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There are days where the morning light is unwelcome. Nights, where there is little to no sleep, eyes are bloodshot from casework, and hands are jittery from caffeine and cigarettes. There are days where the morning light is a cruel reminder that time is passing too quickly, not enough work has been finished, and damn it- sleep would have been a wonderful thing. There are also days, though, where the sunlight filtering through the curtains is desirable. Nights where there are no cases to work, eyes are bright, sleep comes on time, and hands caress bare skin. There are days where the morning light serves as a reminder that he is not alone, and that nobody would be more welcome in his life than the person who is sleeping beside him.
A spends several seconds staring at the window curtains, blinking sleep away. He is contemplating what they should do for breakfast, when-
“I can see your eyes are open.”
He sighs. His body is warm under all the blankets, the patch of sunlight only serving to make the warmth more comforting. He can now feel the weight of a boney shoulder pressing up against him, the tickle of breath ghosting across his neck. Beyond’s arm reaches around him, pulls him closer. Another sigh and Asa is rolled onto his back. “Hmmmph.” That's all comes out of his mouth, followed by a stifled yawn—it’s still too early for words.
B hangs over him, and A notices how the sleep doesn't seem to linger in his eyes, and he notices that the sun is framing B's face, like a halo. His hair somehow looks perfect, as messy as it is, because he always looks so damn perfect—and it's sort of frustrating. B smiles so brightly, so … fondly, gaze flitting up, down and then back to meet A’s soft brown eyes- and it makes his stomach squirm. He'd thought that after a few years, the butterflies would die off. B leans down and presses his lips to A’s, and his mouth is soft and warm and, just a little bit wet, and Asa sighs again, for a different reason now.
When B opens his mouth, A’s mouth opens too, as receptive as ever, almost an automatic response at this point. His defenses are down and Beyond moves so carefully in the morning, with a sense of delicacy and grace that seems to wear off throughout the day. He’s gentle, with a swipe of his tongue in A’s mouth, and their warm breath mingles around his nose, and the two of them don’t usually get a lot of gentle. Asa shuts his eyes. This feels good, even with the morning breath. He can hear himself groan, content, a soft mmm, as Beyond climbs over him, an arm on either side of his head, a leg on either side of his hips.
B lifts his head up and murmurs into A's mouth, sounding happy. “You’re so calm and relaxed today.”
And then something pokes A's hipbone, and it makes his stomach do a cartwheel. He opens his eyes, and yes, B’s face is a little.. pinker than it had been, and yes, that’s definitely… “It's not even 8AM.” He can hear the tiredness, and the annoyance, in his own voice.
“I woke up this way,” Beyond practically whines, ducking his head toward A’s neck, sweetly— and Asa turns away, locks his eyes back on the curtains. He'd like to think that at this point he’s immune to the manipulation of puppy eyes and soft pleading. For the most part.
“You're gross, B.”
“I was gonna.. go—in the shower—but I thought maybe, you'd wake up...” And he gives B the stupidest look ever, those puppy eyes and a lopsided grin. So hopeful. He lifts his hand to palm the side of A’s face, and with how the sunlight comes through the window above the bed haloing him, making him glow like some stupd raven haired sex angel, bestowed with the gift of cuteness and really stiff dick, A can't help it.
He sort of hates it, hates himself for it but, his self-control starts to give up slowly, slower than the rest of him—and when Beyond pushes away the covers and settles onto his knees over Asa’s hips, and his hard-on nudges A's boxers, he’s not surprised to feel his own dick twitch in his shorts. B leans into A's neck and sighs in what sounds like frustration, as though he can barely contain himself. A swallows hard. Why does his boyfriend have to be like that? Annoying, and so perfect.
“You’re so fucking needy.” He growls. Or tries to growl. It's early, and his voice comes out breathier than he'd intended.
“Would you want me if I weren't?” B asks softly, teasing him, and he's straightening up to sit back on A’s thighs. The bulge in his underwear is… it's there, alright, and A has to turn his head and blink away the recollection of what it is to have Beyond inside him, or else he starts feeling some sort of... empty. He can’t let B see that hunger, not even a flicker of it, or he’ll offer his fingers and his tongue and his cock to fill him up and he will have won. A always lets B win, but never so easily. Old rivalries, and all that.
And then B takes off his shirt.
“Prick..” A mumbles. Always so damn perfect.
Beyond giggles, the most annoying and endearing sound that Asa knows, and pushes the dark bangs out of his eyes, does the same for A, gently brushing the strands of hair from his forehead.
