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This is based on a head cannon that I have that Selphia doesn’t approve of sex before marriage
Everyone was getting worried.
They saw the way Doug was acting--the way his eyes were constantly gazed, and he jumped when anyone spoke to him because he’d been too caught up in his own thoughts.
Lest was supposed to only be gone for one week.
It had been three.
A week before Lest left for his journey, Doug and Lest had announced their engagement, and even bought a small house.
Doug had promised to wait to furnish it until Lest came back so they could do it together. True to his word, he hadn’t touched it since, and all that sat inside it was a small mattress and some blankets on which he slept.
Every day, Doug would wait for hours by the front gate of Selphia. He tried to be casual about it, wandering around with his hands in his pockets, occasionally bringing someone with him under the guise of simply hanging out.
Everyone saw the stress and worry he was under, though, and Doug himself was merely hours away from going to look for Lest himself.
On the day that made it three weeks since Lest had left, Doug was once again milling around the front gate of Selphia when he heard footsteps. Suppressing the hope that jumped in his heart, Doug turned.
Doug’s heart soared.
Lest, looking haggard and worn, halted when he caught sight of Doug. Then they moved at once, Doug charging forward to sweep Lest in his arms, pressing their bodies together.
“Doug,” Lest gasped, and Doug could hear the exhaustion in his voice.
“Lest,” Doug whispered, and Lest could hear the desperation in his.
Lest sagged against him, burying his face in Doug’s neck as their hands wandered, feeling each other for the first time in three weeks, during which neither of them could have been sure if Lest was going to make it back.
Soon, Dylas walked by and noticed, and soon most everyone in town gathered around them, congratulating Lest and offering him support.
After every hug or handshake, Lest’s arm would always find its way around Doug’s back, and Doug’s arm wrapped around him in turn. Eventually, Jones and Nancy swept him away (with Doug in tow, as they knew they couldn’t get rid of him if they tried) for examinations.
When all was said and done, Lest only had a few bumps and bruises--mostly, he was just exhausted, and Jones forced him to stay in the hospital for the night.
Doug stayed with him the entire time.
Lest was able to leave the clinic a week after coming back.
The week had been long and insufferable for both Doug and Lest; they weren’t left alone for longer than an hour, and it was never enough. Not nearly enough.
That night, however, at the end of the week since Lest had come back, Doug brought Lest home, opening the door for him and shutting it behind him. Lest gazed around, still favoring his right arm from where he’d bashed it defending himself from an Ant.
“You decorated,” Lest said, purple eyes dancing in amusement.
Indeed, Doug had set up some of the furniture in the living room, all except the couch. The only thing that lay there was a small blow up mattress.
Smiling, Doug approached Lest and wrapped his arms around him from behind.
“I didn’t want it to be completely empty when you came back,” he murmured, “But I wanted to set up the rest with you. Sorry I don’t have the bed ready.”
Lest shivered at Doug’s warm breath on the back of his neck.
“It’s okay.”
Doug’s arms tightened around Lest, and the latter’s eyes fell shut.
“Doug,” he whispered.
Lips pressed to his shoulder.
Careful, testing. Hopeful.
Lest gently broke Doug’s grasp to turn around. Their eyes met. They both spoke of their desperation, of the hunger both felt at seeing each other again, and at the distraught both of them had felt when Lest hadn’t known whether he was going to make it back to Doug.
They didn’t speak a word, but both understood.
Lest wound his arms around Doug’s neck, and Doug pulled the man flush against his body as their lips met.
They had kissed before, but never so desperately, so sloppily. Because nothing else mattered but this. Nothing but the fact that they were both here, breathing, touching, feeling.
Doug stepped Lest back to the small bed, piled with blankets, and Lest lay back, pulling Doug to him.
What others thought no longer mattered. What the town would think if they knew--it didn’t matter, even if anyone found out.
Lest moaned breathily, and Doug was lost.
Tearing off clothes, hands sought smooth skin and their bodies intertwined, both of them giving cries of pleasure.
Doug tangled their fingers together, wedding rings clashing, the noise lost as Lest pulled his name from Doug’s lips.
That night, they became lost in each other, and afterwards lay tangled together beneath the sheets. Doug listened to Lest’s breathing as it slowed. He slid an arm around the man to tangle their fingers together once again, their rings glinting in the light of the fire. Lest, half asleep, hummed and shifted further back against him.
With a smile, Doug closed his eyes and followed his fiancee into a warm, sated sleep. Any worries could wait until the morning.