Work Text:
Jack has had a morning routine for as long as he can remember:
When he was a boy, his mother would softly shake him awake and press a kiss to his brow, and he knew it was 7:00AM. And he knew that after he got through with his shower, breakfast would be waiting for him--on Friday, a mug of hot cocoa with 8 mini marshmallows would accompany it--his father seated across from him in the chair with the sugar packet under its left-front leg, his mother beside him with a steaming mug of coffee warming her hands.
When he joined the military, the harsh buzz of his alarm at 4:15AM had him climb groggily out of bed, mindlessly shower, and brush his teeth, and through the thin walls of the barracks shared with his brothers in arms, he would hear the tell-tale buzz of the television turned on. And he knew it was 4:45AM, and that he would never see the end of the sitcom episode or he’d be late to his post.
When he was hailed a war hero, he would jolt awake with a start, chest heaving, body drenched in sweat, eyes wild and staring unseeing in the darkness, and he knew it was 2:00AM. He would tear the thin sheets from his body as he sat up, heart racing, before hunching over and holding his head in his hands. He sobbed for his friends, hurt or worse; for the boy crushed under the rubble, hand reaching heavenward, unanswered; for young men and women yet to come who naively wish for glory in war; for himself.
A warm summer breeze blows through the open window, cheerful birdsong carried with it, as it billows the sheer curtains. Jack nuzzles his pillow as his sleep-fogged mind clears, and he hears the soft thunk of ceramic on wood before the bed dips beside him. He feels a warm hand on his back, lips pressing a lingering kiss to his shoulder, before he opens his eyes. He blinks them blearily, bringing his world into focus.
Gabriel sees he’s awake and presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “Coffee’s ready.”
Jack lets out a soft hum as he stretches before letting his body relax again. “Time is it?” he asks, voice rough from sleep.
Gabriel offers him an endearing grin. “Coffee time, baby.”
Jack chuckles as he sits up, accepts the warm mug from his husband and takes a drink, watching as Gabriel slides into bed next to him and grabs a dog-eared book from the bedside table. “So what’s the morning agenda?” Jack asks.
Gabriel pauses in his reading and looks at him. “Coffee time.”
Jack snorts, hides his smile behind his mug as he takes a drink, and he knows that the source of warmth in his chest isn’t the mug in his hands.
“Coffee time.”