“I love how you look like this. I love when I can look into your eyes, though..” If he had the energy, A would tell him that he’s a dirty flirt with cheesy lines, but maybe he doesn’t have the right to criticize. After all, he always lets B win. After all, he lets B kiss him—lifts his head so their lips can meet sooner, actually. Beyond drags A's bottom lip through his teeth and A’s brow furrows. He's still so sleepy, but he thinks that, yes, there are days where the morning light is a welcome sight indeed.
“I hate that this works on me.”
B dips toward his ear, voice threatening to bubble into those horrific giggles at any moment- “You’re so sexy, Asa. I can’t get enough. I need you.” And he grinds the front of his boxers against the front of A’s, in a slow taunting circle, the fucking asshole that he is… “Please let me touch you, Asa.” And yes, he giggles.
“Do it.”
When Beyond laughs again, A gasps, with a bit more urgency. “Please, I’m serious.” B leans back to look at him, the amusement still playing around his lips, but now he seems—surprised. Delighted. He’s stopped grinding down against him long enough for Asa to register how hard he’s become, and his face burns, and it makes him turn his head in embarrassment once more.
Fingers brush his chin sweetly. B turns A's head back, forces eye contact. The smile is gone, replaced with something more primal and needy. “I’m serious too, you know.” He says it in a low voice, sending a pulse to A’s cock. “It just sounds weird to admit it sometimes.” His dark eyes eye up the sight of A’s chest. “You look hot. Can we get you out of those shorts?”
“I’m too sleepy.” A says, giving him a reluctant squint to challenge him, even though his defeat has become obvious.
“I’ll do all the work, love.” Such a prick, but A can’t pretend he has a problem with it. He sets the side of his face into the pillow. Fine.
“Not too fast.”
B squeals excitedly, and his hands latch on to edges of A's boxers. “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”
A’s reply is a deep blush. There’s some sort of.. arousing quality to those words, to surrendering himself to Beyond’s actions. He lets himself be pulled up and off the bed enough to tug his underwear down his legs, lobbed across the room, where it can never come between them again. Not being fully awake, he has limited awareness of his body, so when B starts pressing his lips to Asa’s chest it stirs his skin awake. The shiny patches of saliva turn cold, and he shivers. This is the nice part—one of many, he supposes—about being together for a long time. It's been years, and they've come quite a long way since that orphanage. He doesn’t have to say anything, Beyond just… knows what to do with him.
B moves his face down just enough to start sucking on the inside of A's hip, the hyper sensitive skin there prickling at the start of a bruise, before the sensation goes to his dick. For the first time since Beyond started bothering him, the auburn haired young man makes a noise he’s not quite proud of—a quiet moan that cracks in his throat, cracks the still silence of the morning. His eyes have shut but he can feel B suck harder, brush his teeth against wet skin, and then he starts massaging A’s thighs with his thumbs. He likes the noise, A knows, even in early hours when it seems like everything should be quiet and calm. Nothing B does can ever really be described as quiet or calm, though.
There’s a pull at his skin and a rush of warmth against his erection, something wet, and he manages to pry open his eyes and glance down. The brightness of the image surprises him, he isn’t used to doing this with daylight still in the window, where he can see… everything- Beyond gripping the base of his cock and looking him straight in the eye as he slips his tongue under the foreskin, lapping up the droplets of precum formed there. A has kept his hands gripped into the sheets at his sides until now, but he can’t resist threading his fingers into B’s hair, not when he knows how soft it is and how B will hum happily at the touch. And he does hum, his gaze going half-lidded as he continues to eagerly lick up Asa’s shaft, humming the same way he does while solving a case and, and A can feel thevibrations, so he laughs—it turns into a groan when Beyond lays his tongue against the underside of his cock—but he does, he laughs at the way Beyond has always refused to be anyone other than himself.
The hand drops away from his cock and there’s a firm squeeze to his balls as B sits up, reaching for the bedside table with his free hand, but it's just a bit too far away. Sighing, A grabs his arm and pushes him back lightly. “I’ll get it. You just have to make breakfast.”
B gives him an incredible glare, mouth opening to reject this idea, but before he can speak-
“You said I wouldn’t have to do any work.”
“You reaching for lube, and me making you breakfast, is not exactly an equal exchange.”
Unmoved by the protest, Asa blinks up at him. He's trying to show Beyond how tired he is, but it comes across as anger, and B flinches back, leading A to sigh.
He twists himself up and fishes through the nightstand until he finds a small bottle. He presses it into B’s hands and settles back into the pillow with a small smile. “You complain a lot for someone who had to beg for sex.”
B’s eyes flash, serious, and the grin flees from A’s face. He gulps as Beyond leans forward, trapping A’s head between his arms. It’s enough to make A lightheaded, the intensity in his expression and the way his voice drops to a growl when he gets like this. “You know I didn’t have to beg, Asa.” When he pulls away, A draws in a deep breath. Normally he's keeping score, but something tells him that today is just going to be a tie.
