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Where once the unfamiliar sound of wind whistling through an open window would have awoken him, Aymeric instead continued to slumber on peacefully, unaware of the intruder that had stolen into his bedchambers.
He had been exhausted from the day’s events, mediating a handful of long meetings between the House of Lords and Commons both. He’d had to deal with the minutia of the various contracts written up by and for the Skybuilders that continued to toil in the Firmament, discuss the implications of the trade deals that Lord Francel and Lord Charlemend both had managed to strike up with merchants across the Alliance–and even in his dreams did he continue to hold meetings.
As such, the quiet rasp of the bed sheets being pulled stirred him not. Nor did the gentle touch of a cold hand to his hip. It was only when a soft, gravelly chuckle sounded that he was finally roused. Confused, Aymeric raised his head.
In his sleep-muddled state, all he could see was a dark figure covering his own; the soft brush of silken locks against his cheeks. “Who–?” was all that Aymeric could say ere his lips were covered by another’s.
The body above his was yet wind-chilled but the hands that moved to grip his wrists were of a familiar size and touch. Callouses on his hands where his thumbs met his palms, fingers that were long and slender yet incredibly strong.
It could only be Estinien.
The dreams of dry conversations with fellow Lords and Representatives melted away under the heat of his touch.
He relaxed into the kiss, his body all but limp beneath that of his lover’s. The hands at Aymeric’s wrists moved up his arms, dragging the silk flax of his sleeves up along with his slow ascent. It had been far too long since he’d last been touched this way. The touch near seared , leaving trails of fire in the wake of where his fingers traveled.
And how slowly did those fingers make their way to the front of his shirt, pulling free the buttons that held the fabric clasped. Ilm by ilm was his shirt pulled open, his skin bared to the cold air within the room.
Aymeric shivered, a quiet groan at the back of his throat. He covered those hands with his own, keeping them in place before they could go too far southward.
“You’ve gotten lax, Lord Speaker.” Estinien murmured at long last, his lips as soft as morpho’s wings upon his own. His low voice was more akin to the rumbling of dragons in the deep of the night. “It seems you’ve glutted upon luxury and comfort and have lost any vigilance you’ve once had.”
Aymeric broke from the kiss, turning his head to the side to laugh. “Is it not a sign of Ishgard’s prosperity that I have become so? I should think it to be an extolment to the actions of the House of Lords and Commons both.”
Aymeric smiled, opening his eyes to see Estinien draw back enough to stare down at him.
Menphina Herself seemed to shroud Estinien from his lover’s eyes, casting the majority of his body in shadow; mayhap it was Her gift, bestowing upon him an air of mystery and allure. Dark as it was, he couldn’t see more than the faint outline of his face and body, painted in a nimbus of silver by the moonlight. Nevertheless, Estinien seemed hale and hearty from what little he could see.
Aymeric reached up to touch Estinien’s face, feeling how cool it still was from the Coerthan wind. Estinien turned his head to kiss his palm. It afforded Aymeric the sight of his quicksilver eyes for they finally caught the pale light of the moon.
“Welcome home,” Aymeric replied warmly, rubbing his thumb against Estinien’s cheek. “You’ve been well-missed.”
“That sounds like a veiled complaint that I’ve been away too long.” Estinien shook Aymeric’s hand off of his own, palms now flat upon his abdomen and fingers loosely curled around the curve of his waist. He splayed his fingers across his skin, squeezing him gently. “Shall I make up for it?”
Aymeric’s smile widened for all that a blush now bloomed across his own face. The proposition was no subtle one.
“... Mayhap you shall. But you can start by closing the window, my love.” Aymeric said in reply, gently prying Estinien’s hands from his waist and nudging him back. He laughed once more at the scoff that sounded from Estinien.
He watched how his lover pulled away, stalking over to the window he’d broken through into his chambers and closing it with a firm strike of his palm. Estinien even took a moment to turn the lock, a simple act that had taken near a decade for Aymeric coax Estinien into doing without being asked.
“Very good.” Aymeric praised, the words aimed to tease. He could see how Estinien’s back straightened at his words. He wasn’t sure if it was a positive reaction or not, but the lack of gruff rebuttal from Estinien hinted that it wasn’t unwelcome. “It seems you can be tamed into a semblance of civility,” he continued with a smile.
