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“Mark. You’re drunk.” Falcon said firmly as he looked at his boyfriend. They were sitting in their living room, they had decided on a quiet night in. Drinks and a movie, and Mark insisting he can handle Falcon’s alcohol of choice. Falcon’s head was resting on Mark’s lap, where said man had been playing with the feathers of his neck for the last twenty minutes.
“I believe,” Mark said as his hand trailed up and a finger tapped his beak, “the term is tipsy. Not drunk. Drunk is like. Way more than tipsy and I’m not more than tipsy.” He said confidently as Falcon held back a moan. No need to add more fuel to the fire.
“Same thing.” Falcon murmured as Mark lifted his leg to place a small kiss at His ankle. “Have I mentioned how much I love the black feathers on your neck?” Mark asked as his hands smoothed down the contrasting feathers. The darker parts of his plumage had a softer feel than the rest of the area.
“Yes. Frequently.” Falcon replied, a soft smile on his beak. “Along with other things.”
“Like your butt” Mark chimed. “And your fancy hair.”
“You think it’s fancy?” Falcon said with a light chuckle as he ran a hand through his hair.
“Oh yeah.” Mark said, his own hand tangling in the strands. “And your eyes. Could get lost in them, y’know.”
“You are a hopeless romantic.” Falcon said with a smile as his fingers tangled with Mark’s.
“Only for you, Gravsey.” Mark said as he lightly squeezed Falcon’s hand.