Work Text:
Jon’s hunched over his desk, face far too close to the papers to actually be able to see them, and he’s muttering a bit to himself. Mugs of steaming tea in hand, Martin makes his way into the office, smiling fondly at his husband as some of the words escape containment.
“What’ve the papers done to you now?” Martin teases as he sets Jon’s mug down on its knitted coaster, a lovely bright blue so it can always be found in the clutter.
“Grading is the worst,” Jon complains and stretches with a groan. “I’ve had to do it all day, and I’m losing my mind.”
Martin chuckles and stomps down on his urge to make a joke. He instead rubs one of Jon’s shoulders with his free hand. “How can I help?”
Jon sighs and looks up at Martin. “I really don’t know.”
Martin hums and then presses a quick kiss to the tip of Jon’s nose. “I heard your muttering when I came in, and you know nose kisses are never too much to ask.” He drops another one on Jon’s forehead to prove his point.
Like a cat, Jon melts under the affection.