Work Text:
Raindrops flick periodically against the glass window. Soft afternoon light pours through into the room, slightly muted by the grey clouds that have taken over the sky. You turn the page of your favorite book and take note of how soft the paper seems, worn by years of rereading. This is tranquility – unbroken peace, the world existing only for you in this moment.
However, when you hear the familiar clicking noise of the front door unlocking, you decide there’s enough space for Matty as well.
Matty loudly calls your name in declaration that he’s home now. You don’t respond, knowing he’ll find you in only a matter of seconds. Sure enough, Matty is standing in the doorway of your shared bedroom when you look up from your book the next moment. He walks over without a word and flops face-down on the bed. It leaves a few of his dark curls askew, drooping over his forehead. You smile to yourself at the scene, gentle light illuminating his features, and you can’t help but reach a hand over to tousle his hair. He looks soft and tired like this, disheveled hair and weary eyes from an extensive day of work paired with his large, brightly colored sweater. “Long day?” you ask.
He sinks himself deeper into the blankets and mattress. You can just barely make out his dark eyes looking up at you as he nods and gives a muffled, “Yeah, exhausting.”
At his words, you place a bookmark on your page and set the book on the bedside table. “Come here,” you say, shifting the blankets to create an open space next to you. Matty groans dramatically as he drags his body closer to you, but you know he’s been waiting for this all day. You’re still sitting up while he lays against you, his head nuzzling your side and arms reaching around your waist. Matty hums happily when your hands return to his head, gently massaging his scalp and threading your fingers through his hair.
You do this for a few minutes, letting Matty decompress. He practically purrs at your touch, and it’s no different when your hand travels from his head to his neck to his back, still massaging in small circles. “You feel like an angel,” he mumbles.
“That good?”
“Yeah.” You can hear his smile through his words. “My angel.”
Matty knows he can get anything he wants if he sweet talks you like this for long enough, so instead of dignifying a response, you lean down to kiss his head. You let your lips cover as much area as possible for good measure before breaking away, almost dizzy from the overwhelmingly comforting smell of Matty himself.
You lightly tap his shoulder and tug a bit on the collar of his sweater. No words need to be exchanged for Matty to adjust his position just enough to be able to slip out of his sweater, as well as the t-shirt underneath it. Immediately after, however, he curls back up next to you and grabs your wrist to guide you back to his skin. On any other day you would have been unable to keep down a suggestive remark at the sight of his muscles flexing and relaxing under your touch, but today you just shower him in gentle affection. You know it’s what he needs, and you’re the only person he wants it from.
The knots in his shoulders slowly undo themselves, and your nails lightly drag up and down his back. Matty’s breathing slows, falling into the familiar rhythmic pattern that tells you he’s fast asleep. You very carefully move his arm from your waist, trying not to wake him, then slide yourself down in bed to lay next to him. You’re nearly nose to nose with him, his warm breath just barely fanning across you, close enough for a stray curl to tickle your forehead. You can’t help but inch forward to kiss the tip of his nose. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth; you’re not sure if he’s really asleep now, but his arm snakes around you to pull you into his chest and you suppose you don’t care either way. You let Matty envelop you, his body and his warmth and his presence.
The rain falls harder now, and the sound mixed with Matty’s arms around you ultimately lull you to sleep. You drift in and out of sleep a few times, and each time you find your legs tangled with his, his arms still wrapped tightly around you. You’re sure that you’ve felt him leave small kisses on your shoulders as well.
It’s not until hours later that you finally wake to the feeling of Matty’s fingers tracing small shapes up and down your arms. His eyes, still hazy with sleep, are scanning you up and down, drinking in every detail of you in your unaware state. When your eyes flutter open, he gives you a guilty look, caught in a moment of self-indulgence. “Go back to sleep, love,” he whispers, placing his hand softly against your cheek.
You’re too tired to argue with this – not that you would have pushed back anyway. Falling into Matty’s touch feels like returning to a place undiscovered by anybody else, somewhere where the walls could protect you from anything, the lights will always stay on for you, the door will always be unlocked. Snuggling yourself close to him once again, you inhale and exhale deeply, as if you could breathe him in. You feel Matty press one last kiss to you just below your ear, accompanied by the words “I’ll be here when you wake, angel.”