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| Details |
| Author: | Athena |
| Summary: | After the Charity Gala, Mordecai and Colson ride home in a carriage. It gets steamy. Communication happens and boundaries are both respected and established. Romance RP. 5300-ish words of STEAMY ROMANCE NOVEL. |
| Rating: | A for Adults Only 18+ |
Chain: Morson
Mordecai's hair has gone from being very carefully styled to match the way he wore it on his wedding day to being a little bit mussed, and he doesn't seem to have noticed. He runs his fingers through it again as he steps outside from the gala into the fresh air, taking a deep breath, and he tries to identify their carriage from earlier in the gravel driveway with less light to work by now that the sun has set.
Colson looks identical to how he arrived, as fresh as a paladin daisy. He nods at their carriage, as he starts for it.
"You've got the," Mordecai pauses, lowers his voice, and replaces a word, "Auction?" You know, the very expensive goblets they won. This is the second time Mordecai has asked in the last two minutes. Maybe he's worried someone might have stolen them since then.
"Yes," Colson says reassuringly, in the same voice as he answered before, with no sense of irritation. He still has the expensive charity goblets.
Mordecai nods. "Good."
Their hired coachman for the night, who is entirely awake and definitely paying attention, don't worry about it, holds the carriage door open for Colson and Mordecai.
Mordecai hesitates just a moment before climbing in, because he does actually want the seat on the left, as per usual. He mumbles a thank you.
Colson nods politely to the coachman, climbing in gracefully next to Mordecai. Once the door is shut, and they are no longer observable, he moves his arm in a way that is very much the same as at home, in offer of making the Mordecai Spot up against him.
Mordecai adjusts the curtain over the window to make certain it's shut and slides right into his Mordecai spot, smiling at Colson. "Hi," he says, setting a hand on Colson's thigh without looking down to check its placement. "Did you enjoy the gala?"
There's a distinctive sharp inhale at the touch on his thigh, although he maintains that restraint of his to do nothing more than curl his arm a little more around Mordecai. "Yes," Colson says honestly, a gentle smile on his face. "You were there."
Mordecai keeps that hand right where it is. "I had a wonderful time," he says sincerely, smiling back.
The carriage begins moving, and Mordecai jolts a little in surprise. This is what carriages do, Mordecai. Did he forget? Maybe.
Colson instinctively pulls Mordecai a little closer. "I am glad. You danced beautifully," he says and if Colson is even remotely aware of the existence of the carriage around them, it certainly isn't showing in the way he's looking at his husband, as though nothing else exists in that particular moment.
"I did?" Mordecai looks faintly surprised. He doesn't even sound like he's fishing for a repeat of the compliment - that's genuine surprise.
"Our dance," Colson clarifies, honest to a fault. "It was beautiful."
Mordecai beams at him. "I spent a long time working on that one. I'm proud of it. And… very happy that it's you I get to dance it with, now."
"As am I," Colson says, reaching up his other hand to brush the back of his knuckles along Mordecai's cheek, possibly as though to check the temperature of them in the low light of the carriage.
Mordecai feels warm, but not warmer than usual, and he tilts his head into the touch. "You didn't want to dance with anyone else?"
"No," Colson answers honestly, leaning forward. "I wanted to dance with you. I would have enjoyed dancing with a friend, or Cressidha, perhaps, but there is no one else whose dancing makes me quite as happy as yours, and I did not want to leave you tonight."
Mordecai looks incredibly pleased to hear that. "Me neither," he admits. "It was wonderful, having you right there the entire time."
Colson makes a soft 'hm' sound, as he moves in a little closer, his hand unfurling to place a warm palm against Mordecai's cheek. "As it was for me," he says, possibly not for the exact same reason, although likely adjacent to it.
Mordecai nods very slightly, careful not to dislodge Colson's hand. "Question. I mean, I have a question."
"Ask," Colson says softly, not even a suggestion of a command in it.
"This is going to be a very long carriage ride," Mordecai says, his voice low. "Do you want me to keep teasing you, or stop? We're going to be in here for a while." It seems to be an entirely serious question.
Colson smiles at that, leaning in close enough for the light touch of his breath to be felt against Mordecai's lips. "Would it make you happy to keep teasing me?" He asks, and his voice is already a touch lower.
Mordecai smiles back. "That isn't the question I asked, sir," he says, with remarkable composure for Mordecai given the circumstances.
