The sunlight tugged at Shepard's eyelids, dragging him out of his slumber. He didn't sit up, but eased his hand from underneath his pillow and rubbed his eyes free of sleep. The sleep never went away.
He felt hot breath on his shoulder. John pulled his toes toward the ceiling, soothing the cramping in his legs. His body tensed as he turned his head, greeted by James Vega's sleeping body, all scars and deflated limbs. He had never woken up earlier than James before. Seeing him tucked in, not puffed out, wasn't something John Shepard was keen on ever forgetting.
James was small then. He hadn't shrunk, but he had. His shoulders were relaxed, spilling over the bed. Shepard could see those scars, on his back and the inside of his arm, bearing down and showing the fight he knew was beneath them. There were other scars, too, lower and smaller and newer.
Fingertips traced the outlines of them, stirring James, but never drawing him out completely. Shepard watched his face. He didn't think he'd ever seen James without the knot in his brow, convinced that it was a permanent fixture. Part of his face.
The lines had smoothed, no harsh edges for Shepard wring out. No wrinkles to release with soft lips and calloused fingers. Shepard leaned his head in, kissing the spot where James' eyebrows would always meet. Where they no longer had.
Butterfly kisses met his skin and he pulled back, looking down at James. Green-brown eyes touched his face before a hand did, yanking him down to meet James' lips with his.
James kissed him lazily, more sloppy than usual. He closed his eyes, wrapping a hand around John's jaw before closing off and blinking slowly, dragging his fingertips across Shepard's cheek.
"Sorry, loco. Mouth must taste like ass," James said, sliding his hand off of Shepard's face and burying his own in his pillow.
Laughter shook the bed. "Nah, tastes great. Only a little bit like ass."
James turned his head back to Shepard, smiling sheepishly, and still mostly asleep. "Yeah, yeah."
John brought his lips back down to James' brow. He kissed down his face, scar to scar, until he met his lips. His hand moved lower, barely touching James' ass, but it was enough to make James groan into the kiss. Enough to make him brush his fingers against Shepard's.
"What do you say we stay in bed for a little while?" John asked, breaking away from the kiss.
"Absolutely, but we're brushing our teeth first," James smiled that same sleepy grin. "Your mouth actually does taste like ass."
A smirk met Shepard's lips. He brought himself to his feet next to the bed, ripped the sheet off of James and brought a hand down to his ass, smacking it, before laughing his way to the bathroom.
James wasn't far behind.