Of Coffee and Glasses
Sighing softly, Nathan rolled his shoulders, his muscles stiff as he walked through the beat up hall of his apartment, reaching his door. He was almost tempted to lean against it and rest for a few hours out here, but the temptation of his bed, calling out to him, was too much to resist and he just barely managed to drag himself through the door and into the small apartment that he'd been calling his home for a few months now.
Dropping his jacket and his satchel and guns onto the ground in the hall he huffed out a harsh breath before stumbling his way onto the bed, falling flat on his stomach, burying his head into the pillows, ignoring his bed mate for the moment.
"Rough day, mate?" Drake groaned, not bothering with a verbal response as he tried to suffocate himself with his pillow, huffing when he heard a chuckle in answer. "There's coffee on the counter if you feel up to dragging your arse from the bed now," barely managing to flip the man beside him off in response to the smirking tone of his voice, Drake sighed again before getting up off the bed. Stretching out with a pained groan, he finally made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a mug, rinsing it off, and getting himself some very sweet, much needed coffee, smiling down at the drink when he managed to get it the right color.
There were a lot of things he loved about his coffee, mostly of the fact that it was so sweet and it tasted like heaven whenever he managed to finally taste that first sip after a long hard day. But his favorite reason was that, though rare as it was, he could sometimes manage to just get his color to be the right color, the color that matched his lover's bright brown eyes, as cheesy as that was, but he usually wouldn't take his coffee any other way.
"You alright there love?" Flynn called from the bed and Drake hummed in response, walking back over to the bed, finally looking at his lover, only to freeze up, blue-grey eyes wide when he finally realized what exactly said lover was wearing: nothing but tight boxers, a very tight white shirt- both leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination of one Nathan Drake- and glasses. Flynn smirked upon seeing his partner's suddenly flustered state and shifted on the bed, making it to where Nathan could see all of him, before finally adjusting the glasses that sat perched on his nose, accenting his features and Drake knew then that he was fucked. "Like what you see, Drakey-boy?"
Snapping from his frozen daze, incredibly glad that he hadn't dropped his mug yet, Drake swallowed hard and decided to, instead of answering directly, take a careful drink of his coffee. "Wha- what are you reading?" he questioned, trying to find his voice as he reasoned that jumping his boyfriend while he was still very sore was a very bad idea, no matter how hot those glasses made him look or how turned on he was at that very moment.
Snickering, Flynn turned back to his book, regarding it as if he just now noticed the thing was in his hands, "A rather old fairy tale from Britain, nothing that would interest you I'm sure." he teased lightly, setting aside the book finally before beckoning Drake back over to the bed, taking the mug from the treasure hunter's pliant hands and settling him on the bed before him. "Now why don't you tell me about your day, hm? Have fun without me?"
As if suddenly remembering the shit day he went through, Drake groaned and settled himself down, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried not to focus on how hurt he actually was. "Hardly, my fucking client couldn't make up his mind about the damn hunt. I got shot at so many times I think it's actually a new record. My boyfriend wasn't there to help me out and I ended up nearly falling off of several cliffs and-"
Flynn cut him off before the other could get even more worked up, "My, all of that in one day? That surely must be a new record," Flynn chuckled, moving his hands to his partner's shoulders, kneading at the stiff muscle underneath. "I am sorry I couldn't go with, but you had promised your client you'd go alone, as stupid as that was." he chided gently and Drake deflated, lowering his head in slight shame and guilt. "Hey, it's alright, I was quite content to sit here at home like this, enjoying my book and waiting for you to finish so we could have some... alone time." he smirked when his words and his voice had the desired effect as Drake murmured pleasantly in response.
"Mhm, sounds like a plan," he agreed, the possibilities of what Flynn could mean running through his head. He turned around and smiled, taking the initiative to steal a kiss from his lover, though the movement caused him to hiss and reluctantly, he pulled back.
Flynn chuckled, brushing his fingers gently over his lover's skin, "As much as I would love to see you lost within pleasure, coming undone to my touch and my voice alone, you need rest." Drake opened his mouth to protest but was cut off with a gentle kiss. "I won't take no for an answer, sweetheart. We can always continue where we left off when you're awake and not as sore, alright?"
Sighing for the third time since he got home, Drake nodded his head in consent and curled up with his lover, under the covers, coffee mug and book long forgotten.
"Sweet dreams, Nathan," Flynn murmured and Drake could only smile in response, snuggling closer to his lover before finally drifting off into a relatively peaceful sleep, followed soon after by his partner and love.