Fic: Burrow
Title: Burrow
Characters: Claude/Peter
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Schmoopiness
Word Count: 336
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Not mine, blah blah.
Summary: Sleepy early morning cuddling. I...that's it, really.
A/N: I think the header is longer than the fic itself. *laughs* It just didn't want to go anywhere else.
“Pete.”
No response. He presses a kiss to the back of the young man’s neck before he can think better of it.
“Peter,” he tries again, and is met with a groan as Peter squirms away from him and deeper into the pile of pillows and blankets.
“Come on, mate, it’s-“
“Dark out. Leave me ‘lone.”
“You’ve got to get up sometime, Pete.”
“Sometime, okay…”
“Y’know, the longer you stay in bed-“
“Claude,” in between a growl and a whine as Peter turns to glare at him with eyes that are only half-open. “I’m tired.”
“Right, right, all right,” he says, and rolls onto his back. Stares at the ceiling for a moment, and then shrugs. Might as well get a start on the day, even if Peter won’t.
But the minute he tries to, to sit up, to ease out from under the covers, Peter groans again.
What now? He’s about to snap, but when he glances back and catches the look Peter’s giving him, sees how he’s gone from sleepily loose and soft to tense and alert, he can’t.
“You all right?“
“Just…” Peter closes his eyes for a moment and seems to swallow a yawn. “Could you…stay a little…longer? I… I’ll make it up to you.”
“Will you, then?” he says, lying back down, and Peter nuzzles against the pillow he’s resting on.
“Mm-hm,” the young man mumbles, eyes already fluttering shut again, body already relaxed. Even more so when Claude wraps an arm around his waist and drags him close.
“How?”
Peter snuggles against his side, curls an arm over Claude’s chest, and yawns again.
“Breakfast. I’ll make you…something…um. Whatever you want.”
“I’m holdin’ you to that, mate,” he says, and Peter gives a drowsy chuckle, curves closer still, and drops a kiss to Claude’s shoulder.
“Sounds good…holding me…at least…that sounds…”
“All right, Peter,” he murmurs, and takes in the sweet, light scent of his hair, the softness of it against his lips.
“Mm,” Peter sighs, happily, and Claude doesn’t mind hearing it.
*
Characters: Claude/Peter
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Schmoopiness
Word Count: 336
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Not mine, blah blah.
Summary: Sleepy early morning cuddling. I...that's it, really.
A/N: I think the header is longer than the fic itself. *laughs* It just didn't want to go anywhere else.
“Pete.”
No response. He presses a kiss to the back of the young man’s neck before he can think better of it.
“Peter,” he tries again, and is met with a groan as Peter squirms away from him and deeper into the pile of pillows and blankets.
“Come on, mate, it’s-“
“Dark out. Leave me ‘lone.”
“You’ve got to get up sometime, Pete.”
“Sometime, okay…”
“Y’know, the longer you stay in bed-“
“Claude,” in between a growl and a whine as Peter turns to glare at him with eyes that are only half-open. “I’m tired.”
“Right, right, all right,” he says, and rolls onto his back. Stares at the ceiling for a moment, and then shrugs. Might as well get a start on the day, even if Peter won’t.
But the minute he tries to, to sit up, to ease out from under the covers, Peter groans again.
What now? He’s about to snap, but when he glances back and catches the look Peter’s giving him, sees how he’s gone from sleepily loose and soft to tense and alert, he can’t.
“You all right?“
“Just…” Peter closes his eyes for a moment and seems to swallow a yawn. “Could you…stay a little…longer? I… I’ll make it up to you.”
“Will you, then?” he says, lying back down, and Peter nuzzles against the pillow he’s resting on.
“Mm-hm,” the young man mumbles, eyes already fluttering shut again, body already relaxed. Even more so when Claude wraps an arm around his waist and drags him close.
“How?”
Peter snuggles against his side, curls an arm over Claude’s chest, and yawns again.
“Breakfast. I’ll make you…something…um. Whatever you want.”
“I’m holdin’ you to that, mate,” he says, and Peter gives a drowsy chuckle, curves closer still, and drops a kiss to Claude’s shoulder.
“Sounds good…holding me…at least…that sounds…”
“All right, Peter,” he murmurs, and takes in the sweet, light scent of his hair, the softness of it against his lips.
“Mm,” Peter sighs, happily, and Claude doesn’t mind hearing it.
*