sweaty summer days of my DREAMS ft. my husband benjamin "dex" leonard poindexter
wc : 600
stumbling languidly into my bedroom, i see dex sprawled out on the bed, face down. i take a beat to admire his broad, muscled back and the shadow his large stature casts on the far corner of the room. we’re both glistening with sweat, accentuated by the wall of light pouring through the open window. i internally acknowledge the shit job that the oscillating fan propped under the window is doing when i feel a pang of pure heat wrack my body, unable to truly take a breath of fresh air when the temperature inside and outside are in equilibrium. turning my attention back to the bag of muscle in front of me, my bare feet shuffle closer to him, careful to not startle him though i know he’s noticed my presence by now. i gracefully lay my body over his, deliberately curving my arms and legs in the same manner and molding to his body.
“hey”, i mumble, nuzzling my face into the back of dex’s neck and inhaling.
“hey”, he replies, though it sounds more like “hhhmmmm” with his face being smushed in the duvet. it makes me vaguely wonder if he can breathe, especially with my added weight on him, but the thought comes and goes when i settle back into his sweaty figure.
about five minutes pass of us just existing as one, sinking into my mattress together and breathing the muggy, dusty air. i go to peel myself off of him, when i’m reminded of the day’s worth of grime sitting on my skin, hoping to hop in the shower and wash it off, but feel an iron grip on my wrist pulling me back into our puddle of heat.
“just a few more minutes, sugar”, he says with a rasp, finally lifting his head to look at me over his shoulder. “i like feeling you melting into me.” his normally icy stare is so gooey it makes me want to burst into tears. in fact, i can feel the pressure building in the corners of my eyes like a dam about to break.
“whatever you want” i reply all syrupy, pushing my face back into his shoulder with puckered lips. the combination of the heat and his pretty face has made me far more pliant than usual, ignoring the faint thirstiness burning the back of my throat in favor of absorbing the moisture from dex’s skin. i could die like this, i think to myself, latched onto dex like a remora on a shark (nerdy ref, i know, but fuck it we ball). my friends often comment on his unusual attachment to me, not knowing we’re both in too deep. i used to scoff at the idea of enjoying being around someone constantly, citing childhood friendships that soured after summers of sleeping over at one another’s house every single night for weeks, getting sick of my family on vacation, and the dread of having to be locked in a classroom with classmates i’ve known since pre-school. but this, i’ve found, is different. we can exist in each other’s space without constantly needing interaction from one another, without the incessant need for small talk or forced conversation. this is why i’m more than content to come home and do this every day with the knowledge that we love each other and that’s more than enough fuel to survive even the toughest of days.
and so we laid there for an indeterminate amount of time, not sleeping, but simply amalgamating and breathing each other’s air. if i died sometime during that period, i wouldn’t even know.
a/n : thx to that one person who voted yes on the poll bc this is your fault i want you to know that
never get too comfortable during wisdom teeth recovery or else you will receive a terrible omen such as a stitch falling out that will have you sick to your stomach
