In the late hours of the morning, Markus stirs, hazy and leaden with sleep. The sheets are tangled between his legs, twisting and shifting lazily over his skin when he moves, and he flounders in them for a moment before he gets his bearings. Exhaustion clings to him like a second skin. He arches his back and reaches out with an idle hand, and there’s Connor—curled on his side, lips parted, warm under Markus’s touch. Like magic. Like waking up together is something they’ve been doing their whole lives, instead of a new and beautiful thing.
Markus exhales into the sun-heavy air. He wraps his arms around Connor’s waist and nuzzles into his hair, and that’s when he notices it. Granted, his powers of perception aren’t exactly at their height at the moment, but it’s so obvious that he can’t believe it’s taken him this long. A grin tugs at his lips just as Connor fidgets and makes a small noise into his pillow, and reluctantly, Markus loosens his grip. He can’t quite wipe the ridiculous smile off his face as Connor rolls over to face him, eyelids fluttering, LED cycling into blue.
“You’re smiling,” is the first thing he says.
Astute as always. “Good morning to you, too,” says Markus, and presses a gentle kiss to Connor’s forehead. Connor closes his eyes against Markus’s lips, and when he reopens them, he looks a little less glassy, although Markus will be the first to admit he’s incredibly charmed by Connor’s drowsiness. It’s a little bit messy. A little bit human. “Sleep well?”
“We weren’t really sleeping, but—yes.” Connor’s eyes dart briefly towards the ceiling. “Are you going to tell me why you were smiling?”
“Awake and already questioning everything.” Affection melts, unfiltered, through Markus’s words. It’s too early to be tactful, anyway. “It’s just amazing,” he says, and reaches out to card his fingers through Connor’s hair. “You have curls.”
Stop talking and start doing: My Fallout Shelter for my Tumblr blog 