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Actually wanting to wake up in the mornings is something Dimitri doesn’t think he could ever get tired of. It is something he’d never so much as allowed himself to dream of, for far too long, but now-
He’s happy. It’s a feeling foreign to him.
And getting to open his eye to a sleepy warmth, to Dedue’s arms around him, Dedue curled against him, Dedue, Dedue-
He’d spent the worst five years of his life dreading mornings, cold and dark and alone and crushed by the fact that he’d have to face another day, crushed by the weight of all he had done, by the darkness curled firmly around his heart. He’d never thought he could have something like this, never once dreamed of deserving it- and goddess, he does not deserve Dedue, and it is a miracle beyond all miracles that he has him anyway.
Dedue asks for far too little from him, he thinks, gives him so much and wants nothing in return. Dimitri cannot possibly give him enough , could not make up for all of it were he to wrest the very moon and stars from the sky and give them to Dedue on a silver platter, were he to give him his very life and more.
And he would.
He’s not used to being loved, not used to letting himself be gentle, but he wants to, so badly it aches from the inside out. He wants for them to be soft, gentle, wants so badly not to fuck up what’s become the best thing in his life.
But… he’s not afraid, either. Dedue makes things… easy. Simple.
He loves him so much it aches.
Dedue’s arms tighten around him, and Dimitri twists to face him. “Good morning,” he breathes, soft, not wanting to break the stillness around them. Dedue smiles.
“Good morning, Dimitri.” And, oh- he’ll never get tired of hearing Dedue say his name. He kisses him then, slow and sweet and indulgent, and despite their morning breath Dimitri wouldn’t trade that moment for the world.
“How long have you been awake?” Dedue asks softly when they both pull back. “You’re not usually up this early.” His brow furrows, expression clouding with concern. “Was it another nightmare…?”
Dimitri shakes his head. “No- no, don’t worry. I’m alright. I was just… thinking.” He’s been having nightmares less and less now. There used to be weeks on end that he would go with no more than a few stolen hours of rest before they’d hit and he’d wake screaming, but he’s found it’s much easier to sleep when he’s in Dedue’s arms. He supposes a lot of it’s to do with the fact that he finally feels relaxed, finally feels safe, for the first time in years.
He finally feels happy.
He kisses the furrow in Dedue’s brow for good measure, smiling as he relaxes against him and slides a hand up to cup his jaw. He lets Dedue guide him to his lips again and hums into the contact, pressing closer into his warmth. Mornings in Faerghus are always cold, but the space between them is warm, reaching deep into his bones and making him feel more alive than he’d thought he could.
Dedue’s other hand snakes around his waist, pulling him closer, closer, and Dimitri smiles at the touch- no longer tentative, as Dedue had so often been when they’d both first admitted to the burning thing between them, but firm, comforting. There’s unspoken years of familiarity in the contact. Dedue’s hand slides up his back, under Dimitri’s shirt (it’s Dedue’s, actually, overlarge on him but comfortable, especially now in the winter chill), and he shivers at the touch as his fingers trace over scars long since healed.
The scars he got from protecting him.
He can’t help but smile against Dedue’s lips.
Dedue’s hands are large; there’d been a point he could hold Dimitri by the waist and his fingers would touch (although Dimitri is not entirely sure that holds true now. He’s grown softer, in the years since the war ended; finally allowing himself to relax has been good for him, as has Dedue’s cooking. He doesn’t mind. He does not miss having a body honed only as a weapon of war). Still, the touch is delicate, far gentler than Dimitri is capable of without conscious effort. It never ceases to amaze him how the same hands that can wield a battleaxe with deadly precision can touch so softly, can raise gardens of flowers, can love, can nurture, can heal.
He hopes one day his hands, bloodied though they may be, might be capable of the same.
He’s getting there, he thinks as they break for air and lean comfortably in each other’s space, breaths mingling. Dedue’s hands meander back to his waist, slow and unhurried, like they have all the time in the world- and they do, now. He tugs Dedue’s left hand away and twines their fingers together, lifting it to press a kiss right above where a ring glints gold, matched by the one on his own hand.
The thought of it is still enough to send a giddy thrill through him, though they’ve been wed a year now- a year. It had been a small ceremony, private, with only their closest friends invited and the professor officiating, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way. The people of Faerghus need not be privy to what is so wholly theirs, to what he keeps tucked close to his heart and nestled deep down, warm and reassuring even on his worst days. They’ve promised each other forever. They deserve forever.
They’re going to have forever.
He blinks hard, tears suddenly misting his vision in his good eye. “I love you,” he says, voice thick with emotion. He’s still not well-versed in… feeling this much, in feeling good. “I- I do not say it enough.”
Dedue shakes his head, brushing away the tears with the pad of his thumb. “Then I do not say it enough either. I love you, Dimitri. Always.”
