loficharm | Return // for John

November 9th, 2020

Martin wakes, gently this time, though still without much reason. His eyes flutter open and he gazes at the ceiling for a while, letting his thoughts untangle themselves naturally. He remembers — he remembers all of it, being a child, his fear and confusion and frustration with the whole predicament. There are still traces of anxiety in him from how he'd felt falling asleep, not sure this would work, wearing big clothes because they promised, they all promised he'd wake up grown, not sure he wanted that. John so quiet beside him, and Martin wanting so badly to talk to him but not knowing what to say.

None of it feels distant — it is still very close, fresh in his mind, an odd set of memories to have so clearly built into his own history. It happened yesterday, but it also feels like it happened amidst a childhood that has no space for it. It's a bizarre sensation, but it doesn't really bother him. Mostly he feels light, as if relieved of a burden he didn't realize he was carrying. He's himself again, the memories intact and now gradually flooding with context. All of it taking on new meaning to him now: how good Eliot and Kat and Daisy were to them. How kind Saoirse and Luke and Greta had been. And John...

He lets his head tip gently to the side, a warm smile touching his lips as he sees John beside him, his usual self, still asleep and breathing softly. Martin makes no move toward him and has no desire to speak, to rouse him unnaturally. He feels almost suspended there, appreciating the sight of John as he hadn't been able to before, when John had returned to him after his stint as a cat. And he hadn't even known he was missing. That they both were.

John looks so beautiful and so content, and Martin is pretty sure he could just lie here and look at him for hours, never saying a word, not needing to.

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Martin giggles at John's wry reproach, softening into a contented hum when John nuzzles against him all cat-like.

"Hullo there," he says, before awkwardly scooting down to get more on an even level with John. Sweet as this configuration is, Martin wants to look into his eyes, wants to kiss him some more. Might want all sorts of things, if he lets his mind wander.

Re-situated, he smiles softly and presses in to kiss him once more, gentle and affectionate. "Hello," he says again, whispered between breaths.

John's gaze warms as Martin scoots down to match him. It puts them both down below the pillows, and he has the brief idea of just ducking under the covers entirely — a childish impulse that might be a holdover from the previous week. But there's nothing childish about the kiss Martin bestows upon him, sweet and gentle as it may be, and John hums quietly against Martin's lips. Christ, he's missed this. The sentiment may be technically inaccurate, but it's still true.

"Hello, yourself," he murmurs, letting his hand wander, as if he needs to reacquaint himself with the well-traveled territory of Martin's back and sides and belly. He hasn't really forgotten, but it's an enjoyable journey, and his palm slides along Martin's waist as he leans in to return the kiss, slow and lingering.

Martin lets his eyes fall shut, his smile broadening into the beginnings of a laugh when John's hand drifts over his belly and waist. He only huffs softly, but there is no concealing his delight as he parts his lips against John's, as he starts to shift gently.

"Mmh," he sighs, drawing back and blinking his eyes back open. His gaze wanders over the edges of John's face as if restoring his memory of it, and then he reaches up with one hand to brush his fingertips delicately over John's cheek. "I know it's not right to say I missed this, but..." He trails off, his lips curling into a smile once again.

John hums softly, both in response to the gentle touch and in wry acknowledgment as Martin voices the thing they've both evidently been thinking. Neither of them were in a position to miss adulthood, but this still feels like returning home after an unanticipated journey. And there are simple pleasures he's looking forward to indulging, much as one might appreciate the familiar comfort of a favorite chair after days on the road.

He rather suspects Martin is of a similar mind there, as well, if his subtle shifting is anything to go by. John's smile widens as his hand drifts back up Martin's side, and one eyebrow arches as he asks, "Anything else you've missed?"

Martin grins and stifles a giggle, which drops easily into a soft sigh as John's hand brushes back up his side. "Well, now that you mention it..." he murmurs, letting himself trail off a bit suggestively as he leans in close to nuzzle against John's neck.

There are so many things he could say he'd have missed, if he'd known to miss them. The soft look in John's eyes, the mischievous curve of his smile, the deep rumble of his voice — all the rougher from sleep — and especially the gentle touch of his long fingers. They've already indulged themselves this far, and as he nestles close, breathing John in, Martin can't think of a single reason why they should stop.

Edited 2021-04-25 04:27 (UTC)

There's really no mistaking the insinuation, though given how tidily John set it up, he's not the least bit surprised. He chuckles softly as Martin nuzzles against him, turning just enough to press a kiss to Martin's sleep-mussed hair.

"Did you have anything... specific in mind?" John asks, his hand skating back down Martin's side until it's low enough for him to insinuate his thumb beneath the hem of Martin's shirt and rub a gentle arc against his skin. "Any requests?"

"Mmh," is all Martin has to say at first, his eyes slipping shut as John touches him, even something so light and small feeling wonderfully potent and almost scandalous. It has, regardless of their odd week, been a little while since they did this, just fooled around in bed before getting up, and he does rather miss it.

"I can think of a few," he says, his voice going very soft and his eyes opening just enough to peer at John through a big warm smile. "Suppose it might make us a bit late to work, but seeing as we answer to me..."

His voice catches, partly from a slight hitching breath as John continues to brush his thumb along Martin's side, but that small moment is enough to break his concentration, just enough to wake him up to the detail they both managed to forget.

Daisy is in the other bloody room. They hadn't wanted to go to sleep alone, hadn't been able to just trust they'd wake up grown and knowing what to do. She wouldn't have left them for anything, so she is still out there, acute senses, early hours, and all.

"Oh, fuck," he blurts, looking immediately mortified.

Return // for John

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