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“I can tell somethin’s wrong.”
Reginald’s neck was really starting to hurt from this hunched over position, but if he let it go then his issues would be instantly invalidated because clearly a distressed person should not be allowed to sit normally. “I know you can.”
Damn him, damn him to hell. Strong hands came to rest on his body and slowly stroked over it until the tension was bullied into melting away, Reg’s shoulders drooping and his neck failing to support his head. Right caught it, though, cradling it in his palms and gently tilting it backwards so their eyes were forced to meet. “C’mon Reg, ya can’t stay locked up in that big brain a’ yers forever.”
Reginald scowled. “It is not big, I am stupid and dumb and moronic and idiotic and…” He struggled, but in his compromised state failed to think of another adjective in time and gave in, his sigh of defeat enough to topple nations.
Right was able to lift his limp body from his office chair with ease, hoisting the smaller man up into his arms right where he belonged. “Now now, s’nough paperwork for tonight.”
Reg didn’t bother replying. He knew that yes, in this state he was getting nothing done and continuing to try was doing nothing good, but he was stubborn. He was stubborn as his husband carried him through halls, stubborn as they entered their quarters, stubborn as he was set on the edge of the bed, stubborn as Right helped him out of his shoes and accessories. But when Right gently nudged him to lay down, and then climbed on top of him? All of his resistance vanished. After all, he had never been able to say no to this man, and this man alone. Any other he could command without issue, but not Right. He wanted to do what he said, to bend to his will. And, lucky for him, said will always had his best interests at heart.
A thumb traced his lower lip, and Reg let his eyes flutter upward to meet his companion’s. They were intense, but soft. Long locks of soft orange hair fell down over his shoulders, and settled against Reginald’s when his husband dipped down until they were a hair away from a kiss. “C’mon love, I’ve got ya.”
Their lips made contact and Reg couldn’t stop his inevitable fate of absolutely melting. Right was so gentle with him, pulling away after only a few seconds only to immediately catch him again, this time on the corner of the mouth. A hand came to cup the side of his face, while another was pinning his wrist to the bed. He balled that hand into a fist as more light kisses were trailed down his jaw, need rising within him.
When one of the kisses reached his neck, Reg gasped. With the second one, a little lower, he felt a shiver pass through his body and didn’t bother to stifle the whimper that escaped his throat. He wanted Right to know exactly how he made him feel. With the encouragement his husband gave him a third, a little less gently and chased by a nuzzle against him. Reginald shivered again, the ever so slightly prickly but primarily soft and fuzzy feeling of his partner’s mustache against his skin a little too much to handle. Right knew this very well, and exploited it to the best of his ability. Another firm kiss and nuzzle, this time at the nape of his neck and followed up by a soft hum against him. Though, with Right’s voice, it sounded closer to a growl and Reg had already completely forgotten about whatever he was previously upset by.
The hand on Reginald’s face trailed down where it fiddled with his layers of complicated clothing until more skin was exposed, then moved to grip the side of his ribcage. Reg rocked up into the touch, feeling their legs further slot together and whining when the kisses returned, this time as a slow trail along his collarbone with the added touch of warm tongue. Afterwards Right hummed again, although this time it ended in a warm huff of breath against him and a hand tracing his body ever lower.
“I’ll take good care’v ya, don’ worry.”