Morning

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A soft sigh slipped from the waking man's lips. He woke to the sun shining through the crack in his curtains, as usual.

However, the warmth curled up beside him was new.

Allen blinked and ran his hand down his face, trying to wake himself up. His other arm was pinned down to the bed by whomever lay beside him. Allen rolled his head to the side and sighed again.

Geez, how could he forget?

Oliver lay in the bed with him, nestled against his side and face pressed into Allen's shoulder. Allen chuckled softly and shook his head.

The Brit had come to his apartment, soaked from the rain and terrified out of his wits. Allen let him in, gave him a shirt, some boxers and his bomber jacket. He let Oliver babble and talk and(reluctantly) lean on his shoulder to cry and babble some more.

They ended up cuddling on Allen's bed and falling fast asleep.(Well, Oliver cuddled. Allen just laid there and let him.)

Allen was kinda proud of himself for not taking advantage, making a move, or fucking the brains out of Oliver like he would've anyone else.

Oliver shifted slightly, curling more, then settled and relaxed. Allen chuckled, then groaned as he realized his arm was asleep. "Whatever." He grumbled and shifted onto his side. Allen wrapped his free arm around Oliver, holding the much smaller Brit against himself. He sighed and closed his eyes once he was done moving around.

The Brit nuzzled Allen's shoulder and gripped the fabric of Allen's tank top. Allen rubbed up and down Oliver's back. "Weirdo." Allen murmured, his nose ending up buried in Oliver's strawberry blonde hair. Allen breathed in deeply and hummed. He wasn't a fan a sweets, but he loved how sugary and sweet Oliver smelled. Like strawberries and vanilla with a tinge of lemon.

Oliver squirmed for a moment, then hummed. "Allen?" He asked, voice soft.

"Yeah." The American stopped rubbing Oliver's back. "It's me."

"Good morning."

"Morning."

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