Loki

The whisper didn't come anywhere close to waking him but asleep Loki still grips Paul with a contented breath at the soft sound of him as the wrap of sleep holds him against Paul. Of course Loki loves him; Paul was an oasis of comfort and security. They had always fought for each other, loved each other in the best way they knew how, and Loki had long understood how their weaknesses and strengths complimented each other. It had always been them against the world and for all the fleeting and rare dreams that Loki had about waking up in Paul's arms, there were just as many mornings that he woke up alone and anxious, ready to dive back into purposeful work that kept him out of his own sorrows.

This morning was different - a wash of relief out swelled the fear and loneliness that sat at the ready in Loki's chest and when he shifts his head back a fraction so he can look up in Paul's face, a sleepy smile slowly curls across his features. You're still here.

"Morning," he rumbles roughly, taking a deep breath as he starts to stretch, groaning softly before curling back into Paul, pressing a kiss to his chest. He could stay here for another hour at least; he hadn't slept so well in -

The relaxed air about him stiffened with a breath as he realized that there's no way it's been only four hours and he pulls his head back, eyes wide. "Oh shit. Did we oversleep?"