the journal of r. cooper

vashti-lives:

@sweetfirebird This isn’t actually on topic for Valentine’s Day but Arthur, accidental king of the PTA is one of my all time favorite things to think about. He wouldn’t mean to, naturally, but there are all these awful snooty moms who look down on everybody who isn’t just like them and it’s just not right– stop laughing Bertie. 

(Although thinking about Arthur and Bertie as dads makes me think about their current baby and that makes me think about Miki and Diego, who I’m sure have such cute Valentine’s Day stuff going on.) 

Honestly, you’re an older, experienced werewolf who is overjoyed to have found this miracle, this *Miki* in your life. Miki who is wonderful and tastes like heaven and blushes for him and hides his face when he moans in bed. Miki, who is embarrassed to feel Diego’s arm slide around his waist while he works, but also pleased. He smells of dirt and a hundred flowers and a hint of blood from contact with a thorn, and he does not think about a day like Valentine’s Day because he is *Miki*.

But Diego knows. His querido needs attention and care as much any delicate carnivorous plant. He needs gifts and adoration and though he does not know this, those around him do. If Kazimir were here, he would know it too, and silently insist that Diego do his duty.

So he does. He wakes before Miki and nuzzles into his throat to Miki’s startled pleasure. He leads him into the shower, although Miki protests that he’s only going to get dirty. He gets suspicious too, when Diego only washes his soft curls and dries them by hand with a towel.

The suspicion returns to surprise when he is fixed toast, and marmalade, with butter and tea, served on Kazimir’s antique tea things. The sky has barely begun to lighten outside, and Miki is regarding Diego with confusion but is strangely silent.

Diego only nuzzles his throat again, against the door, marking him with his scent and inhaling his sweetness. He runs his hands through his hair until it is thoroughly tousled, and then when he finally makes himself pull away, Miki stops him with a tug at his shirt.

There are stars in his eyes, and his lips are parted, but his tone is so serious.

“I don’t understand,” he says, quietly pleading. Diego *must* kiss him, just there, softly on his mouth.

“I am a husband doing my duty,” he explains, “Because I love you, but my love is not the type to be wooed with cut flowers. Not even on Valentine’s Day.”

The smile is slow to appear, but then it blooms across Miki’s face and makes his eyes crinkle. His hand slides up Diego’s chest to his shoulder, and around his neck. Diego steps closer without another thought.

“Okay,” Miki agrees,breathless and remarkable. “How do I woo you?” But he already knows, as his clever fingers curl into Diego’s hair, and he arches his neck to bare his throat, and Diego’s teeth press, faintly, scarcely there, into his hot, bared skin.