Work Text:
Marcus is still talking, a mile down the road and mostly to himself, of plans for the future. Without Esca getting a word in edgewise, he expounds at length on the best breeds of horses -- "Asturians, naturally!" -- and possible locations.
"Where in Hispania do you think we should settle?"
"But--" Esca tries.
"How about Gades?"
"I think--"
"The weather's nice there, eh?"
"Marcus!" Esca snaps, and he finally stops. "You're forgetting something."
Marcus blinks, confused. "Breed, location... what else?"
"This."
He pulls Marcus close and kisses him.
Marcus kisses him back, full of wonder and promise, and everything is perfect.