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Jason has never been good at sleeping in.
For as long as he can remember, he's been the "morning person." Always up before the sun, always deep into his routine before anyone else begins to stir. He's never had to set an alarm, either. Supposedly it runs in his family, but he would argue differently: his sister, while one of the most active people he's ever met, sleeps like a dead tree.
Regardless of where he got it, Jason's body does not do lazy mornings in bed. So when he spontaneously ends up with a few days off from work (something something, would you use your vacation days already?), and his husband says they should lie in together, he knows it's a moot point. Still, he wants to. He and Leo don't get mornings like this very often with the way their work schedules line up, and hey, if he can't sleep in, at least he can cuddle with Leo, which is always a win in his book.
He takes every precaution. Draws the blinds closed. Silences his phone and stuffs it in a drawer. Puts on his comfiest pair of shorts. And yet, like clockwork, he's stirring at ten minutes to six, his so rudely productive brain deciding that he's already relaxed enough.
Jason groans, not bothering to open his eyes. Maybe, if he can just get comfortable, he'll drift off again? Goal in mind, he rolls toward the right side of the bed, reaching an arm out to wrap across his husband's waist—
His hand falls through empty air, landing with a soft whmp on the rumpled blankets. Jason's eyes fly open immediately, confirming his suspicion.
Leo's not there.
If not for the fact that Jason has just woken up, he'd be able to reason with himself. He knows, after all, that Leo had been working late on a commission for Hazel last night, and that he has a tendency to neglect sleep when he's wrapped up in a project. However, Jason does not currently have the benefit of wakefulness logic. All he knows is that Leo is gone and it's spiking up his heart rate.
As quickly as he's able, he extracts himself from the bed and stumbles out into their apartment living room, the vision of irrational fear and still dressed only in his shorts. He's just fumbling his glasses onto his face when he realizes that the couch in front of him is not quite the same shape it usually is, and all of his worry melts away.
Leo's sleeping form is slumped into the cushions, half lying down, mouth open and snoring softly. His own glasses sit askew on his nose, and his fingers are still loosely gripping an Allen wrench against his chest. Festus and Buford, Leo's two tabby cats, have tucked themselves in around Leo— Buford into the crook of his neck, and Festus at his arm— and blink their green eyes sleepily at Jason as he takes in the scene.
Jason can't help himself. As quietly as he can, he retrieves his phone from the bedroom and snaps a photo, for his own personal enjoyment. Then, he gently extracts Leo's glasses from his face and the Allen wrench from his hand, setting both on the coffee table beside the half-finished project. (Jason can't quite tell what the thing is yet, but it looks pretty intricate, so he's relieved it hadn't gotten dropped in the night when Leo dozed off.)
Careful not to bother the cats, Jason grabs the afghan off the back of the couch and drapes it over Leo, pulling it up to his chest. All the while, Leo remains blissfully unaware, cheek smushed against one of their decorative pillows. It's probably the cutest thing Jason has ever seen. And if he takes one more picture, well, that's his own business.
Finally, he leans down and presses a kiss to Leo's forehead. Leo sighs, settling a little deeper into his nest, and Jason feels like his heart might explode.
Festus, apparently not wanting to be left out, lets out a little chirp and butts his head against Jason's hand. Jason laughs softly and scratches him under his chin, setting him purring and making him stretch out all his little toes. He makes sure to give Buford a scratch between the ears, too, though the other cat has long since gone back to sleep.
At last Jason manages to pull himself away, ducking back into the bedroom to throw on a t-shirt before heading out to the ktichen. If he's going to be awake now, he might as well do something.
As it turns out, he isn't the only one awake. Tempest, his big gray husky mutt, is lounging in her bed, but she lifts her head and begins thumping her tail on the floor when she spots him.
"Morning, princess," Jason smiles, holding out a hand to her. Tempest eagerly trots to his side, licking at his fingers and bouncing on her toes. Jason ruffles her ears. "Hungry?"
