soft // for John

[loficharm]

Martin is happy; he's happy so much of the time that it really isn't very novel anymore, that it's become a part of his normal, day-to-day existence. But even without being new, it is never dull; it will never be something he's inclined to take for granted.

It's been a pleasantly quiet evening after an ordinary workday; they've had dinner and are now settled onto the sofa, leaning against each other while John reads and Martin fidgets with his phone, idly seeking a podcast they might both enjoy. He might've gotten up to putter around and clean ages ago, but as he'd melted into a cozy slouch, The Bishop had seen fit to clamber onto him and curl up on his stomach, and that had been that.

He doesn't mind. The cat is warm and purring, and it means John has some absent occupation while remaining close, that he can pet The Bishop with one hand while holding the book in the other. It's really quite perfect.

And then The Bishop stirs, following his own inscrutable whims as he gets up and stretches in place, all of his weight now pressing down into the soft give of Martin's belly.

"Oh—" Martin winces as he waits for the cat to decide where to move. "Okay," he says, his voice a bit strained. "Yes, carry on, please."

The Bishop answers with an unconcerned trill and takes his time before deciding to move on, stepping down to the sofa and curling up on the other side of it instead. Martin huffs at the sudden release of pressure and laughs faintly. "He's chosen the sofa over me," he says, gazing at the little lump of cat; he looks like he's already falling asleep. "Don't know whether if I should be offended or not."

Comments

[statement_ends]

It isn't too long before Martin is leaning more heavily against him than mere comfort would suggest, his arms coming round him in a loose embrace. John really hadn't anticipated it being soothing enough to put Martin to sleep, though he supposes that's no bad thing. Winding Martin up is its own sort of fun, but the shine hasn't worn off the simpler pleasure of just making him happy, or helping him relax. Especially given how anxious and awkward things were a few minutes ago, this is an excellent change of pace.

Granted, the timing of it all could be better — it's just early enough that it feels a little absurd to suggest going to bed. But then again, it's not as if they had any other pressing business to attend to.

John leaves off stroking Martin's belly in favor of sliding his hands around to Martin's back, pulling him a bit closer. "Ready to turn in?" he asks, fond but laced with humor.

[loficharm]

Martin wrinkles his nose at the question, his eyes narrowing into a dubious squint, not that it's visible with him curled up like this. "'m wide awake," he protests. "Dunno what you're on about."

He could just fall asleep, though, and he has little motive to rouse himself at this point. And it's barely even dark out. Christ, this is embarrassing. He burrows in closer against John's chest and groans softly before he mumbles, "Would it be absolutely pathetic if I was?"

[statement_ends]

"I see," John says with all the gravity he can muster as he rubs Martin's back. "My mistake."

He can't help but smile at Martin's eventual amendment, though, and he presses another kiss to Martin's hair and gives him a gentle squeeze. "I don't think my sleep schedule permits me to throw any proverbial stones," he replies evenly. He gives Martin's back one last rub before bracing his hands on Martin's arms, ready to help him to his feet. "Come on, love, let's get you sorted," he says, coaxing Martin to his feet and then gently steering him towards the hall with an arm around his shoulders.