Colson closes his eyes, holding himself in place in a way that makes it obvious that the only thing stopping him from closing the distance between them is an iron will of restraint. "Yes. You may keep teasing me," he says, a purr in the baritone. "I want you." A tiny pause but it's there. "To do so."
Mordecai's hand on Colson's leg shifts just a little. It's not going anywhere interesting at the moment, but it is very much still there. "Don't say I didn't warn you. It's going to be a very long ride." In the carriage, right? A very long carriage ride, right, Mordecai? "With me."
Colson grins back, his eyes still closed. "I am looking forward to it."
Mordecai leans in closer to Colson's ear. "I'm trying to see how far I can push you. And I don't know where the line is, so if I cross it, with something I say or something I do, I need you to tell me. Am I clear?"
"Yes," Colson says back, a deeper relaxation in him though his breathing picks up another notch, his arm around Mordecai holding steady, as his head tilts back slightly.
"Very good," Mordecai says, low and soft. His right hand remains in place on Colson's thigh, pressing down very slightly as if to make certain Colson remains still in his seat. He twists more towards Colson, reaching up with his left hand to straighten out his collar unnecessarily, brushing his fingertips along Colson's neck in the process.
Colson makes a sound in his throat much better suited to the bedroom than a carriage, unable to halt the noise of it, and he moves his other hand off Mordecai's face down to the leg that he isn't touching, as Colson spreads out his fingers there.
Mordecai's eyes dart immediately towards the covered window, then the direction of the coachman and the horses, who he cannot see because of the design of the carriage. There's a pause, Mordecai's head tilted like he's listening for something, but there's no change in the sound of the horse's hooves or carriage wheels on gravel.
Colson still has his eyes closed, and now his head tilted back, breathing gone a little ragged, hitching a little here and there, as his hand on his leg opens and closes.
"Beautiful," Mordecai whispers. "I wish I could see you better."
Colson's eyes open slightly, and there's a murmur too low, too softly spoken to be heard, before within the carriage, hovering around him with a beam of bright Light, the suggestion of wings unfurl, setting the holy paladin ablaze, his golden hair turned into a soft gold halo.
"Fuck," Mordecai says under his breath, and draws back enough to take in the view, smoothing his left hand down the lapel of Colson's suit jacket. "Just look at you."
Colson's breathing is getting worse, as if he's running hard, as he looks at Mordecai with open desperation in those soft blue eyes, but there is only one thing that can hold him more sure than any chain could possibly restrain him, and it's been set around him already — Mordecai's words.
And so the paladin holds himself there, on display, for Mordecai to look at for twenty long seconds.
Mordecai openly stares at him, barely blinking, mostly - but not entirely - focused on Colson's face, and when Colson's wings fade, Mordecai calls the Light to him to summon his own golden wings of Light. It's a different spell, and the visual effect is a little different from Colson's; the image of his golden wings seems to both extend outwards from behind Mordecai's back and also curve around the interior of the carriage, in a peculiar optical illusion that leaves them on display despite whatever angle one looks at Mordecai from. His hand on Colson's leg has gotten much hotter, almost uncomfortably so, and when he cups Colson's cheek gently with his left hand, that one is as well.
Colson makes an inarticulate sound, a gasp and a low, deep moan all at once, and there, deep within his eyes, are faint pinpricks of the Light rising to the surface at the sight and the touch of Mordecai's fingers on his cheek, even as he holds himself completely still, one hand on his leg, the other arm wrapped around Mordecai.
"Shhhh, love," Mordecai murmurs, swiping his thumb along Colson's lower lip. "Look at me. Look at me, just like that, beautiful. That's right. Fuck, you have the Light in your eyes."
Colson holds his gaze on Mordecai's, hands clenching tight, everything in him straining to hold back another sound, as he begs Mordecai with eyes — but only his eyes. It goes unspoken, which means Colson has not yet called a halt.
Mordecai's wings fade after ten seconds, and the interior of the coach goes much darker. "You're so responsive," Mordecai says softly. "I can see it." It sounds like a compliment.
The carriage driver doesn't comment on whatever might be going on with the inconsistent lantern light inside the carriage behind him that has just gone out again. That's none of his business - what matters to him is that he has enough light to see the road by, and if the nobles in the back can't decide if they want to sit in the dark or not, that's on them.
Colson's breaths have grown to the point of sharp inhales, holds, and hard exhales, and there's an involuntary suggestion of a lean forward, halted so suddenly that it's obvious. "Mordecai." It's just a soft whisper, a little prayer, a yearning encouragement.
"Yes, darling?" Mordecai leans closer. The smile is audible in his voice.
