There was one thing I’d always found adorable about my lover.
Aside from the sleepy smiles I was graced with on the mornings I awoke first, or the way he would snuggle with me after a vigorous round of love-making, or any of the other usual little secrets that one discovers about a person they share their life with. No, this was one little quirk that seemed so opposite my little lover, the one little thing I would notice he’d become embarrassed of and would always glance insecurely at me, hoping I was oblivious. It didn’t happen often, and I think I treasured it because it was such a rarity.
Some evenings, he would simply work himself too hard for too long, and I’d find him the victim of an impromptu nap. Several times he was propped at his desk, his dark head either situated comfortably on crossed arms, or sometimes dropped rather uncomfortably right on top of whatever he’d been working on. A few times the nap was obviously more planned, and I would catch him lounging on his couch or in front of the fire. I would always take a moment to pause and smile – he was always so beautiful in sleep. That constant arch to his left brow would relax so his eyebrows were even and gentler. His eyes, unfocused and soft, were not narrowed in thought or annoyance. His lips were not in a tight line or pursed, but relaxed, almost pouting, and ever-so-slightly parted.
And this was the source of my adoring grins and silly smiles. For only when he napped would this occur; my haughty and proud and poised and perfect counselor would drool. Nothing to the extent of thinking to offer him a bib, just that little glimmer of saliva that would dampen his sleeve or his cheek. There was just something about my dignified little love drooling on himself that would make me chuckle, and instantly I would get to watch those beautiful brown eyes focus on me. My favorite moments were those when I watched him realize something wet was on the side of his face, and trying to subtly wipe away the offensive spittle without me realizing it. Sometimes an exaggerated stretching motion. Sometimes he’d scrub at his whole face. I think he hoped I wouldn’t notice he never did such grandiose maneuvers when he woke other times. And then he’d peek at me as he mumbled a sarcastic remark or weak threat about me speaking of catching him napping. In those beautiful eyes I’d see that searching, embarrassed expression, and before he hid behind his hair I’d see the color on his cheek.
Right now I watch him as he – once again – naps on the couch. I decide it’s time to end the suspense, and crouch before him, reaching out slowly so as not to wake him. Gently, tucking my thumb behind my sleeve, I wipe the offending wetness from his cheek and lips. Instantly his eyes focus on me and his lovely, sharp cheekbones turn bright red. I smile at him, tapping his mouth closed with the tips of my fingers. He bashfully returns the smile, ducking away from me into his folded arms. With a soft kiss onto his head, I stand and watch as he peeks out from between his shields to glance at me.
"There enough room for a sleepy captain?” I ask with a silly grin. He pauses for a moment before scooting himself back against the couch, leaving me with hardly enough room to lie down without threat of falling. But I curl up anyways, pulling him tight against me and tucking his head beneath my chin. The rigidity leaves him, and he crawls and tugs until I’m more on my back, and he’s more cuddled on top of me. His head turns to regard me curiously, and as I tuck several wayward strands of hair behind his beautiful ear, I wink at him conspiringly. “This shirt needs cleaned anyways, so a little slobber won’t hurt.”
I’m thankful when his reaction is to grin and slap my shoulder pitifully before burrowing down as close as he physically can to me. Wrapping my arms around him, I listen to his breathing even back out, and soon after join him in his napping. I hardly even notice the little damp spot.