Warmup before I get to work on my collab with Manic~ Gotta finish Dirk lines.
I obviously have a problem and it’s somehow linked to you making cute art and being generally the sweetest thing ever. So. Sorry it’s kind of a dash stretcher.
You love the smell of the shampoo he uses and it doesn’t matter what you’re doing or how busy you are, there’s always time to float down the hall and take a deep breath of the warm air that comes out of the bathroom when he’s finished his shower.
His hair is usually slicked back, just for a moment before he hooks a towel over his head, pulling it back and forth to soak up all the water. It’s left a mess, sticking up at all angles and that’s usually about the time you rest your shoulder against the door frame and just watch him as he snatches a brush and rights it, adjusting and combing until it sets just how he likes it.
He’s funny about things like that— his appearance. His hair needs to be neat, stubble is nearly blasphemous and you’ve never met a guy that brushes his teeth as many times a day as Dirk does.
It’s cute in a way. It’s him and you’re not really going to complain about good personal hygiene.
Tonight though, you’re not watching him from the doorway but you can still smell that crisp, fresh scent from his soap. You’re not waiting for him to pull clothes from the closet, to get ready for some job that’s got him working late or to shuck his old ones and finally climb up into bed with you.
Tonight, you’re curled up in the center of the bed you two share. His arms are hooked around your waist and you’re trying hard to bite back any laughter the little kisses he’s pressing to the back of your neck might cause.
You’re ticklish and he knows it but, after this long, you can’t really find any reason to put up a fight anymore.
You like it. He knows that. It’s simple.
"You’re so warm," he mumbles, teeth dragging across your shoulder and, this time, you do laugh.
"You’re just now figuring that out."
"Didn’t say that… just stating a fact. Am I not allowed to state facts anymore, Mr. Strider?"
"I dunno— might have to think about that."
His hand snakes around you, cupping your cheek and you turn to face him when he urges you too, his fingers insistent against your skin.
"Better think quick," he tells you and your lips twitch.
A kiss is pressed to your jaw and you hum your appreciation for the way his hands slide down your back as you turn and how his legs move against your tail as the tip twists it’s way around his calf.
"Got an answer yet?"
You can’t help but sigh, rolling your eyes because, God, he’s so impatient even when he’s playing. “Nope. I need some serious convincing here. Sway me to see your reasoning, Mr. Strider. Elaborate on your need to be able to state facts whenever you please.”
"Hm, well… let’s see." His fingers trail down your spine, hooking around the base of your wings and when his nails slide up over that first joint, your breath hitches, catching in your throat.
"I love your wings, how sensitive they are and how easy it is to leave you breathless just by touching the right places."
You want to tell him that’s not a fact, that it’s just an opinion but you suppose you’re wrong. It is a fact because you do know he loves it and it does leave you breathless and you can’t say you want him to stop. He wouldn’t believe you anyway.
"And I love how obvious it is you want to tell me I’m full of shit but you don’t because you know, for a fact, that I’m not… You know I’m sincere, that there’s nothing better than having my hands on you when your back arches and your press yourself against my chest, that there’s nothing sweeter than getting to taste every part of your body, that there’s nothing more satisfying than watching your chest heave as you gasp or hearing my name on your lips or just holding your hand, listening to your breathing, knowing you’re right next to me every night when we fall asleep."
You just nod, unable to help a soft smile as he trails off and his lips brush over your cheek.
Your hand grips his shoulder, the other sliding around to rub over his back and you sigh again, eyes closing when he kisses you because he’s right. You know all of those things. They’re facts, they’re parts of you the life the two of you have built and they’re not going anywhere.
"I love you," you mumbled and you can feel him smile, that smug little thing that you’ve gotten used to and you can’t help but laugh when his arms tighten around you and he turns to nuzzle your jaw.
"That a fact?"
You knew it was coming, felt it in his kiss, in his smile but you give in anyway. “Mhm, I suppose it is.”
"Good. Glad you’ve starting to see things my way."
You’d tell him you never needed convincing but you know he already knows that because it’s just one those things. You might even say it’s just a fact.