“If that was a quip aimed at my upbringing, it is most unlike you, Lord Speaker. Paragon of virtue and civility that you are,” Estinien snorted. “Is my lordship scared of a little chill? Shall I stoke the flames so that you don’t freeze?”
“The fire has died down some since the evening. Put a few more logs into the stove, if it should please you, then join me once more in my bed.” Aymeric paused, adding, “Your presence would be most welcomed.”
It seemed enough to spur Estinien into action. He watched how Estinien quickly moved to throw logs into the wood stove, grabbing the poker to coax the embers back to life with clear impatience. Only when the logs finally caught flame did he close the stove up and dust the ash from his hands, pulling his outerwear off as he walked back towards the bed.
In the growing brightness of the room, Aymeric could see Estinien in far more detail now. Stripped as he was now of his shirt, he could see old and new scars alike, the mottled skin of his burns, the malms of gloriously tanned and warm skin shrouded by remnant scales of Nidhogg’s possession.
Aymeric didn’t have the heart to tell him to wash his hands nor to pick up the clothing he left strewn across the floor, instead pulling the sheets back enough to welcome Estinien to join him. He would rather have streaks of soot across his sheets than to miss out on Estinien’s presence any longer. And it seemed Estinien had the same idea.
Aymeric let out a startled cry when Estinien all but jumped atop of him, the breath knocked out of him from the force by which Estinien landed. But he recovered swiftly, wrapping his arms around Estinien. His was a comforting weight upon his own body.
Estinien let out a sigh against his neck, his breath hot and muggy against his skin. He seemed to sag, going limp atop of him. His thigh was pushed between Aymeric’s, their ankles hooked and his palms scorching where one was buried in his hair and the other shoved between the mattress and Aymeric’s back.
Aymeric was starved of his lover’s touch; this was more than enough to satisfy that need. Pressed from head to toe, every ilm seemingly joined as if there was no beginning nor end to either of their bodies.
He could feel the strong beat of Estinien’s heart in his chest where it was pressed against his own. The musty smell of his skin, carrying hints of exotic spices and old forest growth both; though it prickled at him to tell Estinien to wash the grime of his travels away, the itch of his absence was enough to keep Aymeric silent. Instead, he buried his face into Estinien’s spun-silver hair where it came loose from its tie, pressing the occasional kiss to his shoulder and neck and ear.
Each time his lips brushed the shell of his ear, he could feel how Estinien shivered. Where their hips were pressed to one another, he could feel how he stirred–but it seemed that Estinien had no plans in escalating things for the moment.
There they lay together for a long while, mutually enjoying their proximity. Estinien finally stirred, removing some of his weight from Aymeric by shifting more onto his elbows and knees.
“I’ve been away,” Estinien whispered against his neck. Though Aymeric remained silent in wait, Estinien didn’t continue.
“Your travels take you far from home,” he said finally.
Estinien continued to stay silent. Aymeric could feel the flutter of his eyelashes against his neck, sending a shiver down his spine at the delicate touch. “... Does it not bother you?”
Aymeric let out a sigh.
“It would be a lie to say that it doesn’t.” He admits quietly. “I miss you terribly when you go. However, the good that you do in your travels–you do , Estinien, I know you.” Aymeric interrupted himself when Estinien shifted in preparation to protest. “You would help those in need without word nor acknowledgement, for all that you abase yourself. You are… needed in the world beyond Ishgard, Estinien. And you are who you are, Estinien. I would not change you, even should Halone Herself come down and offer such a miracle.”
Estinien’s grip tightened on his hair and back, nails digging in. They felt sharp, almost like claws, but still Estinien was careful enough to not draw blood.
“While I was away…” He began slowly, voice rougher than usual. “There was an incident. It made me worry.” He didn’t elaborate any further, his arms tightening around Aymeric. His weight bore heavily onto Aymeric once more. “I am glad you feel this way, though I am–... I am sorry that I cannot be here for you as you rightfully deserve.”
“My place is here in Ishgard.” Aymeric kissed his temple. “And your place is where your heart takes you.”
Estinien let out a grunt. All that could be heard following that moment was the distant crackling of the fire and their quiet breathing.
With Aymeric’s chest bared as it was, he could fair believe that he could feel Estinien's heart beating within his chest against his own skin. This quiet intimacy was soothing aches that he hadn’t realised he had. He had dearly missed Estinien–and there was a strange form of tension that being able to feel his weight atop of himself relieved.
