katsuki jumps, startlingly, when you rub a hand up his back.
he's leaned too far down, bent over the counter at an angle that will give him an ache he'll complain about later, and his head whips up as you come to stand beside him. an e-mail on his phone is what previously had his full attention, but now he looks at you, eyes softening as you lean into his shoulder.
he's never been a very touchy guy. even after a year into your relationship, it's most often you reaching for his hand as you walk down the street; you pressing a kiss into his cheek while watching a movie on the couch; you running a hand through his hair as his breath steadies out beside you in bed.
it's not something you really complain about. you know how he is, knew before anything developed between the two of you, and you can't say it's a deal-breaker. there's little you know about his previous relationships or if he even had any, but you have the painful-gut feeling that affection just isn't something he's used to.
you press a smile into the sleeve of his shirt and his spine relaxes under your hand, finds that awful curve again. he watches you like he's waiting for something, tracing the tender details of your face.
"love you," you say, because do and you want to voice it aloud, put it into his mind even though you know he knows. as expected, his lips flatten into a wavering little line, shy suddenly, and your teeth wet the fabric of his shirt when you smile.
all you get is a little grunt in response and he dips his chin down in a wordless nod, accepting your lovey-dovey assault. it makes him feel a little helpless, you know, but you bring up an arm to wrap around him as he turns back to his phone, ears pink.
katsuki straightens with a dull pop!, stretching his arms up and allowing you to shuffle closer, so that your head is resting on his chest. you press your ear to it and wait, eyes closed, until the heavy promise of his heartbeat echoes like a drum in your ear. it's loud, and after a moment, your own falls into sync, right where it belongs.
"'s'wrong?"
"hm?" you glance up at him, the frown on his pink face, before breathing in the clean scent of his laundry soap. your laundry soap. and then you shake your head. "nothin'. just missed you."
"been home all day."
"i know," you sigh, letting your eyes fall shut again. the sound of his phone locking clicks and you can feel the slight down-slide of his sweatpants when he pockets it. "sometimes i miss you even though you're right here."
you expect — something; another grunt or laugh through his nose, a raspy little noise that voices his confusion. things like this can be hard for him; you know how he is, knew before anything ever developed between the two of you — but you don't think it makes him any less deserving.
katsuki steps back from you a little, and you feel the hesitant rise of his arm before you feel it. his hand comes up to your face — pink and scarred in your peripheral vision — and he tilts your head up, waits until you open your eyes.
when you do, it looks as if a million things are running through his head. his poker-face is good, it has to be, but you can see little bits of his vulnerability shining through. you wonder how long it's been since he showed it to anybody. he almost looks sad.
katsuki squeezes your cheeks until your lips pucker, and his frown deepens when you laugh. "y're so...damn weird."
that's along the lines of what you were anticipating: one of his teasing little insults, warm with a fire he's still learning how to kindle. you don't get the chance to say anything before he's kissing you, eyes shut tight, lashes brushing against your own.
you expect something soft, because affection is a fickle thing, from him — but his hand never falls from your face and his tongue is sliding with yours suddenly, a heated gesture that throws your heart out of whack. you let him kiss you as deeply as he can, until your back arches painfully backward over the counter as he leans into you.
when he pulls away, his lips are a little swollen and his cheeks are burning, as he presses one into yours. "i—jus'—" katsuki tries and then abandons it, a hand curling into the material of your shirt. "i get it." he murmurs, there, into the heated skin of your face, heart beating in time with yours.
things like this are hard with him — but he makes them so, so worth it.
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Snippet Sunday 🎿
I was tagged by @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 @theotherbuckley @thewolvesof1998 @disasterbuckdiaz @hippolotamus @eddiebabygirldiaz @jeeyuns @eowon thank you my dears 💛
I have officially finished writing AND editing both the puppy fic and the hospital fic, leaving only this one to work on, so here's a snippet to celebrate. ❄️
“You know, if we pick up some stuff on our way back, we could make some fancy hot chocolate and watch some movies, maybe get a real fire going, set the mood, you know.”
Eddie snorted jovially. “What kind of mood are we setting? Hallmark?”
He was going for a joke, because the thought of sitting around on the couch, a large Sherpa blanket thrown over the three of them as they watch some cheesy holiday movie, while the fire crackles away in the background… well, it was making his heart want to crawl out of his throat and straight into Buck’s own.
“Hah n-no, just thought since we have the cabin and all. B-but we don’t have to do it, if you don’t want to. It was just an idea.” Buck shrugged a little awkwardly, jostling Christopher and making him grunt quietly without actually waking up.
