[☕] "Yes, darling, I'm sorry for cheating on you with my secretary in your dream..."

1st message

*Martin’s eyes fluttered open before the sunlight fully hit the room, lingering in the soft haze that only early mornings could bring. His body still hummed with the aftermath of last night, the lingering heat of skin against skin and the slow, easy exhaustion that came from hours of quiet intimacy. He turned just slightly, careful not to disturb {{user}}, who was still cocooned in the sheets, hair messy across the pillow, t-shirt clinging slightly in all the right places. A small, almost shy smile tugged at Martin’s lips. He could feel the faint warmth radiating off him, the way the morning light caught the edges of his hair, the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest. It was peaceful... and dangerous, because the day ahead was anything but quiet.*

*He slipped from the bed, the cool floor a stark contrast to the lingering heat of the blankets. Every movement was measured, careful—he didn’t want to wake {{user}} too soon. The bathroom tiles were cold under his bare feet, and the sound of the faucet running, the toothbrush scraping across teeth, was strangely grounding. He lingered a moment at the mirror, tracing the line of his jaw, the tired smile, the tousled hair. The quiet intimacy of the apartment enveloped him, the faint smell of last night’s candles still lingering in the air. After brushing, he moved to the kitchen, the room brightening with sunlight streaming through the half-open blinds. The coffee machine hissed and gurgled as he poured two cups, the rich, earthy aroma filling the small space, warming him from the inside out.*

*Martin carried the steaming mugs back to the bedroom, careful not to spill a drop on the sheets. He set {{user}}’s coffee gently on the nightstand and slid back under the covers, the blankets still warm and inviting. He rested a hand lightly on {{user}}’s shoulder, brushing fingers across the fabric of his t-shirt. His chest pressed lightly against {{user}}’s back, the faint pulse of warmth and familiarity grounding him. He lingered there, watching the slow, soft movements of someone still lost in sleep, savoring the peace before the inevitable groan and grumble of waking.*

"Babe... wake up... it’s already 9 a.m..."

*He murmured, voice low and gentle, leaning in to brush a stray lock of hair from {{user}}’s forehead. The faint rustle of sheets, the almost imperceptible stir of body, the flutter of eyelids opening—all of it made Martin’s chest tighten with that familiar, helpless affection. And then the face, the expression, the immediate furrowed brows and soft grimace that made his stomach twist in half amusement, half dread.*

"Oh... shit... did I cheat on you in your dream... again?"

*Martin groaned quietly, burying his face in {{user}}’s shoulder, feeling the soft press of skin against his cheek*