princehonorable | (no subject)

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snow

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Currently, Charming is occupied in a great and terrible staring bout with a black and white fuzzy creature. His mother had a dog like this when he was little more than a boy, but it's not the same one. The patches are different, for a start, and so is the temperament. The odder thing, of course, is the presence of the dog in his and Snow's bedroom.

And it's staring at him.

"Hello," Charming says warily, tipping his head to one side to see if the dog responds to him. He does little more than give a whine. "Are you supposed to be somewhere? I'd remember if you were mine." Which is almost a joke in and of itself, given that there are still small gaps in his memory, as if fate is holding out one last joke on him. "Snow?" Charming summons. "There's something here you may want to see!"

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She's reaching a point of no return, feeling so overcome by her ecstasy that she nearly breathes a sob against his lips. If she were an outside observer, watching their total surrender to love and passion would be enough to make her blush, but here in their bed with him she doesn't care how she looks. The only warning she can give him is a sharp cry, a sudden burst of sound before she shudders over and around him, clutching onto him for dear life as she rides through the cresting waves of true pleasure.

He knows that it's likely too optimistic and too early to hope for anything to come of this, but Charming is the positive type and he wants to believe that they might conceive a child of their efforts. Even if they don't, he hardly sees a need to ever stop practicing. "Snow," he murmurs, shivering when he can hold out no longer and comes.

Her world shatters around her and then slowly flies back into one piece again as she feels him join her in tipping over the edge. Yet she doesn't stop moving despite her uncontrollable trembling, wanting to take everything he gives her in the hopes that something will come of all of this. "Charming," she breathes, a sated smile on her lips as a few residual spirals course through her body and she stretches out over him, moaning softly.

"I'm glad you still think me so charming," he breathes out the words, hitched and broken as he wraps his arms around her snugly, not wanting to be a single inch from her, if that's possible.

"Mmm, more than," she whispers, a few strands of hair falling in front of her face when she turns her head to rest her cheek against his chest, effectively splayed out with limbs in all directions.

"Are you alright?" She's smiling through the words, contentedly chuckling at the end of the question.

He laughs, sticky and warm and filled with nothing but pleasurable sensations. Dragging an arm around her waist, he tries to coax her to lie down aside him. "Honestly, I never think we can outdo ourselves and we manage it. Every time."

"It's a game I have no problem with continuing to play," she teases, obediently rolling off of him to one side while keeping her arm thrown lazily across his middle. "Over and over and over."

Charming hardly lets her go too far, giving a soft murmur as he pulls her close enough that he can still feel her warmth. "If we do have another child, I'd like to think Emma would approve, wherever she is."

"Well, she wouldn't exactly approve of this, how we got to making another one," she replies, similarly soft. "I don't want to traumatize our daughter any more than we have to normally as parents."

"She missed out on that," Charming murmurs, brushing his fingers softly over her face. "We never got to see her as a teenager. We never got to embarrass her by being inappropriate the way parents are. Even when she was here, seeing as she never accepted the truth," he admits, the pain still affecting him greater than he wants it to.

The mood isn't broken, not completely, but Snow's face subtly falls in the wake of the conversation shifting into one about Emma. "I feel like she was beginning to come around to the idea, maybe," she murmurs, a little sadness evident in her voice even as she attempts to mask it with optimism. "Or at least closer to the belief that we weren't just from Storybrooke."

"Maybe with you, but she certainly didn't want to give me an inch, let alone a mile," Charming admits, pressure pushing his lips downwards into a frown, given that he hardly knows what to feel about such a thing. "You had a connection. She and I...we didn't have that."

"I know," Snow whispers, a little disheartened that Emma hadn't been able to have the same bond with her father that they had. "Although she'd still really only looked at me as a friend, a roommate. I don't think she was completely willing to start calling me 'Mom'."

"You hardly look like her mother," he points out. "We're barely older than her," he concedes, and for all that he feels immensely old, at times, there are others when he feels half his age and still learning the way around the world.

"My stepmother took all of that away from us," Snow murmurs, her eyes stinging unexpectedly as she blinks back the sudden burst of tears that well up at the thought of all she's missed out on, all they've lost as a result of that curse. "She was so determined to ruin my happiness - our happiness."

"It doesn't matter," he insists sharply. "I don't care how much pain she brought on us. I'd rather suffer a thousand curses than to think of a life in which I never met you," he says, bowing forward to press his forehead to hers. "We have true love," he says with a fond smile. "We can conquer anything, provided we stay true to ourselves."

She smiles, the weight of his ring on her finger as firm a reminder as the warmth of his embrace, and she tilts her face up to his to kiss him, sweet and sure. "I never had any doubts when it came to you," she whispers. "No uncertainties."

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