Elijah always wakes up instantly alert; a little talent he has. From complete blackness to a darkened room, the shades pulled close, daylight peeking through the cracks. It's very warm, very soft--Elijah snuggles in, brushing up against flesh, a tickle of hair, a light musky scent. Oh yes. Dom's room. Dom's limbs entwined with his, their warmth shared under the soft duvet.
Saturday today; no plans, no obligations, just sweet time to do anything he pleases, hopefully with this young man. Maybe hit a music store, maybe a movie--maybe some naughtiness in said movie, heh. Or walk--he likes this town; plenty Elijah hasn't seen yet. See what Dom's favorite places are--that'd be fun.
For a long moment, Elijah doesn't move, not wanting to disturb Dom who's still fast asleep, his mouth slightly open, dark lashes fluttering against his ruddy cheeks. Ever so lightly he runs the tip of his finger over Dom's brow, feeling the feather-light touch of his hair, how the whole face is relaxed now, in repose. Like him, Elijah doubts Dom is ever in repose much when he's awake. Except maybe in yoga--that's one thing he's found that can calm the nervous energy, help him find a stable center. Or photography. Sometimes, getting that perfect shot, he's completely at peace.
Leaning forward just a bit, Elijah kisses Dom lightly on the lips. He hopes Dom will sleep a bit longer, but Elijah kind of has to take care of a couple needs.
"Be right back," he whispers, and very slowly and carefully pulls away disentangling them. Dom's still sleeping when Elijah heads for the bathroom, wondering if Dom here will mind if he uses his toothbrush . . .