deacon kay oneshots

better late than never [ ❥ ]

Deacon's arm lays gently over your waist beneath the covers, and is the first thing that registers in your senses when you start to come too. Even in sleep, his hand rests on the curve of your stomach and keeps you close against him where he lays behind you - so close that you can feel each rise and fall of his chest against your back, and each hitch in his breath as it ghosts across the back of your neck.

Even with all the leftover excitement still simmering inside you, when you wake fully it takes a few minutes for last night's events to come flooding back to you - and when they do, it takes every ounce of self-control that you possess to stop you from having an outward reaction to it. You have to settle for a stupidly big smile against the soft material of your pillow, and the addictive rush of delight that surges through you when you hold your hand up in front of your face and lay eyes on the ring sitting on your finger.

It's a thin, gold band that glitters when the sunlight filtering in through the curtains glances off of it. There's a neat arrangement of stones in the center that, while in no particular styling, you just can't seem to take your eyes off no matter how hard you study the ring. , even as a quiet grumble can be heard from behind you and Deacon shifts a little as he starts to wake.

"It's not going anywhere, y'know." He says softly after a minute, voice still gravelly with sleep but with an audible smile to it. The pillow you're sharing shifts under your head as he lifts his to peer over your shoulder to confirm that you're still as transfixed on the ring as you were last night, before ducking down to press a fond kiss to your shoulder. "You don't have to keep an eye on it."

"I know that." You agree with him, through a bright smile of your own. Twisting your hand, a beam of sunlight falls right across it and a cascade of prisms pours out of stones, shining down on the covers like your own personal rainbow. "S'just... I'm having a hard time convincing myself it's actually real."

Deacon squeezes your hip in a reassuring manner. His fingertips skim gently over your exposed skin and a shiver shoots down your back at the sensation, and he only moves closer to you as you arch ever so slightly back into his body.

"As real as real gets." He promises. A beat of silence passes, and when he speaks again there's a well-veiled notion of insecurity to his voice that you still manage to pick up. "Even if it took me a little while to get around to it."

You make a noise of disagreement under your breath. Shifting onto your back, he readies himself for a chastising comment but is pleasantly surprised when he's met with a soft look from you as you wrap your arms loosely around his neck to pull him in closer. "Better late than never, right?"