Hideaway Strath I taste you on my tongue

He felt...warm. Something he could blame on a number of things. The thick winter coat he still held onto, the sudden closeness of them, maybe he found himself abruptly sick with a fever. Excuses. He knew how to paint plenty of them when backed into a corner.

Patroclus moved his front limbs. Stretched outwards now so he could push his front paws into the large chest of the other man. A lazy attempt to keep him at bay, not that he wanted to, but he felt inclined to keep up his end of the game he had started.

You’ve clearly never dealt with majesty before. He teased in an almost whisper, no need for loudness when placed this close. How can I forgive this...oversight of how to handle someone of my status? A giggle followed, slipped free from him as if Kynareth had nipped it right out of his throat.