Work Text:
They don't need words, don't need the sounds of constants and vowels rolling off tongues. It's just the silence. The soft beating of two hearts and tired, content eyes peering at one another between eyelashes half-closed.
Their lips melt together and the sweet surrendering sigh of serenity oozes from their bodies is all the thoughts and words their mouths could ever desire to speak.
Words are silly, uncouth, and easy to speak. But actions… actions are the true breathe of the soul. Tried and true fixations of pondering manipulated into a form more renounced than a falsetto scream. The tender rejoice of an intimate moment says words that words themselves would feel almost hollow saying.
They just need moments like this to shiver and snuggle in another's arms, breath silent love, and smile at one another.
Their bodies softly tangle beneath the white bed sheets, legs entwined and hands folded together. As much as they can manage to press against one another, they do. Muscles are lax and there isn't the sense of unease or discomfort. They are completely willing and trusting in one another's arms: nothing is held back.
No one gets to see them like this: tender, making vulnerable their hearts and desires.
Damon Baird: subordinate and splaying himself out willingly. He doesn't fight, sneer, or snap. Here he is soft and begging. His electric eyes are trusting and open; his touch questing and warm.
Marcus Fenix: ever the leading hand, but this time gentle and warm. Sometimes he wavers, he hands rough, but he's always gentle, always careful… caring. His gunmetal blue eyes falter to shelter his well-kept emotions and his true inner-self bleeds through.
It's a dangerous, close-kept secret, but worth every savory moment of having.
As their lips break apart and their foreheads rest against one another, it's crystalline that this is their dawn, their beginning with the war's ending.
Love doesn't need to be vocal to be known, but sometimes it feels safer, more tangible, if three words come rolling off that special someone's tongue. Then the knowledge, the sound is in the air. Maybe then it’s not a secret.
Marcus and Damon don't need words like that. Their eyes, lips, and soft fingertips say everything. Mouth on mouth, hands running down and stroking one another's bodies… the soft breathe against shivering skin and the follow up kiss, maybe a love mark. Things like these are the breath and sentences of their love.
Marcus doesn't talk enough and Damon talks too much. This isn't a problem. All they need is action to say, "I love you."