Imagine #2: ‘Right Side of the Right Bed’
(The Morning After (Your First Time))
He woke up before you, snuffling quietly into the pillow before flipping over on his back, hands coming up to clumsily paw at his sleepy eyes. He stretched his legs a bit, carefully as to not wake you, and yawned quietly.
That’s when he really remembered you were there, and the events from last night came rushing back to him, the breathy moans and keening whines and whispers of you coming apart beneath him painted on the backs of his eyelids.
A sleep-drunk smile spread across his lips, all too smug with himself as he turned to you, curled up in the blankets, leaving him absolutely none (not that he minded much) to cover himself with, clad only in his boxers and old shorts, his shirt having found its way on you.
He rolled over on his side again, smirking at the raw ache of scratches across his back, and the little marks he had pressed into your skin the night before.
Gentle fingertips came up to trace around one, the color blossoming out in the curve of your neck, his touch light and full of admiration.
He ran the backs of his knuckles gently down the marks, places of soft skin that he had taken so good care of the night before, the motion causing you to stir, flipping over to face him in your sleep.
He watched you for a moment, your face peaceful and at ease, safe and relaxed beside him, warmth budding in his chest over how fragile you looked.
His glassy, sleepy eyes trailed over your figure, down the easy slope of your shoulder where the blanket had slipped from around you, his breath catching as he tucked the corner of it back in place.
For someone with such poetic songs, he really wasn’t much of a talker in the morning, and he liked it better this way, just admiring you and forgetting about the world for a few moments.
He didn’t have to fumble over words, coming out in a barely coherent rasp, he could speak through his touch, a silent eloquence he had about him.
He pulled you to his chest, nearly automatically, his hand cupping the back of your head, holding it to rest against his collarbone, feeling your soft breaths fan out over the slope of it.
He felt you move closer, your legs slung over his, ‘mmph’ing into the softness of his bare chest as he held you protectively.
He looked at you with admiration reflecting in his eyes, ducking his head to kiss your forehead and move his other hand down your back.
You woke up at this kind gesture, nudging your nose up into the dip at the base of his neck, a contented sigh rolling off of your lips as he thumbed at the space between your shoulder blades, palm splayed out.
“Hi,” he said breathily, rasp apparent as you moved closer towards him.
He kissed the top of your head again, rousing you from sleep completely, but gently. He murmured nonsense at you as you scooted back a bit to blink up at him, a sleepy smile reflected off of his features onto yours.
You lay with him like that for quite a while, just enjoying each other’s warmth and quiet company, when your stomach began to grumble and he laughed at you.
“You okay?” He teased, eyes closed, holding you but napping slightly, dozing off, “A bit hungry I hear?”
You laughed, untangling yourself from him and moving backwards, to his whine of protest, ready to go get breakfast (though he’d made it earlier but your both forgotten) and do absolutely nothing all day.
However, as soon as you slung your legs over the side of the bed, you felt a twinge run up your spine, wincing slightly and hoping it would go away, not wanting to give Ed the satisfaction for last night.
Drawing a deep breath, you pushed off of the bed with flat palms, to his knowing smirk, one eye cracked open as he watched you in nothing but panties and his too-big teeshirt.
As soon as you stood up, you regretted the decision, stumbling sideways and catching yourself with the corner of the night table, nearly knocking the lamp and clock off, the ache spreading around your lower half.
“Edddd…” You whined, a mix of emotions, and he was at your side in record time, pulling your back to his chest, his arms around your waist and trying, bless his heart, to suppress the smirk he was fighting to no avail.
That got cut short as you stumbled backwards again with a whimper, your legs not feeling trustworthy and your cheeks being flushed by Ed making fun of you.
“Sh, I’m sorry,” he said, when he saw you were actually in pain, and he helped you to lay back down, offering to go get whatever you needed. “What do you need love, I’ll get it for you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,”
You couldn’t help but smile at his apologies, asking modestly for a painkiller and some toast, which he brought back for both of you, completely burnt but still with good intentions.
He sat down beside you, with a quiet “What hurts, babe?” To which you flushed again and told him it was mainly your back, and he turned you gently towards him so he could rub at the sore muscles with inexperienced (at least in being a masseuse) hands, trying to knead out the pressure.
He finally stopped, his attempt at shiatsu being futile in the face of Advil, and you finished your toast in silence, laying back down as he joined you, collecting you up in his arms very carefully.
“Go ahead,” you said, the smile hidden because he was behind you but still audible in your voice.
“What?” He asked innocently, hand laying over your thigh.
“You know you’re proud of yourself, just go ahead and get it over with and say it,” you teased, folding your hand over his as he made goosebumps rise on your skin.
“Well, I am,” he said matter-of-factly, and you scoffed into your pillow, eyes slipping shut, “But it was your first time babe, you’re gonna be sore, it’s gonna hurt,”
You nodded, yawning, “mhm,” you agreed, “Was worth it though.”
He just wasn’t sure what to do with himself at that, dimple starting to play out, because he was beyond happy he could make your first time perfect.
You could feel his smile on the nape of your neck as he spoke, “I’d never ever want to hurt you though, yeah?” You nodded in understanding, feeling him press a close mouthed kiss to your shoulder.
“Well the next time it’ll be better,” he said, tapping his fingers in place on your leg.
“Oh so you’re already counting on more?” You said sarcastically, knowing there would be much more.
He made a happy humming sound against your neck, sending tingles over your skin. You could feel the heat from his undeniable blush as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, threading his fingers in your hair.
“I love you,” you said simply, meaning it. “It was perfect, you’re perfect.”
This elicited a sincere ‘I love you too’ from him, peppering kisses lightly along tender lovebites, “And there’s more where that came from.”
You slung your legs with his, entertaining them. “Love you,” you exchanged once more, feeling his arms tighten around you and your body go warm and pliant against his, a sleepy snore drifting from him.
And it was true—you wouldn’t mind waking up every morning with him.