"Are you, uh, are you enjoying yourself down there?" he asked, looking over his book at his partner. He knew that he had very, uh, endowed pecs, but his partner had essentially claimed them as pillows and would always lie atop him, face plopped onto his torso. "I mean, I don't mind, I just think it's a little amusing."

Truthfully, he enjoyed it. Touch was an important part of his love language, and having his partner constantly on him made him feel special. Safe, in a way. And of course, he didn't mind having his physique admired, especially by the one he loved.

He chuckled softly as his partner's face rubbed against his chest. "Too busy to reply? Okay, then." He marked his page, placed the book aside, and wrapped his arms around his partner. "I guess I might as well get comfy too."

As his eyes slipped closed, he focused on the soft sounds of his partner's breathing, on the feeling of warmth, and the gentle weight against him. He sighed, smiling, and pressed a kiss to his partner's forehead. It was nice to just spend time like this for a bit, to forget all about patrol and being an officer and whatever other obligations awaited him.

Sometimes, he wished he could just live here forever, with his partner's face smushed between his pecs. But of course, quiet bliss lasted little for people like him. New York wasn't as infested with bad guys as other places, but had its share.

He tightened his hold, his fingers curling in the soft fabric of his partner's shirt. "You'll be safe," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "I promise."