Cutlery

"Wha...?" Haggis asked, fuzzy with sleep, waking up to Roadie burrowing his face in his armpit.

Roadie's arm was draped across the other man, and he squeezed him tighter as he nuzzled his face further into the darkness. "Comfy," came his sleepy response. "Warm." Roadie dragged a leg on top of Haggis's for good measure.

Haggis huffed, trying not to sound too fond even as he rested his head on Roadie’s. "Why are you the big spoon? You're so much smaller than me."

"You can be any piece of cutlery you want to be," Roadie mumbled incoherently, turning to press a tiny kiss to the patch of Haggis's upper arm available to his lips. "I believe in you."

“I’m going to be one of those complicated salad forks that no one knows what to do with. Or one of those novelty toddler spoons shaped like an airplane or a dump truck. I could be a dump truck.”

At that, Roadie emerged from hibernation to silence Haggis with a kiss. “Shhhh.”