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MHA #4, Sunday Morning
There had been cupcakes last night and there had been sangria, as expected. What happened after had been unexpected. Perhaps not entirely so but unexpected all the same.
Now it was morning and Stark, having slept deeply once he'd finally gotten around to sleeping, was waking up in an unfamiliar bed next to a familiar body. More familiar now than it had been before last night. Still unfamiliar enough to be mildly startling when he realized who he was holding on to while he slept. That was Summer. This was Summer's bed. That was Summer's chest his arm was currently thrown across.
Should he just creep away and hope she had no regrets? Should he wake her up? Should he lie here and try not to panic over the thought that he might have irrevocably ruined a very important friendship?
For the moment he was going to try and remove his arm from its current position (tempting though it was to keep it there) without disturbing her.
[for the gently modded woman whose bed the alien is in...and maybe mildly NSFW?]
Now it was morning and Stark, having slept deeply once he'd finally gotten around to sleeping, was waking up in an unfamiliar bed next to a familiar body. More familiar now than it had been before last night. Still unfamiliar enough to be mildly startling when he realized who he was holding on to while he slept. That was Summer. This was Summer's bed. That was Summer's chest his arm was currently thrown across.
Should he just creep away and hope she had no regrets? Should he wake her up? Should he lie here and try not to panic over the thought that he might have irrevocably ruined a very important friendship?
For the moment he was going to try and remove his arm from its current position (tempting though it was to keep it there) without disturbing her.
[for the gently modded woman whose bed the alien is in...and maybe mildly NSFW?]