You're not totally sure what wakes you -- James's quiet snores or your need to pee. Probably a mix of both, since his face is smushed into your neck and thus you ear is rather close to the rumbling breaths. The sun has almost set, evening light bathing the room in a warm golden glow. James had gotten home from an early shift a few hours ago and declared today "a wash" and begged you to nap with him on the couch.
Naps, in your relationship, mean you sprawled across the cushions and James gently but firmly positioned on top of you, arms wrapped around you like the world's coziest and most handsome blanket. There is nowhere you feel safer than his embrace.
You know that he likes sleeping like this, too. Getting James to slow down is like coaxing an excited puppy to sit -- he's always on the go, always moving, always talking. You love it about him, his lust for life. His commitment to trying new things and to making sure that you're as happy as possible. But he tires himself out often and you know that one of the few places he feels able to rest fully, to remind himself that the world will wait, is in your arms.
The sleep slowly fades from your vision and you rub a hand up and down his back. He inhales deeply, lips pressed to your pulse, before letting out another small snore. You grin. His unruly black hair tickles your nose, your cheeks. He smells like coconuts and grass.
You could stay here forever, probably, but you remember the other reason you woke up: bathroom. You run your fingers through his curls gently, teasing out a few knots, and hope it'll rouse him.
"James," you whisper. "James, wake up. I need to pee."
Snore.
"C'mon you lump," you say, still whispering, your voice rough with sleep. "Jamie, move."
You could shove him off, you know that. But he is rather heavy and you don't totally want this moment to end. The flat is so cold and he's so warm.
But, as he snores again, a little louder this time, you decide that romance can take a backseat for a second. You do need to go to the bathroom and someone needs to start dinner sooner rather than later. So, you decide to employ a trick Sirius taught you from their school days. You gently push his hair back so that you can bring your lips to one of his ears and suck in a breath before blowing sharply into his ear canal.
James startles, yelping and jerking so wildly that he rolls right off of you and onto the floor with a thump.
"Fuck me," he says, voice groggy. You can't contain your laughter as it bubbles out of you and you sit up. "Could've just shaken me, you evil woman."
"But that's so much less fun!" You stand and move to step over him, dodging his hand where he tries to grab your ankle.
"I could've hit my head!" he moans.
"Good thing you've got a thick skull."
"Brutal. What time is it?" he mumbles, eyes closing again right there on the carpet.
"Time for you to start dinner!" you call over your shoulder. James groans and you laugh.