Fic - CassMako - Something cute/happy!
Mar. 20th, 2019 10:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lady_mabThis one wasn't so much a coherent smooch prompt and was also prefaced by a lot of "............" but hey, anon, i see u, it's ok, i also want lots of cass and mako being cute and happy, thank you for this prompt, just let me write pages upon pages of them being cute and happy
Cass has their ankle hooked over their knee, tablet propped up in their lap as they half-pay attention to the book that they’re attempting to read. Their head rests on Mako’s thigh, and he plays with their hair as he hums to himself.
It carries on like this, the warmth of the sand radiating up through the towels, the crash of the ocean turned to a dull roar, for a long, comfortable moment.
It takes a while before Cass realizes that Mako stops humming, his fingers falling still. They tilt their head back to look up at him--his face cast in long shadows from the broad-brimmed sun hat. “Something wrong?”
Mako glances back down at them in surprise. “Oh, no! I just got distracted.” He renews his combing through their hair with renewed vigor, though it quickly turns into a sharp little smile as he lifts both hands to tousle their curls.
Cass gives a half-hearted swat back at him, but Mako catches onto their hand and gives soft, fluttering kisses across the back of it. It’s only knowing how to handle his attempts at avoiding things that Cass is able to catch onto his chin, pressing the pad of their thumb against his lips. “I’m serious.”
“So’m I!”
“It wasn’t bothering you?”
Mako shakes his head without hesitation, a brilliant smile in place. “It’s very nice here. And like, not just cause you’re here, though I mean, that makes it extra nice. But you know, for all the shit that was on September, I never got to just go hang at the beach like this.”
Cass pushes themself up on one elbow so they can lean in and kiss Mako, slow and casual, drawing it out because they can, and Mako’s hand is comfortable against their hip as he lets it drop there. “The one benefit of Apostolos.”
“All hail the fishling,” Mako says, though the attempt at a serious expression doesn’t even make it all the way through his sentence before he bursts into laughter.
Cass wrinkles their nose, and Mako responds by peppering it with more kisses. “Don’t call me that.”
“Holy mackerel!”
“What the actual fuck.”
“You can’t stay mad at me,” Mako coos, and it’s infuriating because he’s right.
So instead of letting him come up with more fishy nicknames, Cass pulls him back down for another kiss.
Cass has their ankle hooked over their knee, tablet propped up in their lap as they half-pay attention to the book that they’re attempting to read. Their head rests on Mako’s thigh, and he plays with their hair as he hums to himself.
It carries on like this, the warmth of the sand radiating up through the towels, the crash of the ocean turned to a dull roar, for a long, comfortable moment.
It takes a while before Cass realizes that Mako stops humming, his fingers falling still. They tilt their head back to look up at him--his face cast in long shadows from the broad-brimmed sun hat. “Something wrong?”
Mako glances back down at them in surprise. “Oh, no! I just got distracted.” He renews his combing through their hair with renewed vigor, though it quickly turns into a sharp little smile as he lifts both hands to tousle their curls.
Cass gives a half-hearted swat back at him, but Mako catches onto their hand and gives soft, fluttering kisses across the back of it. It’s only knowing how to handle his attempts at avoiding things that Cass is able to catch onto his chin, pressing the pad of their thumb against his lips. “I’m serious.”
“So’m I!”
“It wasn’t bothering you?”
Mako shakes his head without hesitation, a brilliant smile in place. “It’s very nice here. And like, not just cause you’re here, though I mean, that makes it extra nice. But you know, for all the shit that was on September, I never got to just go hang at the beach like this.”
Cass pushes themself up on one elbow so they can lean in and kiss Mako, slow and casual, drawing it out because they can, and Mako’s hand is comfortable against their hip as he lets it drop there. “The one benefit of Apostolos.”
“All hail the fishling,” Mako says, though the attempt at a serious expression doesn’t even make it all the way through his sentence before he bursts into laughter.
Cass wrinkles their nose, and Mako responds by peppering it with more kisses. “Don’t call me that.”
“Holy mackerel!”
“What the actual fuck.”
“You can’t stay mad at me,” Mako coos, and it’s infuriating because he’s right.
So instead of letting him come up with more fishy nicknames, Cass pulls him back down for another kiss.
