Work Text:
He sat in the corner, tired and dazed, perched in the office chair with a pronounced rip through the cushion. His eyes were watering from overuse and owned eye bags that hung like bats. Deimos was fitted in a baggy crumb-covered t-shirt and loose shorts, coupled with mitch match socks. He had been working all day, his laptop overheating with use. Sanford was frankly getting tired of hearing “almost done” or “in a minute”. It made him feel like a kid asking his parents if they were ‘there yet’ during a long drawn-out car ride.
Luckily, Sanford had courted a plan. One that would get Deimos off his sticky note-covered laptop and finally retire in his arms. Earlier, Sanford had made the last batch of lemon tea, Deimos’ favorite, so he poured a cup and carried it to their room. He made sure to walk loudly when he approached Deimos, so he wouldn't jump when he’d place the cup down and wrap his arms around him like a sloth.
Deimos paid little to no mind, only lightly relaxing into his husband's touch and leaning into him. “Love you too,” Deimos murmured, voice tinted sleepy. Sanford loved that voice. He placed a kiss on the soft of Deimos’ neck before he forced himself to retract, coming back momentarily to grab the bottom hem of Deimos’ shirt.
Before Deimos could question it, he felt the pull of fabric and Sanford’s head coming beneath it. “Ha- Sanford holy shit! Jebus you're cold, what have you been eating?” Sanford’s only response was to nuzzle against his back, ignoring back acne and overall sweetness from lack of shower. Deimos kinda smelled like gasoline.
“Mfph.. come to bed with me.” Sanford babbled against his skin. Deimos was trying not to giggle at the small vibrations Sanford left when he spoke.
“Normally I’d say yes, fuck this-” a hand was brought over to scratch at Sanford’s scalp through the shirt, “but I’ve been doing that all week and now Doc’s on my ass and I really need to finish this or he’s going to be pissed at me.” The scratching had developed into a light massage now, loving the sleepy mumbles he was getting.
Sanford understood work was necessary, often taking it more seriously than Deimos, but he could tell his husband was internally itching for a scenery change. Deimos wouldn't have been so easily distracted otherwise. Sanford retracted from underneath the shirt, ignoring small protests. It was then he swiftly took the laptop and held it high away.
Deimos raised a brow, “Hey-” but was secretly relieved when he watched Sanford plop down on their mattress, tinted yellow and without a frame. Sanford carefully sat the laptop to his side, then reached to snatch a blanket from the floor. He took a moment to straighten it, parachuting it to get all the crumbs off. When he was satisfied, Deimos loomed over him looking unimpressed.
“Work in bed?” Sanford tried.
A glare. “You're not going to get away with this.”
Sanfords lips tugged into a smile when he felt his husband fall in place beside him. “Sure Deeby.” Sanford lifted his arm momentarily to let Deimos sprawl out on his chest. Deimos pulled the laptop closer so he could work within reach. Once settled, Sanford was holding him like he was the most precious thing in the world.
Deimos’ hair was tickling his nose and smelling like ‘3 in 1’ soap. He was sure Deimos could hear his heartbeat from where he was at. God, when was the last time they relaxed like this?
At some point, Doc came in to turn the lights off since they needed to conserve power and whatnot. By the time Deimos was done, it was almost midnight. Sanford had stopped tracing little hearts into Deimos’ back, instead snoring away. So he shut his laptop swiftly, folding some of his sticky notes in the process and repositioning himself so his back wouldn't hurt in the morning.
His husband grumbled momentarily at the moment but welcomed him warmly with open arms.