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Simon loved watching Johnny move. It hadn’t been very long since they retired, and Johnny had surprised him by continuing to thrive. The Scotsman had rather quickly found a job at a local gym and started volunteering around town, and evenings found him relaxing at home, often across Simon’s legs as he worked on whatever paperwork Laswell had sent him as a retired consultant. Even then, though, he was never still.
After one too many heart-stopping moments before they left active service, Simon would take every little rise and fall of his chest as a gift. Johnny was laying across him once again, head propped on his thigh as he did something on his phone. Texting, based on the way the tendons in his arms flexed and he typed things out intermittently; Simon didn’t bother looking at the screen beyond noting it was bright behind his lover’s swarthy fingers. He wasn’t wearing anything under his shirt, complaining that his compression top was too much earlier, and Simon could see the soft swell of his breast under the thin t-shirt material that -
That had Lieutenant MacTavish across the left one, not sergeant, and he couldn’t suppress a soft huff of amusement as he realized it was his shirt. It still made his heart warm to see his title next to his husband’s name, however briefly he’d had them both before they finalized their retirement.
His gaze drifted further past Johnny’s phone and flexing hands, smiling crookedly at the bounce of his soft belly when he chuckled at something on the phone. One of his legs was propped up, the other stretched out along the couch. He was wearing shorts he’d lazily tucked the t-shirt into, tight enough to lie flush against his thick thighs, and Simon wetted his lips as he noticed the very edge of a finger-shaped bruise from his own hands under the edge of the shorts.
“Gaz is gettin’ on well with Nik and the Captain,” Johnny said with an audible smile, and Simon slowly drew his eyes back up his body to look at his face.
More handsome than ever as Johnny grinned crookedly up at him, his bright blue eyes striking into his soul. His hawk was a little longer now, getting unruly, though he’d kept his sides shaved, and Simon set his book aside to card his fingers through it gently. “Hm?” He murmured vaguely, distracted by the amused curve of his love’s lips that bit when he kissed, the flaring nostrils of his crooked nose, the dashing scar through his eyebrow and the terrible line across the temple under his palm.
“Oh, you’re distracted.” Johnny said, a big smugly, those blue eyes going hooded as he curled his fingers into Simon’s shirt. He tilted his head back into Simon’s hand in his hair, exposing his throat and the bite mark Simon had left at the base of it. “What’s goin’ through that pretty head, darlin’?”
Simon smiled a bit in response to the flattery and just urged Johnny up enough to press a kiss to his lips. Johnny kissed back with a hungry little growl, sliding his powerful arms around Simon’s neck and sitting up beside him, thighs pressed together. It wouldn’t take much to move Johnny entirely into his lap now and Simon rumbled a little at the thought, and again when Johnny nipped at his lips. A clever tongue dampened Simon’s torn lip and he melted into Johnny’s attention. They had long perfected taking little breaths between each other’s mouths, and it was easy to get lost in the soft sensuality of just being in each other’s arms with nothing to do.
When finally Johnny pulled back, he rested his forehead on Simon’s with a little contented sigh. “What was that about?” He asked, all too smug and happy, and Simon grinned back in spite of himself.
Johnny loved watching Simon smile. He did so much more now that they were retired - even accounting for how it would have been largely hidden before. When Simon truly smiled it spread across his whole face; his pretty whiskey brown eyes crinkled, his cheeks dimpled, his jaw pulled in . . . his mouth didn’t widen as much as some others might, likely because of the poor stitches that had left awful scars along that Glasgow smile his father had given him, but that just made every other little change that much more precious. Made his expression in its entirety look softer, and more precious.
“Just like watchin’ you safe.” Simon replied to his question after several beats, and Johnny -
Well, he didn’t know how to handle it when Simon said things like that. When he reminded Johnny how close he had come to death in the same breath as he revealed his own romantic heart. They had both been soldiers, both had nearly died many times, but - things like that, the reverent way Simon touched him, the soft smile, the thin gold ring in his love-drunk eyes . . . they made him grateful he’d retired early.
He wasn’t sure when he’d gotten his hand in Simon’s growing curls, but he curled his fingers into it and tugged gently instead of trying to find the words. “I love you too,” he murmured before nipping Simon’s lip again.
Simon huffed what was probably an amused breath into his mouth and his thin lips were curled upwards when Johnny’s touched them, melting easily under his touch. His golden curls tickled Johnny’s forehead. His powerful arms, held lower by Johnny’s over them, wrapped around Johnny’s waist and pulled up the edge of his stolen shirt.
He wondered when Simon had noticed the shirt was his. If he even had yet.
Johnny pulled back from the kiss not because he wanted to stop kissing him but because he wanted to look at the rest of him. His lean, thickly muscled shoulders and powerful biceps, the broad chest those arms framed . . . the drape of his thin shirt over his ribs and belly, the way it had all softened a bit once away from the stress of the work they used to do. The dark ink that wrapped around his arms, the haunting skulls and weapons and horror on his left arm just as much a part of him as the hopeful blackened silhouettes of butterflies and flowers on his right. His long-fingered, talented hands and his blunted fingernails as Johnny laced their fingers together, the nails painted black as had become his habit.
He pulled back just a bit so he could sit properly and then moved to straddle Simon’s lap, grabbing his forgotten phone to slip it into his pocket. He loved that he could do this, perch so comfortably on Simon’s thighs; he’d never had that with a partner before as an adult. He could feel a telltale dampness in his drawers as he settled there, idly rubbing his feet against Simon’s muscled calves as well.
Simon obliged him by pulling him even closer and making one of his adorable little hums as a plea, and Johnny leaned in to continue kissing him, settling his arms around his beloved’s shoulders again.
“Could spend the res’ of my life kissin’ you and be happy,” Simon rumbled softly into his mouth after a while as Johnny lazily ground against his thighs and they continued to kiss and play with their growing hair.
Johnny was taken by enough surprise to laugh briefly into the join of their lips and he kissed a little firmer afterwards and licked into the tear of his love’s lip to make up for it. “I could get lost in the way ye kiss me, Ghostie.”
He really could, too - he’d already lost track of time, it wouldn’t be much to lose space as well if Simon kissed him any more intensely.
Simon’s kisses trailed down his jaw slow and loving, nibbling here and there at Johnny’s growing stubble. When his hot tongue swiped the sensitive skin at the back of Johnny’s jaw, below his ear, a moan bubbled up from Johnny’s own voice.
“Bedroom?” Simon murmured into his skin after a pause.
Johnny actually had to think about it. Bedroom, and follow this through, likely end up so filthy covered in fluids that he felt the need to shower again. Or just stay where he was, and melt into a softer, but equally important pleasure with his love.
Of course, the bedroom also meant he would see every precious detail of Simon’s beautiful body. “Bed,” He agreed in a breath, and kissed him again, squeezing him one more time with his thighs and hands, pressing hard into the kiss, before sliding off of him to stand up and offer Simon his hand.
Though his mouth quirked up in another smile, Simon took the hand and laced their fingers together, and they retired together once again - this time just to the bedroom to place some effort into creating the little family they had planned.