This is as wonderful as your fic usually is. Loved all the domestic details and gestures between them.
He was kneeling on his worktable next to his canvas, his weight resting on one hand while he dabbed at the painting with a rag, his brush clenched in his teeth. In a move that made my back hurt, he shifted the rag to the other hand, stretched across the edge of the painting, and dipped his brush into an open can of paint. He laid a huge stroke of stark white along the edge of the canvas, then went back to dabbing with his rag.
I cleared my throat. “Coffee?”
He looked at me, and even after all these years, the smile that lit up his face made me want to say and do stupid things I’d undoubtedly regret all day. I settled for handing him his coffee.
Justin sat back on his heels and took the cup. “This is why I love you.”