Day 018

When Dean woke up, both eyes shot open to the light.

Carter’s weight was light next to him, back turned to him, knees folded away from him. Carter slept with his mouth half open. Always half open. His breath audible on exhale. Dean watched him carefully.

It was late morning. Dean had the day off. Carter wasn’t needed until the very tail-end of the day. The night had a sort of magnetism for Dean, calling him out with it’s dark-dotted eyes and plain walls. But the days were something different all together.

With Carter, he owned them.

He leaned in and pressed a very soft kiss to Carter’s shoulder. Under him, Carter didn’t even bother stirring. He slept like the dead. Always had, always would, Dean figured, no matter what he did about it.

Dean could never pinpoint exactly what he loved about Carter, but he knew it was love. It was a sort of white-wash over him, a dripping paint sensation that started from his eyes and made it’s way down. Some days, he thought it was the boy’s smile and some days it was his laugh. It could have been when Carter was sleeping, the silent perfection of his form curled up on their threadbare sheets, but it wasn’t that.

Carter was made of a kind of sweetness he had never found in other people. A clever mind and a sharp sense of observation that was somehow burried underneath a nonchalant exterior. A boy who didn’t care about his status or place, but cared more about the things he did. It was evident in the way that Carter undressed himself in the morning and redressed himself at night.

It was different than all the boys he left at home in Rome.

Dean leaned in again, running his nose against the line of Carter’s jaw. With that, Carter groaned and opened one eye.

“Helios better be on fire,” He said. “because there is no reason I should be getting up right now.”

Dean laughed.

“What would you do if the club was on fire?” He asked. “I wasn’t aware you even cared.” Dean’s light Italian accent coated the words as he rested himself on Carter’s upper arm.

“I don’t. But, I’d hate to miss a spectacular light show.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Carter gave a little grin and closed his eye once again. His mouth was closed, though. Dean knew he was awake. He ran fingertips down his thighs, to his calves and back up again.

“You just don’t want me to sleep, do you?”

“The day is ours, Carter.” Dean said. “I really think we should do something about that.”

“You’re the one who said that the city was boring during the day. That the sun washed out all the fun.”

“I guess I lied.”

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