#masonmountconcepts

“babe? you ready out there?” mason glanced at his watch then back to the mirror at his own reflection, tutting at his tie loosely dangling round his neck, completely unravelled once again, as he fixed his appearance for the fifth time over. for the last night of the honeymoon, mason reserved a table at one of the quietest yet delicious restaurants in the town centre — but little did he know you had your own plans for the night.

plucking up every ounce of courage you’ve got, you finally pulled yourself from the deck chair, dog-earring the page in your book, and slipped through the gap in the sliding door. mason kept a watch out of the corner of his eye and, with hardly a toe in the doorframe, he darted his head around, completely abandoning his tie — as it felt like the whole world was fading, leaving behind you, and only you, in all of your beauty. the cherry blossom colour and the white hemming of your dress, homage to your big day, complimented perfectly with your hair, and matched the jewellery of choice around your fingers and wrists. your sandals had heels, tall enough so it was easier to kiss him, but not so much it hurt his ego too hard.

you walked to one another and met in the middle of the bedroom rug, noticing how the other raked their eyes along your figure and took their time over each and every piece of you, blushing your cheeks this crimson shade, as your lips spread far into your cheeks, and for mason, his dimple started to form on the side of his mouth.

his hands found your hips almost immediately, melting into the delves in your body like they were made for his touch, and your fingers gripped around his biceps, the muscles contracting to a relaxed position and weaving the material of his shirt between your fingertips. “my wife is beautiful,” he puffed a sharp breath through his lips, making you giggle and mutter your thanks underneath your breath. mason dipped his head down to your height and rubbed his nose round in a circle against the blush on your cheeks, then peppered the sweet spots of your jawline in kisses — but, mason being mason, like a hawk, he could sense when something was up. especially when you didn’t react like you usually would, either pushing him away or mocking his useless attempt at a tie. you felt his body tense, and he leant back to get a thorough look of your face, one which was performing its best impression of ‘perfectly fine’ right about now.

you dropped your gaze to your feet, but his eyes still burned holes into the side of your head. “what happened out there? is everything okay?” he gave your hip a gentle squeeze, one to encourage you to speak, but also his own sign to you he was there, no matter what your problem happened to be — but you dropped your hands from his arms, letting them dangle in front of your stomach. and it was then his heart sunk and he took a step back, his fingertips still grazing over your hip on one side and you jinxed yourself into feeling a slight tremor of his hand against you.“baby talk to me. please?”

“can we sit?”

he nodded and guided you with one hand to the edge of the bed, yet throughout all of that, mason was oblivious to your right hand behind your back and out of his view. once sat, his hand landed on your thigh and his fingers squeezed around it, trying to settle your nerves again by stopping your heel from tapping against the floor — but he was clearly nervous, and could not hide it, as his hands shaking was even more obvious.

you puffed out a shaky breath, your chest rising and falling heavily, and you brought the box onto your lap. “i may have been keeping a little secret. since the wedding night, actually” you chuckled, but he couldn’t find the amusement. “but for our last night here, i think now is the perfect time to tell you this— also i can’t keep this to myself for any longer.”

you nudged the box onto his thigh, and mason lifted it with the most gentle of hands. now, all of that concern he initially picked up on in your eyes was out of your system, passed through to him in his gentle touches on your body. he was a bag of nerves, thinking he was hiding it well but evidently not by his shaky hands pulling at the blue ribbon to unravel the thread, his stomach churning in knots as he did so.

you watched his face, and you could pinpoint the moment all of the stars aligned — the dots connected, the puzzle took its shape — and everything clicked together. his shaky hands clutched the test in his fingers, and that look in his eye was so serious it was frightening. “is this— are you serious?”

you giggled nervously, hoping to lighten the mood a little, then scooched closer, rubbing your knees together and giving his thigh a squeeze. up this close, you spotted his watery eyes and slight quivering bottom lip. you nodded and sucked in a shaky breath — then and there, every worry left him, and in its place, his smile that could make anyone weak at the knees.

mason practically rugby-tackled you onto the bed, the baby growing in your stomach slipping his mind, as he just wished to hold you. his arms were so tightly wrapped around your frame, his fingers indenting into your arm as he lay just above you. he started with your cheek, his lips hardly leaving as he kissed over your skin, and you couldn’t do anything but shake your head to get away from his puckering lips.

“we’re having a baby,” he mumbled close to your ear amongst his kisses, before finally allowing you a moment to breath and kneeling on his forearms planted either side of your body. he stretched out his fingers to reach you, stroking the tips along your cheek, “you’re really carrying my baby— our baby.”

your lips tipped up at the corner into a smile, “well— who else would have put it there?” and he shook his head, but his rolling eyes were unable to hide that lovable smile of pure joy. his hand slipped up your sundress and held it on your chest, before leaning down to your stomach and kissing at the small bump forming. or more like a food baby right now.