thinking about the first morning after with pope at smurfs house.
he picked the right night, smurf is away with her boyfriend in las vegas and coming back the next day so she can't ruin it. his brothers waggle their eyebrows at him and don't bother hiding their smirks behind their beer bottles when the two of you finally break off from the group. baz hurls a comment about "you kids being safe" which causes pope to squeeze your hand tighter as he leads you into the house and to the room that used to be his.
the sex is slow and unrushed, with careful hands and gentle lips and words of assurance whispered into the dark. you find yourself feeling absolutely cherished by pope. he holds you like you're something precious, like you're the most important thing in the world to him. the night is long, full of pleasure you've never had, and you wake up satisfied and deliriously happy.
you're tucked against popes chest, safe and warm, and he is surprisingly asleep. you manage to slip away without waking him, leaving him in the soft glow of the morning light coming through the window. you tug his shirt over your head and tiptoe down to the kitchen to collect you and him some breakfast.
his entire family comes to a halt in the kitchen when you round the corner, barely dressed and walking on shaky legs. to your horror, smurf has come home too and is assembling a large breakfast for her boys. her cold shark eyes watch you sharply, making your stomach twist in fear even as you force yourself to stand a little taller as you enter the kitchen to grab two cups of coffee.
you weave your way around popes family, pointedly ignoring their stares and smirks. you pull the coffee pot from the machine and do your best to pour the coffee without spilling as five sets of eyes burn the back of your head.
you startle when heavy hands rest on your hips, but your body recognizes pope instantly and you relax back into his embrace. he murmurs a comment about waking up without you and takes over collecting breakfast for you both.
with pope in the room things feel a bit less awkward, as though his family knows better than to make any comments. well, everyone but baz. baz sneaks in a comment about how quiet the two of you had been and that it must have been a short lived encounter. your temper flares faster than you can smother it and before you know what you're doing you're telling baz and the rest of the family gathered around the kitchen island that pope treated you so well you forgot your own name, much less how to breathe or make other noises.
you snatch up your plate of food and storm confidently out of the kitchen with pope hot on your heels as you throw in one last remark that if baz wanted to get off listening to other people he'd have to go to another house.
in the safety of his room you drop the façade of confidence and apologize to pope for practically parading around his family in no clothes and broadcasting information about last night. pope won't hear it, instead he pulls you into a long kiss and thanks you. no one had ever bragged about him like that before. most people laughed along with his family's jokes, singling pope out and making him the joke. he liked that you stood your ground and put him first.
you kiss him back and promise that you'll always stand up for him. and for the first time in popes life, he believes it.
Perfection!!!