Once Tempest is happily crunching on her breakfast, Jason turns his attention back to his own. Ordinarily, he'd just settle for a bowl of granola cereal or something; he is not allowed to touch the stovetop without supervision, a rule Leo had deemed so important he'd included it in his wedding vows. But at the same time, he knows Leo is probably going to wake up hungry and sore. And since circumstances hadn't allowed them to have their lazy morning in bed together, Jason really wants to do something nice for his husband.
Thus begins his quest for a warm breakfast he can make for them both.
By the time he's landed on an option, the sun has started to come up, spring light making soft stripes across the floor between the blinds. Thankfully, Leo's still asleep. Jason makes a mental note to reorganize their pantry later.
But he stands triumphant, holding the tube of cinnamon rolls in both hands like a spoil of war. Perfect. Baking has never given him trouble.
(Yes, he is painfully aware that this hardly qualifies as baking. He's choosing to have his little victories. Sue him.)
Tempest joins him again just as he's putting the cinnamon rolls into the glass baking dish, bumping her head against his leg for attention. Jason laughs softly as he reaches down to scratch her ears again. "You're worse than the cats."
With breakfast in the oven and the timer set, Jason is left to occupy himself until Leo wakes up. On another morning, he might take Tempest for a run, but he'll definitely not be leaving his husband alone and asleep with the oven on. And Tempest, the traitor, lost interest in him immediately after the petting stopped and is now entertaining herself by murdering her favorite opossum stuffie (a gift from Leo from her most recent gotcha-day) on the other side of the apartment. Jason can just hear its sad, dying squeaks from the kitchen.
Eventually, he decides to grab his current read off the bookshelf— a novel Reyna had recommended to him ages ago, that he's only had time to pick at on his lunch breaks thus far— and settle into one of the chairs at the kitchen table.
He doesn't realize how much time has passed or how absorbed he's gotten in the book until he feels a warm pair of arms snake around his shoulders and a kiss is pressed into his hair. "Oven's beeping, Superman."
Jason yelps and jumps up from the table, Leo's laughter ringing just over the sound of the timer. Thankfully, he pulls open the oven to find the cinnamon rolls are still intact. They're pretty perfect, actually, golden-crisp and smelling absolutely heavenly. As he pulls them out and sets the dish on the counter to cool, he glances back over his shoulder at Leo, who is leaning against the table, still snorting with laugher. "I'd apologize for waking you, but I think you're having too much fun right now."
"Maybe." Leo gives him that crooked grin that he knows Jason can't resist, all impish with his dimples and gap-tooth on full display. "Gonna do something about it?"
Jason strides across the kitchen and pulls him into a kiss.
Leo laughs against his lips, hands tangling in Jason's t-shirt. "Effective."
"I know what I'm doing." He mirrors Leo's smile.
Leo takes the opportunity to kiss him again, hooking his arms over Jason's shoulders, and well, Jason is powerless to resist. He wraps his arms around Leo's waist and spins him around, Leo kicking his feet off the ground and hooking his legs behind Jason's back. When they break apart, Leo is still midair, still aiming that adorable grin up at Jason, and it's all Jason can do not to melt into a puddle on the floor.
"Okay, well," Leo says, "I love you, but I'm gonna need you to take me to the cinnamon rolls. They smell so good I'm contemplating cheating on you."
"Don't you dare. Those just came out of the oven. You're going to burn yourself."
Leo scoffs. "I'm immune."
"To third-degree burns?"
"When it's cinnamon rolls, yeah. Lemme go, you werewolf."
"Nope." Jason wraps his arms tighter around his husband and buries his face in his neck. Leo lets out a squawk. "You have to wait five minutes like everybody else."
"This is evil," Leo informs him. "You're evil and you're torturing me with your big stupid werewolf arms."
"Weird," Jason muses, shuffling them both back toward the living room, "you didn't seem to mind them very much last night."
"No fair! I was incapacitated. You were smouldering your eyes at me. Lemme go! I'm gonna call Piper and tell on you for using my affections against me."
