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He has half the mind to chide the man before him for his negligence, leaving the window unlocked while he was unguarded, unprepared for an attack.
But he can’t.
Not when Aymeric looks exhausted even in his slumber.
The Lord Commander leans back in his chair, shoulders drooped and head falling to the side. Yet Estinien knows this is not a peaceful slumber. Aymeric’s jaw is tense, teeth grinding against each other, brows slightly furrowed.
Estinien knows that more nights than not, Aymeric’s slumber is born of necessity. Even if his mind demands that he work, his body has reached the end of its endurance, saves itself by locking him in a much needed rest.
The first time that Aymeric had a dizzy spell in front of him, Estinien felt his heart stutter as he reached out to balance and catch him if needed. He remembers the way Aymeric tried to pull away and pass it off, only stopped when Estinien growled, sagging against him in defeat. He berated Aymeric until he had run out of words, only squeezing him closer against him when Aymeric had so much as opened his mouth to refute.
The memory only irks him, reminds himself how he isn’t there for Aymeric when he does this to himself time and time again. His dear lover must have outdone himself this time though, for Aymeric to not even stir upon the clanking sounds of Estinien entering the room, presence creeping close as the dragoon kneels and raises a hand to ghost over Aymeric’s cheek.
Although he berates it, it fills Estinien with warmth to think that perhaps it is because Aymeric can subconsciously feel that it is him that he doesn’t awaken.
He sighs and weighs his choices. As much as he doesn’t want to risk waking him, he knows Aymeric’s body will suffer should he stay in his current position.
Well.
It would be no benefit to either of them if Aymeric were to sleep in his office tonight, not when Estinien has finally come home to Ishgard after weeks long of travel.
With a care he only reserves for a select few, Estinien slowly slides his arm under Aymeric’s knees, the other coming behind his back to move him away from the chair. Aymeric is barely in his arms when Estinien freezes upon hearing a sigh escape plush lips.
He waits one moment, two, then moves again when he deems it safe. With Aymeric’s head safely nestled against his shoulder, Estinien hauls them both up to the window and simply jumps out to the next roof over. Estinien has half a mind to worry about some retainer seeing the open window in Aymeric’s window and thinking he’s been kidnapped, but frankly he doesn’t give a damn.
A flush spreads through his body when Aymeric shivers and curls into him. His fingers tighten where they hold him, pulling him closer in an attempt to warm him. It’s not a far distance to House Borel and Estinien is thankful for the apparent security issue of Aymeric’s personal bedroom window also being unlocked. He toes the window open and slips them inside with a practiced ease that would concern the common man.
Estinien places Aymeric on the bed with a huff, stretching his arms briefly before ridding himself of his armor and outer clothes, careful to place them on the carpet quietly instead of letting it fall and clank. He turns his attention back to his lover, begins unbuckling, unlacing, unbuttoning each piece of metal and fabric until Aymeric is stripped to his undergarments.
And then he takes a moment to just admire.
To sit on the edge of the bed and memorize every single feature over and over again. As if he hasn’t done so multiple times over the years.
His gaze starts with neatly groomed hair, full eyelashes hiding bright blue eyes in his sleep, a sharp nose and equally sharp cheekbones, not as gaunt as Estinien’s own, he thinks. His eyes trail to Aymeric’s lips which he knows are ever soft. He follows the curve of Aymeric’s chin up to his ears, knows where it’s sensitive, and settles on the jewelry sitting on the left.
He leans down and nimbly unclasps Aymeric’s earring and cuff, slips them cleanly off just before the other turns his head, chasing the warmth of Estinien’s hand with the quietest sound.
“Shh,” Estinien shushes him, sets the earrings down onto the side table while his other hand cups Aymeric’s cheek, calloused thumb soothingly rubbing against soft skin.
Aymeric has always been shining. Where Estinien shrouded himself in darkness, Aymeric had made himself a beacon of light for his men, for the people of Ishgard, for him.
Estinien would see to it that his light is never extinguished, even at the cost of himself.
Here in his bedroom, stripped of his fanciful garments, Aymeric is still nothing but the image of an angel. With the moon’s light cascading through the window and illuminating his features, Estinien wonders to himself how he had ever managed to capture such a holy being. He, who had only cared for vengeance, whatever the cost.
He can take simply looking no further. His hand tingles where it rests upon Aymeric’s cheek. With controlled movements, he leans down to lay a chaste kiss upon Aymeric’s lips. It’s short, simple, and not enough for the beast who hungers inside Estinien that craves for more, but he would not have it that his lover’s health suffer for his own selfishness.
There’s still stress in his lover’s body, Estinien can tell. He brings his hand up to Aymeric’s forehead, first instinctively checking for a temperature before using the pad of his thumb to caress the area between his brows, gliding up and away in hopes to soothe him.
It’s not until Aymeric finally releases a soft sigh that Estinien lets his lip quirk up in satisfaction. He lowers himself once more to place another kiss on his lips, noses brushing against each other.
He pulls back to strip himself of his clothes, lays proper on the bed and brings the blanket up to cover them both. He carefully slots his arm under Aymeric’s head, positions them so that they’re both comfortable.
Estinien is wrapping his other arm around Aymeric’s waist when the other finally stirs, mumbling a quiet “Estinien?”
“Go back to sleep,” Estinien whispers, “I will still be here come the morning.”
A rare smile graces his lips when Aymeric replies with a sleepy nod and manages to wrap his own arm back around Estinien with the slightest squeeze.
Estinien presses him against his chest, legs tangling together under the blanket. He watches Aymeric’s lashes flutter, listens to the way his breathing evens back out, is mesmerized by how Aymeric trusts him so much to be so vulnerable beside him.
Once he’s sure that Aymeric has fallen back into a deep slumber, Estinien places a soft kiss against his forehead. Then, he tucks Aymeric against his shoulder and nuzzles into his hair, leaving another series of gentle kisses until he feels himself tire.
It’s warm, he thinks, before sleep overcomes him and wraps them both up in a night’s rest.