Waking up with Jory in his bed was, like . . . Shit, Mal was useless at words this early in the morning, but it was good. Really, really good. He lay there, just watching Jory breathe. Was that romantic or creepy? Romantic, definitely. It was only creepy if you weren’t already shagging.
He couldn’t resist leaning in to plant a kiss on Jory’s shoulder. Jory snuffled into the pillow but didn’t wake up. It was cute as fuck, so Mal did it again, and then again for good measure, by which time Jory was starting to stir. And, well, his mum was always telling him, Waste not, want not, so Mal rubbed his morning stiffy against Jory’s hip. Although that probably wasn’t the sort of thing she’d had in mind.
“Morning,” Jory said, blinking and smiling.
“Morning.” Mal ground against Jory’s hip, and Jory took the hint and rolled with it. Or, more precisely, he rolled with Mal, a nifty move that ended up with Jory on top and their dicks giving each other their own morning greetings.
Mal’s dick thought it was fucking tremendous waking up with Jory’s dick. It didn’t take long before they’d made a right mess of each other.
Cos he was a gentleman, Mal felt around under the bed for the tissues and wiped them both off so they could snuggle back down together. Once he had his head on Jory’s shoulder, he could feel Jory breathing, which was even better than watching him.
“I suppose we’d better get up,” Jory said after a while, with a kiss to Mal’s head.
“Don’t wanna.”
“Realistically, how long do you think we’ve got before Tasha bangs on the door and yells something embarrassing at us?”
“Fair point. But don’t move yet.” Mal reached over to the bedside table and grabbed his phone. Lucky for him, Jory was still all shagged out and dopey, so he didn’t realise what was happening until Mal had snapped a picture.
Jory’s eyes widened, and he did flaily hands. “Okay, no. Seriously. I’m not feeling at all photogenic right now.”
“Nah, you look fucking gorgeous. Bed hair and all.” Mal showed Jory the photo.
Jory made a face like he’d just seen a pic of the prime minister, naked. “Well, if you can say that with a straight face, then at least I know you’re genuinely fond of me.”
Mal flicked to the next, which had Jory with OMG-face.
“Oh God. Please delete them.”
“Nah, I was thinking Instagram. Or Facebook. Which one are most of the people you used to work with on?”
“Give me that. Now.” Jory made a grab for the phone, but Mal was quicker, holding it out of reach until Jory, the bastard, started tickling him.
“You fucker,” Mal gasped through his laughter, as Jory wrenched the phone out of his grip. “Nah, don’t delete them. I’ll keep ’em to myself, I swear.”
Jory sent him a deeply suspicious look, but handed the phone back. “But just for that, I’m taking one of you.” He grabbed his own phone, which had been snuggled up to Mal’s all night.
“Sure thing, babe.” Mal lay back with his hands behind his head and pouted for the camera.
Jory laughed. “Do you have any shame?”
“Nope. None at all. Well, maybe a bit. I draw the line at dick pics. At least, not until Mr. Frisky’s feeling a bit more, well, frisky again.”
“‘Mr. Frisky’?”
“Shut it. I could have called it Excalibur, you know.”
“Not if you ever wanted anyone to take you seriously in bed.”
“Baby, any way you take me is fine by me.” Mal grinned, stretched, and sat up. “Hey, you gonna stay for breakfast? You’re welcome, but I ain’t gonna be hurt if you can’t face Tasha smirking at you over your cornflakes.”
Jory rubbed his beard. “I’m more worried about Jago Andrewartha’s reaction if he finds out I spent the night here.”
“Think he’s gonna go all medieval on you for sullying my virtue? Nah, he’d be cool with it. And not just cos he knows I ain’t no blushing damsel. He gave me a lift up to yours yesterday, didn’t he?”
“Still, I’d rather not rub his face in it.” Jory cupped Mal’s face with his hand, which, yeah, if he was honest, made Mal feel pretty damsel-like, but fuck it, he liked it. “Will I see you later today?”
“Yeah. Course. Uh, you’re not working, are you?”
Jory shook his head. “It’s Monday. The museum’s closed. Fortunately, as I’d be a couple of hours late already.”
“Then you should come and meet Dev. At the cottage.”
“Are you sure? Maybe I should meet him somewhere more . . . neutral.”
Mal frowned. “The cottage is neutral.”
“No, I mean . . . he might prefer somewhere he can walk away from.”
“He ain’t gonna walk away from you.”
“He might. After all, what claim do I really have on him? I’m just the brother of the woman who rejected him.”
“No, you ain’t. Well, you are, but the main thing is, you’re my bloke. So he ain’t gonna walk away.” He paused. Jory was smiling at him in a way that made his insides do weird somersaults. “What?”
“I’m not sure who’s luckier, here—you, for having a friend like Dev, or me, for having met you.”
Mal rolled his eyes, cos it was that or blub like a little girl. “Well, duh. It’s me, innit? Cos I got you too.”