Work Text:
When Tango wakes up, it’s to an alarm that’s not his, the noise cutting through the dark of the room and startling him awake with a jump. It takes more than a few minutes to process where he is, and in that time, the arms pull away from around him and roll over to shut off the blaring sound. Jimmy makes a noise, and Tango reaches out to him, catching his waist and dragging him close, his back to his chest.
For a moment, they relax back into each other. Tango tucks his face into the warmth of Jimmy’s neck, and their fingers are intertwined in front of their bodies. The quiet of their room settles back into an easy doze.
Then, the phone buzzes obnoxiously on the bedside table, and Jimmy’s separating their hands to sluggishly grab at it. Tango grunts against him, annoyed, and all he receives in response is a soft, closed mouth laugh.
Jimmy seems to properly be awake now, which means Tango is forcing himself to be awake too, drinking in as much of his body and where they press together as possible. Jimmy’s early morning shifts at the café were starting to become his least favourite.
It wasn’t always this way. A few months ago Tango didn’t mind, happy to follow Jimmy in his morning routine and drive him out to work. He’d enjoy a free coffee with him, side-by-side in their designated booth, slowly blinking awake and discussing plans for the day. The clock would strike five and Jimmy would kiss him, moving to open the doors of the cafe. Tango would stay in place, watching him tie his apron and fix his hair with a fond smile hidden behind his mug.
But ever since Jimmy and him began sharing a sleeping schedule, and Tango’s habit of all-nighters and power naps became a rare occurrence, he remembered how much he hates waking up early in the morning.
Jimmy doesn’t mind the change.
Or, at least, that’s what he says.
Since school break was over, the café was opening earlier in the mornings to allow for the increased and more spread out foot traffic. But that also means Jimmy now leaves earlier, usually pulling himself from Tango’s arms at a horrible four am, kissing him goodbye at four twenty and texting his safe arrival at four thirty-five.
Tango presses a kiss into his neck. It isn’t quite four yet, as Jimmy’s first alarm always buzzes them awake at three forty am. It’s time allocated just for them to be half awake together. Jimmy sighs softly at the affection, turning to lay on his back, still snugly trapped in Tango’s arms, and runs a hand up his jaw and into the length of hair at the back of his head.
It feels nice, the fingers threading through his hair, and Jimmy sleepily kissed his face as he did so. One to the space between his eyebrows, then just under his eye, then the side of his nose. Tango feels warm with it, never tiring of the open love, and he leans up to kiss him properly with a hum.
Jimmy returns the kiss, but it only lasts a short amount of time before he’s gently pushing Tango away by his face. When he speaks, his voice is rough from underuse, and Tango tries to blink away the dark of the room to see the pretty face that accompanies it, “You taste gross.”
Tango laughs, tucking his face into Jimmy’s neck and laying kisses down the line of it, mumbling into his skin, “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Was it weird to say Jimmy’s skin tastes good? Because it does — licking away the dryness of his lips, sliding gentle, wet kisses down the curve, soft against the sensitive marks from the night before. Tango smiles to himself, then nips at one on his collarbone. The reaction is immediate, Jimmy making a cute noise and shoving him away, and Tango going easily, his grin cheeky.
“Don’t you start that.”
Tango snickers, tilting his head so he can kiss the hand cupping his face, “Start what?”
Jimmy ignores his faux innocence, “I have work.”
“So?” He grumbles. That damn café was his most consistent cockblock. He doesn’t say as much, though, instead leaning in to kiss Jimmy on the mouth again.
Jimmy pulls away to prop himself up, turning Tango onto his back with a hand to his chest and dipping back down to his lips, kisses going from something gentle and lazy to something more heated. Tango grins against it — maybe they did have enough time this morning. He slides his hands down his boyfriend’s body, daring fingers under the hem of the borrowed hoodie. He sighs softly against his mouth at the hot skin underneath the fabric.
Jimmy has his knee propping him up between Tango’s legs, and it feels deliberate when he adjusts himself and shifts it further up, bracketed by his thighs. His breath was slowly getting kissed away, a skill Jimmy mastered months before they’d even officially gotten together, and Tango lets him take the oxygen with no complaint.
It means, though, that as he pulls away, Tango feels dizzy, already panting in the darkness of their room. If there was enough light to see him, he’s sure Jimmy would comment on how dilated his pupils are, teasing him for immediately folding like he always does.
He grabs a handful of Tango’s thigh, hiking his leg up so his knee is pressing against Jimmy’s hip, and his stomach twists in anticipation. He resists the urge to roll his hips down against the leg only inches away, blood rushing south the longer Jimmy strings him along.
Jimmy leans down into the crook of his neck, breath hot against his ear, “You gonna be good?”
Tango melts. He nods with a soft noise, and his fingers are so tight on Jimmy’s waist that they must be leaving marks. He hopes they leave marks. He hopes that when he’s at work he feels them still, surface level bruises that only ache when he touches them with a little smile.
“Then sleep in for me.”
Tango’s heart skips a beat, confused, “What?”
Jimmy pulls away again, and the cold air that replaces him feels like ice water down his front, suddenly realising this morning was not going where he expected it to.
“You,” he pokes a finger into Tango’s chest, “Did not come to bed until late last night. And then, you kept me up.”
Tango pouts, processing the words slowly before mumbling his response, “You liked it though, right?”
A huff of a laugh, leaning down for a soft peck and nudging their foreheads together. His voice dips to something fond, gentle, “Yes, but you need to sleep more, my love.”
Tango huffs, but he can’t bite back the smile on his face at the petname. He pushes, though it’s clear he’s lost this fight, and he’s fine with that, “Did you really do all of that just to tell me to sleep?”
“Yep.”
He sighs like the world is against him, tilting his head back on the pillow and closing his eyes, defeated, “You’re evil.”
Jimmy giggles, then leans down to kiss his neck, his teeth teasing the skin but never committing to anything. When he speaks, the words are pressed against him, and he can feel the way his mouth moves to form them, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Tango runs his hand up and down Jimmy’s side, committing the feeling to memory as if it didn’t already have a permanent place there.
Jimmy nudges his knee up against Tango, then pulls away all at once when he shudders out a noise. With a clearly fake oblivious tone, he speaks before Tango gets a chance to, “I’m gonna go now.”
Tango’s voice is more of a whine, “You suck.”
Jimmy laughs again, standing up from the bed and stretching his arms over his head. Tango rolls to his side, squinting in an attempt to see his silhouette in the low light. When he answers, he’s distracted, padding over to his closet, “You wish.”
In bed, Jimmy’s body is replaced by his pillow. It still smells like him, and Tango wraps himself around it, the lower half of his face smothered by the fabric. Despite being riled up and strung along mere minutes before, sleepiness still crawls over his body, tempting him with its heavy warmth.
…It must’ve sunk into him sooner than he thought, because the next thing he knew, Jimmy was gently smoothing out his hair, already fully dressed for work with his keys in his other hand. When he speaks, it’s with the cadence of someone who knew they’d just woken up another — quiet, gentle, “I’m leaving now, okay?”
Tango hums, closing his eyes again but tilting his face up and away from the pillow so his mouth is uncovered. Jimmy caresses his cheek and leans down to kiss him, soft and sweet, then speaks even softer, “I love you.”
“Love-you-too,” Tango slurs his words, sleepy.
“I’ll see you later?”
He mumbles out an incomprehensible response, tucking back into the pillow and breathing in the smell of Jimmy’s shampoo. A moment later, the hand at his face is pulling away, and Tango sinks completely back into sleep, content.