Waking Up With You (Grey Weston)
Posted: 11 Sep 2016, 07:35
‹Grey Weston› The onset of evening was heralded by the thin, hoarse rasp of katydids roosting in the trees. The softer chorus of crickets followed suit. As if cued by the summer sounds, the hush that had fallen over the house was interrupted by the light, purposeful tread of footsteps. The muted click of Stoker's tags accompanied his brisk trot up the stairs, silencing briefly as he neared the bedroom. The door had been left ajar; less in invitation and more out of oversight. None of them had bothered to shut it when they'd stumbled in hours before. Stoker's muzzle forced it wider seconds later with an impatient gesture. He was near-silent as he neared the bed, gaze fixing on the three of them tangled in the sheets. A low, imperious exhale escaped him a second later. Not quite a bark, but a muffled demand for attention all the same.
‹Kaspar› He'd been dreaming, it felt strange to dream sometimes as if he didn't have the right to access them any longer. It was an odd thought, but he couldn't help it, like his reality was stranger than any dream he could muster. He was in bed in the house Grey had found for them, had insisted was going to be their home and he lay among a heavenly spread of sheets, tangled in the limbs of Grey and Sigrid, both warm at his sides. Will stirred for a feeding, his mother having taken a nap and Stoker was drawn by the fussing child and a desire for attention to wake them. There was some part of him that felt it was too real, that should he open his eyes he'd not be shaken from sleep and so he did. Slowly his blue orbs peered up at the ceiling, head tilting to eye the faces beside him, quiet in sleep. Stoker was indeed at the foot of the bed and Kaspar blinked at him blearily. "Am I awake?" He murmured, as if the dog might answer him. Bear wasn't far behind, he heard the loud thud of soft paws as he barreled up the stairs and through the door, almost running into Stoker's hind legs. Kaspar laughed, sitting up and taking a moment to stretch, to get his bearings. He was awake, it must be close to dawn he figured, almost time for him to disappear.
‹Grey Weston› The hushed question caused Stoker's head to ****, his gaze intent. His focus diverted a second later, ears swiveling to track Bear's progress. The shepherd took a mincing stride forward as the puppy barreled into the room, nearly colliding with the larger of the pair. His tail took up a slow, lazy rhythm seconds later. It was Kaspar's laughter that caused Grey to stir. "Mmmph." The sound that escaped him was barely coherent; rough with sleep. His response, at first, was to press closer to Kaspar, one arm tightening around him, his face blindly pressing into the man's chest, even as his free hand drew the covers up and over his head. "Yes." The answer - muffled - struggled from beneath the sheets a heartbeat later. ""Why, though?"
‹Kaspar› Sigrid stirred in turn, looking around with vague bewilderment. What time was it? She blinked up at her husband in confusion, glancing across at Grey and then each of the dogs and the cot where Will had pulled himself up to a sitting position and was babbling at the dogs. Stoker pressed his nose through the bars, licking fondly across the child's hand and Bear hovered excitedly, torn between following Stoker's example and pouncing over to try and scramble up onto the bed with the rest of them. Kaspar smiled down at Grey, leaning to brush a kiss to his forehead. "I'm not sure... It should be almost dawn, it's still dark. Sorry for waking you." He moved towards the edge of the bed, fondly patting each dog in turn before going to the cot, extracting Will from it. "Hungry?" He queried, hand patting the boys backside to ensure it wasn't a change needed. Sleepily Will curled into his father's chest, Kas carrying him back towards the bed to be met by a staring Sigrid. She'd lifted her phone to check the time and held it aloft, holding it out for Grey to read the time as her eyes stayed firmly locked on Kaspar. "It isn't morning..." She spoke quietly, awed. "The sun must have only recently gone down, we've all been asleep for hours..."
‹Grey Weston›His first instinct - as the mattress dipped beneath Kaspar's weight - was to curl into the space he'd vacated. It was the absence of warmth that served to rouse him - the shock of it forcing his eyes open. A noise of protest -unfinished and low - slipped from him. He settled into the space Kaspar'd left behind all the same, the sheets still holding the shape of him. His face settled against the sheets a moment later, despite their lack of warmth. "S'okay," he managed at last, the words slightly strangled. "Heading out?" Bear chose that precise moment to make up his mind, suddenly springing upwards and clawing frantically at the bedsheets. They pulled sharply to one side, forcing Grey to force himself upright, one hand tucking underneath the puppy's stomach as he swept him up onto the bed. Delighted with the development, Bear proceeded to bound over the covers, tail wagging, his tiny head clumsily colliding with Sigrid's elbow a moment later. Grey, for his part, shifted - the heel of one hand scrubbing at his eye. He hadn't moved. It was as if occupying the space Kaspar had left behind would somehow anchor him there; force him to become more than a cooling outline. Sigrid's softly spoken words, however, cut through the fog of sleep. He
stared at her for a second, gaze shifting between her face and the brightly lit screen. "But --" he began, gaze drifting to Kaspar.
‹Kaspar› There was a stillness, only the excited wiggling of a puppy, the sleepy warmth of his son in his arms and four sets of watchful eyes, Stoker's included. The three adults were trying to process, it seemed, to work through the implications of what it meant that here he stood, long after dawn in his house. In his... "Home." He spoke the simple word, the reality of the situation dawning on him, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I am home... And I got to stay. I did not leave you." He took a shuddering breath, holding it in his lungs as he tried to calm the hopeful enthusiasm that was threatening to send him bounding about the room. Delicately he put Will down in his mother's lap, the man crawling onto the bed himself, nudging Grey over some so he could sit between once more. "Do you think it's gone? Do you think I can stay every night?" He spoke with a slow burning fever, if he didn't speak on it he felt he might burst. Sigrid looked wary, she too had a spark of excitement, of hope in her eyes as she busied herself with feeding the boy that clung to her eagerly. "I have no idea, Kaspar, I really... Oh, god, I really hope so."
