Oh, God, Tom couldfeelCypress’s come leaking out of him as he thrust, slowing down to a languid crawl as they both fought to catch their breath. He felt around his hole, slippery with lube and hot come, whispering in awe, “Fuck, that was so good.”
“Mmhm.” Cypress eased Tom’s legs down so they could kiss, growling playfully and nipping at Tom’s lip. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”
Tom grinned, scratching Cypress’s beard. “Mmm, God, so are you. Damn, I needed that.”
“Feeling good?”
“Oh, so good.” Tom let his arms and legs flop against the bed, laughing happily. “I almost don’t even care we have to talk to Fox tomorrow.”
“Really?”
“I said ‘almost.’”
“Fair.” Cypress smooched his cheek. “Now, we’re gonna get cleaned up, get back in our little jammies, and get some good sleep so we’re ready for tomorrow.”
“You’ll be here?” Tom perked up.
“Flower market isn’t open on Sunday, and I don’t have any deliveries except a few baskets and standing spray to your funeral home, but that’s not until later.”
“Mmm, good. I think I’m gonna like waking up next to you.”
“Careful,” Cypress warned, winking slyly. “Might turn into a habit.”
“You know,” Tom said, smiling up at him, “I really don’t think I’m gonna mind.”
Waking up in Cypress’s strong arms was definitely something Tom could get used to. He had slept well, and it was nice waking up with a warm body next to him instead of being alone. He stretched his legs and snuggled back against him, yawning softly.
“Mmm, morning,” Cypress said. He sounded awake.
“Morning,” Tom mumbled. “You up?”
“Early riser. Been up, walked Mister Doodles, paid her tribute, came back to bed.”
“Wow,” Tom laughed. “Look at you go, Mr. Early Bird.”
“Wanted to let you sleep in,” Cypress said, kissing the back of Tom’s neck. “Big day.”
Tom sighed as he felt a faint tug in his gut. “Yeah.”
“I’ll be here the whole time,” Cypress promised. “Still feeling okay?”
“Yeah,” Tom said, surer of himself. “I feel really good. Happy.” He smiled. “Worried, heh, but happy.”
“Good. Mm, want coffee?”
“God, yes, please.”
They got up and ready to face the day, Tom drinking down two cups of coffee to help him transform into a freshly showered and dressed human. He’d gone ahead and put his scrubs on since he was expecting to go to work later, sitting on Cypress’s couch while he nursed cup of coffee number three.
He could sense his anxiety creeping up his spine, but Cypress eased it away when he sat down next to him and took his hand.
“You got this,” Cypress said firmly. “Just gonna be talking, that’s it.”
“Thanks,” Tom said, trying to sound more confident than he was. He nearly dropped the coffee when he heard a loud knock from downstairs, hissing, “Shit.”
Mister Doodles barked, snarling ferociously.
“Easy, easy, both of you,” Cypress soothed. “I’ll be right back.”