"I love you." It's so quiet, and it sounds desperate, as though Colson is asking for something, but he hasn't asked for anything at all. It's just there, the feeling of it, of what he would ask, but he won't — because he is still holding himself there, chained by his own restraint, and there may not be an ending to how long he will.
"I love you too," Mordecai says back, brushing his thumb along Colson's lips. "It hasn't even been five minutes. You know there's over an hour to go, right?" There's a note of concern in his voice - obviously checking in once again.
"Yes." Colson smiles gently back at Mordecai, that heat still in his eyes, but happiness alongside it. "I know."
Mordecai immediately smiles in return. "Warm in here, isn't it?" he asks very casually at the closest thing to a normal volume he's spoken in since sitting down inside the carriage. "Would you like to take your jacket off…?"
Colson closes his eyes, and curses quietly under his breath. A breath in, held, and a breath out. "Light, yes, please." He's definitely begging now, and although obviously for more than just the jacket off, all he's answered is the question itself.
"May I…?" Mordecai asks, and finally removes his hand from Colson's leg because taking this jacket off is a two-handed project. He smooths down the lapels once again.
"Yes." Colson moves his arm from Mordecai, head dropping back against the back of the carriage, as he watches his priest, his body strung so tight in some places, and so deeply relaxed in others, that it's clear he's riding an edge of something, and allowing himself to remain poised there on it.
"I didn't get to take this one off before," Mordecai says, lower and closer to Colson's ear, like he's confessing a secret. "At our wedding. You took it off to dance." He peels the suit jacket away from Colson's shoulders like he's unwrapping a present in slow motion, coaxing him with gentle hands to lean forward enough in the seat so that Mordecai can remove it.
Colson moves forward obediently, and there is again an involuntary sound, though he tries to catch it back enough to repress it, as he drops his head fully back, eyes closed and hands opening and closing like he's holding and releasing something burning in them.
"That's right," Mordecai says in that soft, encouraging voice. "There you go." He removes the suit jacket and lays it out very neatly on the carriage bench across from them, standing briefly to do so.
He does not return to his seat. Mordecai looks for a moment at his husband in the relative darkness and straddles his lap in a very careful kneel that the pants of his suit were definitely not originally intended to accommodate, but seem to be tolerating for now. He reaches down to take Colson's hands in his and shifts even closer.
Colson looks like a man drowning, and doing nothing at all to stop himself from sinking into the water deeper, and deeper. His hands are gentle in Mordecai's now, because Colson's grip can be dangerous firm, and he can no longer risk clenching them closed. He murmurs another curse, swallowing hard, and holds himself there, eyes opening to caress Mordecai's face like a touch.
Mordecai squeezes Colson's hands once and whispers, "Checking in."
Colson squeezes back once. "I love you." It's a desperate gasp of sound.
Mordecai releases Colson's hands, reaching up to his face in the dark. "I love you too, Colson," he says softly, his fingers tracing blindly along Colson's jaw and down his neck to the collar of his shirt.
Colson can't keep quiet, as much as he tries to bite back the sound — literally, in this case, as he catches his own lip between his teeth, to hold back. His hands move to Mordecai's waist to gently hold him there for balance, the paladin still aware of the moving carriage around them that could, with a wrong pothole, potentially toss the priest off his seat.
Mordecai carefully loosens the knot of Colson's tie and then removes it altogether. Unlike the suit jacket, which got laid out very neatly and carefully, the tie just gets discarded on the seat to Colson's right somewhere. Mordecai presses a kiss to the hollow of Colson's throat and then straightens. "Ask for what you want, darling."
There's an involuntary shift of Colson's hips, in its own answer, but the paladin's hands stay relaxed. "I want you," Colson says in a steady, low voice, a truth immutable.
"I'm already yours," is Mordecai's automatic reply. He leans closer, well into kissing distance, to ask, "How would you have me?" He is clearly not unaffected, but he seems to be holding his composure remarkably well, considering the circumstances.
"Here." Colson keeps his eyes on Mordecai, the blue too dark to be seen in the dim light, but his gaze hot all the same. "I want to take you here, slow and deep, feel you around me, hot and aching, connected to me with the Light, so you could feel it, how I have been burning for you." And there it is again, that faint touch of the Light in his eyes — only so easily visible because of the dark of the carriage around them, turning a metaphor into a reality.
