Ryan was still asleep when Zane awoke, so he slipped quietly from the bed, careful not to disturb his boyfriend. He paused beside the bed though, smiling down at him. Ryan was sprawled on his stomach, snoring and taking up more than half the bed.

​

The pang of fondness Zane felt in that moment made him rub his chest as he stared at Ryan.

​

Sometimes he still didn’t know how they’d gotten here. How that had become this. How one day they’d been friends and the next they were so much more.

​

Zane thought about it as he showered, made coffee, and prepped breakfast. He was still thinking about it when Ryan finally wandered out of the bedroom, hair wild and sweats riding low on his hips.

​​

Zane grinned at him because he was helpless to do anything else in the face of early morning Ryan, who just let out a low, wordless grunt of a greeting.

​

Ryan skirted around the counter and plastered himself against Zane’s back, draping himself over Zane and wrapping his arms around him. He hooked his chin on Zane’s shoulder, mumbling something unintelligible against his neck, a sleep-warmed deadweight.

​

They stood there a long moment before Ryan reached for Zane’s mug of coffee, drinking half of it in one gulp, noisy in Zane’s ear.

​

Zane wanted to say good morning or maybe chirp Ryan for making it hard to get anything done with him doing his best koala impersonation. He wanted to give his boyfriend shit about drinking his coffee when there was a full pot right there.

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But all he could do was turn and cup Ryan’s face in his hands and say, “I’m really glad,” in this stupid, choked-up voice.

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Ryan just beamed like he knew what that meant. Like he understood that it was Zane saying “I’m glad we made it to this point” and “I’m glad I get to wake up in the same bed as you every morning” and “I’m glad you love me” and “I’m really fucking glad you were brave enough for the both of us because I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life like this.”

​​

But Ryan just pecked the tip of Zane’s nose—lips warm from the stolen coffee—gave him another sweet smile as he pulled back, and said, “Me too,” like he understood all the things Zane couldn’t say aloud.

​​

And Zane stood in their kitchen, long after Ryan had stepped away to shower, grinning helplessly at nothing because maybe Ryan did understand all those unspoken things.

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And maybe that was exactly why they worked so well together.