#secondo prompt

A faint smile graced your lips as you began to wake up feeling the gentle tickles on your face, like delicate feathers dancing across your skin. Your eyes fluttered open, and there, hovering above you, was Secondo, kissing every inch of your face, softly grunting.

"Good morning, raggio di sole." Secondo whispered, plenting the last kiss on your cheek before locking his gaze with yours.

"Good morning, my Papa. Why did you wake up so early?" you yawned.

Secondo let out a soft chuckle, cupping your face with his hand and stroking your cheek with his thumb. "Did you know that you talk in your sleep?"

Your drowsy expression turned into a sheepish blush. "I... I do?"

Secondo chuckled softly, his laughter filling the room. "Oh, yes. You talk a lot."

"Really? I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to both-"

He interrupted you, planting a gentle peck on your lips. "It's fine. You didn't bother me at all," he reassured you, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Actually, I found it quite..." He trailed off, teasing you with his expression.

"Quite? What was I saying, anyway?" you asked, embarrassed.

"Something like... 'yes, papa, yes, please... more, yes...'" he revealed with a playful smirk.

Instantly, your face turned bright red, and you grabbed the sheets, covering your face in mortification.

"Amore! there's no need to hide! Amore mio!" He laughed as he exclamed. "It was honestly the best way to wake up, hearing you calling for me..."

You peeked out from behind the sheets. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?" you asked, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric.

He chuckled, reaching out to gently pull the sheets away from your face. "Absolutely not. I mean every word, tesoro."

A shy smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you looked into his eyes. "Well, I'm glad I could bring you pleasure, even in my sleep."

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. "You bring me pleasure in more ways than you can imagine, my love," he whispered against your lips, his breath warm and comforting.

You let out a low whine, feeling his firm hand gripping your waist as he rolled you both over, letting you lie down on top of him. You nestled your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"I'm sorry to wake you up," you murmured, pressing a tender kiss on his chest.

"Amore, don't apologize. Actually, it was nice... not sleeping alone," Secondo replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

His fingers traced delicate patterns along your back, eliciting a contented smile from you as your body relaxed under his touch.

"So, are you going to share the details of the dream you had with your Papa?"

You grinned mischievously, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "Oh, you want to know, do you?" you teased playfully.

Your Papa needs a pick-me-up, and you know just the thing.

Being as silent as you can so as to surprise him, you dress in the shirt he'd hastily discarded last night and your underwear which had been torn off you even faster. You pad your way over to the kitchen and begin to prepare him a cup of coffee.

Secondo is a very particular man about his coffee--only the best whole beans from Colombia, freshly ground for every cup he makes, and a splash of his favorite sweet cream from the local farmer's market. He owns the best coffeemaker in the entire Abbey--better than the ones in the kitchens, and far better than the Keurig in the Clergy's break room. In desperate situations when he makes himself a cup from a coffee pod, he always grimaces at the taste. What do they put in these things, eh? Dirt?

You smile when you hear the shower turn off. He'll be out of the bathroom soon, dressed in only his pants and a crisp white shirt, unbuttoned. That outfit is your favorite of his. It makes you so hot for him that he might as well just walk out completely naked.

The coffee begins to brew into a plain black travel mug.

You wish you could make him breakfast, too. But Secondo never has time for it, preferring instead to hold you for a little longer after his alarm goes off, rather than get out of bed and leave you to wake up alone.

"That smells good," Secondo says as he emerges from the bathroom. His voice is groggy and low and his footsteps drag as he strides into the kitchen. As you predicted, you can see a stripe of skin from his collarbones to the waist of his pants. A dark line of hair trails down from his navel and disappears below his belt. Despite his shirt blocking most of the light, you can see a few lingering drops of water glistening on his skin.

Satan, give me strength, you pray.

You bring your gaze up to his face. "It's for you," you tell him. The coffee finishes brewing and you remove the mug from underneath the nozzle. Moving towards the fridge to find the glass bottle of sweet cream, you continue, "I can tell you're not in the best mood this morning." As you move back towards the mug, Secondo intercepts you. He gently takes the cream from your hand and places it on the counter with a clink, then brushes the loose hair away from your face. He tilts your head up towards him with gentle hands. "What would I do without you?" He says, softer than is usual for him, and something inside you screams that he's saying the words he has yet to tell you since you began seeing each other.

"Suffer, probably," you quip with a little grin.

Secondo releases a huff that's supposed to be a laugh. He leans down and kisses you, still cradling your face in his hands. The smell of his cologne mixes with the aroma of the coffee to create a blend of just him. "Thank you, piccolina," he mutters against your lips.

He tries to pull away but your fists clutch his open shirt. "One more kiss? Please?" You practically beg. Not because you need it (although you cherish his kisses more than anything), but because he does.

He is in a very strange mood, you decide, because he doesn't hesitate to grant you one more kiss. And then another, and another. Usually Secondo would grumble about being late, and then kiss you anyway. But this morning he showers your lips in little pecks and smooches with no regard for how late he may or may not be.

Eventually though, he does pull away, and you let him. His coffee will get cold if you don't put the lid on the mug.

As Secondo turns to screw the lid on, you wrap your arms around him and press yourself against his back. "Try to have a good day, okay?" You mumble against his shoulder blade.

Secondo unwraps your arms so he can turn around in your hold. "What would make my day go well," he says lowly, placing his lips against the sensitive skin below your ear, "is if you visited my office at lunch."