When We Fall
“No, you move over.”
“Move over.” Rune shoved him, hard; Vyers felt a momentary twist of vertigo in the pit of his stomach before falling off the bed and planting his face firmly into last week’s underwear. He really needed to clean the place.
“Fine,” he muttered, and curled up as best he could under a discarded shirt, his legs still twisted in the bedsheets. “Asshole.”
The next morning he found himself warm and oddly comfortable, with Rune sleeping soundly next to him on the floor and the other man’s arms laced tightly around his abdomen.
God damn it, but he couldn’t stay mad at the jerk.