stillhavespots.
“ Darling? ” The alarm clock read 5:30am, which was scandalously early in Morse’s book, Q knew. But it was a workday and Morse would have to leave for a mission in the afternoon. He was still soundly asleep, bless him, and Q felt sorry for him as he planted kisses onto his shoulder for the sole reason of waking him up. “ Morse, it’s your birthday. Wake up. ” His sing-song words were spoken softly and with pauses of kisses in between. He kissed the warm, freckled skin and felt very awake already.
He let his fingers dance over the lightly stubbled jaw. “ Don’t you want me to give you your present, Morse? ” @coperas
WHERE ONCE SOUNDED A PEACEFUL SNORING , the rhythm is interrupted by an inaudible mumble. Morse has taken his usual sleeping position ; resting on his stomach, one arm wrapped around the man next to him, a chaos of bronze curls moving only slightly as he breathes in & out. His face momentarily vanishes into the pillow, virtually asleep still. HE RARELY GETS UP EARLY , knowing that he needs the sleep especially prior to a mission -- tonight, his dreams were particularly restless and his head is pounding of drowsiness. Is he even awake ? Norman’s words sound faraway at first, almost as if he’s calling him from another reality.
Morse moves his head again, now facing Q (even though his eyes are still barely open). The birthday reminder only prompts a HUFF -- he has never been one to celebrate his birthday with much grandeur. The kisses spread warmth through his sleep-numb body, but he feels his mind dozing off again, fighting to stay conscious.
“ --- .... I thought I told you I wouldn’t be celebrating it, ” he mumbles, though his voice is not disappointed in any way; merely matter-of-factly.