It almost felt like he was coming undone. Estinien’s arms were the thread by which he was held together.
Eventually, however, Estinien loosened his grip on Aymeric and sat up.
“Must needs make good on my word,” Estinien stated gruffly. “Are you busy in the morning? And is the oil in its usual place?”
The abrupt shift in mood had Aymeric bark out a surprised laugh.
“No–I shouldn’t be too busy… So long as I send in word to Handeloup, he should be able to handle the morning’s duties.” He explained, shifting up so that he could reach over to the sidetable and open the second drawer. As he retrieved the vial of lubricant, he could feel the mattress shift beneath him and the rustling of clothes.
Estinien moved away from the bed, undressing as messily as he usually did with his trousers now joining his abandoned shirt. He then ordered, “Put it aside. I will join you shortly.” He walked over to the wash basin near the door, grabbing a towel and dipping it into the now-lukewarm water and wiping himself down haphazardly.
Aymeric looked away when he realised how he seemed to pay special attention to his groin; Estinien clearly intended on taking things as far as he possibly could.
“—Could you lock the door, Estinien?” He asked as he followed suit in undressing himself, attempting to push aside his fluster.
“Didn’t lock it? Wasn’t expecting any night-time visitors, then.”
Aymeric shook his head. “You’d be the only one welcomed, anyhow.”
Estinien snorted, but made no further comment.
His sleepwear was carefully folded and placed on the sidetable by the time Estinien returned to his side, the door now locked and Estinien’s body wiped of most of the grime brought upon by his travels.
Aymeric tried not to react self-consciously at Estinien’s obvious double-take at the sight of his aroused state. But how could he not be enticed? Estinien had ever been an aphrodisiac; the sight of his naked form, the anticipation of being filled once more by his lover—it had left him hard and wanting just at the very thought.
“You’re a sight to behold,” Estinien murmured, his heated eyes raking his form without any qualms whatsoever. “You missed me, didn’t you? Show me.”
“... I did. But how exactly?” Aymeric asked. There were a thousand thousand ways in which he could display his desire—and each of them more base than the last. It would be embarrassing, but if it were Estinien’s request, he would be more than willing to indulge his whim.
Estinien hummed. “On your stomach. Raise your hips… knees apart.”
Ah. It was a particularly vulnerable pose that Estinien wanted from him. Aymeric could feel his blush only worsen as he lay back on the bed, turning over onto his stomach and posing as Estinien had requested.
The considering and pleased hum sounding from his lover spurred him to arch his back, attempting to make the already lewd sight a little more appealing. But his tense back worked against him, making him wince and straighten his back again.
“Here… put these under your belly.” Estinien murmured softly, pulling a stack of cushions over. “I want you comfortable.” He aided Aymeric in situating himself on the cushions, his hands lingering on his hips to squeeze his backside. “How long has it been since you last touched yourself?” He was then asked.
“Far too long, I must admit.” Aymeric murmured, his breath hitching as Estinien used his thumbs to push his cheeks apart. He pressed his face into the crook of his elbow, his ears no doubt burning bright red as Estinien made a sound of consideration, using one thumb to rub against his entrance. He was being inspected , and it was as mortifying as it was arousing in its own way. “At least the past two sennights…” He added when Estinien remained silent.
“Surprised you were able to hold out for so long without something filling you,” came finally the next comment. Though Aymeric opened his mouth to protest it, Estinien didn’t seem to care for his affront. Instead, he continued to press his fingertip against him, not quite breaching him. “So tight as if you’ve been untouched… Was work truly that busy? Or were you waiting for me to take care of you, Aymeric?”
Aymeric could hear the sound of the vial being uncorked and he braced himself for the cold touch of oil on his skin. But no such feeling came. Instead, he felt Estinien’s palm once more on his arse where he rubbed circles into his skin. He occasionally pressed his thumb lower, into the cleft where he could brush his thumb against his sack. Estinien seemed to enjoy his flinch, the way he twitched from head to the tip of his cock.
But he did naught else after.
“… Estinien?” Aymeric called out.
“Answer me.” It was clear Estinien planned not to continue until he made more embarrassing admissions.
He shook his head in grievance.
