Deepwood Weald If you're gonna be the death of me, that's how I want to go

Their coupling steals most of his energy, as it usually does, and he finds no reason to resist when Midar urges him to the ground with a gentle nip. He sinks down against his lover with a soft sigh, tucking himself against him and nuzzling into his fur as he settles. A warm glow has made its home in his chest, and for a time he's content to allow silence to fall between them. But his thoughts continue to bubble under the surface, and before long he finds them spilling from his mouth, soft and slightly muffled but impossible to stop.
I love you. I know I say that a lot but — I really mean it. I-I never would have thought someone like you would want to be with someone like me — or that I could love someone this much and — and not lose them, or fuck it up — and sometimes it doesn't really feel real. But — He falters for a moment, realizing he's rambling and that he doesn't really know where he's going with this, but he's in too deep to turn back — so he sucks in a breath and tries to find some sort of point to get to. It feels real right now, and I just — wanted you to know, I guess. Embarrassed, he tucks himself closer, burying his face more firmly in Midar's fur as if he could disappear into it and forget that he's just made a complete fool of himself.