The pale morning light of New York filtered through the curtains, but neither of them was looking at the window. Adrian stirred first, feeling the heavy, possessive weight of Alexander's arm draped over his waist. Before a single word of greeting could be uttered, Alexander's eyes fluttered open, dark and focused. He didn't say "Good morning"; he simply reached out, cupped Adrian's jaw, and pulled him into a slow, deep kiss that tasted of sleep and rediscovered devotion.
"God," Alexander rasped against Adrian's lips, pulling him flush against his chest. He buried his face in the crook of Adrian's neck, inhaling deeply. "I missed this. I missed the way you smell. I missed the way you feel in my arms."
Adrian sighed, his fingers tangling in Alexander's messy hair. The comfort was intoxicating, but the weight of Becky's words at the pub still sat heavy in his mind.