"Oh," Mordecai says, his voice breaking mid-word. "I. Ah." It's dark, but he is almost certainly blushing, and that composure has thoroughly been shattered. It takes him a few shaky deep breaths to gather some semblance of it again. "Not here," he says, with the surety of a man setting a personal boundary that he knows will be honored. "It can't be here. Fuck."
"It won't be here," Colson repeats, absolute devotion and conviction in his voice, his eyes on Mordecai with that soft, low voice. "It is what I want, but I will not." And Mordecai knows why.
"Later," Mordecai promises. "When we– "
The carriage lurches over a bump in the road, and Mordecai grabs Colson's shoulders for balance. "When we get home," he says, a little breathless.
Colson's arms go around Mordecai fully, as if he was ready for it, waiting for that moment, pulling him tighter against him for balance. "Yes."
Mordecai gasps and grinds down hard, his eyes flickering shut. "Colson."
"Yes, my angel," Colson murmurs, a different answer to another question, and yet. The same one.
Mordecai presses his cheek against Colson's. He is unmistakably blushing. "Have you started reciting the Tomes yet?" he asks, teasing, an obvious warmth in his tone.
"Hours ago," Colson replies, sinking into the touch like he desperately needs it.
"At the gala?" Mordecai sounds amused and perhaps a little flattered.
"In the first carriage ride there," Colson says, soft and low, turning his face slightly so his lips brush ever so slightly against the outer shell of Mordecai's ear. "You look so beautiful tonight. And there is nothing else in all the world that I desire more than you. Every moment there, I longed to take you in my arms, to hold you with my hands, gripping onto you so tight until you found your own sweet release."
Mordecai's grip on Colson's shoulders tightens as he grinds forwards again. "Fuck. Do you want to know what - what I was thinking about? On the ride over?"
There's a tremble in Colson's legs at that, an aborted movement of his hips trying to meet Mordecai's own, held back with the tightest of grips Colson can manage. "I always." A shaky breath. "Want to hear about what you are thinking, my love."
"I was thinking about our wedding night," Mordecai says in a rush. "And how you never got to take this suit off of me. Back then."
There's a deep, low moan in Colson's throat at that, his hands sliding up along Mordecai's back in a hot line. The sound is loud enough that if there wasn't so much ambient noise of the carriage, he would be audible to their driver.
Mordecai immediately kisses him to try and cut off the sound.
Colson finds this an extremely agreeable method for shushing, but the level of intensity he returns it with is not going to do either of them any favors. It's like he's trying to breathe by kissing Mordecai, and if he doesn't kiss him hard enough, he will perish.
Mordecai matches the intensity immediately, getting a hand into Colson's hair. The kiss goes on for long enough that eventually there's a flicker of Light and a wash of heat as Mordecai calls the [Guardian Spirit] to him again, the golden wings lighting up the interior of the carriage.
It's obvious that it almost happens — a slip in that restraint, just the barest second, as Colson thrusts upward in full, a hand going as if to work at the button of Mordecai's pants or his own — and then there again, the shackle catches once more, and Colson clenches his hand into a fist with a sound caught between a whimper and a groan, as he forces himself back to stillness. "Mordecai." It's that reverent prayer, his voice hoarse with desire.
Mordecai, in the light cast by the wings, is visibly flushed and looking at Colson like nothing else exists. "Could you…" Mordecai lifts his free hand up to touch his cravat, still secured in place by the same pin with the symbol of the Light that he wore on his wedding day. "Could you take this off." It doesn't sound like a question.
Colson inhales sharply at it, but he moves to obey. "Of course." There is the slightest of shakes to his hand, although he's gentle and slow, and there are repeated pauses as he does nothing for a beat of a second except rest his fingers here and there, as though he needs to think every few seconds of what he is doing, why, and how, and to hold to only that.
There's another inconvenient lurch of the carriage as it drives over some uneven terrain, and Mordecai's hand in Colson's hair tightens into a grip that might actually be painful for just a moment before he catches himself and lets go.
Colson does not make a sound of pain, but he does cry out.
Mordecai calls the Light in a prayer that is actually just him saying, "Fuck, I'm sorry, are you all right?" but accompanied by a [Flash Heal].
"Light, yes," Colson gasps, his head falling back fully, exposing the line of his throat as he closes his eyes, fighting for control.
The light of Mordecai's wings goes out, leaving the two of them in the dark.
The coach driver might be assuming someone dropped the lantern, or he might be assuming something else. Who knows? He doesn't say anything, but there's no way he didn't hear.
