Work Text:
Sunlight filters through the open windows. A soft breeze blows the gauzy curtains inward, bringing the smell of spring flowers and rain clouds in the distance.
Dust motes float to the ground and despite being awake at such an early hour, you’re happy.
You can’t stop being happy.
You’ve tried, but shit, you fail miserably.
Contentment settles in your stomach, in your bones, relaxing you. You know you should move, should get up and be busy, but right here-right now?
This is heaven.
And only fools walk away from heaven.
He shifts under you in his sleep, your head is on his bicep and he must be uncomfortable. You start to lift up, to free his arm and let the blood flow return, but he merely mumbles your name and pulls you closer.
You hesitate for a second, muscles tensed, you don’t want to hurt him. He can feel you, the way you haven’t relaxed and he cracks an eye and looks down at you sleepily.
“Stay.” He mumbles, his big hand coming up to cradle your head and relax it down onto his chest. “I’m fine.” He assures you.
Slowly, testing your weight, you rest your head on his chest. His steady breathing lifts you and then brings you back down slowly. You can feel his strong heartbeat in his skin, your fingers trace over his pecs, laying flat on the impossibly soft fabric of his shirt over his heart.
You relax, sure you won’t make him uncomfortable now and he moves his hand from your head down your shoulder. It laces with your hand trapped by your bodies, but suddenly it’s not so strange. His other hand covers yours on his chest and he lets out a small sigh.
The breeze ghosts across your skin, raising goosebumps and making you shiver despite the comfortable temperature.
Sebastian lets out a soft chuckle, pulling the light comforter over you. Of course he’s perfectly fine, never cold, always the right temperature for you.
It’s so frustrating.
You press closer against his side, breathing in the smell of him, soft laundry soap and traveling and sleep. The kind of exhausted sleep where he almost didn’t bother to take off his clothes last night. You almost didn’t get a kiss, his eyes closing before he fell into bed. Your heart constricts at the thought of leaving him today. You don’t want to go to work, not when he’s here, for the first time in months.
A low grumbling thunder sounds off in the distance and your mind is made up. You’re calling out.
You can’t fall back to sleep, not now. Now that he’s here, with you. You watch his eyes move as he dreams, little bumps from your perspective, lifting and dipping his long eyelashes. You wonder what he’s dreaming about. His soft lips quirk into a small smile and he mumbles something too quiet for you to hear.
You want to trace the plains of his chest, memorizing them for the next time that he leaves, but he’s so ticklish, and you just know that doing that will wake him.
“You’re staring at me.” He sighs, adjusting his head to look down to you, so he’s not squinting over his cheek bones.
“Because you’re so pretty.” You say softly, almost embarrassed that he’s caught you.
He chuckles and brushes your hair out of your face.
“Are men allowed to be pretty?” He asks.
“If not that’s just stupid, because some really are.” You bury your face into his ribs as he laughs. “I’m sorry I bothered you. Go back to sleep, I’ll try not to stare.”
He shifts more, pulling you higher up. “I like when you stare.” He says softly, pressing a whiskery kiss to your forehead. “It means you’re not looking at someone else.”
“There are other people?” You ask, confused and he grins.
“I love you.”
You push up and kiss his soft lips. “I love you, too, you jealous idiot.”
He pulls you close, rolling on top of you and kissing you deeply. Your fingers braid through his long hair, holding him desperately close. Your heart swells in your chest as you wrap around him craving to touch every part of him, as much as you can.
He moans against your lips, breaking away and letting his head rest against your shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” You against against the side of his neck.
He shivers slightly as your breath skates across his skin and he pushes himself up on his arms to look down at you. “You have to go to work. But I don’t want you to leave.” His eyes tighten and it’s obvious he’s still exhausted.
“I’m calling out.” You hook his soft hair behind his ears, thumbs brushing across his cheeks. “Go back to sleep. I’ll still be here.” You promise.
“You’re sure?”
You nod and he grins, letting his big arms give out so he’s laying flat out on top of you. You groan and push against his shoulders, but he doesn’t budge. He’s too solid.
“Seb!” You whine as he smushes you into the mattress. “You’ll regret it.” You warn.
He laughs, rolling off you. “Fine.” He stretches and gets comfortable again, his big hand reaching for you. You curl up against him, tracing lines on his arm. “Keep doing that.” He mumbles.
You trace the veins sticking out under his soft skin, the tightly corded muscles. Your fingers trail over the light blue vessels at his wrists and the big bumpy veins on his hands.
It’s no wonder he makes you feel safe. Everything about him is strong, sturdy.
“Mmm.” He hums, twisting his hand up to capture yours. “I can sleep later.”
“Want me to make breakfast?”
“Pancakes?”
“Is there anything else?” You ask rhetorically. He chuckles and helps you sit up.
“I’m right behind you.” He promises, pulling you in for a deep kiss.
You carefully disentangle yourself from his grasp and head down the cold hardwood steps to the kitchen.
A perfect morning with the perfect man, heaven doesn’t get better than this.