The next morning, Tristan wakes up with only a mild headache and a feeling of extreme accomplishment and happiness.
He was in bed, that much was for sure, but he couldn't remember exactly when he'd gone to bed.
After all, he'd been up for most of the night with Lucas.
He slowly slips out of bed and stretches, feeling the sun hit his body and groaning slightly as he deepens the stretch.
(Mk)
Lucas nestles deeper into his pillow, grumbling softly, not wanting to wake up.
He was warm and cozy in his bed, and wanted to stay there forever.
Tristan starts to hum quietly as he goes through his bags, finding some clean clothes and putting them on before grabbing his running shoes, slipping them on.
He goes over to Tristan and kisse's his cheek - the only part of his face that he could really see - before stepping away, grabbing his keys and going on his usual run.
Lucas stays in bed, staying asleep, and pulling the blanket over his head.
(I'll be back in about 30 minuets.)
(Alright!)
Tristan returns about 20 minutes later, sweaty and panting slightly.
He pulls off his shoes and steps into the bathroom to take a shower.
Lucas was still snoozing when Tristan got back, but he stirs at the sounds of him moving about the dorm.
(I do have to go soon, I just dont know when)
Ten minutes later, Tristan steps out of the bathroom and walks over to his bags, grabbing some clean boxers and shorts.
(Alright!)
Lucas rolls over, turning and reaching toward Tristan, and when he did t feel the man beside him, he mumbles, "Tris. . ?"
Tristan turns, hearing Lucas roll over, and smiles.
"Yup. What other ass looks this fine?" he jokes.
Lucas blinks sleepily, "Hmm. . . what?" He mumbles, looking at Tristan.
"Nevermind." Tristan chuckles, straightening and pulling his underwear, then pants, on.
Lucas blinks and slowly sits up, "Ohh. . . I get it. . ." He rubs his face, " I'm sure there's another one out there that looks just as nice. Maybe even nicer." He teases.
"I doubt it. Genetics gave my this ass. And I've been training it, too." Tristan grins.
"You're blind, how do you know it actually looks that good?" He realxes, looking at Tristan.
"People tell me all the time assuming I can see it." Tristan replies jokingly.
Lucas laughs, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you.” He grins slightly, sitting up slowly.
"It's only a matter of time." Tristan says, mock arrogantly.
Lucas hums, “Maybe. . .” He grins, “Or maybe, now that I know you think highly of your ass, I just wont compliment it. Maybe I’ll complement something else.”
"Hmmm. . . what else could you compliment that you haven't already? You've complimented my muscles, my face, my ass. . . and certain other parts of my body, last night." Tristan smirks.
Lucas flushes, "I was drunk. And in more than one way." He crosses his arms, "It doesn't count." He huffs.
"Mm-hmmm. Sure it doesn't." Tristan chuckles.