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Dan can tell by the light streaming in that it’s early. Too early considering how late they stayed up last night. The light is golden and Noah’s plants make this room feel unbearably cozy and Noah is warm in his arms, his back pressed into Dan’s chest. Noah’s shoulder is right there and Dan starts to kiss a sleepy trail across the pale expanse, up the crook of his neck until Noah’s waking up and wiggling further back into Dan’s arms.
“Mornin’,” Noah whispers, lacing his fingers through the hand Dan’s resting on his hip. “It’s early.”
“Sorry.” Dan knows he doesn't sound sorry at all.
Noah presses back into him, his ass fitting perfectly into the curve of Dan’s hips. Dan woke up hard, which is surprising considering that last night Noah rode him slow and sweet until he couldn't breathe, but not at all surprising considering they’ve hardly had a minute alone together in two weeks. They wrapped all the set shots for season five late last night and Dan came straight to Noah’s for an entire uninterrupted weekend together.
“I’m not sorry.” Noah rolls over in Dan’s arms and kisses him. Dan wants to protest that he hasn’t brushed his teeth yet but it feels too good, too nice, Noah’s mouth warm and lazy against his. Noah kisses his way down Dan’s jaw, featherlight kisses until he’s nuzzling at the spot right below Dan’s ear. Noah brushes his nose, then his lips, then his tongue against it, repeating the pattern until Dan thinks he might explode with want.
Noah pulls back, looking smug, and drops a kiss on Dan’s nose. He reaches over and grabs the lube, squeezing an overly generous amount into his palm. Noah knows that Dan loves when things are almost too slick, when he has to work a little harder to get the friction he needs.
Noah wraps his hand around Dan’s cock and Dan makes a noise somewhere between a moan and gasp, and Noah’s eyes crinkle around the edges, knowingly. “Good?”
Dan nods. “So good.” He fucks into Noah’s hand as if to prove his point. Noah strokes him, slow, his grip relaxed, not quite giving Dan what he needs yet, but still delicious. Dan vows to sleep over more often, he wants to wake up like this all the time.
“Can you–” Noah starts, twisting his wrist just so.
“Yeah, anything, yes.” Dan babbles in an agreement.
Noah rolls over, so Dan’s spooning him again, and looks over his shoulder. “Fuck me? I’m still so open from last night.”
“I—yeah. We can do that.” Dan kisses Noah’s shoulder. Dan reaches between them, rubs his cock over Noah’s hole, lining them up, and then presses in. Dan is so wet and Noah was right, he is still so open. Dan slides right into Noah, faster than he means to and it feels amazing, being inside Noah, having Noah hot around him.
Noah shudders in his arms. “That’s good, you feel so good. Fuck me. Dan—please.”
Dan rolls his hips and slips his hands up Noah’s chest. He rests his hand over Noah’s heart for a second, holding himself still, and it’s just them, in the early morning light, in bed, in love. The moment stretches then breaks, neither of them able to hold back—Noah pushing back, rocking his hips, Dan thrusting to meet him.
They find an easy rhythm, unhurried, closely moving together. Dan wants to live in the moment forever, arm wrapped tight around Noah, pressing kisses everywhere he can reach. Dan tucks his knees tighter behind Noah’s and the intimacy of the length of their bodies against each other makes each tiny movement feel seismic, a slow moving wave of pleasure that feels right.
Dan skims his fingers over Noah’s nipple, until Noah’s breathing hard, and then Dan pinches it gently as he rocks his hips into Noah again and again and again. Noah wraps a hand around his cock, stroking himself. “I’m—please, don’t stop.”
Dan hooks his chin over Noah’s shoulder so he can watch. Dan loves watching Noah’s hands and watching Noah’s hands on his cock is even better, and watching Noah jerk himself off while Dan is inside of him is the best. It all overtakes Dan suddenly, the sensations and want, Noah warm against him and hot around him, and he’s coming, crying out Noah’s name. Dan’s trembling still, watching Noah’s stroke himself faster, until he’s coming too.
“I love you,” Dan whispers into Noah's shoulder, punctuating each word with a kiss to the smooth skin there.
“Love you, too,” Noah murmurs back, easy as anything, the words still making Dan feel like nothing else matters.
Dan slides out carefully and Noah hands him a t-shirt that was discarded on the other half of the bed last night to clean them up. “Just use this—don’t get up.”
Dan does, as best as he can, and then wraps himself around Noah again, sleepy and satisfied. Noah pulls the blankets back up over them, and wiggles in closer to Dan, sighing happily. Dan closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep again.
Dan wakes up again when Noah shifts in his arms, the light not so golden anymore, just a soft white glow behind the blinds, illuminating the leaves on the plants closest to them, making Noah’s shoulder glimmer. Dan kisses it, automatically, his lips drawn to Noah’s soft skin.
“Pancakes?” Noah murmurs.
“Mm, please.”
Noah rolls over in his arms, kissing him softly. “Shower first? We’re kind of a mess.”
“We are,” Dan laughs.
They shower, lazily soaping each other up, trading warm, wet kisses. After, Noah hands him a clean t-shirt and sweatpants. “You should keep some stuff here.” They both slide on sweatpants, different shades of gray, like they belong next to each other on a paint swatch. Dan spent most of his life feeling like one of those weird big single swatches and it's been a revelation to realize he might be part of a pair.
“I like wearing your shirts.” Dan admits, pulling it over his head. Noah’s shirts are soft and worn and hang a little loose on his shoulders and smell clean in a very Noah way.
“I like you in my pants.” Noah teases, then kisses him, lingering and soft, a reminder of earlier and a promise for later. “Now, let's go make pancakes, I’m hungry.”
They head downstairs, Noah tapping out a few notes on the piano on his way to the kitchen. Noah gets their coffee going and Dan starts pulling out the mixing bowls and dry ingredients for him. It’s a well-worn dance, Dan starts melting the butter for the wet ingredients while Noah measures the dry ingredients. Noah’s in charge of combining the two and the cooking—he insists his pancakes are flufflier, so Dan fixes them each a mug of coffee. He sets the table and gets out the frankly ridiculous jug of maple syrup Noah keeps around.
“You know, I know you’re half-Canadian? You’ve got nothing to prove.” Dan teases like he always does—Noah’s dual citizenship is a long running joke between them.
“We’re having a nice morning. Just set the table.” Noah dismisses the teasing like always, while looking so unbearably fond. Dan walks over to the stove and drapes himself on Noah, hooking his chin over Noah’s shoulder and watching tiny bubbles start to erupt on each pancake.
Noah wiggles him off. “Time to flip. Set the table.”
“Ugh, fine.” Dan huffs dramatically, but can’t help but kiss Noah’s cheek then shoulder before walking away.
Dan sets the table and sits, taking a sip of his coffee, which always tastes better here, in Noah’s t-shirt, in Noah’s kitchen, than anywhere else. Dan wishes he hadn’t left his phone upstairs so he could take a picture; Noah looks impossibly cute flipping pancakes and humming, his hair damp.
Noah dances over with a plate of pancakes, placing them on the table and dropping a lingering kiss to Dan’s upturned and waiting lips. “Breakfast is served, babe."