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The first thing Lio becomes aware of when he awakens is the warmth of a hand resting on his lower ribcage under his sleep shirt, large and rough, the feeling of a chest expanding against his back with every inhale and his hair being ruffled slightly with every exhale. He smiles, hums softly - something about falling asleep alone makes waking up in someone’s arms that much more special. Like a little surprise gift. And what’s more, Lio is relatively certain he never actually went to bed - the last thing he remembers was taking a ‘short break’ from his work at two in the morning to rest his eyes. Which means that same someone must’ve carried him into the bedroom from the couch in the living room and carefully undressed him, all without waking him, and then crawled under the covers beside him. The thought of that alone is blissful.
He takes the next step in waking up and opens his eyes - the sun shines through a gap between the curtains, creating a strip of light on his pillow that just barely touches the tip of his nose. He looks at the clock on his bedside table - 10:07. On a weekday he’d already have been up for several hours, but today is Saturday, and he’s made no plans in particular, which means he can sleep as late as he pleases - or at least, as late as his husband pleases.
Just then, a snore rips through the serene morning air. Said husband may let him sleep a while longer yet.
With some difficulty in getting his sleep-heavy limbs to cooperate, Lio twists around to face the body curled around his own, and oh, is it worth the effort; because right in front of his face is that of one Galo Thymos, mouth hung slightly open as he snores, drool trailing down his cheek onto his pillow, a sight to behold. It’s not often that Galo is asleep at the same time Lio is awake, thanks to the former’s seemingly boundless energy, so to see his strong features made soft by sleep is a rare and wonderful sight indeed. Lio frees one hand from where it is curled against his chest beneath the covers and gently cups Galo’s face, running his thumb over the high cheekbones, his skin warm and so soft and smooth ( “It’s called ‘having a skincare routine,’ firefly!” ). He raises his hand a bit further to trace his thumb along Galo’s eyebrow, dark and perfectly shaped, relaxed for once in his very expressive life, and runs a forefinger down his flat, rounded nose. In his sleep, Galo’s face twitches and scrunches up under Lio’s feather-light touch, and it is so cute, Lio can’t help the wide smile that grows on his face. He wishes he could wake up like this every morning of his life, but as both their schedules are too busy to allow that, he’ll take what he can get and savor it as long as he can.
Lio gently presses a kiss to the corner of Galo’s mouth, careful to avoid the little puddle of drool on his pillow, and scoots further down beneath the covers, one arm wrapping around Galo’s waist as he rests his head against his chest, the steady thumping of Galo’s heart lulling him back to sleep, if only for a little longer.