Archive of Our Own

The curtains were drawn, yet while the dark material shadowed the room, sunlight glowed soft and golden around the edges where the fabric didn’t quite meet the frame; it slipped through a narrow parting in the curtain, highlighting lazily drifting dust motes as it fell across the bed on the other side of the room and gradually crept up the rumpled sheets.

The occupant of the bed sighed gently; face nuzzling deeper into the indulgently soft pillows as his body shifted inside the swathe of body-warmed blankets, the material dragging pleasantly across his bare flesh. His breathing was light, eyes resolutely closed and mind drifting and unfocused, on the edge of consciousness but stubbornly clinging to the comforting haze of sleep - reluctant to wake.

But despite his blurry senses, he could detect the warmth of the sun creeping up his leg and a pungent, though familiar smell wafting from beyond the open bedroom door.

He must have nodded off again, because the next thing he was aware of was the mattress dipping under Chris’ weight as the blond sat on the edge of the bed and leant over him. Tom grunted softly, eyelids too heavy to lift as he felt Chris’ nose brush his cheek and his stubble graze his jaw when he placed a soft kiss to one prominent cheekbone. He sighed and smiled blissfully when he felt Chris’ hand seek out his own beneath the pillow and intertwined their fingers.

“Is that coffee I smell?” Tom murmured; voice deep and slurred with sleep.

“Yeah” came Chris’ deep drawl, accompanied by the rustle of the paper he held loosely in his other hand. Tom sighed again and rolled slowly on his back with a whisper of the sheets, the fabric falling low across his hip.

“When’s your flight?” the elder man inquired from under his arm which he had slung across his eyes.

Chris chuckled and leant back to take in the full view of Tom, warmed and drowsy with sleep with his honey-brown curls delightfully mussed. “Three hours.”

“Then what the hell are you doing out of bed?” He countered, coming across as more grumpy than demanding with his eyes peering blearily out at Chris from under his arm and his endearing bed-head. Amusement and affection swelled in Chis’ chest and he smiled and placed a large hand upon Tom’s abdomen, stroking the velvet skin and soft dips of muscle.

He felt a quiver run beneath his palm as Tom hummed contentedly and he began to rub soft circles across his lover’s tummy, causing the man to melt beneath his hand. He continued to massage the warm skin until Tom held out an enquiring hand and his arm slid aside so Tom could gaze beseechingly at his lover from beneath slumber-heavy eyelids.

Chris smiled and the paper crumpled forgotten to the floor as he accepted the offered hand and lay down alongside Tom, wrapping his arms around him. He thought Tom had fallen back asleep after several beats of silence, so he was surprised when the thick British accent broke the tranquil hush.

“How long will you be gone?”

“Two weeks”

He felt Tom sigh, his sides falling heavily and Chris stroked along the tender ridges.

He couldn’t see, but he knew Tom was frowning. “Ok” was murmured into the pillows.

Chris held Tom until he fell back asleep -lulled by the warmth and soft caresses to his tummy- then he dressed and drank his cold coffee as he prepared to leave.

When Tom woke up a little while later, it was to a mug of warm coffee and a note;

Tom smiled as he cradled the mug and took a sip.