The stages of falling asleep with you

we should cuddle like this literally forever… omg, nevermind

sleeping giant, Ella and Pitr

Getting ready for bed

“You wanna go first, or me?”

lol, me. It’s always me.

I think it’s adorable that we sometimes still ask this like it’s really up for debate when we both know I’m going to get ready first.

It’s just better if you go second. That way, you can leave the soap situated just how you like it to dry afterwards, and while you’re in there meticulously reorganizing product, I can slather myself in moisturizer without you being like “omg, wat is all that?!” (Sh, leave me be. It puts the lotion on its skin.)

I know you are eager for the efficiencies of getting ready for bed together — you’re always offering up the rest of the bathroom like a gentleman while you’re showering, then barging in on me like a puppy while I am — but I’m stalling. I say it’s because we’re still not at that stage, but part of me hopes we never will be.

I’m not sure you realize the repercussions.

For one, I keep that aforementioned moisturizer and some of my other shit outside the bathroom because there’s already “too much clutter” for you in there as it is. I’m not sure you realize how much more there would be if all of the “getting ready” was done in one place.

But more importantly, “getting ready for bed together” is one of those paths you can’t come back on. Once you start getting to a certain level of comfort, there’s no going back to “but how does she keep her skin so soft??” moisturizer mystique. You can’t unsee sausage being made.

Waiting and warming up the sheets

Once I’m fully lotion-lubed, I hit the lights and get into bed. I’m listening to the rest of your shower, listening for when you turn it off and then painstakingly slick the water from your body so as to keep your towel as dry as possible. (Sometimes I imagine you angrily eying my hung wet towel as you do this, like “who is this fuckin girl using a towel like a towel?” And to that I have to laugh a little, like “you can’t win them all, my friend.”)

You know I’m on my phone this whole time because you catch me tossing it aside when you open the door. But sometimes I see something that made me laugh loud enough to hear and when you come to bed you ask to see it. I always show you and you never laugh and I’m just like “lol, why do you keep asking, man.”

*daaamn,* son

There’s this moment every night when you walk out from the shower and come to bed as you are where I’m like “oh hells yeah — I almost forgot.”

You getting into bed naked is, like, the best. Maybe not the literal best best of everything — obviously — but it’s pretty damn awesome and fucking high up there.

We’re about to cuddle the shit out of this.

Holdup, I forgot a water

Or I need a sip real quick.

K, we good.

Cuddling like we’re going to cuddle forever

Aw yiss. Mothafuckin cuddles.

My head on your chest, my hand on your neck, you arms wrapped as fuck around me, and holy shit balls is this shit ever good. You sneak some forehead kisses, I get some in against your jawline, throw one leg across your pelvis. This is amazing.

Why don’t we sleep like this all night, every night?

3 minutes later: oh yeah. lol. That’s right.

omg I can’t *sleep* like this

lol, what the hell was I thinking.

That was never gonna be a thing. You’ve gotten too hot; my neck starts to hurt. Plus, we’re both belly sleepers so who the hell were we kidding?

Sleeping position for *real* reals

I say goodnight, one more kiss, put in the earplugs I’ve been clutching to silence out your snores, and then flip over more or less onto my belly. (Regardless of which direction I go, it always feels like I went the long way.)

I always want you to follow and big spoon/belly sleep half on me, and sometimes you actually do. Other nights, you flip the other way and then we’re sort of back to back and it’s kinda sad, our butts all married-couple cuddle. But it’s fine. We’re still touching.

Okay, but wait, can you also touch your foot to my foot just so…?

Perfect.

Shut it down

But not before my mini existential crisis

What do I have to do tomorrow? What should I do about that thing at work? omg, what should I do with my lif — -

Did he just fall asleep?

Is that guy already fucking asleep?!

That adorable motherfucker.

Like a super power or something over there, every damn night.

You say you don’t fall asleep that quickly, but your twitching and sleep breathing over there every night, 90 seconds in, determine that is a lie. I know it’s still that precarious early stage of sleeping, and if I got up you’d ask me where I was going like nothing happened, but for all intents and purposes, he gahn.

And what a darling way to fade.

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