Author's Note: So this was supposed to be bedsharing and sex, but Matt insisted on sleeping on the couch and the sex is only alluded to. Sorry? 🙂
***
The first thing Dom notices when he wakes up is the all-too-familiar pounding of his head, accompanied by the disgusting dryness and scratching in his throat that tells him he’s slept with his mouth open, as he usually does after drinking too much. The second thing he notices is that at least this time he has apparently managed to get undressed, because he’s decidedly naked under the duvet.
Except right then his brain flashes back to hands, broad and long-fingered and instantly familiar, tugging at his shirt and unbuttoning his jeans, and he can almost hear Matt complain about the way both items cling to his skin. Suddenly completely awake Dom sits bolt-upright in bed, a noise that’s embarrassingly close to a squeak escaping him. It’s enough to bring Matt into the room, wearing only boxer briefs and one of Dom’s t-shirts, which is more than Dom can handle so early in the morning, so he plops back down and hides his face in the pillow, whining, “I’m not getting up today.”
“Morning, sleepyhead.” The mattress dips and Matt’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder blade, and Dom tries his best not to tense up, because he doesn’t actually want Matt to stop touching him. Matt chuckles, soft and warm, and Dom can’t help but peer up at him through his lashes, find his eyes, more green than hazel in the morning sunlight that’s flooding in through the half-open blinds. His lips curve into a smile, and Dom finds himself smiling back, forgetting about the pulsing pain behind his forehead. “You look better than I would have expected.”
“Why, Matthew, don’t flatter me so outrageously, it might go to my head,” Dom shoots back automatically. And because it’s always fun to make Matt blush he turns onto his back and pushes the sheet down, poses in a way that would earn him a good bit of money, one hand above his head, the other trailing suggestively down his bare chest. The effect is somewhat spoiled by the wince he can’t quite suppress. Moving too quickly is obviously still out of the question.
Matt laughs mercilessly, but he still looks, eyes trailing over Dom’s skin, a dark caress that sets Dom’s skin ablaze. When he speaks, however, it’s to offer Dom an aspirin and a glass of water, and as loathe as Dom is to break the moment that really sounds like a great idea. While Matt is gone, he sits up, gathering the duvet around him, and calls into the bathroom, “How pissed did I get last night - and why am I naked? Did you finally take advantage of me, Daddario?”
It feels easier to ask without having to look at Matt, because he honestly doesn’t know which answer he’d prefer and doesn’t want Matt to look right through his bluster in that Daddario way he has. He has long ago accepted that he wouldn’t mind Matt taking advantage of him, but he’d obviously much rather remember it if it ever happened. He peeks under the covers and tries to decide if he can discern any traces of sex on his body, which is of course when Matt returns.
“Seriously?” Matt tilts his head in typical Matt fashion, before handing the pill and glass to Dom, who takes them eagerly, grateful to have something to justify not looking into Matt’s eyes. When he does, however, they’re not mocking but thoughtful, and he replies in complete seriousness, “You, my friend, have no idea what wine-tasting means, you must have had a couple of bottles of wine at least. So I took you home.”
“And…” Dom prompts, setting the glass down and reaching for one of Matt’s hands, playing with his fingers. Matt frowns slightly but lets him do it, a smile beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth when Dom turns his palm up and begins tracing the lines there with feathery touches.
“You didn’t want to be alone, so I stayed,” Matt finally continues, his gentle voice summoning up images from the night before. Matt’s arms propping him up, the dread Dom had felt even through the haze of alcohol at the prospect of being left alone, trying not to beg and the gratitude when he didn’t need to, when Matt agreed easily. “I helped you get undressed - and since you weren’t wearing underwear and refused to put on pajamas, you ended up naked.”
Matt isn’t blushing, not quite, but Dom knows that tone of voice, and he remembers something else. He licks his lips and manages to ask calmly, “I wanted you to shag me, didn’t I?”
There’s silence for quite a while, but that’s normal, so Dom isn’t particularly worried, instead keeps his focus on their hands, on the sensation of Matt’s warm, slightly dry skin under his fingers as he keeps tracing idle designs onto his palm. When he draws a heart, grinning playfully, Matt looks up and smirks back before finally answering, “There are circumstances under which I’d shag you, but you being drunk off your ass isn’t one of them, thank you very much. I have standards.”
As so often the answer isn’t what Dom was expecting, and he stares at Matt in open-mouthed shock. He can’t quite bring himself to ask if he’d heard right, too afraid to be wrong, so instead he says, “Well, I appreciate your restraint. But seriously, where did you sleep - I hope I didn’t make you take the floor!”
“No, you tried to give me your bed,” Matt laughs, warm and fond. “I told you we’d share and was mentally preparing myself to get the full Dominic Sherwood naked panda experience, but then you passed out and started snoring so horrendously. I decided to take the couch.”
