Re: Dietre A./Hugh C.: On the patio
Dietre was usually a very light sleeper, with stretches where he did not sleep at all. This time, however, tucked against Hugh’s body, he slept like the dead. There was no tossing or turning, no bad dreams, no dreams at all. A deep, soul repairing sleep. Not even the breaking of the dawn interrupted it. Only an internal clock, not used to so much rest, began to tick and slowly brought him closer to the surface where a dull hangover headache waited for him.
“Er…” Hugh’s movements brought a sleepy, not-ready-to-get-up sound from Dietre’s throat and he curled up a little more on himself, covering his face with his hands. He was not awake enough to know the kiss for what it was. He opened an eye when the warmth of Hugh’s body left the bed entirely, squinting through his fingers against the morning sunlight filling the room to watch the man re-tie his robe.
One of Dietre’s hands left his face to give Hugh a tiny wave. It was unclear whether it was a wave hello or a wave goodbye, though the way he then pulled the covers over himself and rolled onto his stomach to bury his face against his pillow implied it was the latter. He was still half asleep, and it was all too easy to doze right off again. At least for a little while longer.
It was maybe a half hour before Dietre emerged from the bedroom, eyes heavy lidded and bleary, his hair mussed despite an attempt to tame it by combing through it with his fingers. It was easy enough to find Hugh, he only had to follow the smells of coffee and breakfast cooking. Of course, there was a chance it was Zee, but Dietre’s doubted it.
“Good morning.” A smile brightened his face the moment he saw Hugh. “Did you sleep alright?” He shuffled closer to see what his friend was cooking. Having shared a bed lessened some of his shyness over personal space.