LGBT Short Stories and One Shots

Good Morning

CW: explicit sex that can be skipped
Ship: Dante/Ewan
Word count: 5538

Ewan wasn't sure what he expected when he walked out of his boss' (boyfriend's?) bedroom, but a mussed looking Dante sure wasn't it. His boss-friend had his salt and pepper hair sticking up in every direction. He had his glasses at the very edge of his nose, and charcoal smudge on his cheek, probably from the pages he was working on. His tongue was peeking out between his lips in concentration, as he focused on his sketch.

"'Morning," Ewan greeted, realizing he probably looked just as bad as, or worse than, Dante. He quickly looked down at himself, and grimaced at the too-big shirt, and completely visible hickies.

"Good morning," Dante greeted, not looking away from his work. "Coffee's made. On the stove."

Ewan walked over to Dante's stove, and poured himself a cup of black coffee and two sugars, before leaning against the opposite side of the counter.

"How'd you sleep?" Dante asked, pushing his glasses up, smudging more charcoal on his face.

"Great," Ewan smirked, licking his thumb and wiping the charcoal off of his boyfriend's- friend's- nose. Dante crossed his eyes as he saw the finger approaching, causing Ewan to chuckle as he wiped it away.

"Thanks," Dante smiled, looking at Ewan for the first time that morning. "Looks like someone did a number on ya'." He said, referring to his neck.

"Yeah, not sure who would have done that," Ewan sassed, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of his coffee.

"I wouldn't mind doing it again," Dante mumbled, his voice dropping a few pitches. His eyes haven't wavered from Ewan since he first made eye contact.

"What is this?" Ewan blurted, pointing between the two of them.

"Um..." Dante started, furrowing his eyebrows.

"This is more than fun," Ewan sighed, placing his mug on the counter. "Like, I'm having fun, and it's fine to stop there, but you-"

"I know," Dante sighed, burying his head in his hands, most definitely smudging charcoal on his face again.

Ewan sighed, and grabbed a rag next to the sink and got it slightly wet. He trekked to the same side of the counter that Dante was on, and pried his hands away.

"It's fine if you don't know right now," Ewan remarked, wiping his hands first. "But I'd like to know. I just don't know if I'm in a place in my life to be messing around, though." Ewan continued to wipe away the charcoal.

"Can I ask a question?" Dante asked, leaning into the damp wipe. Ewan gave him a quizzical look. "How old are you?"

"23," Ewan answered, taking the cloth and placing it on the counter.

"Oh thank God," Dante mumbled, "I thought I was robbing the cradle a lot more than I am."

"Wait, how old did you think I was?" Ewan asked, allowing a small chuckle to bubble out.

"19," Dante said, smiling bashfully.

"Dante!" Ewan laughed, playfully swatting at his shoulder. "If you were robbing the cradle that hard, I wouldn't have continued on."

"Wow, thanks," Dante mumbled, rolling his eyes. Ewan instinctually reached up to brush Dante's hair away, and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Sorry," he apologized, pulling away as if Dante just burnt him. "I don't want to-"

"Let's go back to bed," Dante sighed, licking his lips.