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It started with Lyney wanting to check out some of the new props and tricks he had received. He found one escape trick, a tight space meant for one person, and squeezed into it without a moment of hesitation. You stood a few paces away, feeling that mix of fond exasperation that comes with being in a relationship with this guy, and made the decision to pull him out before he actually got stuck.
And then you tripped.
You ended up falling right into the box with him, and your eyes went wide as the door swung shut behind you… and locked. Lyney held the only key, but he was pinned beneath you.
That is how you have both gotten to this point. There is not a lot of room to move around here, and you are very much unhappy with how things have turned out.
“Nice going, Lyney,” you say.
“You’re the one who tripped and fell in here!” he protests. He does not sound stressed in the slightest. You know that he regrets nothing.
“And now we’re both stuck,” you deadpan. You feel his arm squirming between your bodies, and you cannot help but relax a bit when he manages to free it — it is the one holding the key, after all. But Lyney does not reach past you to free you both from your shared predicament. You shoot a glare his way.
“Lyney!” you hiss. “This is the worst possible time for—“
“Eh, there’s been worse conditions,” Lyney replies with a stiff, slight shrug. He would be more dramatic about it were he not so limited by the lack of space. “Besides, it feels sort of nice to be so close to each other, don’t you think?”
“We fucked literally last night,” you say.
“Exactly. It’s been too long,” he replies smugly.
“It’s been less than twelve hours!”
Lyney gives an exasperated sigh, too loud and dramatic to be genuine. “Come on, please?”
“You get a kiss,” you say firmly.
“Five kisses,” Lyney shoots back.
“Three. Take it or leave it.”
Lyney hesitates, and then he sighs again, as if your final offer is the biggest inconvenience of his life. “Fine. Three kisses, and we’re starting… now!”
He leans forward and presses his lips to yours, opening up immediately when you brush your tongue against them. You do not go all out, since this is only the first of three, but you feel him squirm a little. His body tenses, then relaxes, then tenses again, and you know he is enjoying your shared predicament more than he should.
Oh, well. Nothing new here.
You pull away from the first kiss so you both can breathe, and he is panting slightly. It is dark in the box, but you are sure his face is flushed. You know him intimately, and you know that he is laughably easy to rile up.
When he has recovered from the first kiss, you lean in for the second. But he whispers, “Wait.”
You pause, waiting for him to elaborate. When he does, you know that you are not getting out of this box anytime soon.
“My neck next,” he requests.
“We are not doing this in a gods-damned stage prop,” you retort. Absolutely not — not only is it not exactly private, but it is also new and meant for performances! The sanitary violations alone are enough to veto this.
“You don’t even have to mark it!” Lyney pleads. “Just don’t make it last less than ten seconds. Please?”
“I can’t believe you,” you mutter, but if it gets you both out of here, you will do what you have to. You press a kiss to his neck, flicking your tongue against where your lips meet his skin. He shudders beneath you. Just to be petty, you pull away after eleven seconds, and he whines.
“You did that on purpose,” he complains.
“And that alone tells me that you were counting as well,” you deadpan. “Where do you want the third kiss?”
Before Lyney can answer, you both hear footsteps coming into the room. You tense up, but Lyney seems relatively calm. You wait for the owner of the footsteps to leave, but they do not seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. To make matters worse, you quickly find out who walked in.
“Lyney?” Lynette calls out. “I haven’t seen you since breakfast. Are you here? Did you get stuck?”
You would whisper for Lyney to keep his mouth shut, but Lynette’s biology guarantees that she would hear you and find you both in this compromising position. So you do the next best thing to keep him quiet, and you kiss him on the lips again. This time, you do go all out, and you feel his free hand clasp your hip, the key pinned between it and you.
“Lyney?” Lynette calls again, and you pray to the Hydro Archon that she gives up soon. You wince into the kiss as you feel Lyney’s hips press harder against your leg, and you know he is enjoying the thrill of this entire situation much, much more than he should be. You would chew him out for it were Lynette not less than ten feet away.
After what feels like an eternity of pacifying Lyney with kisses, Lynette calls out to someone else. “Freminet, he’s not here, either.”
She leaves, and you pull away with a gasp for air. As Lyney catches his breath as well, you hiss, “Really? With your own sister so close?!”
“It’s exciting,” Lyney protests.
“Not as exciting as getting caught and likely snitched on!” you snap back. “And you know she’d tell the Knave about it!”
Lyney winces. “Yeah, Father finding out wouldn’t be that great… but—“
“You got your kisses,” you interrupt. “Now get us out of here.”
“But now I’m hard,” Lyney whines. “What’ll I do? Everyone will know.”
“You can tie my jacket around your waist,” you reply. “Now let us out.”
Lyney still hesitates. You sigh. “I’ll fuck you as much as you want in private if you get us out of here.”
Finally, Lyney relents. “Okay,” he says reluctantly, too much so to be anything other than a facade. “You promise?”
You hate rewarding bad behavior, but you agree anyway. “I promise.”
You have never seen him so quick to unlock a door in your life.