Sunday Drive
The asphalt peeked out from the blanket of fallen leaves, crunching under the tires of his car. The warm tones of Autumn streaked past as he drove through the countryside, the tranquility of a Sunday afternoon bringing him peace after a stressful week at work. He gripped the wheel lazily with one hand, the route burned into his muscle memory as he traveled it weekly, a tradition. To his left, his companion stirred from his slumber, cuddling closer in his jumper. Dean smiled warmly at his lover, studying the sleep lines on his cheek and the stubble across his jawline, before turning his attention back to the road. Every Sunday they went out for a drive, and Seamus would fall asleep in increasingly ridiculous and adorable positions, always denying his boyfriend’s observations when he woke up.
A few miles more, and Seamus stirred once more, finally opening his bright blue eyes. He yawned, wiping his face and staring blearily at Dean before offering him a sleepy smile. These were the moments that Dean lived for, the moments spent with just the two of them.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Dean smirked, knowing that it was well past four in the afternoon, earning a scowl from the other man.
“Shut it,” Seamus grumbled, which quickly became another yawn.
Dean snorted, watching his passenger with amusement, “Your hair is a right sight, Seamus. You look as though you’ve been thoroughly shagged.”
Seamus sat up, catching a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror, his cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson, “I’m on to you, you’re just trying to get in my trousers.”
Dean laughed, quickly squeezing his hand and bringing it to his lips, “Always.”
Seamus grinned back at him, sitting up to place a kiss on his cheek, “Take us home, love.”