But you do say it, Dimitri wants to say. Every day, in little ways, in everything you do. How you make me tea the same way even after all these years because you know it’s my favorite. How you look at me like I’m something good, how you touch me like I’m someone worthy of your love-
But he cannot make his throat work around the lump building there, feeling too much, too much, so he kisses him instead, tries to convey what he cannot with words. Dedue knows him, often better than Dimitri knows himself. He trusts that he will understand. He trusts him like he’s never trusted anyone before.
It feels so good to trust.
They exchange slow, lazy kisses for a while, actions unhurried; they have the weekend to themselves, at the present, responsibilities on hold. Dimitri’s hands map the scars across Dedue’s body, each carrying the story of a near miss, a battle he should have been there for- but there is no sense regretting the years they have lost. Not when they have so many together, the future stretched out ahead of them looking brighter than Dimitri had ever thought possible, had ever thought he might deserve.
Dedue’s hands find their way back to his sides, gentle as ever even as their steady warmth sets something burning in his chest. Dimitri leans into the touch, flushing at the pleased noise he makes as Dedue smooths his hands over his stomach, thumbs digging into the soft flesh at his hips. Heat is coiling deep in his belly, but every inch of him feels loose, relaxed; he could melt under Dedue’s hands. It all feels almost overwhelmingly domestic, so much so that he feels like he’s glowing with it, glowing with the fact that he has this.
He gets to have this, without shame, without the pain that has haunted him for so much of his life.
He’d be content to spend the rest of the morning kissing his husband- his husband! Oh, to get to call him that- but he’s betrayed by his own need for oxygen, pulling back with a wrecked little noise he almost doesn’t register as coming from him. No matter how long they may spend together, he still feels so much for Dedue it’s overwhelming, sometimes.
“I love you so much,” he breathes, voice a little ragged. Dedue cocks a brow and smiles softly.
“And I, you. You are… unusually sappy this morning,” he remarks. “Are you sure you didn’t have another nightmare?”
And oh, it’s just like Dedue to worry so much over him, and Dimitri’s chest swells with it, with the fact that he loves him, that he is loved in return. “I’m certain,” he reassures, and cannot keep the smile off his face. “I just… feel lucky, I suppose.”
“Lucky…?”
“To have this. To have you. I-” He cuts himself off, changes track. He is full of too many emotions, welling up, making his throat tight, making words tumble out. “Do you remember, Dedue, when I told you that you have saved me in countless ways?”
Dedue nods. “Of course. It was that day I knew I could allow myself to love you, you know.”
Dimitri pauses, caught off guard. “I- oh, Dedue. How… how long before that had you…”
“Ever since the moment I met you,” Dedue says, so earnest it sends a jolt through him, and oh-
Oh.
“Oh,” he breathes, voice ragged. “I- Dedue, I-” He cannot finish. He does not need to.
“When was it… that you realized, Dimitri?” Dedue asks, a hand idly reaching to thread through his hair. He leans into the touch.
“I think I first realized… at the ball, our last year in the academy,” he admits. To know that by that point Dedue had loved him for years … he feels a little silly admitting to it. “I- I saw you across the dancefloor, and it hit me that… the only person in the room I wanted to dance with… was you. Always and forever.” He bites his lip, taking Dedue’s other hand in his own again. Their rings shine together. “Although… it may sound cliché, but I don’t think I truly realized how much I love you till I… till I thought I lost you.”
It’s hard to talk about the past, old hurt still not fully healed, but Dedue is his anchor- has always been his anchor. “When I thought you were gone… Dedue, I-”
“Dimitri,” Dedue breathes, grasp on his hand tightening, and he relaxes- pulled back into his safe harbor. “I- I know it cannot fix what has already been done. But… I’m here now.”
“Yes,” he agrees softly, and he leans in to kiss him again. “And so am I.”
The tight lump of emotion in his throat recedes as Dedue pulls him closer once more, and goddess does he feel so much for him it’s dizzying. He’s so, so lucky- to get to be so happy, to get to be here, now, on a lazy morning with the promise of countless lazy mornings to come, stretching on forever-
Dedue kisses him, gentle but firm, and his thoughts quiet, world narrowing again till it’s just the two of them. They will never cease making up for lost time, he supposes, but every moment of what they have now is good.
And despite all the mistakes he has made in his life, despite all he has done, to get to have mornings like this, to get to want to wake up, and to do so in his husband’s arms-
He has to have done something right.
He breathes another “I love you,” against Dedue’s lips, and Dedue responds in kind, words muffled into his neck as his hands return to his scarred back with all the tenderness in the world. And with him, Dimitri feels like he deserves that tenderness. With him, for once, he’s happy.
He really won’t ever grow tired of wanting to wake up in the mornings, now. Not when he has Dedue beside him- and he will always have him beside him, the way they promised in their vows, the way they promise each other, every single day.
Always and forever.