WHO: Gretchen Watkins, Verity Weasley & Trevor Scabior WHAT: Gretch and Verity bump into each other in the morning WHERE:Gretch and Trevor's house WHEN: the morning after this WARNING/RATING/STATUS: Post sexing imagery and bacon contained within, no kids or jews allowed/PG13?/Ongoing
The smell of bacon wasn't one that woke Gretchen often. Trevor wasn't inclined to cook and the people they brought home weren't invited to stay long enough to make a fry up. Food was left to Gretchen, or the multitude of often used takeaway menus that were littered about their kitchen. The delicious bacon-y scent roused Gretch from a deep sleep and she let out a little noise, smiling slightly at the feel of Trevor's arms around her. She moved closer to him, making herself comfortable against his lanky form, taking stock of herself for a moment. She was sore and achy, but a good sore, the kind that came after a night very well spent.
Not that she'd thought it was Trevor down in the kitchen, cooking, but the fact that he was here confused her. "Trev," she croaked, her throat raspy from overuse the previous night. He grunted and tightened his hold on her but made no other indication that he'd heard her, still dead asleep.
If it wasn't Trevor down in the kitchen, who the hell was it? Reluctantly slipping out of Trev's arms and rolling her eyes as he twisted over and cocooned himself further under the blankets, she searched briefly for clothes before snagging a shirt of his from where it had been tossed over the footboard at some point last night. Buttoning it up, she managed to locate her underwear (dangling on the edge of the mirror above the dresser) and two different coloured socks.
It wasn't until she was halfway down the stairs that she remembered that Trevor's nosy cousin had spent the night and she relaxed, slipping silently into the kitchen and watching Verity for a few moments before the other woman noticed she was there.