Work Text:
Simon glared at his watch as he unlocked the door to his and John's apartment.
4:27a.m.
It had been at least two weeks since he had last seen John in person, just before he left for a mission. It was the first one he had been on without John in what seemed like forever, and the days had often dragged on without anyone there to (barely) tolerate his awful attempts at jokes. No time to give his lover a call or text, either. This was to be expected, of course, but Simon couldn't stop himself from being disappointed.
And so after roughly two long weeks without seeing or speaking to John, as well as all the other shit they had to endure on the mission, Simon was quite pissed off that the time Price had dismissed them at was so late that he ended up returning home at half fucking four in the morning.
He grumbled as he opened the door and stepped into the apartment, quickly throwing his backpack down and toeing his trainers off before observing his surroundings. Empty pizza boxes, beer cans and noodle cups were littered on and around the coffee table, mugs and cups filling the spaces that the trash did not. The scene reminded him somewhat of his apartment during the messy breakup with his last partner, and he let out a small humoured grunt before heading towards his bedroom.
When he entered their room he couldn't help but indulge himself in staring for a moment at his partner, smiling ever so slightly to himself. It was odd to see John asleep, especially after all the noise he made trying to open their shitty broken apartment door, but Simon figured he had taken his sleeping aids - for once. He quickly shuffled out of his pants and shirt, deciding to sleep in his boxers and vest, then walked over to the bed and crouched down next to where John's head was resting. He leaned closer to John's ear before speaking just barely above a whisper:
"Johnny, I'm home."
The sleeping man shifted around and grumbled, moving a hand to rub at his eyes for a moment before shifting his head in the direction of Simon's voice and opening one of them. "Mm, Ghost?"
The sleeping aids didn't work that well, then.
"Use my name, John. We're not at work," Simon chuckled quietly.
"Simon," John reached out to find his lover's face, sighing when he felt the fabric covering Simon's cheek. "Take off the mask and come to bed."
"Since you asked so nicely," Simon pulled his mask off and set it on their bedside table, itching the stubble on his chin as he did so. "Shuffle up for me, baby?"
John did as asked, patting the empty space next to him gently and opening up his arms for his lover to climb into. Simon happily joined him in bed, wriggling closer to the other man and placing a chaste kiss on his lips.
"Hurt?" John mumbled.
"Not much,"
"Mm.. goodnight, Simon."
"Goodnight, baby."
---
Simon was awoken by the feeling of fingers catching in his messy hair. Not wanting to ditch the best sleep he'd had in weeks just yet, he grumbled and buried his head into John's chest moreso than it already was. He was almost about to drift off again when he felt a hand carefully cup his jaw and run a thumb along the underside of it.
"You've not been shaving? My chest feels like its been mauled by a bear all night,"
Simon half-opened his eyes and looked up at his lover, then shook his head. "Not had time. Besides, why would I do it myself when I have a loving husband to do it for me?"
John rolled his eyes as he leaned down, kissing Simon's forehead before sitting up again and shifting his lover off his chest. "Ever the arse, aren't you?"
"I missed you too, Johnny."
The Scot climbed out of bed and looked down at his partner, watching as he replaced the space left by John's body with his pillow and shoved his face into it. John chuckled.
"Sleep until I'm out of the shower. I'm sorting your beard out after, though."
Simon simply grunted in response, wanting to get back to sleep as soon as possible.
---
"I don't understand why you have to do this today, I'm tired baby."
John pulled the razor away from Simon's face for a moment and glared down at him. "It's 3 in the fucking afternoon, Simon. You've slept enough, and haven't had a proper shave in 2 weeks. Didn't it get itchy under your mask?"
Simon shrugged. "Didn't have the time to think about it, really."
"Suppose that's fair,"
John shrugged and brought the razor back to his lover's face. He continued shaving from where he left off, careful in his movements as to not cut the man sat on a stool infront of him. Taking care of his lover's stubble was rather therapeutic in a way. It gave him something to focus on, easing his mind from whatever worries he may have, and also gave him an excuse to admire his lover as much as he wanted.
It was no secret that their jobs had them constantly on the cusp of death - they had no certainty of making it out of any mission alive, and so every moment spent together outside of work was a moment worth remembering. Small intimate events like helping Simon shave gave John the perfect opportunity to study his partner's face more personally, without the mask in the way. He wanted to make sure every blemish, every scar, every freckle, everything that made Simon himself - not Ghost - was firmly engraved into his memory. Just in case.
They should probably retire soon.
John let a small smile grace his lips as he was swept up in his own thoughts of Simon, not realising he was staring at the man.
"Take a picture. It'll last longer."
He rolled his eyes, still smiling. "I might have to take you up on that offer, pretty boy."
Simon shifted his head slightly. "You think I'm pretty?"
"Of course I do, why do you think I ask you to take the mask off all of the time?" he gently pushed Simon's head back to where it was before he moved.
"You're going soft on me, baby," Simon looked up at his husband and allowed himself a rare smile.
"Maybe I am. We should retire," John leaned down to kiss the taller man gently on the lips before retreating to his previous position. He then grabbed Simon's jaw and held it firmly as he continued to shave the Englishman. "Now stop fucking moving. I'll end up cutting you,"
"That's nothing I'm not used to," Simon chuckled, then paused for a moment to think. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he responded.
"Retirement would be nice, Johnny."