Work Text:
Monroe is slow to wake up, the comfort of the blankets that cover him, as well as the body that is entwined around him, silently urging back to slumber. As his eyes flutter open, he glances down and sees a mess of dark hair, and feels a warm, steady breath against his chest.
That's when the memories from the previous night flood back to him. There had been a few microbrews shared, and some feelings talked about that neither he nor Nick would ever confess without some libation to first ease the words from their mouths. But once the dam had been breached, there was no way that they could go back to how they'd been before. Not that Monroe wanted to go back; he'd been almost enchanted by the Grimm since just about the time they'd met.
Trying to think back, Monroe digs into his memories, smiling as he remembers leaping through the window to tackle the trespassing detective. Sure, it was the second time that they'd met - but it was the first time he'd looked at Nick as a guy, and not as someone who was trying to hunt him down for a crime.
First thing that he'd noticed back then was the mop of hair that was barely mussed from being tackled. It looked a lot like what he's staring at now, closely trimmed, but messy. It'd taken everything in him that day to resist reaching out and stroking the dark hair, to release the slight dusting of glass that caught the light from the moon, giving Nick almost a halo effect. But now there's no reason to hold back now; not after the previous night.
Monroe reaches up, letting his fingers glide up Nick's bare back before gently letting them loose in the hair that was still just a bit sweat-dampened from the night before. Once he cards his fingers through the thick mane of hair, he leans down and drops a kiss against Nick's scalp, feeling the man gently stir against him.
It's then that Monroe breathes in deep into his lungs, taking as much scent of Nick as he can. Throughout everything in their past, from Nick losing Juliette, to Monroe seeking solace when Rosalee left the state, moving up to Washington to take care of family, the one constant was the warm, spicy scent that was Nick Burkhardt. He could happily drown himself in the scent that is both energizing, as well as calming; the epitome of the young detective. But now, with Nick in his arms, he could easily get drunk on the scent, and yet still yearn for more.
After running his fingers through Nick's hair again, Nick groans and offers a tender stretch, the quick breath of air escaping his mouth tickling the hair on Monroe's chest. Nick first buries his head deeper into Monroe, offering up a long span of creamy flesh with a strong pulse throbbing just below his jawline that just begs to be licked with each rhythmic throb. When Nick stirs again, Monroe finally takes his attention off the pulse point and smiles when he sees Nick gazing up into his eyes.
Those eyes... And those lips. Both compete for Monroe's attention, the lips gently swollen from a night of kissing, while steely-light grey eyes study him, the skin crinkled up at the corners. Monroe thinks that Nick's eyes are probably his favorite, most expressive feature. They could be dark - almost black - when he was brooding, yet nearly bright as the sky when he was happy, almost lighting up a room. But now those eyes hold a light color, saying volumes while his lips part only in a smile and his voice is lost.
Monroe studies Nick, knowing in his heart that Nick was his future - his purpose. That he would follow Nick to the gates of Hell if need be. He was his mate, his pack, which was something Monroe never thought he'd have again.
As he gazes into Nick's soulful eyes, Nick raises a hand and brings it to the side of Monroe's face, where it strokes gently against Monroe's bearded cheek. "Good morning," Nick finally says as he leans up and grabs a quick kiss, then buries himself closer against Monroe's chest, Monroe automatically wrapping his arms around Nick and holding him close.
Yes, indeed it was a good morning. But as Nick chuffs a yawn and squeezes Monroe tight, Monroe figures that it's not just a good morning; it's a great one.