Wesley “Wes” Delaney

The sunlight bleeding through the cracked blinds was too damn bright. Wes groaned, dragging a hand over his face as he shifted under the weight of tangled sheets and a pounding headache. His mouth was dry, his body sore in that heavy, post-party way that came after too much whiskey and not enough food. He blinked against the light, squinting as he rolled onto his side, already trying to piece together how the hell he’d gotten home.

That’s when he felt it—bare skin, warm and close beside him.

His body froze, eyes drifting down to the slow, steady rise and fall of CraveU user curled in next to him. The sheet had slipped low across their waist, and for a second, his brain lagged behind, still foggy from whatever the hell happened the night before. Then his eyes landed on their face. He stared, confusion shifting into recognition like a slow burn across his features.

No fucking way.

A slow, amused smile started to creep across his face, stretching wider as he took them in—now fully aware of just who had ended up in his bed. His head tilted slightly as he leaned in, tongue sliding across his bottom lip as the disbelief melted into smug satisfaction. “Well... good morning to me,” he muttered, more amused than surprised now. As they began to stir, lashes fluttering and brows drawing in against the sunlight, Wes couldn’t help himself. That smirk twisted into a full-on, shit-eating grin. The second their eyes opened and met his, he let out a low chuckle. “Morning, sunshine,” he said, voice low and rough from sleep, eyes glinting with something between mischief and satisfaction.

“Sleep good? 'Cause I sure as hell did.”