Beneath the Sheets 2: Nico's POV

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A/N: Surprise! Almost 17000 words later, here's a new bonus chapter for all of you lovely, lovely people. Just wanted to write something to hopefully help you guys get through this difficult time. Hoping everyone is staying safe and healthy ❤️

'The' Day - Part I

"Nico."

Fingers prodded my bare back, warm and familiar, and far too annoying for 8 o'clock in the morning, or whatever unholy time it was right now. I grumbled a response, rolling my shoulder to get the warm fingers off my back. They paused, and there was a huff behind me, before the fingers turned into a hand that began shaking me against the bedsheets.

"Nico, wake up," the voice said, softening as it tried to coax me out from the very, very comforting and tempting arms of sleep. 

"No, 's too early," I whined, burrowing my head under my pillow.

"It's 9, Nico," the voice said flatly, losing its warm, honey-ish tinge. Impatient. Unamused. Annoyed.

"Exactly," I retorted, my own annoyance beginning to seep into my tone as sleep began to wander away from me despite my attempts to chase after it. The hands began pinching at the sides of my torso, unrelenting. Fuck.

"Nico," the voice said again, a larger weight now pressing against my back. "Your restaurant's grand opening is today, you know? You have to get up." The pillow was soon ripped away from my head, and I pried my eyes open reluctantly to face my very annoyingly cute boyfriend, whose face was scrunched up with exasperation.

"You're annoying as hell, you know that, right, Wes?" I grumbled, flopping over onto my back, shooting the man a tired glare. "I got like, what, 6 hours of sleep last night?"

"And whose fault was that?" Wes replied, crossing his arms over his chest as he raised an accusing brow. Rubbing my eyes, vision clearing of sleep, I looked over my boyfriend slowly, like I did every morning. He was wearing my T-shirt, which was a little too big on his shoulders and a little too long for his torso, the hem dropping just above the curve of his ass which was unfortunately covered by his briefs, which clung to his thighs. His eyes were a little tired, but far more alert than what I could imagine mine to be, and curly brown hair flew around this way and that, looking like a tornado had run through it the night before.

Or my fingers.

Definitely my fingers.

When I gripped his hair when I pounded into him in the early hours of the morning last night, his - my - shirt riding up his freckled back as he desperately dug his fingers into the headboard, moaning.

The corner of my lips tugged upwards as I reached towards the endearing mess atop Wes's head, carding my fingers through the winding locks. I could see Wes's annoyance begin to slip as my hand trailed from his hair down to his cheek, brushing across the light pink speckled there, warm under my touch.

"Mornin', babe," I murmured, Wes rolling his eyes as he grabbed my hand from his face. He flopped down beside me with his head on my shoulder, slinging a leg over mine and pulling my arm around him before snuggling into my side. I snorted a little at his pushiness, but nonetheless indulged him, pulling him closer and pressing a kiss to his messy hair.

"You have work to do," Wes reminded me, his voice soft. 

"I know."

"We should get up."

"I know."

"You're an idiot."

"That, I do not know," I said, chuckling as Wes slapped my chest lightly, before nestling himself even closer, completely giving up on getting either of us out of bed. 

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