Work Text:
Finch draped a blanket over his partner’s slumped form. Reese blinked awake at the added weight of the cover, but soon drifted off at the desk once more when it became clear that there was no imminent threat to be dealt with.
They’d endured a few long days. Reese hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep since the number came through, evidenced by the dark circles under his eyes and the sluggish movement when he’d awoken. The trust on display to let his guard down in Finch’s company and finally rest in this shared space was… Oh, it was enough to make his heart flutter with joy.
He sat down in his desk chair and returned to typing at the computer. Every now and again, though, he would glance over at Reese while he worked on their number’s leading threats. Finch wanted to imprint this intimate scene into his memory: Reese dozing into his arms as if they were a pillow, his barely audible breaths puffing against the suit jacket’s sleeves, and the tranquil expression—as much as it could be for the man, that is—upon his face.
Finch made the effort of typing a tad quieter. Warmth bloomed on his cheeks.