‹Kaspar› He'd been dreaming, it felt strange to dream sometimes as if he didn't have the right to access them any longer. It was an odd thought, but he couldn't help it, like his reality was stranger than any dream he could muster. He was in bed in the house Grey had found for them, had insisted was going to be their home and he lay among a heavenly spread of sheets, tangled in the limbs of Grey and Sigrid, both warm at his sides. Will stirred for a feeding, his mother having taken a nap and Stoker was drawn by the fussing child and a desire for attention to wake them. There was some part of him that felt it was too real, that should he open his eyes he'd not be shaken from sleep and so he did. Slowly his blue orbs peered up at the ceiling, head tilting to eye the faces beside him, quiet in sleep. Stoker was indeed at the foot of the bed and Kaspar blinked at him blearily. "Am I awake?" He murmured, as if the dog might answer him. Bear wasn't far behind, he heard the loud thud of soft paws as he barreled up the stairs and through the door, almost running into Stoker's hind legs. Kaspar laughed, sitting up and taking a moment to stretch, to get his bearings. He was awake, it must be close to dawn he figured, almost time for him to disappear.
‹Grey Weston› The hushed question caused Stoker's head to ****, his gaze intent. His focus diverted a second later, ears swiveling to track Bear's progress. The shepherd took a mincing stride forward as the puppy barreled into the room, nearly colliding with the larger of the pair. His tail took up a slow, lazy rhythm seconds later. It was Kaspar's laughter that caused Grey to stir. "Mmmph." The sound that escaped him was barely coherent; rough with sleep. His response, at first, was to press closer to Kaspar, one arm tightening around him, his face blindly pressing into the man's chest, even as his free hand drew the covers up and over his head. "Yes." The answer - muffled - struggled from beneath the sheets a heartbeat later. ""Why, though?"
‹Kaspar› Sigrid stirred in turn, looking around with vague bewilderment. What time was it? She blinked up at her husband in confusion, glancing across at Grey and then each of the dogs and the cot where Will had pulled himself up to a sitting position and was babbling at the dogs. Stoker pressed his nose through the bars, licking fondly across the child's hand and Bear hovered excitedly, torn between following Stoker's example and pouncing over to try and scramble up onto the bed with the rest of them. Kaspar smiled down at Grey, leaning to brush a kiss to his forehead. "I'm not sure... It should be almost dawn, it's still dark. Sorry for waking you." He moved towards the edge of the bed, fondly patting each dog in turn before going to the cot, extracting Will from it. "Hungry?" He queried, hand patting the boys backside to ensure it wasn't a change needed. Sleepily Will curled into his father's chest, Kas carrying him back towards the bed to be met by a staring Sigrid. She'd lifted her phone to check the time and held it aloft, holding it out for Grey to read the time as her eyes stayed firmly locked on Kaspar. "It isn't morning..." She spoke quietly, awed. "The sun must have only recently gone down, we've all been asleep for hours..."
‹Grey Weston›His first instinct - as the mattress dipped beneath Kaspar's weight - was to curl into the space he'd vacated. It was the absence of warmth that served to rouse him - the shock of it forcing his eyes open. A noise of protest -unfinished and low - slipped from him. He settled into the space Kaspar'd left behind all the same, the sheets still holding the shape of him. His face settled against the sheets a moment later, despite their lack of warmth. "S'okay," he managed at last, the words slightly strangled. "Heading out?" Bear chose that precise moment to make up his mind, suddenly springing upwards and clawing frantically at the bedsheets. They pulled sharply to one side, forcing Grey to force himself upright, one hand tucking underneath the puppy's stomach as he swept him up onto the bed. Delighted with the development, Bear proceeded to bound over the covers, tail wagging, his tiny head clumsily colliding with Sigrid's elbow a moment later. Grey, for his part, shifted - the heel of one hand scrubbing at his eye. He hadn't moved. It was as if occupying the space Kaspar had left behind would somehow anchor him there; force him to become more than a cooling outline. Sigrid's softly spoken words, however, cut through the fog of sleep. He
stared at her for a second, gaze shifting between her face and the brightly lit screen. "But --" he began, gaze drifting to Kaspar.
‹Kaspar› There was a stillness, only the excited wiggling of a puppy, the sleepy warmth of his son in his arms and four sets of watchful eyes, Stoker's included. The three adults were trying to process, it seemed, to work through the implications of what it meant that here he stood, long after dawn in his house. In his... "Home." He spoke the simple word, the reality of the situation dawning on him, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I am home... And I got to stay. I did not leave you." He took a shuddering breath, holding it in his lungs as he tried to calm the hopeful enthusiasm that was threatening to send him bounding about the room. Delicately he put Will down in his mother's lap, the man crawling onto the bed himself, nudging Grey over some so he could sit between once more. "Do you think it's gone? Do you think I can stay every night?" He spoke with a slow burning fever, if he didn't speak on it he felt he might burst. Sigrid looked wary, she too had a spark of excitement, of hope in her eyes as she busied herself with feeding the boy that clung to her eagerly. "I have no idea, Kaspar, I really... Oh, god, I really hope so."