fourteen: the skin

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For Matt, waking up next to Quinn was like waking up from one dream into an even better one.

Quinn was curled up on his side, one hand folded up near his pointed chin, ashen hair falling across his closed eyes. Thin lips were slightly parted, soft breathing regular.

His eyeliner had smeared a little during the night, darkening his deep eyesockets. There were pale marks all across the brown pillowcase, and Matt could see the pores beside Quinn's nose, which he had never noticed before, and a small pink pimple on his chin, almost precisely between his silver snakebites. The right piercing was healed cleanly, but the skin around the left was still a little puffy and raw, probably because Matt had kept accidentally biting it the night before.

Seeing Quinn's flaws only made him more perfect to Matt.

Wiggling in closer, Matt wrapped an arm around Quinn's narrow shoulders. Quinn grumbled a little, sleepily.

"Hey, Quinn," Matt whispered.

There was no response.

Matt pressed his nose right up against Quinn's. "Hey, Quinn."

Quinn made another rough sound in his throat.

"I like you," Matt told him quietly.

"I like you, too, Matteo," Quinn mumbled, not opening his eyes. "But I'd like you more if you'd just let me sleep a little longer."

Matt huffed in a laugh.

Quinn slept for a lot longer. Matt was wide awake. After lying there quietly for long minutes he began to grow impatient, so he crept out of bed and turned on his TV, the volume low. Then he snuggled back under the covers, close to Quinn's body heat, and tried to keep his laughter quiet.

After a while, Quinn pressed his face into the pillow and groaned. "I'm not sure you watching Invader Zim qualifies as letting me sleep," he muttered, voice muffled.

"Sorry, dude," Matt said sheepishly. "I thought it'd be worse if I was watching a skate video."

"Worse?" Quinn echoed, in a lazy Zim impression. "Or better?"

Matt snorted a laugh, and he could see the corner of Quinn's lips twitch up against the pillow. "Are you hungry? I was gonna make waffles for breakfast."

"Waffles?" Quinn laughed softly. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he grinned at Matt, blinking eyes still puffy with sleep. "Jeez, you really went all out for me, didn't you?"

Sheepishly, Matt tugged at his shaggy hair. "Is it weird?"

"No, it's cute," Quinn teased.

"Shut up, Quinn. I'm not cute." Matt grinned dopily.

"I'd love some waffles," Quinn said thoughtfully. "But I've got a bit of a situation to take care of, first." He adjusted the sheets so Matt could see his morning wood pressing against the front of his pyjama pants. Smirking, Quinn looked up at Matt through his eyelashes suggestively.

Matt sucked in a laugh, the sight of Quinn's arousal pooling heat in his own belly. "Um, I can help you with that, if you want."

"Dude," Quinn snickered, pushing the sheets the rest of the way off and sitting up fully, a wide, slow smile on his lips. "Obviously I want."

It was different to kiss with hot sunlight streaming through the curtains, with tousled hair and sleepy hands and no darkness to soften the rough edges. The gleam of daylight lit threads of indigo in Quinn's pale blue eyes, and Matt was so distracted by the sight that he bumped their noses together, hard.

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