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02:00 hours. It was 02:00 hours in the morning at the time of Leon’s arrival. Technically, it was 02:13 according to his personal phone, which he took a glance at before he walked up to your guys’ porch.
Back into his left jean pocket it goes.
Technicalities regarding time don’t matter when you’re trying to sneak into your own home in the dead of night in order to not wake your sleeping partner.
Lately, it wasn’t uncommon for him to be coming home to you like this. The second life that his line of work made him live pursued him incessantly. This side of him, he made sure to protect you from, despite its mounting need for his presence and time.
He stands on the concrete before the front door, hand in one of several pockets adorning the leather jacket he wore. The pocket on his right and closest to his chest within the fleece of the interior of the leather jacket holds the key you gave him so long ago. Routinely, his hand seeks out said key and unlocks both the door and the two deadbolts above it, not needing any light at all to do so.
All that military training he’s been forced to do was effective, obviously. All three locks are undone and redone in calculated silence; the only noise produced from his actions emanated from the rusty hinge of the heavy front door as it was moved by his careful arms. The key goes back into Leon’s inner leather jacket pocket where it belongs and he releases a breath that he held since he set foot on the porch.
The interior of the apartment is dark, save for the moonlight that sneaks through the cracks in the curtains that hang over the windows. Any signs of life are held within a state of complete stasis until the sun rises again. Leon would feel incredibly guilty if he altered that state of existence, especially for your sake.
He can’t help that he comes home to you in this manner, though. You two have been ships passing in the night. It’s literally what he’s become, he thinks to himself. The less time you two spent together face-to-face, the more Leon found himself cherishing and craving what little he was able to get.
Over and over he finds that he replays your words of eager forgiveness to him for his absence. The countless “It’s okay baby, I’ll be dreaming of you”’s and “Don’t worry about it my love, just make it when you can”’s in response to him informing you of his delayed returns only serve to make him feel more awful for having to get pulled away from you.
From the life he wishes he could fully share with you.
Especially so now that he’s finally home; of course it’s at a time wherein you are present but not quite, too. He knows that if you were awake somehow, you wouldn’t even give a shit that it’s the middle of the night. He knows that you would rush up to him, arms wide open, telling him over and over again how happy you are that he’s finally here.
Finally home.
And realistically, Leon technically can’t shoulder any of the blame for your current circumstances, just as you do the same, excusing his. You’d been uncharacteristically stressed out by your own job, so much so that it was affecting your sleep schedule. Over the course of the past few months, your bouts of stress-induced insomnia were getting to the point that the consequences that followed caught the attention and concern of your boyfriend. There admittedly wasn’t much he could do other than insist you see a doctor before his most recent business trip at the beginning of the week.
And you did. The look on his face before he left sold you.
While he was gone for the past week, you caved and finally sought out a medical professional’s advice on how to cope with your lack of proper sleep. It was relatively easy. You went in earlier that week with a serious concern, and left the building with a new psychiatrist’s contact info and a fill-in for a prescription of a low dosage of Zolpidem to be taken as needed in accordance with your affliction.
And boy, it’s been working wonders for you.
So what if it potentially puts an even bigger wedge between yours and Leon’s ability to spend quality time in your waking hours together? You’re finally able to catch some Z’s without having to dump your job, and Leon stopped worrying about you the morning after you took your sleeping pill for the first night and told him over text just how well it worked for you.
He sent you a singular ‘thumbs up’ emoticon in return. Texts on his end were rare, but important. You almost felt his relief telepathically.
Psshhh. Yeah. So what. You’re both happy.
And so he’s able to shake himself out of the loop of self-criticism he finds himself stuck in when he thinks of you. The way you look up at him with eyes that could never see too much and listen to him with ears capable of nothing but patience in your woken state reminds him why he trusts your word so much.
Yeah, he’s late by hours and hours once again, but he knows full well that you’ll forgive him. He even smiles to himself as he derails his train of thought while he moseys on through the living room and down the hallway to your shared bedroom so that he can settle in for the night.
The door leading to your room is slightly ajar, and a soft blue light emits from the crack in the door. Leon pushes the door open softly, and his heart skips a beat at the scene of familiar tranquility and peaceful domesticity that now lay before him. On the large bed you’d shared settled between the fluffy comforters laid your unconscious form. The dim blue light that comes from a star-shaped nightlight plugged into the outlet next to the bed illuminates your features just enough for Leon to make them out, and he pauses to absorb the scenery.
You’d bought that simple star-shaped nightlight to leave on during the nights that you knew Leon would return home so that he would be able to make his way through your room without having to turn the light on and risk waking you up.
