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Face pressed into the soft, plush couch pillow, Jon could feel the way his eyes flickered under his eyelids, even as he struggled to keep them still. His eyelashes brushed his cheek, but as much as he tried to ignore them, his efforts only succeeded in making him even more painfully aware of them.
He turned his head, helpless to the time slipping away while he wasted it tossing and turning. He winced, feeling that wince down to his socked feet.
Eyes snapping open, he stared up at the ceiling, as wired and awake as he was twelve minutes ago.
“I’m doing something wrong,” he said at last.
Curled up beside him, Martin sighed, his breath brushing Jon's cheek. “What makes you say that?”
Turning towards Martin, whose eyes remained closed, Jon took in the quiet serenity of his face. “What am I even meant to be doing?”
“You’re not meant to be doing anything,” said Martin patiently, opening his eyes. “That’s the point. You’re meant to rest.”
Jon huffed, and a gentle smile curled Martin’s lips.
“Sorry,” said Martin, and Jon appreciated that he at least sounded like he meant it. “It takes a little practise, I guess.”
Practise? What sort of person needed practise to take a nap? Was Jon’s circadian rhythm truly so beyond repair he needed more time to understand the theory of a nap than a baby?
But it’s not as if Jon had ever been particularly good at falling asleep promptly. The glowing letters on his digital clock glaring at him in the dark had been a longtime companion of his. It’s why he preferred to just work himself past the point of exhaustion; much easier to fall asleep when he physically couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore.
When he'd said as much during their conversation on said topic yesterday, though, Martin had looked alarmed. Jon figured it was no small coincidence when, that afternoon, Martin had suggested they both take a little nap on the couch together. Let's take it easy, he'd said. As a treat, he'd said.
With a sigh, Jon settled back down. He’d promised he’d give this endeavour a real chance and he meant it. But he still retained the right to grumble and grouse.
“How is anyone expected to fall asleep within 20 minutes, anyway?” he said.
“You’re not supposed to fall asleep,” said Martin. “You’re supposed to almost fall asleep.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means what it means.” Martin dropped a kiss on his shoulder. “Now relax, my love.”
Jon could have snapped how little it helped him relax when being told he needed to relax, but the acerbic impulse was quickly soothed by the sound of Martin’s voice when he so tenderly said my love .
Releasing a long, slow breath of air, Jon turned back over onto his side. His back pressed into Martin’s chest as he rolled out his shoulders as he attempted to get comfortable again and just take a damn nap already.
He tried. He really did. He focused on his breathing, he tried to empty his mind, he counted bloody sheep for God’s sake, but none of it helped. If anything, it only keyed him up further until—
A gentle beeping sounded from the coffee table, and he groaned. “And now I’ve wasted our time.”
“You have not wasted our time,” Martin said as he reached across Jon to grab his phone. “Here. From the top.”
Jon watched silently as Martin reset the timer and fixed up their pillow, starting to feel that this was all rather pointless. Jon could have guessed as much at the start of all this, but Martin had been so earnest. How could he say no to what effectively amounted to a nice cuddle on the couch?
But Jon just hadn’t been built to relax. Not really.
Humming, Martin rubbed a soothing hand up and down Jon’s arm.
“Maybe let’s try thinking of it another way, yeah?” he said. “Instead of thinking of it as a nap, just think of it as … Martin and Jon’s lying down together time?”
Jon lifted a brow. Martin snorted.
“Could use some work but it gets the point across,” he said. “Not napping. Not even resting. This is us lying down with our eyes closed for 20 minutes. Can’t do that wrong, yeah?
“… I suppose I can’t,” Jon said, though if anyone could do it wrong, surely it would be him.
Smiling, Martin brushed a curl out of Jon’s face, dropping a kiss on his jaw. “Just be here with me, alright? Nothing else to it. Just you and me lying here together.”
Well. He supposed that sounded a bit more approachable than ordering himself to sleep in a timely fashion. So long as Martin truly didn’t expect anything else from him other than to lie here for a mere 20 minutes and let himself be cuddled, Jon could acquiesce.
Nodding, he closed his eyes. Martin dropped one last kiss on his shoulder and let his chin rest in the groove of Jon’s neck.
Jon let his mind wander. If he didn’t need to sleep, then he didn’t need to worry about emptying his chaotic head. He let himself think.
He thought about grocery shopping, mentally reviewing the checklist he’d made that morning for the pot roast he wanted to prepare. He thought about that new show they were going to watch now that Martin had finally figured out how to get the TV box to work. He thought about the leaves and their changing colours as he'd looked out the window while they'd eaten breakfast.
He thought about Martin’s body heat. He thought about the comforting pressure of his arm wrapped around his chest, and his warm breath brushing the back of Jon’s neck. He thought about the tea he’d made for Jon that morning and the way the mug had warmed his hands. He thought about when they'd woken up together in bed, Martin's hair mused and his eyes sleepy.
When the phone’s timer went off, Jon's eyes fluttered open, surprised. He didn’t feel as though he’d been woken up, but he also didn’t feel as though he'd just been lying there wide awake, either.
Reaching over to shut off the alarm, Martin smiled.
“You were a lot less tense this time,” he said. “I could feel it.”
“Yeah,” Jon said with a thoughtful hum. “Yeah, felt different.”
“Nap accomplished,” Martin said with a gentle pat on his arm, “Let’s have a cuppa and then we can run to the mart, alright?”
Almost regretfully, Jon rolled off the couch, stretching as Martin walked towards the kitchen. He felt good. A little groggy, but more energised, too. Mostly, he felt warm. He didn’t think it could feel like this. He didn't think he could actually relax.
Perhaps, he thought as he took the warm mug of tea from Martin with a smile, he wouldn’t be opposed to taking the idle nap again sometime in the future.