“If you insist … it was a mixture of both. I kept myself busy so that I wouldn’t have to yearn in your absence. Mine own hands hardly satisfy after having known yours.”
There was another pause. When Aymeric chanced a look over his shoulder, Estinien seemed surprised. There was a faint grin on his lips when he recovered, moving closer to lean over Aymeric’s prone form.
Aymeric sighed when he felt lips on his lower back, tipping his head forward once more.
Estinien’s huff was not quiet. His breath was hot against his skin. “Your mouth was always sweet, even when we were yet Knights. Worry not, Lord Speaker. You will be left entirely satisfied. Knees farther apart, Aymeric, if you can.”
Aymeric could feel Estinien draw back as he did as he was directed. His thighs were now spread apart as far as possible without any discomfort. Though he wasn’t quite as flexible as Estinien himself was, there was ample space for Estinien to settle between; judging by how the bed dipped behind him, it seemed Estinien had readjusted his position to seat himself between his knees.
He then startled when the cold vial was pressed against the back of his thigh. He shuddered as Estinien slowly moved the vial up his leg.
“You’ve made another one of your promises to keep,” he murmured softly.
“I am aware.”
Aymeric let out a startled cry when cold oil was unceremoniously dumped onto his backside, slipping down his thighs and his cock. He jolted upright, propping himself up onto his elbows momentarily. However, Estinien bothered not to apologise, instead swiping his hand through the mess and pressing a finger into him.
Estinien chuckled. “Relax, Aym. I can barely get inside of you.”
“—‘Tis most difficult when there is ice running down one’s nethers.” Aymeric refuted tersely.
“Mine apologies, Lord Speaker. I’ll see to your discomfort immediately,” came the sarcastic response. But Estinien did as he said; a scorching hot palm was soon felt on his arousal, rubbing the oil and warming it up with his skin. “Lay back down.”
A moan most obscene was coaxed from Aymeric’s throat following this. The sennights of celibacy had taken its toll in the form of his sensitivity and Estinien’s rough palm was far more intense than he could ever recall it being. That coupled with the finger that was slowly worked in and out of him soon had him laying entirely prone upon the mattress, his face pressed to the sheets and arms stretched above his head in submission.
“There you go. Might actually be able to take my cock tonight if you keep yourself relaxed like this. You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?” Estinien asked, a smirk evident just from the tone of his voice. “Probably dreamt about it, knowing you, fantasised about having me inside of you with that guilty look on your pretty face. There’s nothing you love more than having your ass filled.”
The filth he spewed was spoken with the sole intent of getting Aymeric to squirm. And it was certainly working. Aymeric gripped the sheets within his fists, his blush returning with full force. He could feel the tips of his ears burning, no doubt coloured bright pink at this point.
“Admit it, Aymeric,” Estinien continued speaking with a very conspicuous smugness in his voice. “You had to work late into the night, burying your head into your papers so that you wouldn’t think about how much you wanted this inside of you.”
Aymeric could feel his cock rub against his thigh to punctuate what he said. Long and thick, half-hard as it was, it still evoked a quiet moan from Aymeric at the memory of having it inside of him.
Estinien didn’t have to do much else to coax Aymeric into admitting things he would otherwise be too embarrassed to say.
“I have said it before,” Aymeric confessed, his words somewhat muffled by virtue of his prone pose. “I missed you. Your touch is—by far—something I yearned for over mine own. There is little else that could substitute for the feeling of you inside of me.”
He was rewarded with another gentle kiss to his back; Estinien seemed satisfied with his words. The single finger inside of him became two; the hand palming his cock moved to run trails up and down his body.
Estinien seemed particularly fascinated with the scars on his back; he ran his thumb up and down along the marks that crisscrossed his skin, his nails catching along the oldest ones. Some were far more sensitive than others, causing him to gasp out at the sharp scrape of his nails.
He was also intent on dragging things out. He moved his fingers steadily in and out, intentionally slow in his movements. Dragging his fingertips along his inner walls less to stimulate and more to hint at the pleasure to come… it was rather infuriating, feeling him rub his prostate slowly .
There was barely any physical satisfaction to be found, but the anticipation of it had Aymeric shifting uneasily.
“Estinien, I am not like to withstand much… Abstinence has affected me far more than I had realised,” Aymeric warned.