It was purchased a few months ago, when your job first began giving you trouble.
As per your offering. Just a suggestion of convenience.
Such an action was completely unnecessary for someone as astutely skilled as Leon, but it warmed his heart nonetheless because it was a simple show of compromise. An act of willingness to change a less ideal situation for the betterment of both parties instead of you just throwing your hands in the air and opting to make Leon sleep on the couch if he was to continue waking you up at odd hours of the night.
Like how he used to.
But you never kicked him out onto the couch.
You’d just lay up for a good portion of the remainder of the night while he was able to tucker out from exhaustion near instantaneously.
The slightest noise; between the rustling of sheets or the clanking of Leon’s belt as he disrobed for the night would rouse you from an already fragile slumber.
The star’s light was soft enough to not reverse the fruits of your nightly labors, and somehow bright enough that in your mind, it gave you all of the reassurance that you’d needed in order to ensure Leon wouldn’t loudly misplace anything on accident.
He never really did, again, it was the simplest of actions on his end when he would arrive home past the time you’d fallen asleep that would wake you up, unfortunately.
Even a couple times before this instance, the sight of you sleeping basked in the baby blue light of the plug in star was the first thing to greet Leon late at night after he returned from the past few conferences he’s been assigned to go to. And each time he got to see you like this.
Especially now that you’ve been given the respite you needed, it just makes him feel more and at ease with how he thinks you truly feel about your relationship.
Safe and content.
You obviously trust him. And he trusts you.
Carefully removing his steel-toe boots and setting them by the doorframe, Leon pads over to your side of the bed to just look at you for a second. Completely unbeknownst to you, this has become a habit. The past few times he’s come home was all that was needed to establish it.
The way your chest rises and falls rhythmically, how your hair surrounds your head which always rests a bit to one side, the hushed mumbles that would leave your soft lips on occasion, and how at peace your facial expression is every time Leon has the privilege to witness you in such a state makes him feel like something finally went right. The energy you two share, especially now, is sacred to Leon. Sitting before you is enough to allow the tension in his mind to decompress.
But not completely.
That’s what hot showers are for.
A solid two minutes passes before Leon is snapped back into reality when he catches his scent. Yeah. Time for a shower, at least. Then he can get back to your side. So, he removes his leather jacket and walks over to the closet to hang it back up so that he can collect a towel and a clean change of night clothing to put on after he’s freshened up.
This time he’s come home, he’s noticed that he longs for you a bit stronger than usual. This thought falls by the wayside.
Good thing the bathroom is down the hall, so he never worried about the shower being noisy when he has to use it at hours like these.
Leon savors every hot shower he’s able to have. Once again, yes, it’s all in the name of training, but he’s gotten far too used to taking them cold. Like hell if he’s not going to just stand under the sweltering stream currently cascading down upon him for a minimum of ten minutes. Fuck the damn water bill, too. The government pays him too well.
With all the filth and grime being expunged from the surface of Leon’s bare body, out comes his concerns with what he had to do on the trip he just got back from. This time, he didn’t have to do anything backbreaking. Feeling calmer and calmer by the second, Leon tells himself that he’s safe. He’s safe, and you’re safe. For at least the next few days, he is absolved of all responsibility.
For the next few days, he is free to spend them with you.
It takes a bit of self-soothing and coaxing for Leon to snap himself out of the work mindset. By the time he’s done washing himself, he feels acclimated enough to be put to rest for the night.
Maybe just another minute could be spent sitting on the side of the tub mulling things over.
No. Enough. There’s no need.
Leon immediately clothes himself, makes sure the floor of the bathroom isn’t wet, then leaves the bathroom to go get into bed.
When he opens the door, the first thing his eyes focus on is you, yet again. But this time, you were in a different position. Not surprising, really. He was gone for what, 20 minutes? Plenty of time for you to move. It’s how you’re now laying that entrapped Leon’s full attention. God damn. He has to pause right in front of you after making his way through the doorway—the sight before him is so breathtaking.
The position you were originally in when he first saw you for the night; you’d truthfully looked like you’d fit perfectly into a casket. Supine position to be exact, feet together, and arms folded nicely over your chest. Except you were still very much alive. That medication you’re on is just doing an absolutely perfect job for you.
How you’re laying now is much more—very much more vulnerable.
So to say.
Your legs are completely spread open, for starters. Secondly, your head is tilted over to the side of the edge of your bed. Your perfect lips are even parted, and oh? You’re mumbling.
An eyebrow of his quirks up. He’s intent on tuning his hearing to pick this up.
“Le—…”
The first syllable that you moan unconsciously dies out.
