Fingernails (Mrog/Matty x George)

Nine: Actions and Consequences

George stroked his hands further around Matty's back, trailing his fingers achingly slowly up and down their spine, listening carefully as Matty's breathing stuttered whenever he bumped his finger over the lower parts of their back.

He tasted of tea - too black and bitter for Matty's tastes - and slightly bad breath, but they knew they probably did too, and to Matty, this felt like the most honest taste George could have.

Trust Matty to make morning breath romantic, but they supposed that this was the most raw taste of just George that they would get.

Matty leaned away, keeping their forehead against George's and their eyes shut. They snaked their fingers into George's hair, holding him to them, keeping him close as they just breathed once more.

"Should we get up?" Matty mumbled, their lips brushing against George's as they quivered with Matty's words. George groaned, the noise ending in a sigh as he gripped Matty's waist once more, rubbing his thumbs up and down the waist of the small angel situated on his lap.

"I can't move. You're sitting on me. If you don't move, you're my excuse." Matty giggled, pressing their lips against George's once more with a smile on their mouth before swinging a leg back off George's lap to move away.

"Hey, you never know," they started, almost falling over from the slight head rush as they stepped off the bed. "Maybe your mum'll make us breakfast."

George chuckled, rolling his legs off the bed to stand. "She's probably at work by now. Think I heard her leave. What time's it?"

Matty picked their phone up from the cabinet by George's bed, swiping their notifications away. "Nearly ten."

"Guess we're stuck with toast then - not like either of us can cook, eh?"

Grinning, Matty placed their hands on George's waist, pulling him in closer. "I suppose not." They pecked the taller boy on the jaw, stepping on their tip toes, before pulling away to tug on the shirt George had given them yesterday. "C'mon, lazy."

Before long, they were curled up next to each other on the sofa in the living room, eating toast and Marmite, and laughing at the vague misfortunes of the people on Jeremy Kyle. The room was warm, almost uncomfortably so, yet Matty and George couldn't bring themselves to sit apart, with Matty instead sitting with their torso facing George and their legs over his lap, an arm around his shoulder to keep themself upright.

By the end of the programme, it was just past eleven, and Matty's mum had said she wanted them back for half past.

"Matty, love, you need to get off soon."

Matty pouted, leaning into George's neck. "I know. Five more minutes."

Smiling, George sighed, pressing a kiss to Matty's forehead. "Okay. Don't make your mum angry, though."

"I won't." Matty pushed their lips against George's neck, feeling the tall boy sigh, stretching his chin forward and his neck out. "Can we just kiss for five minutes?"

George replied in a physical form rather than verbal, twisting his head to kiss Matty properly, on the lips.

It ended up being more like ten minutes than five by the time Matty and George pulled themselves apart for long enough to get out the house, but they managed to lock the door behind them and hold hands to walk down the street. They were both vaguely aware that they'd have to let go after a few corners, and as they reached the final bend before a less friendly neighbourhood, they paused.

George leaned down to kiss Matty once more, deeply, finding himself unable to stop thinking about doing so, and cupped their jaw in his large hands. "Have a good day, yeah?"