precarious ; jonathan byers [2]

chapter nine- breakfast of shame

Casey

I awoke the next morning to quiet snoring coming from beneath me making me groan, sleepily snuggling my head deeper into Jonathan's shirtless chest. I let the snoring continue for a few more minutes before I opened my eyes to glare up at him, even if he wasn't awake to see it.

Sitting up in bed, my eyes furrowed at my unfamiliar surroundings. It was almost that quick panicked feeling when you wake up in a room that isn't your own, kind of like being the first person to wake up at a sleepover or something. When my eyes landed on Barb's picture displayed on the corkboard across the room, I smiled slightly, remembering the events from last night. The fight, the excessive drinking, the sex. I felt my cheeks begin to grow warm as I thought back to what went down between Jonathan and me. He definitely went down, I can tell you that much. 

Glancing back over to Barb's picture, I noticed my Scooby-Doo pajama pants on the table below her, probably from when Jonathan ripped them off me last night. I chuckled to myself, hopping out of bed to go grab them. Whoops. Sorry, you had to see that, Barb.

A sleepy moan could be heard from the bed as I pulled my pants back on, followed by Jonathan sitting up, rubbing his eyes. "Morning, sleepyhead," I greeted him, trying not to giggle at his current bedhead. I walked back over to sit on the edge of the bed next to him.

"Are you okay, babe?" He asked, hoarsely, rubbing my back.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I questioned him, wondering why he would think otherwise.

"Well, it's just-you know, some people might feel weird after doing what we did...for the first time," He elaborated slowly, an amused smile beginning to pull at the corners of his lips. 

I shrugged, reaching up to comb my fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix it, "Honestly, I don't feel weird," I answered. 

He raised an eyebrow, "How do you feel?"

"Like I'm on cloud nine. Head over heels. Sore," I retorted, earning a snort from Jonathan. 

"On a more serious note," Jonathan grunted, swiftly wrapping a strong arm around me to hoist me up on top of his lap. I smiled at his gesture, lacing my fingers together behind the nape of his neck. "I never want to fight with you ever again,"

I felt my smile drop slightly at his tone. I nodded, glancing downwards. "I'm sorry. I said I wanted space, and you thought it meant I wanted to break up. I should've worded that differently, that's on me."

"Is that still something you want?" Jonathan asked me hesitantly, his fingers finding the hem of my tee-shirt, wandering across my skin. I had to take in a breath to keep my composure.

"Absolutely not," I responded honestly, grazing my thumb across his cheek. "I thought space was what I wanted but last night proves that spending time without you is torturous." 

Jonathan cracked a very Jonathan-like smirk, wrapping his arms tighter around me, "Good," He muttered. "I promise I'll be better. For us."

"Me too," 

Our conversation was interrupted by a knocking on the door, followed by Murray's voice, "Jonathan? You up? I have breakfast on the stove if you would like some."

Jonathan pressed a finger to his lips, instructing me to stay quiet before he responded. "Yeah, sure. I'll be out in ten," He called out. "Might as well see if the girls would like some, too."