"Mmm. Can't hear you."
"Jase!"
Jason takes the opportunity to tackle his husband onto the couch, earning him a very manly squeak from Leo, and two very disgruntled glares from Buford and Festus, who hop off the couch to find a quieter nap spot with less flailing limbs.
Leo is punching him in the back, but he's hardly using any force and is breathless with laughter. "Okay, okay, asshole, I'll wait the five minutes, you win! Get off me! You are so heavy."
"Sorry, I have nowhere to be." Jason starts snuffling and kissing at Leo's neck, making Leo laugh harder. "My husband is forcing me to use my vacation days."
"Because that's such an evil request. How dare I tell you to take a day off."
"Look who's talking," Jason laughs, relenting in his attack so he can gesture at the unfinished object on their coffee table. "How late were you up working on this?"
Leo tsks at him. "Beauty takes time, Superman. Besides, what was I supposed to do when Festus got in my lap? Make him get up?"
"Fair enough." Jason knows better by now than to question the lengths Leo will go to make his cats happy. He decides to pivot back to the device instead, still curious. "What's this going to be, anyway?"
And, oh goddammit, Jason is once again in danger of melting into goo right there on the carpet, because Leo's face absolutely lights up at the question, and he scrambles to sit up and show him. "It's a music box, but, see, this is just the inner mechanism so far. Here, lemme give you the grand tour— this thing is the motor, I rigged it so you don't even have to crank it, you just hold your finger over this little notch here— it's gonna look way cooler once I get the outside of the box built— oh! And this part is the comb, it's shaped funny 'cause the whole thing is gonna be super streamlined, so it should play for way longer than a normal music box…"
Leo trails off with a fond snort as he turns to face Jason again and sees his sappy, glazed-over and in-love expression. "And you're not even hearing me, are you?"
"I'm hearing you!" Jason protests, unable to chase the smile off his face. "I just really like it when you talk about your projects."
This makes Leo blush deep red, as if he hasn't heard Jason tell him this a million times. "Say less. You're gonna get me going for hours."
"Good." Jason leans over to kiss and nuzzle at his cheek again.
Leo huffs, trying to look stern around his own smile. "Stop that. We haven't even had breakfast yet. I know you're still trying to distract me."
That part is a happy accident, really, but Jason's willing to count it as another small victory that his husband isn't currently burning his face on a hot cinnamon roll. "Doesn't mean I don't want to talk about the project. Does it play music yet?"
"Yeah, it does!" Leo beams at him again. "Wanna hear? Go on, you do the honors."
Carefully, Jason presses his finger to the notch Leo had pointed out earlier. The little motor whirs to life, the cylinder begins to spin, and a gentle melody drifts up from the box, soft and airy and lilting. It's not anything Jason has ever heard before. "What song is that?"
Leo rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Uh… we wrote it. Me and Hazel, I mean. She wanted something spring-y, but nothing we found really fit the vibe, so… yeah. You like it?"
"It's amazing," Jason tells him earnestly. "You're amazing."
"Quiet, you," Leo says, though he's blushing and smiling all over again. He gives Jason a gentle shove, no force behind it, before standing, holding out a hand to him. "Dance with me."
It takes Jason a moment to process the request, blinking up at Leo. "Right now?"
"Yeah, Superman." Leo winks at him. "I wanna see how long this thing'll actually run for. Why, you got somewhere else to be now?"
Jason does not. Leo has scarcely finished speaking before Jason is sliding his hand into his husband's and pulling himself to his feet, throwing in his own wink for good measure. "For the good of the project, of course."
"Of course."
Leo leans into Jason as they begin to sway to the music, hands clasped, fingers intertwined. He tucks an arm around Jason's waist, his head coming to rest on Jason's collarbone. As Jason presses his cheek into Leo's curls, he thinks he must be the luckiest man alive.
And if they forget about the cinnamon rolls until they're stone-cold, that's their business.