Work Text:
By the time Solomon made it to his room, John was well asleep. Unfortunately, Solomon, having assumed that the clock reading 9:08 pm would mean that his neurotic bundle of “I can’t possibly go to sleep, Solomon, I’ve still got a full to-do list” (despite the to-do list being tomorrow’s and today’s having been long completed) would still be awake and tip-tapping away on his calculator, had not accounted for John’s comatose state when entering the room.
So when Solomon entered the room by slamming the door open and huffing, “I can't believe Hickey would even think to try to call me after all he put me through,” John started awake, rolling over to blink sleepily at Solomon.
“Hm?”
Solomon’s stomach did a funny flip at the sight of John looking up at him with heavy eyes, his hair mussed and the blankets curled tightly around him. John was a notorious insomniac, going to bed far later than advised for the sake of managing one more client (though it was never just one, John was physically incapable of cutting himself off. More than once, during tax season, Solomon had found him working in the morning, still wearing last night's clothes). He also woke up alarmingly early. Even on the weekends, when he (technically) didn't have any work. So it was incredibly rare that Solomon got to see John like this, all bleary-eyed and soft and so, so adorable. Not that John wasn't the cutest thing Solomon had ever seen all the time, but like this, Sol thought he might melt. “Nothing, pet. Go back to sleep.”
John mumbled something into the pillow.
“Didn't catch that, love.” Sol smiled softly at his boyfriend as he spoke, because it was impossible to look at John like this and not smile.
“Come cuddle me,” John mumbled, slightly more clearly. “Please?”
Solomon really needed to deal with this call from Hickey. The court case was still ongoing, though John had finished the accounting part of the situation (and wasn't that a meet cute for the ages, Solomon having hired John for the accounting after Hickey cleared out his accounts and the two of them falling in love over zoom calls and coffees that John generously sponsored). But how could he look at his beautiful, sleepy, cozy boyfriend and be anything other than completely indulgent of him?
“Okay,” Sol whispered, kicking off his shoes and sliding into bed behind John, pulling John’s warm body close to his, John’s back to his chest, their legs tangling together as Sol pressed a kiss to John’s flushed cheek. John let out a contented little hum and snuggled back towards Sol, his flannel matching pajamas (and wasn't that adorable, Sol was practically dating a grandpa, but he couldn't help but get sappy about the way John liked to get cozy and warm before heading off to his very limited sleep) pressing against Sol’s worn t shirt and jogging shorts.
“You're warm,” John murmured, and Solomon squeezed him gently. “Cozy.”
“You're warmer and cozier,” Sol whispered back, and it was the sappiest shit he never would have gone for, before a bright-eyed accountant with a soft smile and a brilliant way of looking at the world pulled him close and never let go. And right now, holding John close, Sol was damn sure he’d never be the one to pull away.