In your dreamy trance, your subconscious mind was hazily constructing a scenario in which you were contently sharing a kiss with your lover at this moment.
“L—Leon…”
Your hips shift unconsciously as they would in your dreamland.
The saccharine tone of your sleepy babble sends a warm surge of blood all throughout Leon’s body. Oh, his sweet love. He was always so shy to admit openly his adorations for you. But he absolutely loves more than he would be comfortable admitting your keenness on making sure he felt loved.
And wanted.
In every way.
The flow of blood that followed his prolonged session of eye contact with your form ended up traveling much further than Leon’s arms and legs. Most of it went to his crotch, truth be told. You look so damn cute right now. The blue light of the plug-in star illuminates your features just so perfectly, as well. He finds himself totally unable to control the thoughts that circle within his mind in response to what he’s currently heard on top of what he sees.
It’s not like there’s time for him to feel much guilt, either.
Long ago you’d established explicitly how much you didn’t mind if Leon did anything to you in your sleep. Whether it be a simple grope on your tits or ass or him straight up using you in a state of half-consciousness, you’d assured him over and over how much you’d actually love if he did any of that to you.
It took time, but you’ve actually woken up to him twice.
The first time was to him spooning you from behind; he pressed his heavy erection into the meat of your ass while simultaneously and firmly massaging your tits.
You’d woken up so happy that day.
The second and most recent time happened to be when he’d moved to mount you in your supine position. He grabbed both of your legs and moved them up as close to the sides of your belly as close as he could get them, effectively folding you in half just so that he could see how your pajama bottoms
tightened nicely around your pussy, highlighting the outline of it.
You’ll never forget the shy yet impish smile Leon wore on his face as he saw your eyes flicker open when he began to grind on you, rousing you from your slumber.
Needless to say, you trusted Leon so, so, so much.
A lazy stream of fond memories regarding your shared sleepy sexual encounters quickly turned into a torrent as Leon notices that he’s almost fully hard.
This isn’t gonna go away on its own.
He needs you. That feeling he had earlier; the suspicion that he finds himself pining for you as if he thought he’d never see you again is affirmed by his intense desire for you right now. The gears of his mind are turning, and a deep rumble resonates low in Leon’s chest as he weighs out a couple of options on the fly.
His right hand reaches out to delicately pass it against your cheek.
Yeah, the medicine you’re taking should make sure you stay under for what he’s about to do. He tells himself that there’s no reason to feel any sort of guilt—he’s not taking advantage of you at all.
Those were your own damn words, too.
But, he’d only feel guilty if what he wanted to do woke you up, on the off chance. Eh. He’ll just make sure that he controls his grunting as well as his breathing, which tends to get pretty loud. The hand that just touched you moves from your face down into the waistbands of the sweatpants he is wearing.
He didn’t have any boxers on underneath, so contact with his hot and throbbing penis was immediate. Stroking himself once, his decision was made. He’ll just rub one out before he goes to bed in order to satiate this desire of his. Turning just a bit to the side, Leon’s other hand reaches towards the bedside nightstand to open the drawer. Inside it sits a bottle of lubricant, and soundlessly, he is able to squirt a bit onto his right hand and return the lube to where it came from.
The slick liquid sits in his palm for a bit, so it can get up to temp.
Cold lube on your genitalia fuckin’ hurts like a bitch.
Leon shuffles closer to the part of the bed by your head, and with his left hand, he rolls the waistband of his sweatpants down enough to free his erection. By now, he’s free to begin touching himself.
His right hand knows what to do, and Leon’s eyes flicker shut as he wraps it around the head of his uncut cock. His hand moves down his shaft, moving the skin and coating the length of it with warm lubrication. Leon bites back the groan wanting to escape him at the electrifying sensation bolting through him from his penis.
He has to bite his lip and really hold back that groan, because now you’re making an interesting facial expression. Your eyebrows are furrowed upwards and your lips are slightly open and pursed, he notices. You only make that face when you and him are having sex.
There’s no way.
He just heard you moan softly again.
Way.
There’s not a doubt in Leon’s mind that you’re dreaming of him. He’s sure of it.
“Fffuckin’ keep makin’ that face f’me…” Leon mouths to himself. He starts to establish a steady rhythm of strokes up and down his shaft, not minding the increasing volume of the ‘schlick schlick schlick’ of every movement. He throws his head back and the fringe of bangs that covers the right side of his face falls out of place as he controls his breathing. “Dreamin’ of me like the sweet girl—MY sweet girl that you are—” Growling out every syllable through gritted teeth, Leon finds himself going to war with his capabilities to limit his usual behavior.
He’s usually a lot more vocal; moaning, whimpering, and praises were as common as the frantic breaths that Leon would draw in when you two were tangled up with one another.