Colson is now holding onto this cravat in one hand, and it's becoming incredibly inconvenient, but he can't just drop it yet. Maybe because he's holding onto it instead of Mordecai, as he attempts to hold himself back from anything more.
Mordecai settles his hands back on Colson's shoulders, and one of them immediately goes to trace the line of the scar - unerringly, precisely, with no light to see by and over two layers of fabric. Mordecai knows exactly where that scar is. "I love seeing you like this. For me."
Colson leans into the touch like he's on fire and Mordecai is slowly dousing it with water, opening his eyes to look at his husband fully, the expression on his face obvious to Mordecai by now. Colson's getting closer and closer to the edge, with all the strange magic of restraint so complete as to war with absolute desire in an infinitely parallel line, where no matter how high the desire goes, he will never push past it without that word of 'yes.'
"Do you want me to keep going like this?" Mordecai asks softly, holding eye contact. "Or do you want me to stop?" More does not seem to be an option on the table - not in the carriage, at least.
"Keep going," Colson echoes in a breathless voice, like he's been sprinting.
"As you wish." Mordecai shifts his weight forwards a little. "You have… such incredible control. It's amazing."
Colson smiles faintly, holding onto that cravat for all he's worth. Someone is going to iron out those wrinkles eventually. "I love you. I would do anything for you," he says, almost a whisper. "Anything, including nothing at all, if that is what you wish of me."
Mordecai's breath audibly catches, and he mouths a curse silently as he exhales. It takes him two tries to speak. "Clothes stay on until we get home," he says, drawing another deliberate verbal line in the sand.
"Yessir," Colson says automatically, perhaps pushing himself so close to an edge that the military is just habit.
Mordecai is surprised into a laugh, clear and bright and delighted and likely audible to the carriage driver. He quickly tones it down to an amused 'hm' noise and leans in to kiss Colson.
Colson's answering smile is consumed by another kiss, as he slows this one down more, and more, pulling Mordecai more firmly over his lap, his left arm a tight strap around Mordecai's back to hold him place, as his right hand finally sets that cravat down on the bench beside him.
Mordecai is more than content to just kiss his husband until the next external reminder that they are in a physical space and that space happens to be a moving carriage, which eventually comes in the form of another bump in the road. Mordecai makes a faint noise of surprise.
Colson breaks the kiss to slide his lips along Mordecai's jawline in response, leading to his earlobe for a gentle bite, his right hand almost a hot brand on Mordecai's lower back.
It is Mordecai's turn to make a noise, probably not actually loud enough to be overheard but dangerously close to it, certainly louder than Mordecai would have liked. "Fuck, I'm already thinking about breaking my own rules," Mordecai admits.
Colson halts in place, and there it is — "Then I believe, I would prefer if we stop here," he says gently.
"I—" Mordecai freezes, going very abruptly tense in Colson's arms.
Colson pulls back, and looks at Mordecai's expression carefully. "Mordecai?"
Mordecai takes a deep breath in through his nose, holds it for several seconds, and lets it out through his mouth. "Yes, of course," he says softly. "As you wish. Thank you for speaking up." He doesn't sound upset.
"Darling. What was it?" Colson is looking over Mordecai's face like a man looking at an old Magic Eye poster and trying to see the picture in dim lighting. "Please tell me."
"What was what…?" Mordecai has not gotten up. He takes Colson's face gently in both hands, thumbs brushing along his cheekbones.
"You were surprised…or unpleasantly startled?" Colson asks like he's guessing, and there's a faint note of almost distress in it, like he's really not sure, and worried about what he's misreading.
"Surprised, perhaps," Mordecai says, shaking his head a little. "You asked to stop, so I stopped. That's how it works, sweetheart. I'm not upset with you."
Colson exhales slowly, moving to lean his forehead against Mordecai's shoulder. "I see. I believe you," he says quietly, his hand moving slowly up Mordecai's back. "And I trust you to hold your own boundaries, love. Always. But I would rather it be only I who must hold onto his control so tightly, in a situation like this. It is part of what is fun, to know you are doing as you wish, and I must simply hold."
Mordecai turns his head to press a kiss to Colson's hair. "Is that why you wanted to stop?"
"Yes."
Mordecai sighs and just leans into him for a long moment. "Mmm…"
Colson nuzzles closer, holding Mordecai with that same firm grip, breathing slowly like he's savoring the scent of him.
Mordecai wraps his arms around Colson's shoulders and sits comfortably, just like this, while he considers. It's actually several minutes before he asks, "What if both things are true?"
"Hm?" Colson might have lost some of the plot in the meantime, several long paragraphs of a Tome in his head later.
