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Stede peers over the top of his glasses when Izzy shuffles into the living room, eyes still scrunched up with sleep and absolutely swimming in Stede’s old college hoodie. It’s torn at the collar and has paint splattered across the chest from when they’d decided to redecorate the bedroom after moving into the new house together, but Izzy likes to sleep in it and Stede certainly isn’t about to complain. He rotates it out between washes with a tired old sweater Edward gave him.
“Mmm, good morning, sweetheart,” Stede hums, opening his arms to accept the tired man that crawls right into them.
It’s a morning routine as well loved as the sweatshirt Izzy is wearing.
Izzy makes an incoherent, grumbling sort of sound at the back of his throat before tucking himself against Stede’s chest, comfortably settled on his lap like Stede is just an oversized teddy bear. He tuts and rubs a hand up and down the length of Izzy’s spine, readjusting the newspaper in his free hand as he lounges back into the couch again.
“My poor, tired Israel. Long shift yesterday?”
Izzy and Edward are firefighters, which means they typically work two straight days followed by three days off, or three days to every four depending on the time of year. It isn’t Stede’s favorite thing, knowing that they work long hours doing such a dangerous job, but having them home with him for the next three days will certainly be nice.
He always does his best to schedule his meetings and business travel around those days off so he can spend as much time with them as possible.
The half asleep boyfriend in his arms nods while the other is probably still out cold beneath a mountain of blankets in their bed upstairs. Stede tends to rise with the sun due to the international nature of his business dealings, and as much as it pains him to get up while his loves still sleep he does enjoy these sleepy morning moments together with Izzy.
Stede kisses the top of Izzy’s head, nuzzling his face into the soft salt and pepper of his hair. Izzy shudders and presses deeper into the circle of Stede’s arms, allowing himself to be petted and kissed and coddled without complaint in his sleep deprived stupor.
His hands are engulfed by Stede’s too large sweatshirt and he looks so small like this, curled up on his lap like a house cat in need of attention. It’s so rare that he will allow Stede or even Edward to spoil him with what he defines as “too much” attention and affection, but when he’s still sleepy it makes him a little less recalcitrant.
Stede plants a tiny kiss on his brow, then on his cheek, across the bridge of his nose and down towards his mouth. The paper lies on the couch beside them now, the morning crossword temporarily forgotten. It’ll still be there later, it always is.
He pulls Izzy closer and kisses him sweetly, wrapping him up in a hug so tight he swears he must not be able to breathe, but Izzy himself has requested that the only hugs he wants are the ones where Stede and Ed, quote, “attempt to squeeze the very life from my fucking body” so that’s what Stede is here to do. Based on the happy little grunt Izzy makes, it must be sufficient to meet his requirements.
Izzy’s lips are soft and move lazily against his own, allowing Stede to slip his tongue inside with absolutely no resistance. The kiss tastes a little like sleep and stale coffee, but Stede cherishes it all the same, especially when Izzy shivers ever so slightly when Stede’s fingers tease the bare insides of his thighs beneath the hem of his sweatshirt. There will be plenty of time for that later though, after he’s fed both his boys and can lay Izzy out on the bed and give it to him the way he deserves.
“Take a nap, dearest. It’s still early, and Ed won’t be awake for a while. Once he’s up I’ll take you both out for breakfast, how does that sound?” Stede croons, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Izzy’s ear. “We haven’t been to the diner in a while.”
Izzy’s reply is an agreeable sort of hum and the nuzzling of his face into Stede’s throat. He supposes to expect more from him at 6:37am after a 48 hour shift would be a little unfair. Instead, Stede rests his chin on the top of Izzy’s head and picks up the paper once more.
It’s easy to tell when Izzy has dozed off again because he goes loose limbed against his chest and his breathing evens out into a slow, steady rise. He’s shifted sideways in his sleep with his cheek pillowed comfortably on Stede’s shoulder, and Stede likes this because it means he can look down and admire how peaceful Izzy is when his guard is lowered.
His face is smooth and unlined by the daily stresses that typically plague a firehouse Lieutenant, and he looks a little like the man in all the pictures from thirty years ago, when Ed and Izzy first met. Stede never met those men– he was a much later addition to their lives only in the last couple years, after they pulled him out of the fire that nearly killed him.
He’s thankful every single day not just that they saved his life, but that Edward had the courage to ask him out a week later when he was released from the hospital. Dating two men with such a long history together, and a relationship of their own that spans decades Stede could never hope to compare to, hasn’t been easy.
And yet here he is, doing the morning crossword puzzle in the house they share, with one man asleep on his lap and the other asleep in their bed.
This isn’t so bad, Stede thinks to himself, tapping his pencil against 24 across.
“My darling, do you remember the name of the monster from Beowulf?” he asks softly, rubbing Izzy’s hip through the worn fabric of his hoodie.
Stede loves to read but remembering names is something he, and Edward, struggle with on occasion, and he hasn’t read Beowulf since his university days. Lucky for them that Izzy’s memory is near perfect.
“Grendel,” Izzy mumbles after taking a moment to digest the question, sliding his arms around Stede’s neck and burying his face against it.
