Chapter Four: And breaks the morning light

Like Alphys and Undyne, the newly married couple left early, though for different reasons. The time spent waiting for the chance to make love was gnawing away at their patience – especially after the Puzzle Dance – and while Mettaton was dancing and singing, they snuck out, practically running to New Home and locking all the doors behind them. (This had been arranged by Toriel and Asgore, and thus they had no chance of being interrupted.)

The moment they made it, Asriel was pinned against the closest wall and fiercely kissed by Frisk, her body going right up against his so close, he could feel how warm she already was. Asriel held tight, stumbling only when she licked his lips open and met his tongue with her own. Then he almost lost his balance, having missed her passion so much it almost hurt. "Frisk," he whispered, pulling at the cloth around her shoulders to pull it off, and she let him, breaking the kiss to do so but coming back into it once it was off. She pulled off his coat, then started pulling free the shirt beneath, something he was trying to do with her, as well. He said her name again, and she moaned his softly in reply, hooking a leg around his hips in order to feel his arousal against hers.

"Tell me... what to... do," he whispered between kisses. That was the true meaning of the Dance; the loser was at the mercy of the winner for the entire night and day following the wedding. She nodded, pulling him free from the wall and towards one of the old bedrooms – recently cleaned and remodelled – undressing him as they went, soon doing the same for herself.

Once they were both naked, Frisk pulled Asriel rather roughly to the bed, bringing him atop her at once, kissing him so hard and so closely he clung to her, his mind a haze of only her, and her of him. "Be with me," she ordered – pleaded, really – her hand already reaching down to grasp him and pull him close. He shuddered unable to help it, and once she had pulled him deep, he collapsed, kissing her with a deep growl. When he moved, unable to help it, she moved with him, her eyes shut and her teeth bared, the feel of him so wonderful, so missed, that she clung to him as hard as she could.

"More, Asriel, please," she begged, and he shifted in order to thrust deeper. Once she began to gasp and arch backwards, senseless now, he moved faster, unable to help himself. She didn't seem to mind one bit; her face got redder and redder, her eyes squeezed shut tight, his name on her lips each time he hit just right. "More, oh, more, Asriel, please!" she begged again, and he buried his face into her shoulder, feeling hot all over and so close, but more eager to get her there, first.

Then her nails dug into his shoulders and she gasped, her eyes snapping open and looking blind. She cried out his name, pleading, until she keened out, that sound that he knew so well by now. He slowed down ad she groaned, her eyes rolling up ad her breath catching low in her throat. She squirmed beneath him, then became almost boneless beneath him, clutching him tightly and jerking just a little bit, the aftershocks almost as intense as the first.

But Asriel wasn't done yet – not with her. When she caught her breath and opened her eyes, he started moving again, lowering down and resting his weight on his elbows, and she made a long, drawn out noise at that, gasping and crying out his name so sweetly he was the one clinging to her, kissing her again. She returned it, making small cries against his lips each time he thrust deep, until she murmured, "I think… I think I…I'm… again… Asriel… I-ah!" And again she was clutching tight, throwing her head back and practically shouting out. Her passion, her reaction, and the feel of her dissolved the last of his control, and he growled out her name in reply as he came, too – a rare thing, that.

For a long time, they lay together, kissing and caressing, talking about such personal things it would be rather nosy to record. Once Asriel had slipped beside her and pulled the blanket over them both, she was half-asleep, still floating on a cloud of pleasure.

But she whispered, "I love you, dear husband."

Asriel held her close, resting his cheek on her chest to listen to her heart. "I love you, darling wife," he agreed, tearing up. As she drifted into sleep, he cried softly, unable to believe his luck – before he, too, joined her in slumber.

There would be much more once they woke – especially at the hands of Frisk – but that would be later. Now, they slept, and dreamt only of each other.

The End