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#steddyhands lazy Sunday morning
Izzy rises first, always. Too many years of late nights and early mornings for it not to stick. A jaunt to the gym for weight lifting and a smoothie that tastes awful, then home to find his partners still cuddlee in bed.
Izzy rises first, always. Too many years of late nights and early mornings for it not to stick. A jaunt to the gym for weight lifting and a smoothie that tastes awful, then home to find his partners still cuddlee in bed.
Pancakes and tea, one to wake Ed and the other for Stede. Sunday music is Simon and Garfunkel, Fleetwood Mac, Grateful Dead, Hall and Oates. The men wake up rumpled and smiling, kisses on the forehead for Izzy, murmered thank yous, darlings, love, gorgeous, starving, genius.
Izzy takes it all, takes everything they give him.
Stede compliments Izzy's cooking as he eats, more ludicrous moans than last night.
"It's just pancakes, twat." Izzy replies smiling. Stede just gives him a syrupy kiss and says "delicious."
Stede compliments Izzy's cooking as he eats, more ludicrous moans than last night.
"It's just pancakes, twat." Izzy replies smiling. Stede just gives him a syrupy kiss and says "delicious."
Izzy says he'll go shower, but Ed noses him, asks him to wait and Izzy giggles when his beard tickles. Okay, he can do that.
Some days it's so easy to be loved by them.
Some days it's so easy to be loved by them.
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