Izzy’s goatee tickles at his sensitive skin but Stede ignores it, keeping his own arm comfortably draped over his exhausted boyfriend with newspaper still in hand to fill in the boxes. It fits, because of course it does.
“Thank you, love.”
Izzy says nothing but Stede smiles at the tiny, phantom kiss he feels at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.
The sun is shining brightly through the gauzy curtains by the time Edward finally joins them in the living room. His graying curls are bunched up in a claw clip at the back of his head and he’s wearing a bright pink, floral robe that used to be Stede’s until Edward got his hands on it. Stede thinks it looks better on Ed anyways, like most things do.
Izzy automatically shifts his weight to one of Stede’s thighs to make space and Edward slides right in without hesitation, settling onto Stede’s lap and immediately shoving his face into his shoulder with an incoherent, garbling sound that Stede’s not entirely positive was even meant to be speech but rather just a distant registering of dismay at the early hour. Stede huffs out a pleased laugh at his predicament, slipping an arm around the new addition to his lap and hugging Ed.
“Good morning, my sweet ray of sunshine,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Edward’s temple.
His hair is still wet so he must have taken a shower before coming downstairs, and Stede swears that Ed is the only person he’s ever known to actually become more tired after a morning shower. He’s smelling sweetly of lavender today and Stede doesn’t bother to stifle his contented sigh, closing his eyes as he tries to take some advice his ex-wife once gave him and “live in the moment”.
He hadn’t been very good at that before. He ran away from an unhappy marriage, and eventually a bitter divorce, by throwing himself into his work, and it nearly got him killed when he was still at the office, alone, in the middle of the night. Stede can still recall the surprise on Edward’s face when he and Izzy stumbled across him in their sweep of the building.
“It’s almost midnight, mate. Why are you here and not at home?” he’d asked him. Stede never did give him an answer. Truthfully, he didn’t have one. He still doesn’t have one.
But he’s learning to be better. He stopped trying to manage his entire business alone and hired a good crew of people to help with the day to day aspects of running it. He works from home more frequently now, and the success of his company affords him the income to give Edward and Izzy the comfortable life they both deserve. At least, as comfortable as two overworked public servants can possibly be given that they’re too often exposed to the ugliest parts of the world as a matter of course.
Izzy was uncertain at first about giving up his and Ed’s apartment to move into the brand new house Stede bought for the three of them, but based on the way he’s sleeping comfortably on his shoulder right now Stede would say he’s moved past his apprehension.
“We were thinking of going to that diner Israel likes for breakfast. What are your thoughts, darling?” Stede hums, peering over them at the crossword still clutched in his hands.
There’s just one word left to fill in.
“Mmm, the one that makes the fuckin’... the faces, on the pancakes, with the whipped cream and shit?” Edward asks curiously before muffling a yawn in Stede’s shoulder. “Fuck yeah, I’m in.”
Izzy’s sigh is tired, but resigned. It’s the sigh of a man who has long since given up on getting Edward to eat even slightly healthy but certainly won’t pass up on the opportunity to at least register his complete and utter annoyance about it. Edward pointedly ignores him and his world weary sighs, choosing instead to beam pleasantly at Stede.
Stede taps his pencil on the page, frowning at the puzzle clue.
“Five letters, ‘an emotional state characterized by feelings of joy, satisfaction, contentment, and fulfillment’,” he reads out loud, absentmindedly tipping his head up when Edward nuzzles under his chin to kiss at his neck. “Second letter is an ‘A’.”
“‘Happy’.”
Izzy’s voice is rough with sleep and when Stede turns to look at him he’s got just the barest hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, his eyes puffy and face creased from napping on Stede’s shoulder but looking just as beautiful as Stede’s ever seen him.
“The word is ‘happy’.”
It takes Stede a moment to even remember the puzzle exists at all. He glances back down at it and carefully pencils in the letters, biting his lip when Ed huffs out a contented sigh into his throat before nuzzling back down into his chest.
The weight of their bodies on his lap. The gentle warmth of their breathing against his skin. The feeling of Edward’s fingers curling into the front of his shirt, and the playful brush of Izzy’s lips along his jawline.
The way Edward will order orange juice and egg whites only with his pancakes later, instead of the rash of bacon and sausage he truly wants, because he knows it makes Izzy just the slightest bit happier to see him taking some modest amount of care with his health. The red flush on Izzy’s cheeks when he catches Stede watching him as he walks around the apartment wearing only Stede’s old sweatshirt. Edward always making sure to at least text Stede to tell him he and Izzy are alright anytime their station responds to something particularly dangerous.
Sleepy mornings spent on the couch doing the crossword puzzle with his entire future wrapped up in his arms, wearing his clothes, and smelling sweetly of the soap he buys for them.
Oh, Stede thinks, tossing the newspaper onto the coffee table in favor of tightening his grip around Izzy and Edward. Oh, I see now.
“Happy.”
He smiles and presses a soft kiss to Izzy’s brow, then turns to do the same to Edward. They kiss one another too, and the three of them settle back into the couch to enjoy a few more contented moments together before they eventually go out to greet the day. There’s no rush, though. They have all the time in the world.
The word is ‘happy’.
“Yes, I dare say it is.”