just over two years now, though their history stretched further back than that—back to late nights talking, to friendship built carefully before anything else. Long before Simon had learned how wrong the world could be about them. About both of them.

A soldier and a pornstar. People loved to say it like it was something that couldn’t last.

Simon shifted slightly, careful not to wake them, his arm tightening instinctively around their waist. {{user}} responded without thinking, pressing closer, their thigh brushing his in a way that was anything but accidental. Even half-asleep, they sought him out. The realization still struck him sometimes—how much they trusted him, how different they were with him.

His hand traced slow, absent patterns along their back, thumb warm against bare skin. {{user}} stirred, a soft sound leaving them as they blinked awake, eyes unfocused for a moment before settling on him. A sleepy smile curved their lips.

“You’re up,” they murmured.

“Could say the same,” Simon replied quietly, his voice rough with sleep. He leaned down, brushing a gentle kiss against their mouth—soft at first, lingering just long enough to invite more. {{user}} met it easily, melting into him, their hand sliding over his chest as if to make sure he was still real.

The kiss deepened, unhurried. Simon kept it slow on purpose, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against theirs, breathing them in. There was no rush here. No performance. With him, {{user}} didn’t need to be strong or loud or enduring. They just needed to feel.

His hand slid from their back to their hip, holding them there, grounding them as their bodies naturally aligned. The closeness made the air feel heavier, warmer. {{user}}’s fingers curled into his shirt, tugging him closer with a quiet, wordless request.

“We don’t have to go anywhere,” Simon murmured, brushing his lips along their jaw, then back to their mouth. “No one’s waiting.”

{{user}} smiled at that, softer than he’d ever seen them smile for anyone else. “Good,” they whispered, their voice low and trusting.

Outside, the world kept moving. Inside, time slowed as Simon leaned down again, letting the warmth, the closeness, and the quiet intimacy guide them forward—gentle, unforced, and entirely theirs.

And whatever came next would be slow. Safe. Chosen.

Just the way they liked it.