"What if trying to hold on to my control is doing as I wish?" Mordecai asks. He has obviously been trying to unravel this the entire time.
"Then I would wish to continue," Colson answers gently. "If I knew that you were enjoying the reality that you may very well lose control, and cross some of the lines you have drawn for yourself. As long as we both knew that you would never say 'yes,' to me when you will regret it after the fact, and we can trust in that, then if you enjoy that edge of losing control, I will enjoy it with you."
"Ah. Hm." Mordecai kisses Colson's cheek. "Let me think about that." He gets up, slowly. There isn't really room to stretch properly in the carriage, but he makes the attempt, one hand braced on the ceiling for balance, and then sits down on Colson's left once more, scooting in close the way he did previously.
Colson is taking deep, slow breaths, and his lips are moving faintly. He's definitely going through those Tomes.
Mordecai taps Colson's arm and says softly, "Colson."
"Yes?" Is the immediate answer, turning to face Mordecai.
"Thank you." Mordecai smiles at him. "I think I understand where the line is, now. Thank you for speaking up, love. You did just as I wanted you to." He presses up a bit more against Colson's side with something of an expectant look.
Colson smiles, and opens his arm for the Mordecai Spot, reading the Look well enough now to know what's being asked for. "Always."
Mordecai snuggles up against Colson's side with a happy little hum. "I wasn't upset with you. I just needed to…" He waves a hand vaguely. "Stop. So I stopped."
Colson presses Mordecai a little closer to him. "I believe you, my angel."
Mordecai blushes. He hasn't stopped doing that yet. "Mmhmm."
"And you can show me what you were about to do next." Colson moves his head a little closer, as though about to reveal a secret, letting his lips get dangerously close to Mordecai's without actually completing the kiss. "Later." It's a promise.
Mordecai closes that distance, pulling Colson in for a slow, deep kiss as if they haven't just spent several minutes cooling down.
Colson sinks into it, but there's something even more careful in it, an awareness to not escalate any further, but hold as steady as he can where they are.
Mordecai seems content with that, and he's smiling when he finally pulls back. "We could have used our hearthstones to return to Dalaran," he says, brushing Colson's hair gently back behind his ear. "Except I want to go home for this. Wearing this, I mean."
"As do I. And I would not have traded this ride for all the speed that Dalaran could offer," Colson says softly, moving into the touch like a cat trying to encourage another pet.
Mordecai is happy to transition into gently petting Colson's hair. "I'm incredibly sentimental, you see," he says with a straight face. "You may have guessed."
Colson laughs quietly, pressing forward to rest his forehead against Mordecai's. "Jar Label." That's really all that needs to be said.
Mordecai immediately breaks into a smile at Colson's laughter. He can't hold the serious expression at all. "Is that what gave me away?"
Colson reaches up a hand to brush carefully against Mordecai's cheek. There's something more sensual in the habitual gesture, closer to an awareness of a touch in the dim light and adjacent to a touch in the dark than merely the way Colson uses touch as a baseline. "It was a very good hint."
Mordecai leans his head a bit more towards Colson's hand. "Dressed like this, part of me feels like I'm on my way to my wedding night. My… surprise second bonus wedding night."
"Oh?" Colson's interest has managed to climb higher, which is a minor miracle.
"Well, I mean. The first one was wonderful, it doesn't need to be replaced, but…" Mordecai clears his throat and looks down at his suit, blushing. "You know. It just feels a little bit like that."
"Yes." Colson dips his head down for another kiss.
Mordecai returns the kiss. It's far less heated than before, and he just seems incredibly content. "And we get to go to our real home this time, and. Be alone together."
Colson makes a happy humming sound. "Alone together," he repeats in a warmer tone, a simple joy in the words.
Mordecai beams at him. "So that's what I'm thinking about, now," he says happily. "What were you thinking about? The Tomes again?"
"Yes," Colson admits readily, an easy confession. "I was halfway through a particularly difficult section on the philosophy behind the way to consecrate the ground."
"That's very endearing," Mordecai says, entirely sincere. He stops playing with Colson's hair to snuggle up close again, resting his head on Colson's shoulder. Cozy.
Colson holds him close, leaning his head against Mordecai's, content, his control over himself as complete as he can make it.
Mordecai makes a happy little humming sound and goes quiet, resting. His breathing slowly evens out until it seems like he might have fallen asleep.
That's alright. Colson will just carry him over the threshold of their home later for their Wedding Night 2.0.