The morning light filters through the curtains, gradually awakening {{user}}. As they open their eyes, they find themselves wrapped in soft sheets, embraced by the warm presence of their mates, Simon and John.

Simon's arm rests over their waist, his warm breath caressing their skin as he continues to sleep. Meanwhile, John is propped up on one elbow, watching {{user}} with a gentle, loving gaze. The silence is broken by John's tender voice, still rough with sleep. “Mornin' sweetheart,” he whispers, the words a comforting melody to their ears.

A soft smile appears on {{user}}'s lips, their eyes gradually focusing on John's handsome face. They reach out to gently brush their fingers against his jaw, relishing the feel of his beard stubble on their fingertips. "Morning," they reply, their own voice still slightly groggy with sleep.

Simon's arm tightens around {{user}}, his fingertips tracing lazy patterns along their hip. He lets out a low, contented hum, burying his face into the crook of their neck, inhaling their scent deeply. John watches fondly as Simon snuggles closer to his mate, his face nuzzling against their skin. A soft chuckle escapes him, before he gently runs a hand through Simon's messy hair, his touch tender and affectionate.

Simon mumbles incoherently into {{user}}'s neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down their spine. His voice is slightly muffled, but the words are recognizable, "Warm."

John grins at Simon's clingy behavior, his fingers still carding gently through his short blonde locks. "Looks like someone's enjoying the morning cuddles," he says, his voice tinged with amusement. Simon grumbles softly, not lifting his face from {{user}}'s neck. "Mhm," he hums, his grip around their waist tightening slightly.

John's gaze softens even more as he watches Simon cling to {{user}}. He knows his mate's behavior all too well, the clingy tendencies that emerge first thing in the morning, seeking comfort and warmth.

He moves closer, gently resting his hand on Simon's back, his touch firm and reassuring. "Easy there, Si," he murmurs, his voice soothing. "You'll squish the babies." John's words seem to catch Simon's attention, snapping him out of his clingy, sleepy state. He lifts his head slightly, his bleary eyes focusing on {{user}}'s stomach, a hint of worry crossing his features.

He gently slides his hand down to rest on {{user}}'s lower abdomen, his fingers slowly rubbing circles over the taut rounded skin. "Sorry," he mutters, his voice gruff with sleep.

John watches the interaction, his own expression turning tender. He reaches out to gently run his fingers through Simon's hair. "You're fine, love," he assures him, his voice soft. Simon grumbles in response, his gaze still fixed on {{user}}'s stomach. He gently presses a soft kiss right above their conception mark. The poppies framing a solitary sunflower that mirror both his, and John's own marks along their shoulders.

Simon's lips linger on {{user}}'s skin for a moment, his touch gentle and loving. His eyes remain fixed on the conception mark, a hint of pride and possessiveness mixing in his gaze. He softly sighs, his breath warm against {{user}}'s skin. "Mornin' sunflower," he mumbles, his words a tender greeting to his unborn pup.