“The Dominic Sherwood naked panda experience - you talked to Alberto, didn’t you?” Dom grins and scoots closer until he can drape himself all over Matt, who watched him approach with amused eyes but hasn’t budged, which is all the invitation Dom needs. Matt is warm against him, and Dom fits his head into the crook of his neck, wrapping both arms around him, and half-whispers into his ear, “Well, how do you like it? Can’t have you missing out, after being my knight in shining armour…”
“You could charge for this, retire from acting,” Matt murmurs, turning his head, and suddenly their faces are barely an inch apart, and although this was his idea Dom is suddenly aware that he’s basically naked in Matt’s lap.
“Nah, only a very select few deserve to be the lucky recipients of this,” he manages, getting kind of lost in the way Matt’s eyes seem to change colour. Right now they darken, and Dom clears his throat and bursts out with what has been on his mind ever since Matt’s earlier response, “So. Under what circumstances would you? Shag me, I mean.”
It’s meant to come out teasing, but somehow ends up sounding much too honest for a hungover morning. Matt tilts his head, his hands fluttering in the air before being set down firmly on the thigh Dom has slung around Matt’s waist. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, and Dom is trying not to read into this, he really is, but he’s failing. And then that doesn’t matter anymore - nothing matters except the slight press of Matt’s lips against his.
He dimly vows to get a proper answer out of Matt soon, because he’s bound to have put a lot of thought into it, and Dom is always up for Matt’s ramblings, but not now. Now he finally get to kiss Matt properly, not just joking smacks on cheeks or teasing pecks on mouths but a leisurely exploration, Matt’s stubble rough against Dom’s, the muscles in this back contracting under Dom’s hands as he tilts them backwards. Dom hits the mattress with a small grunt, and they grin into their kiss, Matt’s body covering Dom’s with only the duvet between them.
Matt kisses the way he does everything, thoroughly and as if it’s the only thing that matters in the world right now, and it’s intoxicating. Digging his fingers into broad shoulders, Dom tilts his head back, deepening their kiss even further and lets his legs fall open, wraps them around Matt’s middle. A careful finger trails along the side of his face, and when he peers up through heavy lids, he sees that Matt is watching him intently, because of course he’s a freak who doesn’t close his eyes when kissing. Feeling light-headed, he straight-out giggles, and Matt breaks away to cross his eyes at him questioningly.
“I feel drunk,” he declares. “You’re making me feel drunk on a morning when by rights I should be hanging over the loo, whinging.”
“I can stop and leave you to it?” Matt smirks, the gorgeous bastard, making as if to go up, but he doesn’t stand a chance against Dom’s panda powers, four Shadowhunters-trained limbs clinging to him with utmost determination. Laughing, they end up in a tangle, before staring into each other’s eyes like they haven’t already lost this particular game of gay chicken, before Dom breaks and surges forward for another kiss.
With impatient hands he rids Matt of his t-shirt, lets them wander over planes of muscle he’s admired rather frequently on set and in the gym, wiry black hair tickling his palms. Matt’s own hands are sitting heavily on the curve of Dom’s arse, and he lifts himself to his knees, finally getting rid of the blanket separating them. He’s never been shy of his body, but he still shivers under the weight of Matt’s gaze once he’s completely bared to it.
Licking his lips, he teases, “So, this is a shagging circumstance, then?”
“I’d say so,” Matt replies, somehow managing to sound completely earnest, in spite of the bulge in his pants and the twinkle in his eyes. “It’s all clear and above board, in any case. If you’ll have me, that is.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Mattie,” Dom sighs, simultaneously exasperated and excited, and plants himself squarely in Matt’s lap, grinding down and making them both shiver in anticipation. “I’ll have you any way you’ll let me. I rather thought that was a given.”
“One… doesn’t like to… presume.” Matt sounds gratifyingly out of breath, and there's something in his face that makes Dom wonder whether he ever expected anything to come out of this long-lasting dance of theirs. Dom’s been known to overshare, enjoying the flush he could coax into Matt’s cheeks, but they’ve never talked about Matt’s experiences. He’s never known how to ask, and he’s never had anyone play the game like Matt does.
Not that it feels like a game anymore, hasn’t for quite a while, if Dom is being honest with himself. And it’s easy to be honest when held safely in Matt’s arms, a state Dom has aspired to find himself in as often as possible in recent months. Normally he feels relaxed, comforted, but not now, not with so much bare skin - now it’s a pleasure of an entirely different kind, and Dom leans in and finds Matt’s lips, invitingly red and swollen, already waiting to meet his.
They kiss and grind and roll around Dom’s thankfully rather spacious bed. At some point Matt’s pants get flung carelessly to the floor; after which Dom finally gets shagged, carefully and thoroughly, the way Matt does everything that matters. In the aftermath Dom stretches luxuriously, rubbing himself against Matt like a satisfied cat, and places a wet smack to Matt’s cheek. “Best bloody hangover cure ever.”
“Should I feel taken advantage of?” Matt smiles lazily, looking disheveled and flushed in a way that makes Dom’s stomach flutter. That could be hunger pangs, of course, since he hasn’t had anything to eat since the night before, but he rather doubts it. Unless it’s hunger for more of this.
Grinning, he shakes his head and bats his eyes at Matt, who's watching him indulgently. "Well, I could go for some food, and I clearly remember saying that I wasn't getting out of bed today..."