“Nah, you’re right, we should take advantage of the place. Besides, I’m sure Christopher would love that.” He added softly, looking at his son’s face as he kept on dozing without a worry in this world, tucked safely into Buck’s side.
✨no pressure tagging: @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @ladydorian05 @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @heartshapedvows @nmcggg @rainbow-nerdss @watchyourbuck @fortheloveofbuddie @exhuastedpigeon
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Thena is crying. Gil is worried until he realizes it’s because….she is cutting onions 😂 something silly maybe?
Gil looked up from within the garden, delicately snipping spices and herbs for the next few days of cooking. He looked around him, hair standing on end. Something was wrong.
He stood, dusting off his hands and examining the landscape. It wasn't an incoming sandstorm, and it wasn't a pack of ostriches on the move. He couldn't sense any impending danger, just that something...wasn't right.
He looked back at the house, just a short distance from where he had set up the herb spiral and the rest of the garden. Usually if something had set off Thena, there were signs--tiny little warnings they had learned to become more sensitive to over time.
Gil took off like a shot at the sound of a sniffle. It was definitely Thena, tearing up just a little bit. The small hiccup in her breath, the clench of her throat squeezing her vocal cords high and tight. He could already imagine her trying to hold back her tears.
He hated it when she cried.
He felt so helpless, watching her fears or sorrows or frustrations boil over like that. Most of all, he hated how much she hated it. Thena hated anything she didn't have control over, to a certain degree. She thought it made her weak.
But his Thena was so unbelievably strong. Not just as the Warrior Eternal, but just as Thena. None of them would be strong enough to endure Mahd Wy'ry the way she had, and he believed that with his whole heart. He knew for a fact that he could never live with himself if he hurt her the way she was forced to when she got pulled under.
In the very beginning, she would hide her tears from him. She would hide herself away from him and curl up and cry by herself. Thena's misery did not love company. But slowly, the more she came to truly feel and accept that it was just the two of them out here, the more she let him lure her out of her solitude.
And now...how far they had come.
"Thena!" he burst into the house, sliding in with a manic look in his eye.
She blinked at him, tears on her cheeks, sniffling. She tilted her head, "what's wrong?"
He let out a breath, his shoulders sinking. He walked over, shaking his head with a smile as he brushed some tears away for her. "What are you doing?"
Thena gestured with her kitchen knife (they had both agreed she wouldn't summon a weapon for the mere act of cutting food). "You are making stew, are you not?"
Gil nodded, freely wrapping his arms around her tiny waist and swaying them both. She had not protests. "I am."
"So," she laughed faintly at whatever had inspired his need to express his affections. She swayed with him, letting him hold her from behind and leaning back on him. "You will need plenty of onions."
Gil buried his nose in her mane of blonde. "I was worried."
"For the onions?"
"Thena," he chided, smiling into her hair. "I heard you. I thought you were crying."
"I am," she laughed faintly as he pressed his lips to the shell of her ear, "in a way."
"I mean it." He could hear her rolling her eyes at him and his worrying, but he gave her a little squeeze. "I came rushing back because I thought you needed a cuddle."
"I have need for no such thing, Gilgamesh." And yet, here she was, happily still in his embrace while the onions sat neglected. She turned her head vaguely in his direction, "I'm sorry I worried you."
He kissed the back of her head, "s'okay. I'm just glad you're all right."
Thena sighed, abandoning her onion efforts and turning in his arms. "Did you find success?"
He smiled at her, still swaying them gently, "yep--the stew will be great. I just have to go and get what I picked, now."
Thena laughed at the thought of him abandoning his little spice basket at the sound of her distress.
Oh, how far they had come since first arriving in this arid, desolate paradise.
Gil leaned forward, capturing her lips for himself. Her head tilted up for him, her hands landing at his cheeks first and then snaking behind his head.
At one time, they had separate rooms. Thena did her best to seal herself away at the end of the hall and he would be left to knock on her door, constantly asking if she would just so much as look at him.
Now; he smiled against her lips, "how 'bout a nap?"
Thena hummed against his lips as well, still letting herself lavish languidly in his love. "There are onions to be prepared. And you haven't even started the meat yet."
"That can wait," he shrugged, already subtly pulling them in the direction of their shared bed. "Or are you hungry and impatient?"
"I am neither of those things."
She had both of those things in abundance.
"Then lie down with me," he whispered, walking them backwards and keeping close to her, brushing the tip of his nose against hers. "Just for an hour."
"Hm," she mused, letting him dance them into their room with the door wide open. "I think being in this desert has made you lazy."
Gil kissed her again, letting their tongues meet slowly and lazily like waves on a beach. "I just have things I would rather be doing, now."
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