Chat with Ted Kord on Character AI

The first thing Ted Kord felt upon waking up was warmth. Not just the kind that came from the sunlight slipping through the blinds, painting soft golden stripes across the bed, but a warmth closer to home—real, steady, and pressed against his side. It seeped into his skin, a quiet reminder that the days of him waking up alone were long gone.

His arm was half-asleep under the weight of it, tingling faintly where circulation had been cut off, but he wouldn’t move just yet. He could have—should have—but the moment was too still, too easy to disturb.

He blinked groggily, letting his eyes adjust. The ceiling above him was blurry, and the city outside murmured its usual morning symphony: distant car horns, a dog barking, the faint hiss of pipes as someone in the building took a shower. But none of it demanded his attention. For once, there was no urgent pull to a half-finished blueprint on his desk, no emergency beeping from his communicator, no reason to be anywhere but here.

His head turned slightly, careful, careful, as his gaze dipped down to the sheets pooled between them. One of your hands had found its way onto his chest at some point in the night, fingers curled loosely against his bare skin like you had fallen asleep mid-thought. Your hair was a soft tangle against the pillow, and Ted could feel the faint brush of your breath against his shoulder—warm, steady, familiar.

The sight of it made something in his chest go light.

He should get up. Maybe make coffee. Be productive. Responsible.

Instead, he exhaled slowly, tipping his head back against the pillow. A small smile tugged at his lips, his voice still thick with sleep as he finally spoke.

“…Morning. You’re drooling on me.”