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He rarely misses the bed at home anymore. He used to quite often. There’s no pressure sleeping alone, but it’s also colder, and there’s nobody to roll into after nightmares come along, and there’s no one for this—the way Josh kisses him first thing in the morning. Josh is stapled to his side, still a little clammy from last night’s sweat and no clothes, and Arnold keeps his eyes shut to see how long Josh will try to kiss him awake before moving on to louder efforts.
Then Josh bites his ear and Arnold swears under his breath, squirming under the thick blanket. He tries to pull the end over his head so it won’t be so bright when he opens his eyes, but Josh is faster and over him, bearing down for a sloppy kiss. Arnold enjoys the warmth and softness but still turns away too soon and mumbles, sleep-addled, “Morning breath.”
Josh makes a mock growling noise and goes at him again, so Arnold has to try to roll away and stop himself from laughing. It’s not so bright with the curtains drawn. When Arnold’s successfully wedged himself into the pillow, Josh rolled half atop him, Josh asks, “Should I go get up then?” He’ll probably brush his teeth and come right back. But Arnold shakes his head anyway on the off chance Josh won’t.
So Josh kisses the side of his face instead, his cheek, his chin—which can’t taste very good; he’s got a few day’s worth of stubble—and then Josh is worming into the hollow of his throat, and Arnold can’t help laughing. He knows he’s not supposed to do that in bed and always tries not to, and to his horror, Josh stops to ask, “Why’re you laughing?” There’s an edge in his face that says he might be joking, but Arnold’s already hidden himself in the pillow again and doesn’t dare check.
He mutters, muffled, “Tickles.” Josh snorts and bites his ear. Arnold turns to swat him away, but that just gets the momentum going, and they both roll back over, tangling the blanket, Arnold on his back and Josh ready to slink down onto him. As soon as their chests collide, Arnold’s breath is hitching. Then Josh’s cock slides along his, completely hard, and Arnold was a little stiff but now twitching excitedly—Josh grinds their bodies together and kisses Arnold’s neck. Josh says he doesn’t have much experience, but sometimes it does feels like that can’t be right...
Arnold says a quiet, “Lube?” before he can panic and snatch it back. It’s the only way to let things happen. Josh is usually good to him when he blurts things out.
Josh lifts up on hands and knees, raising the blanket like a tent and taking the blissful pressure off Arnold’s cock. Making a deliberate face with his big eyes, Josh says, “Wow, I was just gonna kiss a bit, but I mean, if you’re really desperate—”
Arnold’s face is immediately hot. “No, I’m not—”
“It’s okay, I understand, I’m really irresistible, and it’s been like a whole night since we had sex, I just didn’t realize you were so insatiable—”
“Josh—”
But Josh just makes a chuckling noise and bends down to kiss his forehead. The fear subsides a little with the realization that Josh is just teasing. He thinks. He’s still worried. He tries to smile. Josh reaches for the nightstand where a tube of lubrication and a pack of condoms aren’t even remotely hidden. Sometimes it’s so weird to be over at Josh’s place, where everything’s just there.
Arnold tries to relax while Josh fiddles the condom open, rolls it onto himself and opens the lube. This part is vaguely helpful—it gives Arnold a moment to breathe. Josh gets his fingers wet, and they disappear under the blanket, pressing right between Arnold’s thighs—it’s cold—Arnold sucks in a breath, and Josh looms down again to kiss the side of his mouth, not quite on his lips. Arnold can still taste the stale breath but doesn’t say anything. Josh rubs him between his legs—it feels weird, even though he’s sure it’s not supposed to—is it just him?—and when the first blunt fingertip pops inside, all he can do is wonder if Josh learned this from practice or the internet. He should’ve let Josh brush his teeth. Josh nuzzles into the side of his face and grinds against his stomach, dragging their shafts together, and that makes what’s happening to the rest of him less awkward.
