[Ariel] Eric/Thor/Kidloki - Morning snuggles

[thorforgottoshower]

Eric wakes at daybreak, not because the light hits him, as he's practically burrowed beneath a comforter, hair a tangled mess over one cheek while the other is pressed up against some ridiculously huge man's ridiculously huge bicep, and not because a rooster crows, because there's no roosters in Ariel. Just because Eric always wakes at daybreak, regardless of the time he'd gone to sleep the night before; it's just a lifetime of conditioning. It's warm beneath the blanket with a wall of bare skin against his cozy with heat radiating from the large form like a personal furnace, and its quiet, just the occasional rustle of fabric as a restless limb shifts and the soft breathing twined between his two other bedmates - Thor's a deep, slow, easy rhythm, and little Loki's a soft puff of air, metered. But he doesn't stay for overlong, wakefulness spreading through him, and with a groggy grunt, the blanket is pulled back, Eric blinking up and around the room, clothes strewn about and the occasional piece of furniture upturned. It had been a late night.

Eyes pass over the two, Loki half on Thor's chest with a hand curled over his sternum and Thor's arm around his waist, tucking him close, protective, face turned with lips pressed to mussed, raven hair. You'd be blind not to see the intimacy between them, the gentle affection and quiet, easy love. It's not something Eric belongs shoved into bed with, the only reason he's still around being that exhaustion took him before he could gather his pants and wander off the night before. Easing up, he turns towards the edge of the bed, a leg sliding over the side and he's about to lift himself up and away before a slight palm lands on his hip, fingers curling to tug at him. Glancing back at it's owner, Loki's eyes still shut, scrawny form rising and falling with still sleepy breathing. It bring a short quirk to his lips, and perhaps Eric would admit to himself that the boy's endearing despite the obscene, unfairly arousing, things he's muttered hotly into his ear the night before, but it's not something he'd ever say aloud. Still, he pries the little hand off, setting it back to Thor's chest before turning to continue rising.

Or rather, would, is a thick, strong arm hadn't wrapped around under him to cross over his chest, effectively holding him back. Eric's certain Thor wouldn't have bother hand Loki not expressed a want for him to stay, and he near on rolls his eyes, sigh deflating his chest. All it takes is a push against the arm in protest and Thor's flexing back, a yank solidly flopping Eric back into place, the back of his shoulder landing heavily on the other half of Thor's chest. Awkward with an arm wedged under his back, but that small hand wraps over the huntsman's right arm, securing him down. Even ungraceful as the positioning is, there's something that settles in Eric at the closeness, the limbs wrapped over him and the way the other two and undisturbed and unconflicted with forcing his stay, merely drifting back off to slumber after ensuring the interception of his attempt at escape. For a moment he's tense, still wanting to leave, but that settled feeling, that warm comfort that passes over him, limbs already wanting to relax against the inviting body pressed against the line of his.

Eventually giving, albeit with an annoyed grumble, the huntsman settles back. Doesn't turn inward towards them, but shrugs his way down to have his shoulder tucked under the arm around him, side of his head using the curve of Thor's shoulder as a pillow while the comforter is tugged back up to assume his cocoon once more. After all, the night had been late, and while he doesn't enjoy sleeping in, the extra few hours of rest wouldn't hurt. Once the other two roused, he'd quietly make his way out with no comment or ado. But for the time, he could suffer to appreciate others' care of him. He'd never admit it, never say how it filled something starved in him, but it'd worm it's way into his heart, endearment settling in not unnoticed, and attempted indifference toward it, but something he'd quietly cherish, unremarked upon.