For obvious reasons, he can’t be. Something about the idea that you could wake up any second thrilled Leon. Every sensation that he’s currently feeling is heightened greatly due to this factor. If you weren’t so enthused with him, this would be cause for concern. Fuck, he can’t properly recall when he was last this sensitive. He’s been getting himself off staring at you for only the past minute and a half, and he’s already almost there.
He’d chastise himself for being so weak, but this is another one of those things that you’ve told him time and time again that you actually find arousing. You’d definitely brought him out of his shell quite a bit.
Damn, his toes are curling and everything. Almost there, almost there. Leon’s starting to shake. His hooded eyes are locked in on your face and chest. Oh, your chest. You’re wearing one of his old ratty ass T-shirts and it’s entirely too big on you, but he can make out the shape of your familiar mounds. Such a sight always activates the most primal of his neurons, way in the back of his brain.
A part of him from deep within eggs him on to pull your shirt up, but he shakes the thought considering that both he’s about to cum and that your arms are still crossed on your ribs just under your breasts. He’d have to stop everything and move your arms, anyway.
The speed of his movements began to pick up exponentially, and a thought that Leon should have considered long ago now rose up to the forefront of his mind.
Where the fuck is he going to finish? Surely not on you—yeah. He’ll finish all over those plump fuckin’ lips of yours. Wait. Maybe he should pump the brakes, he figures. He slows down his pace, and nope. That’s not going to happen. Leon groans and rolls his eyes before picking back up to the pace he was going at. All the pleasure that momentarily dissipated returns in full force, and the man before you now finds himself teetering on the precipice of release.
A few more hard strokes and a mental image of you sucking on his penis is just what he needed to finish.
“Mmm, gonna cum, gonna cum, mmm—thank you baby, thank you, thank you—!” He orgasms with a quiet whimper and has to bite his tongue in order to ensure that no more escape him. Rope after rope of Leon’s semen spurts out of his cock and onto your face. The pearly fluid glistens in the blue ambience of your room. Some of it landed on your lips, and luckily none of it got on your lashes, to his surprise.
What surprised him even more, though, is what you did next.
Your unconscious body didn’t even register the warm sensation of Leon’s spend painting your face. It hadn’t even picked up on any stimuli at all. What you did was just pure coincidence.
Your mouth opened and closed, and you smacked your lips faintly. Your tongue swipes out once over your lips and ends up collecting a bit of your lover’s cum on its way around the puckered flesh. You smack your lips once more as if to process the sudden taste, but just continue to sleep.
In your dream, you’re still sharing a kiss with Leon. Except he has you laid down and is holding one of your hands. You two are kissing tenderly yet meeting and parting so frequently, that gravity had caused a slight amount of saliva to pool on your lips.
You eagerly lick it off as you continue dreaming of kissing your lover.
If Leon had the energy for another round, the sight of what you just did alone would have him bricked all the way back up. Unfortunately, he’s exhausted. Very. Like, it all just hit him now.
The weight of what he just did.
He’d better clean you up, fast. Not just because he can use the gesture to absolve himself of the post-nut shame he always seems to feel.
Dried up cum is utterly reprehensible.
Putting his wet and softening dick away back into his sweatpants after they’re pulled up, Leon pads over back to your shared restroom and grabs a towel. He turns the hot dial on the sink and waits for the water to heat up to a temperature that’s not entirely too hot before putting the towel under the flow. Once it’s sufficiently wet, Leon wrings it out and makes his way back into the room.
As careful and as light as the beat of a hummingbird’s wings, Leon dabs the wet rag over the lines of tepid sperm, diligently enough to ensure that he wouldn’t need to go over each stroke more than he had to. Paying attention to your breathing patterns, he was listening for alterations in them as a guide to stop and go.
Man, he never would, but he could fire off a handgun in the room and you still wouldn’t wake up.
Probably.
Once your face is clean, lethargy fully begins to take hold of Leon’s tired body. He just flips the towel he’s still holding over and gives his dick a once-over with the clean side and throws it into the laundry bin inside of your closet. The spot next to you on the bed is practically screaming his full name.
He sauntered over to his side and threw the covers up before settling in next to you. His eyes droop, and is very soon destined to join you in your realm of existence off in dreamland. Once his head hits the pillow, he adjusts himself until he’s comfortable. He’s laying on his side facing you.
Your outline being cast by the blue star nightlight is the last thing he sees before Leon joins you in unconsciousness.
The last thing he thinks of is a wish that his dreams are as sweet as yours when he finally goes.
World fading from baby blue to black, he’s gone.
You both sleep soundly.