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Ray rolled over and squinted at the clock on his night-stand. It was barely 8:30. He shifted his position, rolling his shoulders and neck to work out the stiffness of sleeping like a rock in the same position all night. He looked over and watched his husband sleep peacefully.
He always appreciated moments like this, getting to see Mick rest after countless hours of heists and work; it seemed like the only time he actually got to have a break. His arms were lax, a soft snore entering then leaving his mouth. Ray’s eyes wandered down Mick’s neck to the beginnings of his scars. He’d gotten familiar with them, memorized every indentation and scratch by feel and sight. He’d repressed any notion of imagining what Mick would look like without them-- they were his. Earned, and embraced.
“Do you always watch me sleep?” Mick groaned, eyes still closed, and voice riddled with sleep. Ray felt a soft hot wash of embarrassment cover his cheeks as he laughed awkwardly.
“N-Not always.” Mick laughed softly at his reply. Ray felt his breath being taken away; Mick Rory, closed-off brute who does nothing for no-one… So comfortable and at peace in this moment.
“God, I love you.” Ray said before he could even really think about it. Mick’s eyes creeped open to look up at Ray.
“Mm, I love you too, Raymond,” Mick took his arm out from under the covers to grab his husband’s, “come back down here… It’s cold without you.”
Ray felt goosebumps run across his skin. That was a lie, Mick always overheated when they were under the covers together. But he felt that rush of trust and love wash over him. It was like falling in love all over again. He smiled, scooting down back underneath the covers, finding a comfortable place in his husband’s arms.
“You cold? Or am I just that good?” Mick smiled, running his hands over Ray’s goosebumps, looking him in the eyes. He responded with a laugh, his head falling carefully to bump with his partner’s forehead.
“You’re just that good.” Ray laughed, his hands finding their comfortable positions on Mick’s chest and shoulder. Mick didn’t respond, he hummed happily, taking his partner’s left hand placing it over his heart. “What’s gotten into you? You’re never this sappy or romantic unless something’s wrong or you want something.” Mick grunted, closing his eyes and thinking for a moment.
“... I don’t ever want to let go of you. I want to roll over every morning and see you laying there next to me, Ray. When I see you every morning, still here, still loving me… God, it makes me so happy. Genuine happy.” Mick opened his eyes to see some tears welling at the corners of his partner’s eyes. “I’m sorry-- I didn’t mean to--” Ray responded by pulling Mick in for a loving, full kiss. Mick laughed against his husband’s lips, pulling him as close to him as he could. He would never admit it, but he felt the beginnings of tears forming at his eyes as well. Ray pulled back, the once threatening tears now freely flowing down his face.
“I love you so much, Mick.” Ray beamed, kissing Mick briefly again before nuzzling his head in the crook of his husband’s neck. “And I’ll never let go, never.”
“Good.” Mick said softly, kissing the top of Ray’s head before closing his eyes back, his grip on his husband tight but comfortable. Ray hums happily, his left hand still on Mick’s heart.
“I love you too.”