Marjory au - Second kiddo

"I want another baby," Taako whispers in the dark. Soft as it is, his voice sounds like a blade's edge to Magnus' deprived senses. "You up to the challenge?"

They've talked about it. Not at great lengths, but on occasion, and in coded, wistful words like <em>she's getting so big</em> and <em>what are we gonna do with her basinet once she's outgrown it?</em>

Magnus says nothing, but runs his hands up Taako's thighs until they're settled on his hips. Their Marjory, their baby - not far from toddler, really - sleeps peacefully in her crib by the hearth, and Magnus <em>knows</em> with a knowing that feels life-defining, <em>absolute</em>, that he's exactly where he's meant to be.

Still, his heart is big. Room to spare. Taako's can accommodate plenty of love too, though he'd never admit it in words.

Magnus nods. Then, when he realises it's dark, he whispers back, <em>yeah</em>.

Then, when he remembers Taako is an elf, and night vision is a thing, he blushes.

Taako settles himself fully on Magnus' hips, and grinds down. If it's possible for his cheeks to redden further, he's sure they do.

"Do you remember? It was like this," another thrust, he's damp and bare under his sleep-shirt and Magnus' own body is growing interested, "when we made her."

"You can't-" and then, quieter, because <em>sleeping baby</em>, "you can't know that, though, right? We were trying for weeks." Magnus let his palms explore Taako's middle, the soft weight he decided he'd rather not lose after carrying their daughter. Up to the strong arms, from carrying Marjory and groceries and himself. Back down again, to thighs. Between those thighs.

"I think I knew," Taako breathes, and Magnus has to think for a moment to recall what they're talking about, "I think I knew straight away." A pause. "I know it's not meant to work like that."

There must be something about the dark, the silence. It makes them say things that wouldn't make sense in daylight. Magnus leans into it, and, physically, leans up to kiss his husband.

"Makes sense, though." One of them is shivering, ever so slightly. He can't tell which. "Tell me if- when it happens, this time."

He thinks he sees Taako nod as he presses into him, opening him with his fingers. It takes all his effort, not to- <em>explode</em>, somehow. To not rush this. If they make something of this - and gods, how his gut heats at the thought - he wants it to be <em>good</em>. Memorable.

Magnus soaks memories into his pores like he's a sponge, these days. He catches Taako doing the same, when they're trying Marjory on a new food, or when the dogs prod at her little belly. Gentle, like they know she's new.

Without sight or sound, he works doubly hard on committing this one to his mind too. Taako pulling him out of his shorts, slow, <em>burning</em> heat, the way his breath hitches right against Magnus' ear when he spills in him.

"Maybe we're crazy for this." Taako says after, knife-whispered as he lies on his back beside Magnus. He keeps his hips propped up, though, supported by a pillow.

"We probably are." Magnus agrees, and he's never felt so certain of anything.