Work Text:
Simon was still working. He wasn't doing any hero work, no he'd returned from that several hours ago, what he was doing though, was combing through case files. He had a trial in the coming weeks, and desperately wanted to be prepared for anything the opposition's lawyer threw at him.
You admired his work ethic, you really did, but it was long past dinner, you'd put his portion in the fridge almost an hour ago, and at this point you were ready for bed.
You could have just gone to bed, and Simon would have joined you when he finished, but you'd been together so long that at this point you couldn't seem to sleep without him. You didn't feel like getting ready for bed, and then spending another hour or more staring at the ceiling waiting for Simon.
This train of thought led you to standing in the doorway of his home office, watching him look between the screen of his laptop, and the file in his hand.
“Simon?” You called softly.
No response.
“Sweetheart?” You tried again.
Once again, absolutely nothing. You shook your head, laughing to yourself.
“Simon!” You said, louder this time.
He looked up, brows furrowed in confusion, waiting for you to clarify why you nearly shouted his name.
“It's time for bed,” was all you offered to explain yourself.
He nodded, setting down his papers to open his arms for a hug, expecting you to say goodnight and make your way to the bedroom.
You shook your head, and he dropped his arms, “I want you to come to bed too,” you said, the barest hint of a pout on your face.
“Sweetheart-” he started.
“No, I'm tired, and I can't sleep in our bed without you,” you cut him off before he could finish.
You looked annoyed with him, so he had to bite back a smile at just how cute that sounded (later he'd quietly feel guilty about all the late nights he spent working, while you laid awake in bed waiting for him, but he hadn't put two and two together yet).
He needed a solution that would work for both of you, because he needed another hour or two to work, and you looked as though you desperately needed some rest. After a long moment of silence, he had it! The perfect solution, he opened his arms again, “Come here, darling,” he offered gently.
When you went to protest, he shook his head, and patted his thigh. He was offering to let you curl up in his lap while he worked. You practically leapt at his offer, quickly climbing into his lap, your face pressed into the crook of his neck, curled as close to him as possible. One of Simon's arms wrapped around you, keeping you close and making sure you didn't fall, the other turned down his desk lamp, before he went back to his files.
You had settled so fast, but to help you rest easily, Simon began reading aloud, knowing that you loved his voice, often asking him to read to you after long days. You hummed in contentment, smiling softly to yourself as you listened, less to what he was saying, and more to his voice as a whole. You slowly dozed off, Simon could tell because your breathing slowed, and you leaned more heavily into him, he kept reading though, not wanting to wake you by suddenly going quiet.
Much later, not that you'd know it, Simon would carry you to bed, tucking you in gently, and curling up behind you. He'd keep you in his arms, pulled close to his chest, and that is where you'd wake up the following morning, a smile on your face- knowing just how much he loved you.