“Understood,” came Estinien’s quiet response. His palm smoothed over his lower back, fingertips rubbing against the dips in his muscles. “You were never this soft. The days spent at your desk are at the expense of your body.”
Distracted as he was, Aymeric was slow to reply. “–A sacrifice that I had to make to ensure Ishgard’s republic didn’t collapse on itself,” he said in a far too breathless voice. “I suspect that I shall not see battle easily these days.”
Estinien hummed. “A shame. You are in your element upon the field.” As he spoke, he curled his fingers just so , eliciting a quiet moan from Aymeric. “T’was your valour that first caught mine eye.”
Aymeric shivered. “Less valour… More concern that you were chasing your own death had I not followed you.”
“A hero, then, and a humble one.” Estinien stated with a snort. He pulled his fingers out with a swift motion and he seemed to relish how Aymeric tensed up beneath him.
The sudden emptiness was disconcerting–and dissatisfying . It certainly didn’t help matters that Estinien’s thumb continued to rub circles against his entrance, teasing his rim with each pass.
“You’re twitching as if you want me to fill you right this second even if it hurts you.”
It was far from characteristic for Estinien to be so playful , especially in bed. Aymeric couldn’t help his distant confusion. Nevertheless, his rebuke was full of reproach. “Estinien…”
“I’ve thought about this… quite a lot. You prostrate before me, all but begging for me to take you. How long would it take to get you to give up your pride?” Estinien continued to speak, his smugness making its return. “Say it now. Do you want me to fuck you without the teasing?”
Another uncharacteristic event: Estinien asking him his boundaries ere initiating. It was far more commonplace for Aymeric to state when he should stop.
“Please… no teasing,” Aymeric said after a moment’s thought. “At the very least, this time around.”
“Too pent up, then.” Estinien’s hands moved to his thighs. “Mine apologies, Aymeric. I hadn’t realised how desperate you were.”
Aymeric flushed. “I wouldn’t say that I’m despera– oh!”
Before he knew it, Estinien had picked him up by his legs, eliciting a surprised gasp as his lower half was brought flush against Estinien’s groin. The hard line of Estinien’s cock against his arse was all too obvious.
“Heavens, Aymeric…” Estinien murmured. “You’re trembling.” One of his hands moved from his thigh to hold him up.
Aymeric realised then he was right. He exhaled shakily, loosening his grip on the sheets. “Mine apologies,” he said helplessly.
“Nothing to apologise for. It’s been a while, has it not? Just relax for me.” Estinien’s hand was warm where it cradled his belly, fingers stroking the skin there as best as he could, pinned as it was between his body and the cushion below. “I’ll give you what you need.”
He near bit his own tongue when the tip of Estinien’s cock was pressed up against his rim, his head tipping forward as he was slowly breached. Though Estinien had prepared him, it had been long enough since they’d last bedded that it was a slow process.
Aymeric could hear Estinien grunt, clearly just as uncomfortable as Aymeric was. He tried to relax, though he couldn’t help a quiet hiss from escaping him. He reached back, covering Estinien’s hand upon his thigh with his own.
“We need more oil,” Aymeric breathed out softly.
“Yeah. I know.” Estinien shifted behind him, uncorking the vial once again. He didn’t dump the oil on Aymeric like he had previously, instead evidently warming it in his palm before he smeared it over the skin where they were joined.
They both gasped when Estinien was able to push deep inside of him in a few brief strokes; Estinien’s low and quiet moan was entirely indecent. The sound of his voice went straight to Aymeric’s cock, making him jolt and tense up in an attempt to stave off a premature end to their night.
Estinien was near scalding inside of him, so aware was he to his full length buried deep in his body. The short discomfort of the stretch was swiftly overtaken by the muted pleasure of being filled; there was no denying their physical connection like this.
There was a small thought in Aymeric’s head that he would be ecstatic to stay like this indefinitely. Estinien wasn’t entirely wrong when saying he loved being filled.
“Fury’s tits ,” Estinien grunted. “Loosen up, Aymeric. You’re holding me like a vice.”
Aymeric felt Estinien’s hands kneading his arse, thumbs pulling his cheeks apart as if that would encourage him to loosen up . “It would be far easier if you would stop doing that,” he retorted, embarrassment giving his words more bite.
“It’s a pretty sight,” Estinien replied. Despite the breathless quality to his voice, he sounded amused. “You’re all stretched out around my dick, taking me like you were made for it.”