B opens the bottle, dousing two fingers in the gooey liquid and running a hand up A's length. "You really are adorable when you're tired." He says it so... conversationally, as if they're just sitting in bed and their dicks aren't out, and they're about to cuddle or something innocent, rather than this.
Asa gasps when a cold and wet finger circles the muscle around his entrance and he sees Beyond smirking above him.
“You're so easygoing and relaxed when it's early. We should wake up like this more often."
“Do you have to talk so m—hhhn.” He loses coherence to the finger slipping inside his ass. It’s not unfamiliar by any means, but it always takes a bit of getting used to.
“I like talking,” Beyond pouts, as though he didn’t punctuate the sentence by driving his finger deeper into A. “Like, it’s fun because, I can just tell .. just how overwhelmed you are, compared to me.” All the way in now, and A groans into the pillow. “I like it. I love it. When you’re overwhelmed this way.” He shifts the finger and curls it, and he hits the spot with pinpoint accuracy, the kind he uses to look at details in a case, but has repurposed now in a way that makes Asa’s back arch just slightly off the bed. A groans through his teeth as the finger massages, making his eyes water, making his cock leak, and suddenly B has dipped down again to take him in his mouth, sucking the tip of his cock to distract him from the addition of another finger.
A has started swearing under his breath, but he can’t really hear it, which, in combination with the increasing heat in his crotch, informs him that he’s about to come.
Beyond has two fucking fingers rubbing at his prostate, and his lips are sneaking up his shaft, steadily taking in more. Of course A comes. Of course it's over that quickly.
In the moments after the orgasm, temporarily rendering him useless to the world, he’s swarmed with guilt, realizing he’d shot off in several spurts right down B’s throat, and thrust into his mouth pretty hard while he was at it, which he knows doesn’t feel great. B's done it to him enough, after all.
"Sorry.." A mumbles his apology and finally looks down to Beyond, meets his gaze. B is grinning at him, licking his lips like a dog, and he slides his fingers out with a disgusting squelch sound. Thank god B doesn't lick those too. "Are you..?"
Beyond makes sure to keep the smile on his face when he nods. “I swallowed everything.”
“Sorry.. I didn’t mean…”
“No, it’s okay, I like when you surprise me.” And he sits there, completely still, smiling and blinking, and he might as well twiddle his thumbs, because it’s so obvious he’s waiting for A to give him the go-ahead.
Asa flops back to the pillow and exhales. “Go on already.”
Almost immediately, Beyond is sucking his cock again, which wasn’t what A had expected, but maybe he doesn’t want to make love to a man with a flaccid dick, and that's fairly understandable. And his determination works, because A can feel the blood going to his groin again. B sucks, and licks, and generally dotes on him until he’s half-hard again, and then his fingers are back, one and then two, with less of an pause between them this time. The orgasm has washed out what little tension remained in A's muscles and he takes the third finger with a strange ease, focusing instead on his breathing and the wetness of B’s tongue on his slit. B alternates scissoring him and rubbing slow circles around his prostate, more hesitant than before. It's just enough to get A hard, to keep him toeing around the edge of bliss.
"You're so relaxed.." Beyond coos.
“BB…” It’s a whine. A doesn't use that nickname unless he needs it. B’s mouth releases him but his fingers don’t stop the slow movements.
“What is it?” His voice settles over A as soft as the comforter, as warm as the sun through the window above them. How fucking annoying. How fucking perfect.
“Come on.”
“Alright, alright.” A feels lips against his forehead, keeps his eyes closed and lets his mouth twitch into a smile. “I won’t tease you anymore.” He slips his fingers free and A hisses at the emptiness, but it’s only for a moment, because he knows what's coming, and how much better it will be. He lets his eyes flutter open to watch Beyond, giving A a stupidly loving smile, and the light catches his hair and his face and Asa thinks, holy fuck. He feels himself melting into the bed when B climbs over him. I’m so happy right now. What the fuck. How the fuck did we get like this. He opens his mouth, like he might even tell B how wonderful he is, but then B is on his lips, pressing them into a bruising kiss, messy and passionate like only Beyond could make it. Tears well at the corner of A’s eyes because something has clicked inside—on a warm Monday morning, light filtering through the window, he has discovered the meaning of life in a simple moment and it sounds, it sounds so wildly overdramatic and sappy and the worst kind of cliche to think so but the fact is—it’s just a Monday morning. He can hear the traffic outside in the street, and the hotel goers around and above them, and when he and Beyond are finished, they will share coffee and make breakfast, and maybe look for their next case, like this was nothing. And it is just that, this is nothing. But because nothing has become everything, he knows he has a good life. There are days where the morning light isn't very welcome, but today isn't one of those days.
