Ferralh was always a light sleeper, and it was moments like these that he was thankful for it.

He had woken up from a chill in the air, the fire apparently having died in the night, and decided he'd much rather stay under the covers than possibly wake his bed companion by attending to the fire.

He watched the Altus' face with awed curiosity.

This was not the first time.

In the mornings, whenever he woke to find Dorian still in his bed from the night before, Ferralh would stay, and memorize every inch of his face.

Ferralh ran his knuckles down the firm skin of Dorian's cheek, letting his thumb ever so slightly trace the outline of his cheekbone; just over the mole he loved so much.

Downward, he felt the texture of his slightly parted lips with the pad of his thumb. To the curl of his mustache, then along his jaw line. He felt Dorian's hot breath against his fingers.

His hand froze as Dorian breathed a soft chuckle.

"You realize if you really want to grope my face, you only need to ask," Dorian groggily spoke up, his mouth forming a smirk but his eyes not opening.

Ferralh felt his face heat up at having been caught in one of his secret pleasures.

"Did I wake you?" Ferralh asked.

He hummed a yes, "But there are worse things to wake up to. Please, continue, really."

He knew that Dorian was teasing him, but the mage so rarely stayed the night, and he was not about to waste such a scarse opportunity.

Ferralh ran the back of his fingers past Dorian's eyebrow into his hairline, feeling the silky smooth locks of dark hair in his hand. He trailed down and followed the shape of his ear with a feather-light touch, then to the back of his neck.

Dorian let out a noise that sounded far too close to a purr than he'd ever admit. Ferralh smiled and clung even tighter to his space heater.

Dorian opened his eyes, still heavy with sleep, and reached out for Ferralh's hand. He brought it to his lips and peppered his fingers and knuckles with kisses. Ferralh wrapped his other hand around Dorian's neck, and leaned forward and met his lips with his own.

Dorian returned the kiss with a hunger, but it remained chaste. It was too early for anything deeper.

"Good morning, Vhenan," Ferralh murmured when they pulled apart.

"'Morning, Amatus."