#somft

"Ah, careful," Nik said softly, catching Price's mug before it spilled lukewarm tea over his tartan pyjama bottoms.

"Oh, uh, sorry, must'a nodded off."

"Da," Nik took the mug from Price's hands and returned it to the coffee table. When he sat back, he tugged gently at the side of Price's head and patted his lap. "Here, lay down."

Price blinked. "Really?"

Nik's smile was soft, head tilted, and he nodded insistently. They had been dating for a few months now. The sex was good; mind-blowing, in fact. But they had so few occasions to be close in any other way. If they weren't working, they were fucking, and if they weren't fucking then they were asleep in a tangle of limbs, grateful to still be alive and in each other's arms, but too exhausted to do much more. That was the nature of who they were, what they did.

These quiet moments, with nothing to worry about but spilling tea on your lap as you nodded off like an old man in his recliner, were rare. A date in Berlin, a walk in the local woodlands around Hereford, a trip to Brighton to browse the Lanes. Not much. But each time, Nik had surprised Price with something new. Pulling the chair out for him and walking him back to his hotel room in Berlin, holding his hand on their walk and scooping him into a kiss by an old willow tree, cupping his waist and resting his chin on top of his head as they gazed into shop fronts in Brighton. Small acts of affection that left Price stupidly breathless for how simple they were.

This was yet another thing Price had never experienced. Sure, he'd wanted to. Four partners in his lifetime, two serious enough to bring them back to his flat for more than just sex, but he would have never dreamed of asking them to cuddle him, or let him lay in their lap. They would have glanced up and down his bearded, six foot two frame, with weathered hands and scarred skin, and laughed in his face.

He was the cuddler, the pair of shoulders, the strong hands, the warm body against their back. He didn't get those things because that wasn't his role, right? In any relationship, he had to demonstrate his love through quiet strength and resilience. A man, the man was expected to perform in a certain way and not expect more than access to sex and to perform romance on someone else, certainly not have it in return. That was what he had been raised on, and Nik was just blowing it all out of the water.

Price swallowed, glanced from Nik's face to his lap and back again. When Nik raised both eyebrows and gestured again, Price finally shifted over to lay down. His head ended up against the cushion on the other side, his arm slanted down between Nik's legs. Nik pulled the fleece blanket from the back of the sofa and draped it over Price's curled body before lounging back into the deep pillows himself. It was comfortable, natural, and Price allowed himself a small wriggle of happiness.

But when Nik's hands settled on him again, Price thought he was about to elevate out of his body in pure bliss. Strong fingers pushed into his hair, while the other palm slid beneath the blanket to stroke idly over his arm and side. Price ignored the film in favour of closing his eyes to relish every flutter of sensation against his skin. The way Nik petted his hair, occasionally scratching lightly against his scalp, was heaven on earth. A thumb smoothed over one of Price's eyebrows and then followed his sideburn into his beard. "Ahh, better than any lap cat," Nik said fondly.

"Careful, might get m' claws out."

"Close your eyes and purr. It will be our secret."

Price chuckled softly, even rolled his tongue against the roof of his mouth to imitate a purr, much to Nik's delight, but he was soon drifting into a deeper, fluffier headspace that left him quiet but for muted sighs.

His toes curled when Nik scratched his nails lightly over the curve of his arse through the brushed cotton of his pyjamas and then again through his t-shirt on the back of his shoulder; a pleasant tingle blossoming through his skin beneath the duel sensation of soft material and blunt nails, leaving behind goosebumps and faint echoes of pleasure until Price's entire body was humming.

Nik alternated between that, a flat palm, scattered fingertips in large circles that eventually slid his t-shirt higher up his ribs beneath the blanket. Nik mapped his body reverently, lingering over the different textures of scars and moles, the fuzz of his belly and the silky soft skin beneath his arm. Price wasn't sure what he liked best. All of it. He liked all of it. Nik's big hands made him feel... safe. Cradled. They were warm, firm, assured equally in their tenderness as they were in their strength.

Price knew his body was translating the pleasure into arousal. There was a tension in his hips and his prick had chubbed up, but he was content to ignore it. It didn't matter. This was what he wanted - what he needed - right now. The man he loved touching him like he mattered as more than a warm body to have some fun with. That he was deserving of this innocent love, even with all the shit he had done, even being who he was.

A tightness prickled behind Price's eyes, a slight knot in his throat, but he swallowed it down, breathing softly through it until the sudden surge of emotion calmed. Mind and body running a gauntlet of emotions and sensations to try and translate the deep contentment it was experiencing, Price reasoned.

It was good. He could enjoy this. He could want this and Nik wouldn't think less of him. Nik was enjoying it too. Price could tell in the way he touched - occasional squeezes, lingering caresses, the change of pace, pressure and location because he wanted to feel all of Price at once - the slow, deep breaths he was drawing in as the act of doting on his lover was lulling him into a doze. This was what love felt like, wasn't it? This is what he had been missing all these years.