Beyond pushes inside him and they both moan. A tries to stay calm, relaxed, the way B seems to love him so much, but, A gets overwhelmed sometimes. A thumb strokes his cheek. B is looking down at him, and his other hand is massaging around the top of A’s thigh and his ass, encouraging him to loosen up. “You'll tell me if it's too much, right?”
A sucks in a few more breaths and then his heart starts to beat evenly again; with it goes the remainder of his tension. “It’s fine. I'm fine.” Beyond pushes in another inch or two and A’s hands fly to his shoulders, holding on to him tightly. B groans deeply—the most obvious noise of pleasure he has made this morning. His eyes have fallen shut and A wants more of it, more of him, more of that sound. B pushes deeper and A brims with him. Hips meet ass, and that’s it, that’s all of him, and they stay like that for a long minute—A letting his head fall back into the pillow, B’s arms trembling to hold himself up. Both are panting.
A is as ready as he’ll ever be when B starts pulling out, the weight against him vacating only to be filled again a moment later as he pushes back in.
“Up. More…” He can hear how stupid and desperate he sounds, but it’s the best his brain has to offer with the sensory overload, and Beyond takes the hint (shit), nudges A's hips up, then stuffs a large pillow under them.
This is perfect. Maybe too perfect—A chokes on his own saliva a little at the next thrust, which firmly presses into his prostate. B takes it as a sign to give a little more.
So he does, starting a rhythm inside A, steady and confident. A can feel that he wants to go faster, to do more, that’s just in B's nature. But, because he is a good partner, and he knows A doesn't even like sex much, he keeps it gentle and he feels fucking incredible like this. Perfect cock, perfect angle, perfect pace. A’s mind starts to white out, to fade into a buzzing pleasure. His voice rumbles in his chest and throat and the challenging silence he’s maintained through all this fades away, so he hopes Beyond enjoys it, because he’s too blissed out to hear himself talking in mumbled groans. His vision has clouded, too, but he can still make out the halo around B’s head and the curved muscles of his arms and chest flinching with his effort. And... and he feels fucking incredible like this.
A thinks he might die, what with the way his heart is beating, but it wouldn’t be a bad way to go, all things considered. Sure, there’s a dick in his ass, but he loves that dick a whole lot. And it would be just like him, too. RIP Asa Croft, the world's greatest detective, who died as he lived- feeling way too much for one person to feel.
B thrusts just a bit harder, and every nerve-ending in A's body lights up, and he’s harder than ever though he’s barely been touched, the heat coiling in his abdomen. He finally catches some of the words dripping from his lips: B, Beyond, more. The pressure on his prostate is perfect, and there’s a rough hand wrapping around his cock and pumping him in time with the thrusts, and that is perfect. He has no idea what his hands are up to anymore and he’s getting close enough that he can feel it in his cock, feel it in his head, in his body tensing and—
There. Holy shit. It wipes out his power of thought and.. (and it takes a lot to do that).
The hand falls away from his cock as he comes on B’s stomach. He can hear nothing and he can see only the face above him, wonder in his dark eyes, like he has just discovered something new and amazing. Naturally he tenses all over, including clenching down on B and in spite of his complaining about this, a strangled whimper rings out above him, followed by a couple of hard thrusts against his ass. They’ve come together. That doesn’t happen often, or even at all.
He can feel his mouth doing something bizarre as his cock twitches against his stomach, in aftershock. Smiling, he realizes. He’s smiling, except it’s a sort of weird, flinching smile. The kind of smile only B gets to see. Over him Beyond’s head hangs low, his shoulders shaking as he murmurs unintelligibly. Finally Asa can focus enough on his hearing to understand him.
It’s the same word over and over: “Wow. Wow… wow.”
“What?” A asks quietly, and B looks up at him. His mouth is open, spit on his bottom lip.
He doesn’t answer, not in words, but lunges for A’s mouth—he can’t reach, so he pulls out, and he's back on him, and without thinking A sits up to meet him. They kiss passionately, disgustingly, teeth bumping against one another. His ass aches. They both smell like sweat and shit and cum. But it’s not important, B is in his lap, his arms are around his neck.
“What was that about?” B says into A’s mouth, breathless. “I just wanted morning sex, and you- B, Beyond, more.” Unable to express himself properly, he waves his hand in the air, grins.
And A shrugs and kisses Beyond’s cheek, then starts squirming out from under him. “Come on, you have to make me breakfast, don't you?”
Yes, there are days where the morning light is beautiful to wake up to, but it's nothing compared to waking up the man beside him.