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“Come on, up and at ‘em!”
There was a slap to his shoulder. Trent groaned.
It wasn’t that he’d been having a lovely dream - between overindulging caffeine and the stress of taking care of a precocious 5 year old, no dreams at all were quite honestly the best case scenario at this point in life - but he had been dozing pleasantly, sleepy and warm and lying next to a man he loved.
Until that man got up at half four in the bloody morning.
“The sun is a-rising, the birds are chirping their little ditty, the sky is pink as blush, it’s time to get up and enjoy the beauty the world offers us, huh?”
Trent huffed. It wasn’t every day that Ted got like this, but when he was particularly stressed he tended to veer towards mania. Probably something to do with the copious amounts of sugary drinks and metric tonne of buttery biscuits he imbibed to drown his sorrows. At least it was slightly better than the binge-drinking. Slightly.
Ted pushed at his shoulder again.
“Piss off,” Trent mumbled, already stretching his limbs. Ted was an unstoppable force on these mornings, and Trent, god help him, loved him for it. It was just that Trent didn’t necessarily have the energy to be his immovable object until at least his second cup of Earl Grey.
Trent had yet to open his eyes. He heard a light thumping noise.
“Oh how that hurts. The love of my life, Trent Crimm the not-so-independent, spurning me so early into what was supposed to be a wonderful day spent together admiring this doggone beautiful world we were so lucky to be born into. Woe is me,” Ted whined dramatically, dropping his entire weight unceremoniously onto the back of Trent’s thighs.
Trent rolled his eyes, finally opening them to the view of a thready dawn fighting through the clouds to burn shapes into their sheets. Craning his neck, he could see Ted was mostly dressed - missing the sweater, but fully done up in khakis and a light button-up with the sleeves pushed up past his elbows exposing the toned forearms Trent loved so much.
Trent smiled despite himself, pushing Ted ineffectually towards the other side of the bed. “Woe is most definitely not you, get up.”
Ted hummed, rolling over so he was only holding down Trent’s calves, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know, my life seems pretty woeful right now. Here I am, stuck inside on such a gorgeous day, when I could be sitting in the grass, drinking coffee with my darling as he drinks that awful leaf water, sitting under a blanket and watching the city come to life.”
Trent rubbed at his eyes. “I thought I was safe from four am wake-up calls when my parents picked Harriet up for the weekend, but apparently not,” he responded dryly.
“Oh, hush,” Ted finally got back up, managing to none-so-subtly grope Trent’s arse on the way, “You love these mornings and you know it. Not even that stony reporter face can fool me anymore, I’m immune.”
“For which I bemoan my every waking day,” Trent sighed. The pillow was still so soft and warm, beckoning him back to sleep.
Ted huffed a laugh, poking Trent in the cheek. “Come on, now. If you’re awake enough to use your big Shakespearian words then you’re awake enough to shuffle to the backyard. Up you get, sourpuss.”
Trent pushed himself up on his elbows, mostly turning around to face his partner. “It still vexes me as to why you hold on to Americanisms like that. A yard is a unit of measurement, not a place in the home.”
“Oh it ‘vexes’ you, huh?” Ted smirked mischievously. “Them dictionary words are only proving my point. You’re awake already, might as well join me in watching the sunrise. Your tea’s already hot and ready for you in the kitchen.”
Trent pushed up until he was fully sitting. The promise of caffeine was enough to propel his body into a vaguely human shape again, as opposed to the puddle it was prone to at, again, half four in the fucking morning. “Well why didn’t you start with that?”
Ted shrugged, guileless and faux-innocent. “This way’s more fun.”
“You’re incorrigible,” Trent sighed.
“And yet, you love me.” Ted planted a quick kiss on Trent’s nose. “Let’s get at it, then. Now that I’ve bullied the most cutthroat former journalist this side of the pond into getting his butt into action, I’m sure the sun’ll be even easier.”
And with that, Ted bounded out of the room, presumably to grab blankets and mugs of caffeinated drinks and anything else he felt he needed for a proper sunrise.
Trent let himself sit, for just a moment, and reflect on that fact that yes, this was his life now. He had a daughter that was growing into a fine young woman, a house filled with chintz and memorabilia, a handful of books to his name, and a partner - who would, if Ted got his way, become his husband sooner rather than later - who was so full of optimism and energy and endless love for everyone in the world, but especially Trent. It was the life he never thought he would get, in his youth, when he stared a little too long at the other boys. The life he knew was gone forever when he cried to himself the eve of his wedding, full of equal parts fear, anxiety, and love for his bride-to-be. The life he could only hope for in small moments after he truly came out to his wife, the second time, and agreed as much as they loved each other Trent deserved a chance to find a partner who would love him and be loved the way he needed.
A life that, for all the faults, was exactly what he needed. Half four wake up calls and all, damn him.
“I don’t hear feet on the floor, mister!”
Trent laughed despite himself, dropping his bare feet to the floor a touch too loudly in protest. “Ridiculous man.”
And yet, despite it all, he was Trent’s ridiculous man. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.