Deepwood Weald Realized I can't not be with you

Midar's chuckle sends heat through his ears and face, and for a moment it seems as if his request will go ignored. But the next moments are a blur, and suddenly he feels his lover's weight upon him, teeth snapping around his scruff. The mixture of pain and pleasure draws sound from him, soft moans and whines that grow louder and more tremulous as their coupling progresses. He's never been such a vocal lover, but he's far too lost in the act to feel embarrassed now. This is exactly what he needs, though he knows he'll be sore and perhaps a touch regretful in the morning. It doesn't matter now, at least.
He's exhausted by the time they part, wincing a little at Midar's unceremonious withdrawal. It takes a moment for him to collect himself, to steady his breathing and his trembling limbs. When he feels stable enough, he moves slowly to curl up against Midar's side. He closes his eyes, letting out a breath as he settles, and realizes belatedly that anyone could have seen them. The thought triggers a twinge of anxiety in his chest, but he's too worn to give it much consideration. And if he was going to think about anything right now, he would start with the heavy sense of dread coiled in the pit of his stomach — but he's not going to think about anything. Not right now.