Taagnus massage

The winter is good to them. Heavy snow is predicted this year; Magnus works a little less, on the town's projects and his own, and as mornings turn foggier, Taako finds his husband still in bed with him more often than not. It makes him want to keep them there all day.

"Rub my legs." Taako mumbles, scooting himself back more fully into the warmth of Magnus' chest. When Magnus huffs, humoured, he can feel where it comes from in his lungs.

"G'Morning to you too." He says, but his hand finds Taako's thigh in barely a moment, ever-warm palm kneading slow circles into the tendon. Taako trills gently and buries his face in the pillow, feeling drowsy all over again until Magnus' fingertips reach the elastic of one thick woollen stocking.

He can't help but smile at that, secretly.

"You… I like it when you wear these." Magnus manages, and without any permission Taako's heart skitters like wind through grass. He's so /honest/ when he's sleepy; all loose-lipped and eager. Taako can hardly bear it, even now that he knows to expect it. He wriggles until he's flipped, nose to nose, and with this stocking pulled higher than the other, Magnus' palm easily covers the expanse of skin between it and his underwear.

"I know you like 'em. You like me in just about anything."

His hand curls around to cup Taako's ass, smooth over it in a way that has Taako wishing he'd /grab/ a little, use it to pull their hips closer. "I like you in nothing too." Magnus says, somewhere between bravado and an embarrassed mumble.

Taako can't not giggle at that. "Stupid…" And then, softer, "I'll keep them on, if you're good."

Little snowflakes collect on the windowsill outside, but Magnus is always good, they are both kept warm.