loficharm | morning / for john

dated: idk whenever

Martin certainly didn't used to wake up with such ease, rising naturally before any alarm he might set. Indicative first that he feels more relaxed here, that he actually enjoys his job, and now, unbelievably, joyously, that he has someone to wake up with. John is not an early or an easy riser, but Martin likes that just fine, as it allows him precious moments in the light of dawn to return quietly to consciousness, remember where he is and why he's so happy, to blink through the haze of whatever dreams he's already forgetting and see John beside him, resting, breathing slowly.

Martin likes to just look at him, but he knows that has a limited life span; John can always feel it when he's being watched, sooner or later. So more and more he finds other ways to rouse him, as gently as possible: a little kiss to the brow, a warm hand cradling the back of his neck or brushing through his hair. This morning, pulled by an inward surge of affection, he foregoes these gentler methods and just shuffles forward, wrapping an arm around the narrow hunch of John's shoulders and pulling himself close, positioned such that he can reverse their frequent arrangement, tucking his chin on top of John's head. He smiles and shuts his eyes as he feels John stir beneath him.

"G'morning," he says softly.

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The giggle is unexpected and entirely adorable, and John tips his head back and cracks his eyes open just enough to peer up at Martin, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "Mmhmm," he insists, turning his face into the bedspread and letting his eyes fall shut again as Martin repositions himself, his hand stilling until Martin has resettled before resuming its gentle work.

His smile widens as Martin traces his fingers over his cheek, and he mutters a playfully dubious, "If you say so." Then he blinks his eyes back open, gazing at Martin with unguarded fondness for a few moments before leaning forward to press a soft kiss against his lips.

Martin's smile widens for a moment before he relaxes into the kiss, returning it with as much tenderness as he can manage, his fingers still lingering lightly on John's cheek.

"I do," he says as they draw apart, his eyes flitting attentively over John's face. John's waking up now, which was the goal, but of course now the idea of actually getting up seems less important. Perhaps just a bit longer, lying here together, safe and warm and relaxed.

His eyes drift inevitably back down to John's lips and he leans in to kiss him again, soft and slow.

"You would," John mutters in response. He's awake enough to be aware of how absurd a turn the conversation is taking, but not nearly awake enough to care. Especially not when Martin leans in to kiss him again, lingering this time. John's hand stills for a moment, his focus centered on the soft press of Martin's lips against his own. Then the kiss breaks, and John shifts subtly, tipping down his chin to rest his forehead against Martin's.

"Could have a lie-in," he muses, his hand resuming its idle exploration, sliding over the curve of Martin's waist. He doesn't make the suggestion with any significant hope of being indulged — he knows Martin is an early riser by inclination as much as habit — but part of what makes the idea so enticing is its rarity. "It'd be fun," he tries anyway, gently nudging Martin's nose with his own.

"Mmh," Martin hums thoughtfully, his lips drawing back into a loose, lazy smile as John leans against him and puts forth his suggestion. He has nothing against the notion a lie-in, really; he loves cuddling, and he loves how relaxed John is before he's fully awakened. It's just once he's awake, he's quite awake, and he can get a bit antsy if he stays put too long, wanting to get up and get moving. The prospect of dozing back off is also a rather unwelcome one, as that only tends to ensure he's groggy and moody when he finally does get up.

But Christ, John so rarely asks for things, and he's so adorable now, nuzzling at him like that, trying to sell the idea as being fun... John makes so many concessions for Martin, and Martin can return that favor now, easily.

"All right," he says, fondly indulgent, and presses another kiss to John's brow before nestling closer against him. "Just this once."

Martin's eventual acquiescence surprises him a little, but John's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He just grins, humming in preemptive satisfaction as he resettles himself, all but burying his face against Martin's chest. Once he's comfortable, he puffs out a sigh and melts back down against the mattress.

It's all deliciously cozy, and with his arm draped around Martin's side, it doesn't take any real effort to curl his fingers in a gentle scritching motion along Martin's back. It's part thanks and, if he's being scrupulously honest, part drowsy, hopeful suggestion.

Martin grins and coos in soft delight as John scratches gently at his back, shifting a bit to draw him toward an actual itch. It doesn't take him long to realize John might be seeking some reciprocation, and he sweeps his own hand down the long arch of John's back, his smile growing soft and once more indulgent.

"Like that?" he says, seeking direction as well as approval as he returns the gesture along the ridge of one of John's shoulder blades, usual culprits in his experience.

The only response John can muster is a drowsy, affirmative hum, but he's reasonably sure Martin will understand it well enough. He wriggles a bit closer, giving Martin easier access to his own back as he continues to idly explore Martin's. He's starting to drift a bit, lulled by the warmth and by Martin's gentle ministrations, but he lets his mind wander in the general direction of any other itches Martin might have so that his hand might follow, alleviating them one by one.

morning / for john

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