Morning Glory

Sunlight crept in slow through the blinds, striping the room in long golden slats that settled on Kieran’s bare chest. His head pounded gently with the familiar throb of too many drinks, but it was the warmth against his back that stirred him more than the headache. The bed was too soft to be his, the sheets smelled like laundry detergent and something muskier beneath, something undeniably male. Kieran blinked at the ceiling for a moment, trying to piece together the fragments of the night before. Shots, dancing, stumbling laughter. Elijah.

He turned over slowly, the motion causing the mattress to shift beneath him. Elijah lay on his side, facing him, still fast asleep with lashes casting delicate shadows on his cheekbones. His mouth was slack, hair tousled from sleep, and there was a peace to his features that Kieran had never seen before. Last night had been a blur, but this part was sharp, perfectly clear. They had kissed in the Uber. Laughed on the doorstep. Collapsed onto Elijah’s bed in a mess of limbs and slurred jokes, but they had stopped before anything happened. Kieran remembered that part vividly now, the way Elijah had pulled back with a soft murmur about not wanting to forget.

Now, morning had unspooled across them, slow and heavy with quiet heat. Kieran watched the steady rise and fall of Elijah’s chest, the way the sheet had slipped to his hips. His torso was bare, lean and inviting, dappled with morning light. The desire came creeping in like ivy, curling low in Kieran’s stomach, lazy and pulsing. He shifted again, and that was enough to make Elijah stir, eyes fluttering open with a faint sound caught in his throat.

“Hey,” Elijah said, his voice husky from sleep, barely more than a whisper.

Kieran’s mouth curled into a crooked smile. “Hey.”

Their eyes held. Neither of them looked away. Kieran felt the moment shift, a slow gravity pulling them closer without a single word. Elijah reached out, fingers brushing Kieran’s waist, and something electric surged between them. They leaned in at the same time, lips meeting in a kiss that was nothing like the ones from the night before. This one was slow, purposeful, drawn from somewhere deep.

Elijah rolled to hover above him, their bodies aligning with a practiced ease they had never actually practiced. Kieran’s hands slid up Elijah’s sides, warm skin beneath his palms, the firmness of muscle giving way to the soft curve of his back. They kissed again, mouths parting, tongues meeting with a hunger that bloomed rapidly from the embers of their shared sleep.

Clothes had not been much of a barrier to begin with, just underwear now, pulled away with careful fingers and soft sounds of approval. Elijah’s mouth explored Kieran’s neck, his collarbone, down his chest with slow, open-mouthed kisses that made Kieran’s breath catch. The morning light made everything visible, every curve and scar, every reaction painted plain across their skin.

When Elijah reached into the drawer beside the bed, his fingers brushed over familiar items until they found what he needed. He brought the condom and small bottle of lube to the mattress without hesitation, placing them beside Kieran with a glance that was both questioning and sure. Kieran’s heart thudded beneath his ribs, nerves and anticipation sparking together as he gave the smallest nod.

The intimacy of that moment was quiet, grounded in trust rather than urgency. Elijah leaned in again, kissing him slow and deep, one hand cradling the side of Kieran’s face. His fingers stroked gently along Kieran’s cheek before trailing down his chest again, learning the shape of him with open palms and soft murmurs of approval that made Kieran arch into his touch.

Their legs tangled as they moved together, Elijah settling between his thighs. Kieran felt exposed beneath him, not just physically but emotionally, as if every layer had been peeled away under the morning light. There was nothing rushed in Elijah’s movements, only reverence and heat. He rolled the condom on with slow hands, then prepared Kieran with care, pausing at every intake of breath, every shift in tension.

Kieran bit his lip, head tilted back against the pillow, hands gripping Elijah’s arms as slick fingers moved inside him. It had been a long time since someone had taken their time like this. Elijah kissed him again, deep and reassuring, and when he finally pressed forward, Kieran exhaled a slow breath that turned into a moan.

The stretch was real and grounding, Elijah filling him with patient strokes that made the world fall away. Every movement was careful at first, then gradually deeper, their bodies finding rhythm, a rising tide of sensation that had Kieran clinging tighter, legs wrapped around Elijah’s waist.

They fit together so easily, it felt like inevitability more than coincidence. Elijah whispered his name between thrusts, each one drawn-out and deliberate, tying them both to the moment. Kieran met him every time, hands roaming his back, sliding over slick skin, holding him close.

Their lips met over and over, interrupted by gasps and soft curses. It was all sensation and feeling, the slow burn of desire swelling into something all-encompassing. Elijah’s hand found Kieran’s dick and started stroking him in tandem with the rhythm of his hips. The dual pleasure built fast, cresting like a wave threatening to break.

Kieran came with a cry muffled into Elijah’s shoulder, body tensing and shivering as pleasure tore through him in waves. Elijah followed moments later, moaning low in his throat as he buried himself one last time, trembling as he spilled into the condom.

They stayed there, bodies locked, breath ragged in the silence that followed. Elijah eventually collapsed beside him, pressing a kiss to Kieran’s damp temple. Kieran turned his face into the pillow, a slow smile spreading across his lips.

Neither spoke for a while. There was no need. Their bodies had said everything.

When Elijah finally reached for a towel and disposed of the condom, he returned to the bed and pulled Kieran close. The scent of sex lingered in the air, but so did something else, something softer.

Kieran rested his head on Elijah’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Morning wrapped around them like a promise. Whatever had started last night had not burned out with the alcohol or the dawn. It had only just begun.

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