dauduck

"Good morning," Corvo whispered as he pressed a kiss to the back of Daud's head and pulled the blankets up to his shoulders.

Daud grunted, reluctantly turning his face out of his pillows to watch Corvo shuffle around their room, shirtless and golden in the morning sunlight. They had both grown so old, but the years had been far kinder to Corvo. His hair was cut short and his beard was streaked with grey, though the lines upon his face were wisened and distinguished, tinted happy with creases from hard-won smiles. He was still as fighting fit as a sixty year old man could be, lean but cut with muscle, and he carried himself with the grace of nobility and long practice.

Age had been crueler to Daud. His joints ached and his belly was a little soft and he walked with a slight limp, a souvenir from the months spent trapped in a cage beneath the Albarca Baths like a hound kept for sport, only released upon an opponent for the amusement of his keepers. It had been lucky that Corvo had found him when he did, having saved Daud's life when he stumbled upon the Eyeless fighting ring while in pursuit of witches in Karnaca during the coup. Corvo had granted Daud his freedom in return for help in hunting down Delilah's coven and rescuing his daughter from her clutches. It was the least Daud could do, after everything, and he had readily agreed. They had hardly left each other's sides since, their reluctant alliance growing into friendship into affection into love.

Daud had never truly recovered from his time in the Baths, prone to illness when the weather turned and constantly riddled with a bone-deep exhaustion that left him feeling more corpse than man. Corvo was patient, though, and had made so many concessions to Daud's condition. It was nothing that Daud deserved, but Corvo claimed to love him anyway, and Daud was so weak to his earnestness.

"Emily's ship won't dock for another six hours, at least," Daud pointed out as he watched Corvo rummage through their wardrobe. "Why are you up?"

"Let me be excited," Corvo complained, but his lips were arched sweetly in a smile.

Falling silent, Daud watched him sift through several combinations of shirts and trousers with an affectionate warmth making his chest go tight. Daud rolled onto his back, propping himself up against Corvo's pillows. Corvo had apparently decided on a shirt - navy with pale grey pinstripes - and was shrugging it on over his head. It was such a shame, Daud thought, to cover such perfection with linen and cloth. But after a few moments of scrutiny, Daud's expression fell into a considering scowl.

"That's my shirt."

"So it is," Corvo noted innocently, glancing down at the shirt covering his chest like he was seeing it for the first time.

"That's my favorite."

"It's also my favorite," Corvo added.

"Is it your favorite when I wear it or when you wear it?" Daud sniped, but his voice was laced with indulgent humor as he watched Corvo wriggle into his trousers.

After fastening the near half-dozen buttons up his fly -- a damnable fashion, Daud felt -- Corvo slunk over to crawl back up on the bed, sprawling out on his back with his head heavy in Daud's lap. It was habit for Daud's hands to fall into his hair, scratching at his scalp until Corvo was nearly purring like some oversized Pandyssian cat, eyes shut with contentment.

"Can't it be both?" Corvo asked after a while, his lips curving into a sly smile. "Of course it's my favorite when you wear it. I always thought navy suited you better than red, and the cut of it makes your back look so broad."

Scoffing, Daud allowed Corvo's fingers to find his wrist, trailing up his arm to grope blindly at the swell of his shoulder, dancing across the naked span of his clavicle. Grinning, Corvo turned over to straddle Daud's lap, bearing him down into the pillows and teasing his lips with the barest brush of a kiss.

"So handsome," Corvo sighed, kissing Daud now in earnest, though it was sweet and tender and so very familiar, leaving Daud's chest yawning open with contented affection.

"You are," Daud teased back.

"Of course I am," Corvo huffed, nuzzling against Daud's neck as he was pulled tight into an embrace. "That's why I'm wearing the shirt."

"Thief."

Daud knocked the side of his head against Corvo's temple, a gentle scolding, but still smoothed his hands over the broad expanse of Corvo's back, caressing and sweet. He was lucky, so lucky, to have this; to have Corvo, to have a home, to have a life that he finally believed was worth living. He was happy. For years, he had thought that he had forfeited his right to such a thing as contentment, but Corvo had been so determined to prove otherwise. Corvo was a miracle, and Daud had finally become a believer.

"Fine," Daud admitted, lips pressed into Corvo's hair. "I'll let you wear it today, since Emily is coming to visit. You have to look handsome to greet the Empress, else Billie will have both our hides."

Corvo laughed, bright and startled and chiming with happiness. He pressed his lips to Daud's jaw, smiling into the kiss.