“ Estinien. ” The call of his name was more of a weak plea to stop.
“You tighten up every time I say something of the like. Drivel about how you’re made for my cock, saying things about how you’ve been moulded to fit me perfectly. Noticed it years ago; it seems you like the sound of my voice speaking filth.”
Aymeric was too chagrined to admit it. Estinien’s variant of pillow talk inspired feelings of arousal and humiliation both, and he wouldn’t ever confess the former. “Estinien… I refused the teasing.”
“Mmhm.” Estinien finally went quiet as he rolled his hips, slowly moving in and out of him. “It’s going to hurt if I swive you like I want to. Need to go slow.” The warning was grunted out, more as an afterthought.
Aymeric nodded. His grip on the sheets tightened as Estinien continued to drive his cock into him, each stroke slow but deep .
He couldn’t deny his discomfort, grimacing into the privacy of his forearm at the familiar ache of his entrance being stretched wide over and over.
But soon enough, as it ever did, it all gave way to a gradual pleasure. The strokes came with more frequency, easier even discounting the aid given by the slickness of the oil.
“Aymeric…” Estinien’s voice was somehow deeper than usual, almost as if rumbling from within a pit in his chest. “Ready?”
Aymeric chanced a glance over his shoulder and he could see how Estinien’s eyes were slitted. The remnant scales had multiplied, covering more of his neck, shoulder and arms.
“Oh… Fury , yes.”
Aymeric felt how Estinien readjusted his grip to hold him securely around his waist. The new grip allowed Estinien to manoeuvre him as he pleased.
Manhandled in this way, Aymeric soon found himself moaning obscenely as Estinien thrust into him hard, the strength in his thighs all too evident in the brutal pace he was swift to set.
Claw tips dug into the soft flesh of his belly; rapid breaths—far too hot for an elezen—puffed against his neck ere sharp fangs dug into his shoulder. Estinien hissed for air against his skin. When he released Aymeric from his jaws, the rumbling sound of his voice was unintelligible.
Though at first Aymeric thought it to be indistinct words, he finally registered the sound of certain syllables. It was Dragonstongue. Estinien hadn’t seem to realise he’d stopped speaking Common, but Aymeric was hardly in a state to tell him. His face was buried into the mattress in a pitiful attempt to muffle his voice.
It didn’t take long before Estinien fucked him through a blinding and sudden orgasm.
Gasping into the sheets and trembling, Aymeric was further surprised when a fist grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. He groaned from the sharp pain, shaking from the tight arch of his back and sensitivity both.
Estinien had stilled his hips, his cock yet hard and buried deep inside of him. He’d yet to reach his end, but he didn’t seem preoccupied with finding it.
“Aymeric…” Estinien’s guttural voice all but crooned. He was kissed like this, the hand moving from his hair to his throat to support him. “Aymeric…” He slipped into more Dragonstongue in between his possessive and claiming kisses. With Aymeric’s limited knowledge on the language, he could parse out a few words that he spoke.
Love was the one primarily repeated; feeling was another.
“Oh, Halone… You feel amazing,” Aymeric murmured, trying to respond to what was doubtlessly Estinien’s praise.
The words seemed to do something for Estinien. He paused briefly, pulling himself out of Aymeric in a single slick movement to then roll him onto his back. Aymeric wasn’t given much time to react to the sudden emptiness before Estinien pressed his cock back in, his eyes blazing as he stared down at him hungrily.
He groaned lowly, head falling back.
In his new position, he could see how the scales that had dotted Estinien’s chest, hips and shoulders truly covered him like that of an au ra’s; the colour was, once frightening, the same hue as that of Nidhogg’s… but the glow and look of his eyes was yet the steely blue that belonged to him.
Estinien had once restrained himself to prevent Aymeric from seeing him like this. That he no longer did so was gratifying.
“How many times more can you go?” Estinien asked, the draconic influences on his body lending his voice an otherwise foreign sibilance. “Can you go another round?”
Spent as he was, Aymeric couldn’t deny Estinien anything when he looked like this. “Yes—I can,” he confirmed breathlessly. “But go slowly… I can’t go a second time so quickly.”
“Of course.” Estinien leaned in to kiss him where he could reach. “Just don’t blame me when you can’t walk in the morning.”