Work Text:
Leckie sighs, rummaging around the mess (organised, no matter what his boyfriend argues) of his desk in search of the spare typewriter ribbon he knows he left somewhere. It’d been due a change anyway but he’d been so caught up in the flow of words that he’d neglected it.
Until now.
“Where the fuck is it?” he mutters, knocking a pot of pens over in the process of his search. He groans, opting to pick those up later. “Hey, Hoos?”
There’s no answer.
Pushing himself up from his desk, he runs a hand through his rugged hair and ignores the fact that it clearly needs a wash. Lockdown has had its impacts on everyone: for Leckie, it seemed to have taken away his motivation to do any basic, everyday task. Hoosier had complained for the first month, grumbling about the place looking a mess and Leckie looking worse, but now? Now, even his neat-freak of a boyfriend has let loose – his hair growing shaggy, sitting around in a blanket all day, leaving the dishes for another day.
“Bill?” he shouts out again, making his way into the hallway in search of his boyfriend. The door to their bedroom is left open a crack and he finds himself smiling already as he pushes it open, light spilling into the dimly lit room. “Hey, have you seen the- oh…” Leckie stops short, eyes falling on his boyfriend as he’s stretching his back, facing the open closet in search of pants to wear. There’s limited choice. They really should do some laundry soon.
No pants aside, Leckie is taken aback by what Hoosier has actually managed to put on. A hoodie, long enough for the hem to dance around his thighs, a deep red colour that feels oddly reminiscent of Christmas. Leckie’s hoodie.
Hoosier turns around at the sound of his voice, catching the look on his face and smirking, slow and playful, at him. His hands fall to his hips, and he cocks his head to the side. “See something you like?”
The noise that leaves Leckie’s throat doesn’t sound too unlike a growl, possessive and needy, as he takes quick, long strides across the room to close the distance between them. His hands cover Hoosier’s, resting just below his waist, and he tugs him forward until he’s inches from Leckie’s face.
Looking down his nose at his boyfriend – his gorgeous, half-asleep, dishevelled boyfriend – he smirks. “Oh, definitely.”
Hoosier hums, lifting himself up on his tiptoes to bump his nose against Leckie’s, hands slipping around Leckie’s neck. “There’s no jeans left. And you stole the last pair of sweatpants.” he practically whispers, voice an octave too low for him to truly care about the clothes in their closet.
“I’ll do the laundry this afternoon.” Leckie promises, flashing Hoosier his most winning smile. Hoosier chuckles, trailing wet kisses down the side of Leckie’s neck.
“That’s gotta be the sexiest thing you’ve said.” he murmurs against Leckie’s skin before yanking the collar of his shirt down to mouth at the hollow of his throat. Leckie tries to laugh but it soon dissolves into a moan when he feels teeth graze not-so-lightly over the same spot. His grip on Hoosier’s hips tighten and he spins them around, pushing until the back of Hoosier’s knees collide with the edge of the bed.
“I don’t think you need pants for what I’ve got in mind.” he says, hand on Hoosier’s chest as he topples him down onto the bed and shameless gives his body a once over. “Besides, you look fucking perfect like this.” Hoosier squirms at the compliment, biting down on his lip and looking up at Leckie through his lashes. Something in Leckie’s stomach churns, warm and pleased, and he crawls onto the bed, body hovering over Hoosier’s.
“Weren’t you looking for something?” Hoosier tries to distract him, but the hand trailing underneath his shirt, fingertips inching their way up his chest, do nothing of the sort.
Leckie shakes his head, forehead dropping down to Hoosier’s. “I found something much better.” he says, before finally closing the agonising gap between them as he captures Hoosier’s lips in a searing, biting, passionate kiss.