Josh fingers him open slowly, carefully. He’s grateful he doesn’t have to do this. Isn’t sure he could—he’d get too impatient, go too fast, hurt himself, and of course he couldn’t say anything, because then Josh would think he was an idiot, and he’d just have to pretend it didn’t hurt when it obviously did, and then he’d be lying—
Arnold grabs onto the ends of the pillow when Josh slides out, lining his cock up instead. The rubbery head of the condom feels odd. But Josh squeezes Arnold’s cock lightly and the wave of dizziness that follows numbs the tension in both his body and mind. Josh slowly pushes forward, rocking in, and Arnold gives up the pillow in favour of Josh. He wraps his arms tight around Josh’s back and clings on for dear life, always grateful when Josh doesn’t seem to mind.
Josh kisses the side of his face and mumbles, “’Really like waking up to you.”
Without really thinking, Arnold says, “I like waking up to you too.” It’s not too big of a commitment. And it’s true. There’s just a slight burn, but it does feel good, and then he thinks Josh is all the way in, and Josh stops and waits like usual. Arnold takes in a breath and nuzzles into Josh’s shoulders, waiting for it to be okay.
A minute later, he breathes, “Yeah,” and Josh starts moving. It’s just little staccato thrusts at first, and then he hits that spot that makes Arnold whine; his fingers tighten in Josh’s skin as sheer pleasure snakes up his spine. Josh kisses his cheek again and starts to aim for it, grinding them into a steady rhythm while Arnold clutches tighter and tighter.
Sometimes he wants to say things like faster or slower—it’s the morning, they just woke up, maybe they should be quietly making love, but that sounds so stupid to say, and it’s easier to just let Josh do whatever, make Josh happy; Arnold wants to make Josh happy. But it’s not selfless; he likes it too, likes the fullness Josh gives him and the sudden bursts of pleasure mixed in with the usual, delicious slide in and out of his body. Josh covers his face in kisses and holds up with one hand, strokes Arnold with the other. The pace doesn’t really match the thrusts, but Arnold doesn’t care. He’s not sure what he likes more—Josh’s fingers around his cock or Josh’s cock inside him. He wishes he could do something back but doesn’t know what, and thinking about it just makes his skin tingle unpleasantly, when everything else is so pleasant; he’s burning up, but not in the usual, scary, the-world’s-fading-out way, but a white-hot, hazy but good way. He doesn’t care about morning breath anymore—he wants Josh to kiss him—so he grabs a chunk of Josh’s fluffy hair and turns Josh to him—they meet in the middle for a ragged kiss. The intimacy of it makes the off taste more than worth it.
Arnold comes first, which might be embarrassing, but he can’t tell like this—he makes a mess of Josh’s hand, his moan caught in Josh’s mouth. Josh keeps thrusting into him a little longer, then shudders and collapses atop him. He wonders absently when they can do this without a condom, but then the ramifications are a whole other set of worries he doesn’t want to get into, and he blurts through their panting, “Thanks.”
Josh, heavy and too hot, slides out of him to a wet noise and sudden feeling of emptiness. Arnold always feels weirdly too open after. Josh lifts up on one elbow to look at him and repeat, “Thanks?”
Arnold thinks he might be blushing harder than he was during sex. He has no idea why he said that. He feels like an idiot.
But Josh just chuckles like it’s cute and kisses him again. A huge swell of relief mixes into the post-orgasmic cloud. He feels spent and tired all over again, and Josh says, “I should go brush my teeth.”
Arnold should too. He should get water. Josh gives him a pointed look, and it takes him a second to realize that he’s still got an arm around Josh, and now he’s holding Josh tighter than ever.
He can’t seem to make his muscles loosen. Josh just grins and nestles down against his shoulder.
Then John hops up onto the bed out of nowhere, shaggy tail flicking for a moment or two before he’s collapsed in an adorable heap across both their midsections. If he was in the room the whole time, it strikes Arnold as kind of him to let them finish before joining.
Josh squirms and whines dramatically, “Oh no, we’re trapped forever.”
Arnold admits, “I can think of worse places to be trapped.”
“No... no, it won’t do. We’ll have to call for help.”
Arnold turns his head to Josh. “We don’t need help.”
“We should call Tom.”
Still naked and now reeking of sex, Arnold insists, “No—”
“Tom!”
“Shush!”
Josh is grinning wide as he weakly calls across the quiet room, “Tom, help!”
But Arnold quiets him with a kiss, rolling as much onto him as John will allow and laughing.